The Scream

(The Scream – Edvard Munch (1863-1944)



















Author: Ellie Thompson

Writing my memoirs, musings, a little fiction and a lot of poetry as a way of exploring and making the most of my life ... ... Having had a break from writing my blog for more than three years, I decided to return to write my memoirs, some day-to-day observations, views and feelings. My passion is non-fiction poetry. I have a disability and use an electric powerchair called Alfie and let nothing get in the way of living life to the full. I believe that you can never do a kindness too soon and should give credit where credit is due. A smile or a kind word could make the difference between a good or bad day for a person - we never know what's going on for another soul. Those little things, perhaps, practised daily like a mantra, could mean so much to someone else. Thank you for visiting my blog and reading a little more about me. Please, make yourself at home here. You are very welcome. Ellie x 😊

36 thoughts on “The Scream”

    1. Oh, Devang, what a beautiful comment. I really appreciate the time it must have taken you to write these words in this particular way. I love the ending – ‘A hope, A push, A future, A smile.’ It’s very encouraging, as all your comments are. Thank you so much, My friend. X

    1. Thank you so much, Ann, for your kind and generous words. When I published this last night, I was disappointed in myself and nearly didn’t post it as I didn’t think it was very good. I don’t always have a lot of confidence in my work, but am pleasantly surprised and very honoured that so many people think my writing is okay.

      Currently, so much of my thinking is around losing my counsellor, as I’ve often mentioned. I have one session next week, nothing for two weeks over Christmas and my final appointment, which I’m dreading, is on the 4th of January. That’s definitely affecting my writing. Once counselling has ended on that day, I’ve no idea which direction my journey will take me. I hope I don’t lose my ability to write. X

    1. Thank you for your comment and your wise words, J. I still haven’t managed to scream physically, but I guess this poem was as near as I could get to that. I’m glad screaming brings you so much peace and silence in your mind 💜 x

  1. I agree with Ann here, Ellie, your words match the painting perfectly. I was lucky enough to see this painting when I visited Oslo some years ago. I was taken back by how small the original was. Maybe a small scream is all we need.

    1. Thank you for your kind words, Dave. How lovely to have seen the original painting. I didn’t realise it was particularly small, either, although I haven’t seen the real thing. I would have guessed it was bigger. I’ll try and work on the small scream. I just can’t manage a loud one. Thanks again.

  2. Yes, sometimes screaming helps. But just as importantly, after the scream take a deep breath, hold it a moment, then slowly release it. It may help to move you gently into a slightly better place.

    1. Thanks, Mick. I can’t physically scream even if I try. I definitely I prefer your suggestion on breathing. How are you doing, Mick? Have you got any plans for Christmas or New Year?

        1. Sounds good to me, Mick. Having said that, I usually have a very quiet Christmas on my own, but this year, I’m hoping it will be different as my family are going to try and come over sometime during the holidays, which is unusual. I feel it will be good for me to have them here as it’ll take my mind off of my own issues.

              1. Ah. I’ll catch up with blogs tomorrow – we had a getting-marooned-in-the-snow-with-broken-trains-and-putting-up-in-a-hotel-overnight day yesterday.

              2. Oh, dear. That wasn’t good. Hope you’re all safely home and in the warm now. We didn’t get the snow until last night. It hasn’t thawed yet. Take your time to read my blog – I’m not going anywhere for the foreseeable …

              3. All good now, Ellie. We got home at eleven this morning and were quite well off really – a decent hotel not far from the station we’d reached (Ashford) which the train company will reimburse us for. It could have been a heck of a lot worse.

  3. What perfect words to capture the feeling of this famous imagery. As women, we are so conditioned to keep our anger inside that it proceeds to bubble away furiously until we either yell or harm ourselves in some way (drink too much, eat too much, etc.) What would the world be like if women/all people were allowed to feel and express their feelings? What would it feel like to have someone listen as you scream it all out?

    1. Thank you, Bridgette. You are so right. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to scream in my whole life, not even when I’m alone and no one can hear me. Fifteen years ago, I used to drink too much to ‘drown my sorrows’, as they say. I’ve been sober for over ten years now. These days, or at least lately, I’m overeating and putting on weight, which I’m not happy about. I think with me; it’s because my counselling is coming to an end next week. I’m not eating very healthily, either, whereas I’ve always been good about eating a healthy, sensible vegan diet. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to be able to scream. Xx 💕

      1. Perhaps you are a late screamer 🙂 I don’t scream either, but I do scribble so hard in my journal it tears the pages. I have also burned things in the fire and broken a dish or two. Those are the ways I vent the anger.

        1. I’m glad you have found ways to let your anger out sometimes even if it’s not literal screaming. I’ve only once burned something and that was twelve years’ worth of personal diaries from the part of my life when I was seriously mentally unwell, self-destructive and suicidal. I decided I didn’t ever want my children or grandchildren to ever know about these things. I had a builder here at the time and he was burning a lot of old wooden doors in an incinerator in the garden. On the spur of the moment, I handed him this big cardboard box full of diaries and asked him to put them on the fire. I couldn’t access my garden to do this myself. I watched them all go up in smoke. I don’t know now whether it was cathartic at the time, but it was a relief that my children would never be able to read them. I didn’t want their memories of me to be tainted that badly. Now, I do know I made the right decision. Xx 💛

          1. I’m so glad you burned those. You can also freeze things you want to literally ice out of your life. I’ve done this too/writing a name or idea I need gone and freezing it. Those tiny slips of paper are still in there-way way in the back.

    1. That’s interesting. I’ve read your post and would love to come along to Oslo to the Munch Museum. You are very fortunate to be going. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for letting me know about your post, too 😊.

      1. Thank you very much, dear Ellie,
        we are sure we will love our visit at the Munch. We have been at the old collection of Munch’s painting at Oslo.
        Happy Easter holidays
        The Fab Four of Cley
        🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: