You hear it over and over again. “This company is just one big happy family.” “These people are just like family.” boy if that were the case I wouldn't have joined either group.
My family was not a fun place to grow up in. It was more closely related to Freddy Krueger's family. I was the youngest. By the time I was born, my “family” was already screwed up. I don't think my father ever wanted me. I was an accident. I honestly think that my existence repulsed him.
He was the subject of my therapy session. I brought in a piece of “Hotwheels” track that he would use to beat me (and my brothers) with. When my therapist got a hold of it, he was stunned. He then knew my pain. He also made an observation that hit me between the eyes. He said what was truly iniquitous was the idea that he used an innocent toy, and made it into a device of torture.
If you have children who are young enough (or old enough) to be playing with Hotwheels, take time out to check the pieces of track. If you don't have kids, go to a toy store to check it out. It will only be then that you will understand the horror.
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