I don't know why I agreed to this. I mean, I know why I agreed to it. But if it weren't for the fact that it is my last chance at getting my family back, I wouldn't even bother.
Group therapy is hard f*****g work.
"Okay guys, we're going to do an exercise that will help us work on our communication skills," Anne informs us, as we all take our seats. "Santos, Mariana, I'd like you guys to pull your chairs into the middle and face them toward each other.
I grab both our chairs and pull them into the circle.
"I can do that myself, ya know," Mari mutters.
"I know. I'm trying to be polite."
She doesn't respond, just pulls her chair a couple of feet from mine before taking her seat. Once we're situated, Anne gives us more instructions. "We're going to take turns with this exercise, so be
