Destructive Rage

My brother is my example here. As a young tad, he was aware of the injustices to him – and ran away from home, twice. Our parents had to ask the police to find him – resolutely walking down the road to the next town.

He would fly into an uncontrollable rage for the strangest reasons – or no reason at all. Looking back at it, I can see what was happening. But at the time, no one could see anything wrong with our parents – who were like all the other parents around them. No one could imagine that an entire country could be socially defective. But it was.

Much later, when we were adults in therapy, it became common for the therapists who worked with us, to speak of the dysfunctional family – and its effect on us, when we were children.

Even now, in my old age (79 years old) I have to guard against raging against everyone and everybody. I have to calm myself down – and tell myself that this is something I cannot control – and will have to accept, as gracefully as I can.

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