never considered more than the difficulty of giving it to my therapist's position of authority and knowledge needed to make progress. The most difficult, impossibly difficult to get help for me was always that, that give up my inalienable right to my destination in life, in my impenetrable shield being Laurousse and know everything, and know the most. But then I found myself surrounded by more people ask me things because he wants my answer and not just because you are too lazy to search google, I found myself surrounded by people who are busy, and you have responsibilities, and who is not a mysteryunfathomable sacrifices ... I found myself surrounded by people who had lived and refined the real tragedies of life that make one a compassionate individual. Surrounded in numbers that meant something. Suddenly it was not the only person in the world, was no longer tied to the land by the negligible cordoncito favorable opinion, but biased, my loved ones: I was walking on the earth together with all others.
Then I sought help, sought help when I had years to be a passion fruit juice glass filled to the brim and if I moved I was watering. It is worth mentioning that I use the analogy because I pI'm good, but I'm the best. But I'm not. I'm just normal. Am I wrong, I'm not careful (although I put much, much
care what I do), and each day that passes I feel that I am still far from operating at the level I would have operated from the beginning: I feel I am still far from that think I'm good, and very far from the best . is time to re-hang a dream catcher above my bed.
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