As an anger-in, here was my pickle, though: I knew by ignoring conflict, I was harming the friendship, but I wasn’t sure addressing it would help either. If I lounged on Freud’s couch and he asked me to reveal my unconscious associations with conflict, I’d say attacks, accusations, raised voices, fists clenched, burst arteries, Monopoly games toppled. Anger and conflict, based on what I knew at the time, destroyed rather than cured.
