When Silence Hurts

I cannot fathom the depth of hatred I take from the supposedly most important people in my life.  I need to understand how rotten I am that I get pushed away to oblivion so hard and so far here in my own home.

That's never enough for you that you have to build an invisible wall.

It's hard to believe that an invisible wall can get so noisy that its screams keep me up all night and my ears cry blood.  It doesn't matter how tender my wounds are.

You want to just bleed me dry?
How harsh can you get? 

I'd rather be a fugitive because a fugitive is 'wanted'.
I am an outcast in my own home.
What did I ever do to make my family hate me so much?
I get despised and I get castigated with sins I'm not even aware of.
And I am the only person guilty?
Really?
How can this be?

When will this silent war ever end?

My own family look down on me with hateful and judging eyes, unforgiving of all things about me.  It's all shame and contempt for me that there's no way out.  This is my reality.  This is what I have to deal with while I have to fight a mental illness.  Family choose to nullify the illness and resign to the premise that evil within me is damaging everyone around me.

To the most important people in my life-my family, there is no such thing as 'mental illness'.  It's just an excuse I make up to get away with murder.

Sometimes I wish I am guilty of murder.  Maybe it will ease the pains that I take daily.  Maybe it will justify the fact that I get so much hate and that I deserve it.  All the hatred towards me will finally make sense because I am the real and certified villain of our story. 

I wish I am guilty, indeed! 
Maybe, silence won't hurt after all.