36 years of pain

Wed is my birthday. I will be 36 years old and I will have spent the majority of those 36 years trying to make people like me, love me, or at least respect me. Hell in some cases I'd settle for just seeing me, me as I really am, without changes, or conditions. Lately, it has all come to a head. I got married to someone my family disapproves of. This new act of disloyalty, as it has been seen, has brought on a fresh bout of rejection, and pain. See, I have know for some time that my parents and sister love me out of family duty, but, for the most part don't like me, or see me as very capable, or strong. While I am sure I have played that roll at times, I am not the girl they think I am. All of my life, I have tried in vain, to find that unconditionalness I want so badly. Romanticly, always choosing the guy that keeps me at arms length. I have battled depression and anxiety for a long time because of this constant feeling of rejection. Lately, it feels as though it is breaking me though, like I am turning into that unstable, easily wounded little girl that my family has always seen me as. I lash out in rage at anyone who reminds me how "unimportant" I am. How unworthy of love, respect, and acceptance I am. Friends, my new husband, even my daughter and step daughter are feeling the after shocks. Afterward, I am ashamed. I hate the way I act, the way I drive people away when I need them the most. I hate myself for giving in, for losing control of my actions and emotions. I hear the voices from the past echo in my head
"you are over reacting"
"you are too sensitive"
"What is wrong with you?"
"it was a joke, knock it off"
"I never know how you are going to interpret what I say to you."
All of it implying I am the problem. I am the one to blame. I have begun to believe it now. I have begun to believe I am out of control, emotionally disturbed, unstable, and at fault. It has eaten away at me for 36 years, and now I am unstable, and I do hate myself. I blame myself, and I am convinced I am not deserving, or able to get the type of love and compassion I crave. I am in an endless cycle of hating myself for becoming the person they told me I should not be....I am weak. I scream and cry like a child throwing a temper tantrum, but in the end, no one comes to comfort me, and I feel less and less important or ok with each tear, and I have begun to fall apart.