The year is 1982. I am 32 and had just run the New York City Marathon, placing 795 out of 8,756 people. I trained hard, was disciplined and had accomplished my goal. At the same time, I was building my private practice after leaving my full-time job working at a mental health center. It was time to branch out on my own.
When I graduated with a master’s degree in social work in 1978, I was determined to get a job at a mental health center where I would learn to do psychotherapy with clients. I was certain about my future. This was my goal since I went to therapy after having dropped out of college when I was 22 because of drug use. Clarity arrived when I stopped using drugs. I was meant to do therapy and help others. I had been there. I knew the extreme highs and lows.
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