The Scream

I finally 'get' The Scream - that silent painting by Munch. I have a secret I can't tell. It's a bad secret I wish I didn't know. I can't do a thing about it and it's making me hurt like I've only known a few times. I walk around my house saying things like 'I can't stand it anymore' and 'I don't know what to do'. The whole thing is far out of my hands but it is still hurting me deeply. And I am afraid. I am afraid that something worse will happen and I didn't tell. It is a bad position to be in.

Why do we tell deep and dark secrets to others? It makes us feel better to share. If a situation is out of control and we keep it inside it is sure to explode and spread our dirty little secret like body parts blown up by a hand grenade. So when we share the pressure valve releases. But the person who is now our secret keeper is in a dire place. They are a passive holder of information over which they have no power. They are the carer of information that can no longer fit in any container. They have to carry it around draped on their own back like a shawl made from iron chains.

I feel heavy and scared. I am trying to cope with a knowing that, now, I cannot share. I am screaming at the top of my lungs with no air to push it out. Secret Keeper is not romantic as in the fairytales of old. It is a lonely place, a dark cave, a frustration, a shame. It is a Silent Scream.