Value of Venting
We had a classic example yesterday of an exchange between my stoic British husband and me, his Indian wife, reminiscent of E M Forster’s Indian friend and his John Bull character in Notes on the English Character. Haha!
The eagerly-awaited arrival of our daughter who lives in Germany was cancelled because India is reeling under the onslaught of Covid cases - daily numbers more than double compared to the combined numbers of the US and Brazil, we are told. After putting up a brave face online with my child, I later burst into tears. My husband tried to comfort me by saying quietly, “Never mind”! Equivalent to saying “calm down” to someone really upset. You know how well that goes!
My strong emotional reaction was, I do mind. I mind very much. And so much of what was suppressed came out. With reason, I must add. Apart from being heartbroken not to see my child, I was also looking forward for a break from being a principal caregiver as that was one of the reasons my daughter was coming. I was exhausted. And worried. We were totally isolated, as our condominium had become a corona hot zone. The last couple of months I’d been dizzy, losing focus and having bad headaches. It turned out my blood pressure had shot up to 162/97 and my GP said I’d been risking a stroke myself. I was suddenly fed up of trying to sound positive, putting on a smile and telling others, and myself, I was coping. I wasn’t. My emotions were all mixed up and turbulent. So, after a very long time, I bawled. It felt good. My shocked husband comforted me, and we swapped roles of rescuer. It felt good. For both of us!
I don’t usually express my political views on Linkedin, But will make an exception. I was also angry. Angry that those who were responsible for controlling the spread of the virus were superspreaders themselves with their massive election rallies going on for months in many parts of the country, and giving permission for, without exaggeration, millions to take part in religious events. Thus making a mockery of the very rules they had implemented. And the common man, woman and child were feeling the brunt with too few beds, ventilators and even crematoriums!
I was also terribly anxious because at least half-a-dozen of our neighbours in our condominium had tested positive and a few were hospitalised. Prayers, lighting lamps, sprinkling rose petals, and banging on thalis/plates hadn't done the trick, it seems. Our frontline fighters were exhausted and fighting against all odds, unable to visit their homes, their families, their children..
I needed badly to vent my cocktail of emotions that had been pushed down too long and was waiting for an outburst. It felt almost cathartic. Turns out my husband minded too, but was trying to put on a brave face for my benefit. We talked and listened, and agreed on one thing. False positivity was just as toxic. And recognising that it was a bad moment and shedding a few tears together was enormously healing.
Before we went to bed, my husband said, sorry it hit you hard. I’d recovered enough by then to smile and say, “Never mind”.