It seems…

 It seems that pain is at the core of my early childhood memories.

My story is not unique.

After all, my perspective is tailored by the pain and my interpretation.

I grew up in an abusive, neglectful environment.

I am old enough and strong enough to stand and share.

Shame, fear, and nausea peek over my shoulders and still whisper in my ears.

I am not sure where I am going with this blog.

This feels more like a need than an option.

And in between, I make my choice: A Life Worth Living.