Is Venting Good For You?

How bad was the traffic, Gilbert?

Let me vent for a second. By "a second," I mean as long as I like. But then, you knew that, because I'm Venting. If you've been Vented at, you know that time is not a prime consideration of the Venter.

The title, "Is Venting Good For You?" promises another piece of pop quasi-science. Since frustration (and the need to communicate it) is universal, the title attempts to wrangle the human condition for its own ends. The title is also posed as a question, which implies that 1) the author has not reached a conclusion, or 2) the author has reached a conclusion and is holding out on you in an attempt at suspense, and/or 3) the author hopes to convey his even-handed approach to a legitimate investigation.

In my view, this sort of title is ubiquitous because, 4) it has proven to generate traffic, despite the fact that it is artless, and deftly avoids doing what titles have done historically: indicate the thesis or thrust of the article, because the author is compiling a sloppy hodgepodge of extant information on a well-worn topic and dressing it up as an earnest inquiry.

Phew. Do I feel better? Not really. I have vented, and the conventional wisdom says I should be relaxing about now. But upon rereading what I've just typed, my rhetoric inspires in me the same feelings of discontent that prompted the words in the first place. My cortisol levels remain dangerous, I can tell. Where there should be dopamine, there is only a dusty twister. 

This interaction is missing something crucial: you, or someone like you. (Obviously, you're irreplaceable. I'd rather have you, but I'd make do with anyone.) A good venting session is incomplete without some sort of validation. This seems to spread a finite amount of angst across a psychic space twice the size; any engineer will explain that the pressure on the venter will accordingly decrease. (Meanwhile, it increases on the ventee, as any ventee will tell you.) If you were listening, and said something like, "Yeah, I hate vacuous click-bait articles with silly titles too," then I might feel better. Right? I'd feel less alone, because what felt like an irritation borne of the friction between me and the world would become something shared, and the resulting solidarity would diminish said friction to an acceptable level.

But what if venting was not a release at all, but rather a reinforcement of our own rage? What if the seemingly-healthy act of simply complaining about other drivers and our boyfriends and Congress and people who smoke too close to the building is fortifying a rampart of gloom deep inside us somewhere? I have tried certain gripes on for size, found I liked the fit, and purchased them. They become mine, and eventually graduate to the status of Pet Peeve, even though I avoid the phrase "pet peeve" because it's gleefully precious and self-indulgent. In fact, I'm forcing myself to use it, because the phrase itself is a Pet Peeve of mine, and Pet Peeves themselves are exercises in self-indulgence.

Sometimes a simple scalp massage will do the trick.

What's wrong with self-indulgence, ergo, what is wrong with venting? It's not my job to tell you that, or even arguably to be talking about this at all. But after years of selling extracts and tonics to calm people down, help them sleep, manage stress, and all the rest, I thought it would be novel to try examining the roots rather than pruning the branches.

So, like I was saying, what's wrong with self-indulgence? Well, if you're going to indulge, it should be fun, at least. Venting is less like candy, and more like anesthetic. When the numbness disappears, the pain will still be there.

So please, do try kava kava. Do enjoy the benefits of Omega 3s, and restful sleep, and the proper quotient of Vitamin B12. But consider, for instance, what this article from Psychology Today tells us: venting feels good while it's happening, but has very little lasting benefit, and generally negative psychological consequences. If you like, here's another interesting article with a similar take. I'm feeling generous, so here's another, from livescience.com. Perhaps you'd like to peruse this lifehacker.com article, which espouses the same idea. 

This temple is like, way too loud, and I'm going to snap.

Obviously, not all venting is the same. Stoicism has its place, but people need to share their feelings.* But there's a Pettiness Threshold™ that an event should cross before we decide to begin chattering to ourselves and our fellow humans about it. Not because venting is "wrong," but because we'll actually feel better in the long run by showing some restraint and pursuing reflection, and feeling better is what this blog is all about.

Frustration and anxiety are natural symptoms of living, but they can have a big impact on both health and well-being. I'll be examining the issue of frustration and its effect on health further in the coming entries. If you like what you read, tell a friend. If you don't, keep it to yourself—for the sake of your health.

Before we see each other again, I challenge you to listen to this the next time you find yourself in a tizzy. I promise I'll do the same.



*I guess.