Agony is the truth of my life, not an embellishment. Most lives in my soul but the acid in my spine, from even the simplest of chores, is as fresh salt on open wounds and feels like my spine is splitting in twain. The emotional damage I’ve suffered since I was nine has remained an open wound through all measures that have been tried to close it. Anxiety around others stays firm. Trust in others remains weak. Stress of any sort is like a vice squeezing every nerve.