So shocked. So hurt.
I was told that my mother doesn't believe my pain is as bad as I make it out to be. As in, she thinks I'm exaggerating, blowing it out of proportion . . . making it up?
While I am shocked, I'm not terribly surprised It explains some behavior.
But it's my mother.
My fucking MOTHER.
My own mom doesn't believe me.
And she's seen me at my worst, my lowest points, my deepest pain.

I guess this is why she's refused to help me in the past.
Why she redirects all her "care" towards me into other areas that are full of emotional violence and disregard for my well-being. I guess this is one of the reasons I've been avoiding her.
And it hurts to avoid her
I have no idea . . . I've been agonizing over what I might have done in the past, how I could have led her to this conclusion. Out of all the years I've been dealing with this--all the disbelief, the utter dismissal by doctors and coworkers and bosses and friends--to discover, to KNOW my own mom doesn't really believe me . . .

I'm gutted. Something irreparable has been severed. That tenuous tissue, invisible to the gaze of science and all its apparatuses, that binds whatever connection there may be between heart and soul.