When I was coming into adulthood I swore I would never be like my mother, never treat people as she treated us. Now sometimes I feel just the same as she must have. I think it is understandable, because I am as frustrated with life and the lack of help in it as she must have been. Hard to accept that some of the people that we hated in fact were just frightened and unable to cope with their lives, and that is why they treated us the way they did. It happens. Doesn't help to know that sometimes, doesn't make it easier to accept. Or does it?

At least it is possible to have more insight than they did, and thus not to act the same way as they did...?