just scream, no really do it.
You’ve seen people scream. You’ve probably done it yourself. Maybe you did it as a child. Or maybe you did it last night into your pillow because your boss won’t stop sending you tasks to complete 10 minutes before you clock out.
Growing up black, we did not have the luxury to even think about throwing a tantrum. As I got older, raising your voice or crying was a notable sign of getting upset and if you did either, it’s not going to help your punishment. Because of the possible consequences, I tried not to ever cry.
As I continued to grow up, I would fantasize about going to the ocean and just screaming. Full send. I would practice yelling, and the thought of being more audible than my singing voice seemed impossible. Silly even.
Last year, June 2020, I was losing it. I felt trapped. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I would be laying in bed holding back tears every night. I would take Benadryl just to fall asleep.
I was driving on The 405 heading back home. I must have been coming from the airport. My Tears Are Becoming the Sea by M83 was trending on Tik Tok and I just felt like it was the perfect, “I’m screaming until my lungs fall out in the car,” kind of music.
I queued the song, rolled down my windows, and waited. My emotions were running rampant. I was gripping the steering wheel to control the speed. When the moment finally hit, I breathed in and screamed. It wasn’t that loud. I knew I was scared to just let go. So I did it again. And this time I couldn’t hear the wind rushing past me or the music blaring. I only heard my voice, my crippling voice. I did it again and again. By the time I stopped and finally breathed, I was well over 80. I was light-headed and tired and in desperate need of water. I wiped my tears and coasted the rest of the way.
I haven’t held back since.
Two days ago I was driving south to San Diego. The roads were wide and empty. The sky was blue. The Pacific was finally poking out. I queued the M83 song and waited. I was buzzing. Here I was with the freedom to drive, the freedom to finally go places. Here I was moving to New York, in hopes of a new job and new opportunities. And even though I’m losing my mind occasionally, at that moment, I felt good.
This time, I screamed with joy. Joy from closing chapters and starting new beginnings, and no matter how it goes, I am here, alive and well, enjoying the present.
Scream. To feel your body and your emotions and presence and to let it have what it needs, is healthy.
Just don’t forget to breathe.
