Ever feel like screaming? With all the losses we get hit with, and all that happens to us and around us, it’s hard to believe we aren’t screaming most of the time.
Perhaps we are – silently, in the deep recesses of our hearts.
Maybe it’s time we let a little of that pain out.
Betty went a little nuts – on purpose
Betty lived in a nursing home and spent her waking hours in a wheelchair. She suffered from an assortment of ailments, but none of them could touch her mind. She was sharp.
“Hello, Betty. How are you today?” I asked.
“Well, to be honest, I feel kind of stupid,” Betty said, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t know which end is up and I can’t see well enough to find it anyway. And if I could find it I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
I smiled. Betty began to giggle.
“So, you know what I’m thinking about doing?” she continued. “I’m thinking about having a nervous breakdown. I’ve never had one of those. Wonder how you do that. Do I begin by screaming?”
Now I began to giggle.
Betty looked at me, her eyes growing larger by the second. Suddenly she threw her head back and began waving her arms and screaming.
The staff at the nursing station looked up, startled. I took a quick step forward. Betty abruptly stopped screaming and shouted, “Stay where you are! I’m not done yet!” Then she smiled and started screaming again. The staff giggled and returned to their work. I rolled my eyes, crossed my arms, and waited.
After a few more seconds, she stopped.
“Are you done now?” I asked.
“Yes, quite. That was fun. Let’s do it again sometime,” she said.
Life does get a little crazy at times. Sometimes, it hurts. Deeply. We miss loved ones. Our hearts are broken. Maybe some screaming therapy is in order.
I’m serious. Screaming can be therapeutic. At least it was for me.
When I experienced intense grief as a result of flashbacks about childhood sexual abuse, I often screamed into a pillow. Other times, I would make my way to the car, drive a few miles from the house, and let it rip.
It was so effective, I’ve screamed many times sense (not in public, of course). Intense grief is powerful – and it deserves healthy, powerful expression.
Healthy release, is, well, healthy
There is so much inside us needing release:
The pressure builds over time. If we don’t let it out, it leaks – or explodes – usually in unhealthy ways.
What if we were proactive? What if, when we felt things building, we excused ourselves and had some screaming therapy (privately, of course)?
It’s definitely better than a nervous breakdown.
Question: Have you ever engaged in some screaming therapy? What was that like for you?