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“Did I say you were weak?” he snapped. “You are not weak because of fears, but I will do what I can to help you wade between the fears that are plausible and the ones that are the mind trying to paralyze you.” My lips parted. No one spoke so directly about my proclivity to fret. I . . . I liked it. There was something about his firm tone, his logical words, that helped chip away at what was true and what was a dark story my mind created.
