Thursday, July 14, 2022

Screaming into the Void

 I'm a person who regularly "screams into the void." What that means is that I write this blog, and I occasionally post on social media about my own mental health in the hope that somebody, somewhere out there in the void of the Internet hears something I've screamed and possibly even relates and connects with it so that we both feel less alone with our struggle. Screaming into the void is often the way I process life with mental illness, the trauma of living with mental illness, as well as how I'm thinking and feeling. I find that externally processing some of these things lessens the weight of them for me. 

Recently, I saw someone else screaming into the void as a way to process a traumatic event they had just survived. The person made a series of posts detailing how they reacted to the event while it was happening and how they were thinking and feeling in the aftermath of the traumatic event. I also saw, in the comments among the well wishes, prayers for healing and comfort, and validation of the storm of emotions the person was feeling, that there was a person who had bluntly and unkindly commented what basically translated to, "I've gone through stuff, too, but you don't see me posting about it online. This is a stupid way to process your trauma. You're really just looking for attention and sympathy from strangers on the Internet."

I know that everyone processes trauma differently. Some people prefer to be left alone with their trauma as they deal with it. Some people prefer to talk about it with their support system. Some people write about it as a way to process it, sometimes privately and sometimes publicly by "screaming into the void." None of those options are "attention-seeking" or "just a way to get sympathy." They're all valid ways to process trauma. (Extra tidbit: If you watched Sherlock on BBC, Dr. Watson's therapist asks him about the blog he's supposed to be writing to help him process his time in war.)

Experiencing trauma tends to isolate people. It's hard to talk about our thoughts and feelings about a traumatic event when we feel overwhelmed by them or when we don't really understand why we're thinking and feeling the way we are in the aftermath. Sometimes, screaming into the void is the only thing that keeps us from feeling so alone and feeling like we're drowning in the tidal waves of emotions we're trying to sort through. 

Screaming into the void often feels like a safer, more cathartic way to process trauma because it feels more anonymous than sharing with our everyday support system. When we see someone every day, like friends or family members, they develop these ideas of who we are as people, and they expect us to think, behave, and speak in certain ways that fall in line with that idea of who we are. We know this, so we may be worried about how these people think of us, and we'll probably be worried about shocking, worrying, or disappointing them. This concern for how they see us often leads us to censor ourselves to preserve their positive opinion or prevent disappointment, worry, or judgement. 

We don't have to worry about censoring ourselves if we're screaming into the void to people on the Internet that don't already know who we are. They don't have any preconceived notions about us or expectations for how we'll feel, think, or behave. This sort of distance can allow us to be more honest and more vulnerable than we would be able to be with people we see all the time, sort of like how the airport phenomenon works. 

And, honestly, sometimes it's nice to have a wider reach to connect with other people, especially if we feel like our friends and family might not truly understand something we're going through. With as many humans as there are on this planet, surely somebody can relate to something we've screamed into the void at some point. Maybe they scream into the void, too, saying, "Hey, I feel that same feeling, and it makes it easier to carry knowing someone else feels it, too." Because some things are easier to carry when you know you're not the only person on the planet that has had to carry it and survived. (That's why I always looked for someone else writing online about dealing my same kind of intrusive thoughts whenever a new theme would present.)

I'll end with this: People process trauma differently. Some people sit alone with their trauma. Some people talk it out with their support system. Some people write about it privately in a journal or dairy. Some people "scream into the void" by writing about it online to feel less alone with it. Externally processing trauma isn't attention-seeking or sympathy-seeking behavior. It's a valid way to process that works for some people and not for others.