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When I was a teenager I had a bad friend named Joe. Nowadays, Joe is a fine person, but when he was younger, he was a consummate tormentor. He liked to cause suffering to make up for his perceived failings, his height, weight, discomfort with his masculinity and other problems only he knew of. Joe caused constant strife through “friendly” harassment, homophobic attacks, etc. There are a number of occasions where I resorted to strange, anti-object violence when he pushed me too far.
One of these occasions that sticks out involves a cardboard box. Joe and I had been talking, I don’t even remember about what, but he managed to push me pretty hard. So, I went upstairs in my parents’ house as if I was going to bed. At that point, I saw a medium sized cardboard box, and with very little though I picked it up and began to destroy it.
I tore at the box with my hands, feet and head, all the while, cursing Joe’s name. I had let him get to me, and when my parents discovered me in the wreckage of the box, I was too embarrassed to explain. I really hated him for that. It took me some time to understand.
Response from Dr. DeFoore
This sounds like the confusing emotional experience of an adolescent. Adolescence is a time of strong hormonal and physical changes, and is accompanied by tremendous emotional surges that the teenage mind is not developed enough to process. It seems you just got your anger out in a non-violent way (meaning nobody got hurt), and so it was basically a healthy choice.
My very best to you,
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