How many times has this happened to you during your childhood?

Another child has been somehow tormenting you, maybe hitting, or pinching, or (as was often the case with me) tickling. And then as you're screaming in pain and telling the other child to stop, the parents come in from another room and scold or punish you for causing a disturbance. Try to explain that the other child started it, and you get, "You're the one we heard." They don't care that you were being hit, pinched, tickled, or whatever, as long as you don't make noise.

The worst sin I could commit as a child was to need anything which would call attention to my own existence. Being "good" meant staying out of the way and being quiet. Doing otherwise brought swift and decisive punishment.

Sometimes I think I existed only when it was convenient for my mother that I exist. When I could be called on to do a chore, I existed. When I could provide entertainment, I existed. ("Sing that song for us. You sound so cute." Later I would discover I was singing the wrong words, and nobody ever corrected me. I now wonder if, by asking me to sing, they were setting me up to laugh at my mistakes. Oh, and even if it was a song I hated, saying no was not an option. The reason for my existence was to be cute, so I'd better get on with being cute, dammit.)

But when my parents were busy with their own concerns, I might as well not exist to them.

Stay out of the way.

Be quiet.

Don't bother me.

It makes me wonder if they ever really wanted kids in the first place. They said they did, but did they really?