My Memories Of My Life

886 WordsJul 16, 20164 Pages
The idea of forgetting what happened in my small town never allowed me to recognize that I was very scared during those years of my life. On the contrary, I have been always looking at the good side of the situation. Obviously, this happens because I do not want to go to that place of pain again. I prefer avoiding that pain by talking about the good experiences that have come from that frightening situation: I lived in Bogota, I met many people, I came to the US, etc. However, the reality is that I did not address the fear directly, I just avoided the elephant in the room, but I know it has been always present. Let me say something about my parents and my brother. I feel very sorry for them because I have had so many tools and people who have helped me to work on my emotions and my personal life. Psychologists, priests, nuns, teachers, spiritual directors, conferences, workshops, seminaries, and CPE have been of great help for me. But my parents and my brother, none of these. I remember that while I was in the seminary of Bogota, my dad spoke with one of the psychologist just for a few minutes. I tried to remember why or how that happened but I do not know. The fact is that a few days after that encounter, my dad told me if I could ask the psychologist to receive him to talk. He told me that he had enjoyed talking to the psychologist. I think he was able to see her once more. But my point here is that in that desire of my dad to see the psychologist, even though he had no

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