Again and again. I believe you.

Today went to River Valley Services. Lovely. I was dreading it. I was actually terrified of going until Cindy said she'd take me. At first she wasn't going to be able to and I am terrified of going to these places anyway, never mind alone. I am afraid to go anywhere alone.

For two hours I talked to Brianna. A pixie of a young black woman with fluffy hair, pulled back from a thin, pretty face. She was kind.


I - again - retold the synopsis of my life. The things that have happened, things I've done, places I've been. Smiled my way through it - cried just a little.

Cindy was there.

I caught her crying a couple times.

It occurs to me that I've told this story before - so, so many times - or at least in bits and pieces.

People say things like:

"Really?"

or

"No shit?!"

or

"Oh my God!"

or

"That's terrible!"

But it occurs to me that I have never heard anyone say, "I believe you."

This won't be the last time I tell this story. I know this. I knew it as we found our parking spot because I won't take part in a conglomerate for long. They're all the same and, trust me: I know. I've been in enough of them to know if you've seen one, you've seen them all.

I'm sure most of them care, but society doesn't so funding is minimal and we - the survivors and sufferers who desperately want to heal - become another file.

Oh that rant I could go on and on about but I won't.

What I will say is this: Michelle - the lying, misleading, untrustworthy therapist I spent almost a year with - made me realize some people don't believe you. She was the first time I ever thought, "Oh my God, she didn't believe me."

And today, I thought: People don't believe you. They don't.

Perhaps they can't.

For whatever reason(s) they can't say, "I believe you, and I love you anyway."

So much, that people don't know. So, so much.

So much.