My niece had a hissy fit

What a pathetic life I have lived. A life of being misunderstood and shunned, ridiculed and rejected. A life of failure and disappointment.

The latest episode of rejection happened yesterday with my niece. She is 18. I am 50. We were asked to pose together in a family photo, and she ended up standing next to me. The photographer asked her to move closer to me, and she seemed not to hear him. So I touched her sleeve to nudge her toward me. She recoiled, and she seemed creeped out. She said, "Please don't touch me." Later, she was acting annoyed with me, so I asked what I had done to offend her, and she said: "You grabbed me." Obviously, she was exaggerating and responding way out of proportion to what happened. But I apologized and asked her to forgive me. And she responded by saying she didn't want to talk with me. I objected that I had only touched her sleeve to nudge her into place for the picture. She told me to shut up. So I left the family party in a huff. My brother Ralph asked what was wrong, and I told him: "Sage is having a hissy fit and refuses to speak to me and told me to shut up."

This is all just so humiliating, so hurtful, so devastating. If this were a freak event, I guess it would be no big deal. But there's a lot of history behind this little incident. Sage's father (my brother Dan) and grandfather (my dad) shunned me for years because of petty grudges. I was not allowed to be part of Sage's life as she grew up. I was not allowed to touch her or hold her when she was a baby. By the time my brother had his third child, he finally gave up his grudge and I was allowed to hug the kids. But Jonathan, the youngest, is the only one interested in hugging me. My dad didn't give up his grudge until a few months ago when he was diagnosed with cancer and underwent surgery for it. So things were starting to go better with my family, and now this. It's like a relay race, and now it's Sage's turn to run with the baton.

I can't stand it. I just want to hide. I hate being me. I want to crawl out of my skin. I am embarrassed to show my face anywhere. I wish I could just stay home and never leave the house.

I am just so tired of my life. Is there no escape? Suicide is not an option. So I pray: "God, please take me home I've had enough."

Pamela, who rents my guest suite, heard me crying this morning and called to try to comfort me. I thanked her, but I didn't feel comfortable confiding in my tenant. Pamela suggested perhaps there were things I could do to change my life. But no, every time I think things are getting better, something like this happens to show me I am powerless to change my situation. But the Bible says that when the end comes, "In an instant we will all be changed." So I just wait out my tortured existence, doing my time.

On the upside, after I got home last night, two friends called. Yes, I guess there are some people who like me and care about me. I told them what happened, and how hurt I feel. But I don't think they get it. Nobody really understands. Being misunderstood, that's another theme in my life.