Memory isn't a weapon and nobody should treat it so. If I let them, my right hand fingers can still dial the phone numbers for Mine Group ONE in Seattle everytime they get near the phone. I called them a lot and usually at times of great stress. I called them almost everyday and told them that I was ready willing and able to report aboard any mine sweeper in the Persian Gulf in any job and they explained as how there was a long line ahead of me and to wait my turn.
I remember a man, he was a brother, who went around the house and kicked in every single window. He wasn't shy or bashful and when I asked what the hell he was doing he told me. His girlfriend had made a decision and taken action without informing him. It was a matter of life and death. Since the child was his, he thought he should have been consulted. She was a pretty blue eyed blonde who played first violin in the orchestra and I never laid eyes on her again.
That was the first time I saw literal rage and hate. I am sure that if I give it another hour or two the feeling will pass. I hate dealing with evil and there is no other name for it but evil.