This is the sound of settling.

“My family and my friends, here, have many other things and people in their lives and are not so bound up by my lacks and failures; do not rely on me to inject them with encouragement, meaning, and hope—the way my online friends do.”

You couldn’t possibly be any more wrong. You’re my mother. My freaking mother. Don’t you think that I need you to “inject me with encouragement, meaning, and hope”? Of course I do. You’re the only one who I would even remotely begin to believe if you told me that “everything would be alright”. Fuck your online friends. They have lives, they have families. YOU are my family; YOU are my life. How can you not see that? I don’t have “other things and people in my life” and I AM fucking “bound by your lacks and failures.”
I can’t even believe you think those things. That really, really hurts, Mom.