The white hot pain of my reality has morphed into an active, aching buzz. When I look right at the situation, the pain is too intense to feel...like wanting to feel the heat of the fire, but the pain makes you pull back.
I am quite frustrated about the lack of information and help. No one cares, it seems, and really, that is understandable. I need to go to the area of my mother's birth and youth to knock on doors. She must have had friends and/or family that would know her or about her.
Net/net: I must find the truth...for her.