I suddenly remembered a character in Horace & Pete who was extremely unpleasant and even easily ignored (recently cued to this show frequently, the main reason is that the authenticity of its life accumulates too many emotions, and it is difficult to deal with it in a short period of time. ), is sister Sylvia.
At that time, I couldn't understand why she was so stressed. A little thing could make her angry, why she was so hysterical when she spoke, as if she had drawn every bit of strength in her body to fight against others and the world, why she could be against others, even her own brothers and sisters. Daughter is so mean. I still can't understand why she has been deliberately trying to sell the 100-year-old pub, the only home for the poorest fringe in the family, Pete. She seemed like a total villain.
I suddenly understand now, and I don't hate her anymore.
There is a word called "powerless rage", I think it has to be changed to "powerless rage", the more angry a person is, the more powerless his real situation may be, because it is a state of collapse that is powerless. . It may not be that he is incapable. On the contrary, he may be able to do it without subjective factors, but the feeling of powerlessness makes people lose their motivation to move forward.
You can see Sylvia's powerlessness covering her body, buried in every wrinkle, in her wide eyes. The shadow of my father's domestic violence is lingering, the toxic family tradition is deeply ingrained and cannot be dismantled, I regret leaving my mentally ill brother at a young age, and I am also suffering from cancer... My past, present, and the environment I live in are too toxic. Much more, just like Pete, no matter how strong he was, he couldn't resist the terrifying vision he saw before him, and he could only beat and kick and shout again and again until his nerves collapsed.
I understand her rage now, because I've been in a volcanic state of late, and every little thing can make me hysterical. But this kind of anger and powerlessness is like a bottomless pit, as if it can never be exhausted. And fear. It's really hard to care about other people's feelings at this time. Yet every rage is followed by endless self-blame and self-criticism, like I did with Sylvia. I really don't want it, I really hate it, but I can't control it, the powerlessness over the situation and the powerlessness over myself.
Sometimes you really need to put in one's shoes to truly understand others. Trying to calm down people like Sylvia who are in a state of collapse and pain at any time is essentially objectively indifferent to their situation, because rage is their only way of resisting powerlessness, and calling them calm is depriving them of their only emotional outlet. Every time I hear the word "calm", I take another step back to the edge of anger and collapse.
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