Image by https://pixabay.com/users/anwarramadhan
Did you know there are thousands of invisible people all around you? Well, unless you’re living remotely somewhere and completely self-sufficient, there are people all around you that you never see. I know about them because there is one — maybe two — that keep our bathrooms spotless in the office building I work.
There’s one that comes in at night and gets rid of the trash in our waste paper baskets that we keep under our desk.
I know of one sneaky one who comes around when I’m not home and whacks the shit out of the weeds in my yard and hauls away them away. The only way I know he’s been there is the smell of fresh cut grass when I come home and the stuffed recycle bins that have been placed in the street for an early morning pick-up.
The sanitation workers aren’t quite invisible as their trucks are loud and I can hear them 2 blocks away, but they are doing some great work since our streets are clean and not overflowing with garbage and rats. Much appreciated!
I suspect there are invisible people who empty the trash in parks and hotels and motels and gas stations and just about every store or business I’ve gone to. Once in a while, you’ll spot one of them as they work and they often try to be quiet and keep their heads down lest they disturb the visible people.
The homeless are most often invisible, but when they are spotted and begin to group together to form some semblance of a community, the visible people want them to go back to being invisible. It’s an odd phenomenon. I generally don’t care if they are visible as long as they don’t make too much noise and keep their area clean. I don’t know their stories and I rarely see one, but when I do, I wonder how close am I to walking in their shoes.
I already feel like I am partially invisible. I see people around me and I talk to people when I can, but it’s as if unless I initiate a conversation, most would never see me. I don’t know if it’s an age thing or a woman thing or just something about me, but it’s a horrible feeling to feel invisible or like I’m slowly fading away.
There are times I am an invisible person on purpose. When I’m grading and sending lessons back to an inmate in hopes that it helps them be a better person and start a better life.
When I make a quick call to check on a sick or troubled friend.
When I make a cash donation to a man on the street who is trying to feed the homeless.
We all do these things and we don’t want the attention. We want to remain anonymous and hate attention called to our acts of kindness.
These are examples of when it’s perfectly fine and preferred to be invisible.
But staying that way isn’t a good way to live a life.
Somewhere along the line, I began to pull away and withdraw. It’s been a very gradual decline over the last few years. I remember thinking when I was at a very high stress level that I wanted everything to slow down and everyone to leave me alone.
I’ve now learned that your words can create thoughts that go into play. Your life starts and ends in your head. Kind of a cool thing and kind of scary. Cool because the easiest thing in the world is to change your mind. Scary because we often forget the decisions we make and create a Frankenstein-type monster; our creation takes on a life of its own and we deny any responsibility for it. We throw up our hands and wonder why life is being so mean to us.
I’ve faded away because I got tired and overwhelmed and the light at the end of the tunnel was an oncoming train. I didn’t mean to be away for as long as I have and now I find it difficult to come back, to reach out, and to be myself again.
But usually the things we need to do are hard. They can seem impossible, which is where I am right now, but I’m forcing myself to call people and go see them. I am making myself write everyday and get up early just to do that. I’m on the other side of my life and though I’ve done some amazing things, I’m way behind all that I could have accomplished. I am always tired but I keep pushing myself to do more, be more active and ignore the pain that shoots up my back and through my hips and neck.
Does everyone feel like this when they hit their 60’s? Does it get better or worse as we get older? I suppose it depends on the person.
We are the creation of our decisions and actions. We were there for every second of our lives and there for every decision we made, so it’s pretty silly to point the finger at anyone other than ourselves.
This last week, I have pushed myself harder than I can ever remember and the week isn’t over. I’ve committed myself to being a success again and to not stop until I hit every goal that I pushed aside due to time, money, or feelings of “not being good enough.” I’ve committed myself to speaking my voice loudly and let the chips fall where they may. I’m committed to being out of debt this year and if I have to continue to work a 14 hour day, 7 days a week, then so be it.
As we get older, we tend to forget that we are even more valuable because we’re still here with decades of experience. Society pushes back on us that we are no longer relevant, but we are all relevant.
Writing helps me restore my voice and connect to more people. It makes me feel that I’ve helped someone in a good way.
We writers are often invisible people, even after we publish something and that’s a very good thing. For me, it’s wonderful to pull away from the world, write some random piece that I like, and throw it out into this wonderful, cruel, and sometimes scary universe.
I’m glad you’re there.
Thank you.
idisagreecompletely 
You must be logged in to post a comment.