Fus Roh Da, Motherf#ckerrrrr!

I’ve just returned from seeing my second counsellor, M, the alcohol counsellor. I’ve always liked this woman because she is non-judgemental, even with her eyes. Some health professionals try their best to remain nonplussed by the words you give them, but they are only human, and in my experience, some of them manage it better than others. M is such a person, yet she somehow retains warmth and compassion.

While she remains impartial to your choices, and refrains from placing any pressure on you to commit yourself to goals that are too far beyond your reach, she clearly explains the situation, devoid of its emotion, leaving the responsibility of decision solely in your lap. Now though, it’s not some crazy weed-strewn track, but a dusty, well-worn and comforting road that has signposts at each crossroads and a lot of grassy, picnic spots for breaks.

And she tells you, it is okay to make mistakes. You’ve learned a lot from yours, but now it’s time to stop collecting lessons, the only ones left to learn are those that come from putting them into practice.

So basically, this is like when you go to a skill master in Skyrim so many times that they can no longer teach you anything you don’t already know. The only way you can reach 100 in that skill is to gain XP through using it.

Okay, man. I’ve got this shit.

Booze is about to take an arrow in the knee.

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