I’ve always been sort of intense. When people hear that they are often surprised, remarking how calm I seem, which I think is hilarious. A while back I was in my (super intense) workout class, and I was urging the instructor to put on electronic dance music — my favorite. A guy asked, “How can you stand to listen to that music? It’s like having someone bang on your head with a mallet.” I just looked at him, thinking, “Well, that’s what it’s like inside my head all the time.” At least with that music I’ve got a melody to it.
This is what it often feels like…though maybe I would change it to “my insides vs. my outsides…”
In fairness, the screaming inside my head has calmed down over the years. But it’s still there, humming in the background, waiting for full throat opportunities.
Several years ago, the pressure was building to a level that was pretty scary. It had to come out somehow…enter Profanity Therapy.
Profanity Therapy was something I embraced when my life had somehow gotten so off track, I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I was so unhappy and angry and crazed inside my head I thought I was losing my mind. I really was losing my mind. So on a regular basis I kissed the kids goodnight, waved goodbye to my husband, got in my minivan, drove to a parking lot somewhere (ironically, the closest one was a church), and screamed at the top of my lungs every rage-filled, tormented, profane, heart-broken, irrational, and taboo thought and feeling that I had managed to keep suppressed until that moment.
I was so overhwelmingly enraged at Life. I hated myself beyond words. I couldn’t stop the litany of all the reasons why, the verbal shaking of my fist at this cruel joke that had been played on me. Being “me” felt like a punishment that I couldn’t ever atone for, didn’t know what I had done to deserve, and couldn’t figure out how to get out of. On and on I screamed, using the foulest language I could think of — and it didn’t even come close to matching the pain I was trying to express and relieve.
But it helped. It wasn’t pretty or nice, but it was real. It was a relief to just say it, to say the worst of everything in my head, to say it all out loud. I also did EFT tapping while I was ranting and raving, which absolutely helped to clear the energy of it, so all that crazy stuff wasn’t just bouncing around the van on a loop. Driving home afterwards, I felt lightened, relieved, less crazy, more able to function like a “normal” human being. Whew.
After a while, I unloaded the huge backlog of stuck energy and the need to do it lessened.
I still have those moments, though far fewer and less intensely. I still have strong reactions; I still have that pressure, constantly. I occasionally still need to scream into a pillow, or yell at the top of my lungs in the car just to get it out. I do EFT every day. But since I moved out that gigantic backlog, I’m more in “maintenance” mode. That backlog, though, is a mother.
So although I don’t sit with my clients in their cars (by all means explore your own version of Profanity Therapy yourself), I do encourage my clients to tell me whatever is inside their head, using exactly the language that their Inner Nasty Self is using, which can set your hair on fire. I know it can’t be any worse than what I’ve said myself, so nothing they say scares or offends me in the least.
As they do that, we move the energy of it. We do EFT or Spinal Release, and we just let it fly. We say it all. If a client is having trouble getting the words out, I am happy to get it started. I’m not shy at all about it. I get tuned in, and go for it. Once we get going it can be actually a lot of fun. It’s actually quite exhilarating to finally say some of this secret shame stuff out loud.
Using energy psych techniques as we go is what really transforms the patterns from traumatizing to liberating. It truly is magical, and the miracles that happen every day with it is what keeps me in awe of the incredible power of the human spirit to heal.
So I’ve come to embrace, even love, that inner intensity — in myself, and in others.
In embracing that inner intensity, ironically, I can find peace there. I’m no longer making it wrong or bad, or me wrong or bad. It’s just…intensity. It’s just energy. It’s just my Human Design. Instead of trying to wrestle it to the ground and kill it, I’ve learned to go with it, which is so much more fluid and easy. The truth is, is that anger, rage, all that not-nice stuff, is part of being human. Compassion is important, love is the answer, ultimately, but anger and rage is part of the mix too. Often the intense energy of anger is the only thing powerful enough to overcome the fear that is keeping us stuck in an unhappy place and holding us back. It’s the part of us that is our strongest and most powerful advocate for what we want, and tells us in no uncertain terms when we’re not being treated well.
But first, we have to face it — face all the anger, rage, and the pain it’s protecting. We have to face the years of telling ourselves stories about it, face the stories we’ve told ourselves about ourselves for feeling it in the first place — “what is wrong with you?”
Scary — absolutely terrifying — but ultimately, totally liberating, and a way to true inner peace.
Hugs,
Martha
