The Pain is Gone in A Childhood Lost

I’m sure exactly when it left, but it did. It’s sort of surreal, you know, to realize that at some point the ache in your soul you’ve felt your entire life has evaporated. Was it slow? Was it spontaneous? How did it happen? Why didn’t I notice?
Well, I did notice. This is me noticing. lol.
And, with the pain, my orientation to my Self has shifted quite a bit. I recognize the fundamental guilt and shame in which I was accustomed, and in which I was formed, is not actually mine. And after that recognition, it was a simple matter of assigning responsibility for it. That feeling of “I don’t deserve to be loved” is simply, “I was deprived of love”. Which is more factual, more empirical.
I find it interesting that so many people are so offended by a re-framing of my own experience. It’s like they recognize that the consequences will be to hold the accountable for their actions. Which means, they recognize the consequences of their actions. They just don’t want to pay the full price for them.
I still wonder about some things, but whether I was a causative factor in my pain is not one of them. I have no ambivalence about that. I still wonder if my mother had had a miscarriage or an abortion. I still wonder what the fuck happened to my dad, and who did it. I especially wonder about my little brother and if he will ever be open to talking.