Just drivin’ about, screaming at the dark, lettin’ it out… – Twenty-Mile Zone by Dory Previn.
I’m recklessly giving you the green light.
I have no esteemed qualifications, and I’m indiscreetly sharing my unorthodox approach. I cannot radio for backup, but I do have a been there, done that badge.
You do this at your own risk (if you see red while reading STOP).
When you’re entertaining doing any, or all, of the following:
- Throwing or breaking something or someone (don’t);
- hitting something or someone (no no no);
- hurting yourself (NO);
- shouting and shouting and SHOUTING (shoosh);
- becoming a beast who paces a cage, snarling because nobody has thrown a piece of meat in, and you’re trapped inside with gnawing insides.
Do the following if you haven’t got a better idea, and it’s safe to do so. No leaving babies/toddlers/young children, or vulnerable people, on their own or in sticky situations.
Leave the house (with dignity);
climb in your car if it’s a SUV (I get in my car);
head for an almost deserted, but safe, road/area (no dodgy neighborhoods) and
SCREAM IN YOUR CAR (windows closed).
Scream hard and long. If it’s snotty, sobbing screams, and you can’t see where the hell you’re going, PULL OVER. Scream until all the toxic build-up is released, and calmness descends (you might feel pleasantly weak, but it passes quickly).
If you have a dicky heart, or any other medical condition that would not benefit from extreme emotional release, desist.
It’s not something I do when just a bit pissed-off or cranky. It’s like a life jacket, reserved for emergencies.
Most of the time exercise, going for a walk, or distracting myself works for much of life’s unpleasant emotions and incidences.
I head for the hills when experiencing unbearable distress and/or emotional pain. If I can’t go for a drive I do as outlined in a previous post. I imagine the release.
I know emotional inner drama queens do not accompany everyone everywhere.
I have most of the good, and some of the bad, traits of a water sign with a flood of water in her chart. The worst of the baddies being a calm poker face (especially in a crisis, or at the center of hideous circumstances/ events/ behaviors), hiding deep emotions that has people believing – erroneously and through no fault of their own – I feel nothing, and can cope with anything.
The first time I found myself screaming in my car I was wracked with guilt and shame, adding another layer to my distress. I felt the need to confess.
I told a dear, grounded, earthy friend who looked at me in disbelief, then laughed and said Welcome to the screaming-in-my-car fraternity! Is this really the first time you’ve done it? You know there’s even a song about it?
I share the screaming-in-my-car-song with you. It’s screamingly funny and has a satisfying ending.