hello! i was wondering—and it very well may be that you have little advice on the matter or don't wish to discuss it, which I would very much understand—how you or others you may know cope with disbelief (whether direct or oblique) about your (traumatic) experiences? I am losing my mind a little bit over every interaction in which someone is skeptical of the existence of particular forms of abuse, some of which I have directly experienced. this might be a very big ask, and I apologise if that is the case!
This indeed a very big ask, but I don't mind receiving it. I'm very sorry that this is something you are having to grapple with - it's been a pervasive experience in my life, in many different forms (both direct and oblique, as you articulate it), and it's such a painful one, and so very common.
I do have thoughts about what helps me cope with it, though it is of course very much not a completed thing for me. I am also publishing this in the hopes that others may add thoughts about works for them.
This might sound overly simplistic or obvious, but I think what has helped for me has pretty much always come down to a combination of different forms of taking steps to relieve my aloneness and simultaneously creating internal and external separation from the disbelief, and working to balance those two tasks.
Relieving aloneness can be tricky because sometimes the steps we take to reach for that end up reinforcing it - other survivors can certainly have just as strong assumptions and defenses around experiences of trauma different from the ones they personally have experienced, and I've ended up in a lot of painful situations by leaning too readily into closeness with another survivor in the assumption that they would be able to tolerate the knowledge of my experiences.
But, at the same time, experiencing a thread of shared experience, even if it's only around a particular detail of or reaction to an experience, has been crucial for me. Reading survivor memoirs or other nonfiction about violence and letting myself connect to the points of similarity, even alongside the areas of difference. Leaning into relational closeness with other people who can truly tolerate knowing the truth of my experiences, regardless of whether or not they share any aspect of them. Feeling deeply about my own experiences with myself, without minimizing them. The more deeply I can take in those experiences of connection, the less existentially threatening others' disbelief feels.
And then, on the other hand, there's a sort of an internal shift I have needed to make (not that it's finished yet!) to sort of...take myself out of the whole dialogic nexus of belief and disbelief as much as possible. I have the freedom to do this because I have not ever and am not pursuing any kind of redress or systems involvement that is dependent on being believed; for someone who is, this is thorny in a different way.
But for myself, I can decide that I don't care about plausibility or believability or statistical likelihood or proof; for people determined to disbelieve, no amount of proof or telling my story coherently would be enough anyway. (Understanding others' disbelief as a psychological defense against the intolerability of knowing doesn't excuse it, but it does make it easier to set aside and not take in.) For many survivors, I know that understanding their experiences of violence within a broader social context as part of larger dynamics of oppression is central to their healing; for me, it's most important to hold them simply as my own experiences, specific and personal and meaning what they do to me and not bearing the rhetorical weight of being illustrations of social phenomena (so much disbelief circles around an experience of violence being ideologically/politically/rhetorically inconvenient).
Practically speaking, when people express disbelief about the existence of certain types of violence in the world in which they live, or behave in ways that obliquely imply such disbelief, I treat that as a communication which factors into what kinds of closeness I attempt or don't with them. I have boundaries around this for myself. I don't argue with people about whether types of violence are real, and if someone tries I will extricate myself from that interaction. On a very concrete level here on tumblr, if someone repeatedly makes jokes about acts of violence which treat those acts as abstract hypotheticals rather than things that happen in the world, I often quietly unfollow them (I most often end up doing this about torture jokes); this is a much more minor thing than someone actually expressing skepticism, but I've found it's where I want one of my boundaries to be.
I've been thinking a lot recently about the internal shift of that separation which I've been trying to describe here; I think I'm in the midst of a new wave of it right now, and am feeling out some more extreme edges of it for myself which are less relevant to your question. But there's a part of it which, difficult to describe as it is, I hope can be helpful. This piece about embracing one's own unbelievability, and about holding specificity. But it has to come alongside connection with others, for me at least, or else it's desperately lonely.