Claiming My Voice: From the darkness, the light emerges.

I don’t recall how old I was…maybe 6 or 8 and I had this dress that I LOVED! It was dark blue with a big red apple on the front. I don’t recall the occasion but I was left alone to get ready and the family was coming back to get me. (Don’t get hung up on the fact that a 6 or 8 year old was left alone. I was perfectly safe…at least from the world at large)

I remember being happy. Whatever the occasion I was dressing up for was something I was excited about. This is the picture I see of that moment:

A cute little red headed me dancing and humming while I washed my face and put my dress on. I pulled the dress over my head, reached around to the back and zipped up the zipper as far as I could from the bottom. Then I reached from the top to try to grab it and zip it up the rest of the way…Dang! I couldn’t reach it! I started flailing around waving my arms up and down trying to reach it from different positions. I probably looked like a dog chasing its tail…spinning around like if I could find the right angle, I’d get it!

I went from surprised that I couldn’t reach it to frustrated in a moment. Once the frustration was upon me, it felt like my brain was shaking, my body was out of my control. I wanted to cry and hit something at the same time. I was moved from angry to sad and back, over and over until I finally just screamed. There were no words…just a primal yell. I fell into a puddle of tears until the adults came home and zipped me up. Once zipped up, I was good again.

As a teenager, my mom would sometimes come into the room and scream like that. As a teenager, I was too self centered to pay much attention. If I had, I would have realized she was screaming just like I had. I would have realized life had handed her something she just didn’t know how to handle and so she screamed. I was always a bit fascinated that she found it necessary to do it in front of me (and any friends who happen to be at the house). Part of me understood she’d had enough but it seemed like that should be a private thing.

I understand her more now. I understand that scream more now. That scream is the scream of powerlessness. Its when I have a challenge in front of me and I KNOW there is a tool to fix it and just don’t know what it is. And I understand why mom would share it (although I haven’t in some time). I think it was the only thing she could to do ask for help. That scream was her trying to say “I don’t know what to do, do you?!”

Where I live there are a lot of trains. Sometimes, when I can feel the scream coming on, I go to where the trains are passing by and hooting their horns and I scream. Sometimes I do it in the car. I don’t need to do it in front of people. These days, I have tools for life and loving folks who help me pick them up when I can’t find them. But sometimes the scream is still just the only way to let off a bit of the pressure.

If you have never really screamed, and you get the urge to…Do it! Its fabulous! Tears for Fears were on to something: