It seems like all I've been hearing for the past month or two is that my feelings are wrong, created by unusual situations or medications. This seemed entirely possible, as this Summer has thrown some very intense problems my way. I've been plagued with doubt about my perceptions and analyses, as over and over again I've reached conclusions about the behavior of those around me, only to be told I was mistaken, it was coincidence, it was simple forgetfulness, or some other lame excuse. I feel like I've been painted as a small-time conspiracy theorist, capable of seeing only the worst possible explanation. I've been called paranoid.
But yesterday I received hard proof that one of my suspicions is true. I am not paranoid. I am correct. I am vindicated. One of my worst fears is realized. The rest of my "crazy theories" now seem a lot less like the dark musings of someone trying to find reason in ordinary disappointment and misfortune, and instead a lot more like real insight. I'm feeling both incredibly hurt and incredibly relieved, which is a very odd combination.
And you know what? I'm okay with it. I can deal. I had my day for crying at the outset and now it's done. Only the across-the-board insistence that I had lost my faculties was causing me to doubt, delay, and cling to the hope that things might not be as bad as they appear. Finally a crack has appeared in that facade and instead of trying to deduce what's behind it, I can see for myself. My expectations will change to fit the circumstances and life will go on.