I was a busy professional, working 12+ hour days, when I was struck suddenly. I'd not only been doing my paid job, but was also producing a children's book I'd written and selling it at a craft fair. I hit bottom that weekend, so exhausted that I was sure I was dying. Months later, I walked out on my job because of stress, complete exhaustion, and so much pain that I couldn't take it anymore. My family thought it was temporary, apparently, and even numerous doctors diagnoses (primary care, two rheumatologists, psychiatrist, physical therapist, and too many others to remember) did not change their perceptions that I just quit. I ask them sometimes, when its obvious that they think I'm 'mental,' why a woman who worked for 40+ years in challenging jobs, earned a degree at the age of 45, raised two children alone, would suddenly 'claim' disability?
They have no answer. But they also have not bothered to research fibro or RA or other autoimmune diseases I've been diagnosed with since 2004. I do not talk about my illnesses, except when I'm in extreme distress. My mother rolls her eyes if I mention pain, and immediately starts talking about how bad her knee hurts. My husband tells me to "get out! Go somewhere!" I get daily lectures from him about exercising. (Not that he does, either). Neither understands, and to be honest, they don't want to. Maybe they are in denial, but that helps, HOW?
I understand how you all feel, with your nearest and dearest refusing to accept your diagnosis, refusing to understand, and saying you're crazy. I remind my family that I have a psychiatrist who says that I'm not crazy; just in pain, which leads to depression and anxiety. And then, because I cannot stand dealing with people who don't care and don't have a clue, I ask them: "Do you have a psychiatrist?"
That always leads to a retreat. Not that it helps.
I was always the 'bad kid' in my family of origin. I wonder how many of us fit that profile?