Dreaming, picturing a whole world in slumber

Her office is filled with books, books I've read, books I've wanted to read, books I've never even heard of. I sit at her desk staring, waiting for my impending doom. I start to tear up thinking of all the trouble I've caused, all the disappointment I feel like I am [what two hours can change..]
She sits down and just looks at me.. we start with the basics.
The tears start to flow.
The kleenex and "stress turtle" is handed to me with a smile.
Constant interruptions.
Sporadic actions.
The discussion on the word 'sorry' and why we need to stop saying it.
Her close friendship with the word 'fuck'.
"Don't bull shit the bull shitter right?"
"Exactly. What a dick."


Time passes, I miss my train but these two hours are more important.
A woman who is more willing to help me than my own mother.
Then I hear the words that I can't stop hearing in my head,
"You have to stop thinking you are shit. Because honestly, you're not."

At that moment I realize: I do think I'm shit.
But deep down, I know I'm not.
It's just every time I hit a bump in the road, I see myself as a massive fuck up.
This is stopping.
Those words have been ringing through my head, only because of the realization not because of the nice statement that went along with it.

This shitty feeling is lifting, and I am finally seeing that it's ok to take detours in the road... as long as I get to where I want to be.