Everyday life can occasionally seem like a string of bad birthdays. No matter how old we are or how many times we’re disappointed, we still harbor expectations. Not big or outlandish, necessarily, but starry-eyed. We can’t help it, hope springs eternal.
After about 12 — okay, 30 — we reluctantly and grudgingly come to terms with reality. We quit anticipating parades and public adoration and learn to settle for a cake and birthday cards stuffed with cash. Sure, it’s a letdown, but we keep it to ourselves.
And that’s life, you know? It comes up short and we’re quietly, secretly crestfallen. Why is that, why do we hide it? Wouldn’t it be healthier to behave like Howard Beale — the guy in Network who was ‘mad as hell and not going to take it anymore?’ We shouldn’t keep things bottled up. We’ll get ulcers or high blood pressure or migraines, something bad.
Give vent to your frustration, I say. Speak up. Tell the world. Don’t, whatever you do, suffer in silence. That’s hard on the ego and probably self-destructive to boot. If you’re not good with words, scream or punch something that won’t punch back (or cost a lot to replace). This is actually good for you, therapeutic. It’s also simple, affordable, fast-acting, and downright empowering.
Afterward, relief courses through every last corpuscle. You’re left feeling jazzed, totally rejuvenated. It might not solve the problem or improve the situation, but the mental health benefits cannot be overstated. The physical benefits, too, are enormous. We become different people: strong, confident, less stressed.
Not only that, we hear the dirt on everyone in a three-block radius and feel better about ourselves as a result. Our problems seem measly in comparison. So what are you waiting for? Open the window and let ‘er rip.