My first memory of childhood is from when I was about two years old.

I am running in circles in the living room of an apartment though I don't recall ever living in one when I was that young. When I am recalling this image I see myself running in front of a brown couch. The sun is shining brightly through the sliding glass door. A bedroom is off to the right.

My parents are yelling at each other.

I suppose at that age I was too young to know what was going on. I just kept running in my cirlces laughing. I see my mom on the couch with her hands outstretched towards me although she is not looking at me. She is looking up and past me. I guess she is keeping her arms out towards the floor incase I give in to gravity and fall to the floor. For the moment, she is letting me be a typical two-year-old.

This is a strange first memory to have I guess, one of your parents arguing. However I suppose this image basically sets up the rest of my life.

Right now, I just want to be known as the Jaded Writer.

I chose this name because I feel that it fits me perfectly. My life has been anything but ordinary. I have endured more than most young girls at my age. At twenty-three, I feel that I have enough to write a book about.

This blog is intended to share my story and get my thoughts together before I actually write a book. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged because I want to know if my experiences are similar to yours. How did you react? What would you have done different?

This is the first post, but I will return shortly to start the story.