I've spent the majority of my life desiring to be a helper. Maybe I watched too much Mr. Rogers as a child. More likely, I spent to much time being the helper in my family of origin and at school. I went to grief therapy in elementary school. I don't remember it at all, but seeing as I what I do remember about that time is that I felt distinctly unable to make a fuss, I'm sure it was super helpful. #Sarcasm.During graduate school I saw a therapist for about a minute until I couldn't make that a priority. That's often how it went for me for a long time. It wasn't the priority. I knew it was an issue, but we had bigger fish to fry. Possibly, that's why I didn't connect at all to Kay Hutchison's book My Life in Thirty-Seven Therapies. I received My Life in Thirty-Seven Therapies from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. I didn't enjoy the book, or finish it. The book felt significantly longer than it truly was. My Life in Thirty-...