My fuel.
I walked around with an emptiness in my soul that I was sure I would never regain. The horrific and painful deep scars I battle that were delivered to me as a child. The lifelong seach for a happiness that has always been able to elude me. The intrusive memories that kept knocking me down and the desire to somehow find a place I can call home. This is what fuels me today. I know so many of my homeless family experience these or simular feelings. I can relate to each of their stories. I understand what it is like to be a victom and not a survivor. Our core values are shrouded by these feelings and memories. Our worth is hidden by masks that we invent. We hide in the shadows. We try to become invisible not just from society but ourselves. This isn't something we chose as many people believe. A high percent of homeless suffer from childhood traumas and abuse. If we all had the opportunity to see doctors and psychiatrist at that young age....