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The Rescuers
“Do it your bloody self!”That was pretty much the catchphrase from my childhood.Can you tell me how to spell this word?“Look it up in the dictionary.”I don’t think I can fix this.“You haven’t tried hard enough then.” Resilience.That’s what they called it.While I may have grown up ahead of my peers in problem solving, abstract thinking, and a ridiculous amount of independence, I was also way ahead of them in hypervigilance, social anxiety, and a belief that to ask for help was shameful and bound in obligation and ridicule. I didn’t mind other people asking for help, and I gladly help others, but they seemed somehow different from me, and…
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Wait. Where did the path go?
“Oh my god, what if we never get out of here and they never find us!” Kim pulled another spiky vine from her hair and swore in frustration. Surrounded by jungle greenery, our girl’s weekend to the oldest rainforest in the world didn’t seem so wonderful now. I slipped and fell a short distance down an embankment onto a fallen log, or thick branch,… who knows? “It’ll be fine,” I said. “We’ve just gotta be patient.” Our weekend in the Daintree was almost over. We’d snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef, cruised the estuaries and learned about crocodiles, dined at some great restaurants, and this track was the last on our…
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