Life without meaning or feeling fulfilled, without any hope of change, is a difficult one to live
“I’m angry.”
“That’s kind of obvious,” I answer. “What can you tell me about that?”
He thinks for a bit. “It’s not so clear cut,” he starts. “There’s a lot of resentment. Toward my wife, my parents…” he trails off. “My kids, even. That’s kind of embarrassing, honestly. They’re just kids, it’s totally not their fault.”
“You’re in a really tight spot, and they do contribute to that. Makes sense.” I nod slowly. “Sounds like there’s more?”
He takes a breath. “I’m angry at Hashem,” he says quietly. “I just really am. Like, I know I’m supposed to be grateful, and I know that there’s a plan, and I know, well, all the stuff I should know. But, well….” He waves his arms around a bit. “How am I supposed to do this?”
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