I finally sought help. Not from alcohol or weeds but some from pro. I'm talking about the counselor. After almost chickening out on that hallowed day, the encounter finally did happen. He was so good at what he does, did reverse psychology, that he made me admit that I was such a faker, control freak, manipulative, hypocrite brat who whines when things don't go as planned. All them haters would've danced for joy. Then he made me say "I love myself" with some assurance that I shouldn't be guilty about it. That didn't made me narcissist, he assured. I just need to love myself- and not keep track of crap. Period.
