Did you ever one of THOSE days? You know I’ve had more than my fair share of late. Yesterday was particularly distressing, one that I felt was needing of a primal scream.
Ever since I read this piece on the benefits of why screaming for self-care was beneficial, which was offered to me when my transitional life was beginning to unravel, I’ve been as evangelical about it as the author, THE WELLNEST’s Margaret Tartakovsky, is. As she offers:
Screaming (on purpose!) isn’t just a woo-woo way of expressing your feelings. Screaming your heart out or your head off is actually part of primal therapy, developed by Dr. Arthur Janov in the 1960s. Dr. Janov speculated that screaming—and other physical outlets like sobbing—could help release repressed childhood trauma. He called this trauma “primal pain,” and believed that screaming could help people recover from it.
At the time, primal therapy was fairly popular, thanks in large part to Dr. Janov’s celebrity clients, like John Lennon and Yoko Ono. Today, however, primal therapy is considered controversial with most therapists unconvinced of its effectiveness. Mostly, this is because primal therapy rejects all other forms of therapy. (Quick reminder: Methods like cognitive behavioral therapy are well-studied to provide benefits for a range of mental health conditions.)
Still, screaming itself can be helpful in conjunction with other mental health tools, mainly because of its cathartic effects.
Except my track record with this kind of release hasn’t been all that positive. When I exercised it after a series of angry texts around midnight while I was working an overnight production job triggered me, after I retired to a nearly deserted parking lot to exercise this therapy out of earshot of my socially distanced colleagues, I made the fatal error of opening my mouth just as a security officer was rounding a curve, and was required to write me up. In a zero tolerance production world that was spooked by a constantly moving target of how to work around rapidly changing COVID protocols, with millions of dollars at stake, a perceived risk like me was summarily dismissed from my duties. It cost me nearly $8000, money that when I look at the meager amount I have to my name today makes me want to scream all that much more.
And everywhere I look, it seems that the desire for people to cover their mouths is again gaining steam. As THE EPOCH TIMES’ Matthew Lysiak chronicled, it’s been an active time for those who are advocates for hoping we return to a world of more stringent measures similar to the one I last held an eight-hour-a-day job away from home in:
Nearly one year after President Joe Biden declared the pandemic over, some collegein some parts of the country, mask mandates have already arrived. A slight uptick in the virus led two hospitals in Syracuse, New York, University and Community General, to reimpose mandatory face-masking and COVID testing on Aug. 17, according to local news outlets.s and work places have reinstituted mask mandates amid reports that the administration is set to roll out new COVID regulations as early as next month.
In Los Angeles, major Hollywood studio Lionsgate demanded employees cover their faces at its Santa Monica office buildings. The policy was announced in an internal memo obtained by Deadline, demanding that “Employees must wear a medical grade face covering (surgical mask, KN95 or N95) when indoors except when alone in an office with the door closed, actively eating, actively drinking at their desk or workstation, or if they are the only individual present in a large open workspace.” Health officials are also beginning to urge the return of face coverings among the general public. The Los Angeles County Public Health agency has recommended that higher-risk residents need to wear masks, citing a rise in COVID cases.
In a city like this, I suppose I have no choice but to accept that on the surface, the fact that I would even think of reading anything from a publication like this, let alone question the need for companies like Lionsgate to reinstate a mandate at this time given the actual data on hand, would brand me as a certified lunatic, much like the type that are, if one is to believe Giulia Carbonaro of NEWSWEEK, literally begging to be ripped off by the most beloved 6’3″, 215 pound blond/strawberry tousled paragon of virtue ever created by mankind:
T-shirts, mugs and other merchandise featuring Donald Trump‘s historic—and already viral—mugshot are allegedly already finding buyers online, according to social media users, with the former president commercializing his own booking photograph.
Trump—who’s currently the favorite candidate in polling for the Republican primary for the 2024 presidential election—launched a new mugshot-inspired line on his campaign site that includes T-shirts, mugs and stickers.
“NEVER SURRENDER,” reads the slogan on the T-shirts, which are priced at $34, the mugs, priced at $25, and the 4″x4″ set of two stickers, which the website suggests people stick on the back of their car.
Several people responded by saying it was a “done deal,” adding that they would buy “only on Trump’s store. To support Trump.”
“It will be the best-selling t-shirt in history. And I want one,” said one X user. “Got the mugshot mug and T-shirt!!!,” wrote another.
Considering so many of these “customers” are also the type to support companies that advertise heavily on Kirk’s and similar-minded programs such as My Patriot Supply, it’s no surprise they are literally screaming “shut up and take my money!”
Incidentally, take a look at the quality nutrition you can get from the best seller bundle, a 90-day supply priced at just under $800. Virtually every meal is comprised of starches (rice or pasta) and fat-laden rich sauces or soup bases. I’m sorry, any reasonable dietician will tell you that a diet like that for any extended period will destroy whatever you define as a healthy lifestyle, and even in the post-apocalyptic world that these customers envision is imminent, one might not live long enough to finish all the yummy food you can get for that low, low, price. (Want protein? Sure, for $147 more). ‘
The kind of world that the most famous basketball player and SNL comedy inspiration all but insisted should be deemed imminent when she somehow found a pulpit of her own last night, as MediasTouch’s Ron Filipkowski reported:
Sarah Palin went on Newsmax tonight after Trump was booked, and all but called for civil war:
“Those who are conducting this travesty … I want to ask them, ‘What the heck?’ Do you want us to be in civil war? Because that’s what’s going to happen. We’re not gonna keep putting up with this … We need to get angry, we need to rise up and take our country back.”
Well, she can see Russia from her house, which will at least allow her the chance to scope out alternative housing.
I fall down these rabbit holes because my own life right now is personally scarier. I can’t go into details, but I’m potentially facing some legal challenges of my own. No, I’m not being indicted, like my fellow Queens native. But someone would really, really like to see me behind bars.
And no, it’s not because I don’t see the need to wear a mask. And lest you think I’m whollyunreasonable, I was actually with someone yesterday who did show me some care and consideration, took me to lunch and yes, wore a medical grade mask. This person had really sound personal reasons and chose to make that decision, and didn’t wish to impose his beliefs on me. He knew darn well my own history and respected it. And I respected him. And I’m grateful for the support.
My challenges are far more severe. Bluntly, I need to work more consistently. Every suggestion I get that does not involve a DIRECT CONNECTION TO AN ACTUAL PERSON WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR HIRING SOMEONE FOR A CURRENTLY OPEN POSITION is exhaustingly futile. Forgive the text version of screaming. It’s all I can get away with, and today, I have to at least have that outlet. I’m THAT SCARED.
I can reach top CEOs at multi-billion dollar companies, but they’re far too professional to demand that the people below them hire me, especially since I really don’t fit the demographic tickmarks. The one person I have met in the last three-plus years who actually can do that, consistently enough that they’ve traveled to Europe FOUR TIMES IN A YEAR despises me so much I’m concerned they may be the source of my legal worries, and if it were legally possible they’d want to extract even more permanent revenge of me. Believe me, the combination of fear and heartbreak over this possibility is devastating. Almost as devastating as every alert I get from my bank on how my account continues to drop.
I cajole, pitch, apply, ask, get connected to people in the know who refer me, and yet–as I sit here in yet another agitated state of panic–literally no one who meets the qualifiers I text-shouted above has responded. Existing projects that have payments awaiting are still in limbo. I can’t even afford a tank of gas.
I want to scream way more than I did on that fateful night in the parking lot. I wish I could find people eager enough to buy a t-shirt with my face on it. I wish I could find people who think spending $1000 to stash some freeze-dried meat and a whole lotta dried noodles in a silo is a good idea to consider giving me even a fraction of it. The world isn’t coming to an end anytime soon. so we’re stuck with each other. Bluntly, I need more help than anyone one trying to con you out of your hard-earned money in the ways I’ve just described.
But I’m not part of that world, nor would I ever want to be. I need people to believe that who I am is who I insist I’ve become, not what YOU think I must be.
Clearly, based on some of the folks who actually do read this, I’m somehow connecting to those for whom I will defend their right to believe as they do, even if they lack the capacity to offer me the same respect.
So if that happens to apply to any of you let me calmly, politely, ask once more for you to consider the link below and take the action I so regret I need to reiterate but, life goes on, and, once again, rent is due and I still live in a zero-tolerance world.
Please don’t make me scream. Again. No mask can muffle the intensity I’m feeling.
Until next time…