The Screaming Man on the Park Bench

I get weird when I’m tired.

Like really weird.

Just outright bizarre.

And I’ve been tired a lot lately.

You’re always thinking something, right? But you might not always be actively thinking a thought, y’know? Sometimes your mind drifts into this fluid space between your conscious and subconscious, and random, often nonsensical thoughts hit you out of nowhere.

I fall into that fluid space easily and often when I haven’t had much sleep. And as I’ve mentioned before, I’ve been tired a lot lately.

See, most of the time, when you’ve been properly…sleepdrated (like hydrated but for sleep? There has to be a word for this that I can’t think of…but sleepdrated will do for now.), one of these weird thoughts fly at you like,

Hey you know what would be fun? Jumping into oncoming traffic!

and you can immediately distinguish that this is not a wise decision, it would not in fact be fun. You realize that it wasn’t your regular thoughts, your mind has drifted into the abyss, and you revert your focus and stay on the sidewalk.

There are those few times, though, when you are not fully equipped with the energy and sense to shut down these weird ideas. And when you let them linger in your head too long, they become their own thing and become harder and harder to stop. And thus we have the screaming man on the park bench.

My boyfriend picked me up from work one night after I pulled a 13 hour shift between two locations of my job. It was a pretty silent ride, as I was exhausted and he was focused on not letting us die at the hands of a New Jersey driver. We passed a park, and I broke into an uncontrollable giggle fit. I could not get it together. After maybe ten minutes, my laughing and tears subsided just enough to explain myself. Unfortunately for Dave, my sleep deprivation did not allow me the sense to share that it was a fleeting thought from my subconscious mind…

“There is a man sitting on a park bench, and he won’t stop screaming.”

“What? Where?”

“There’s a man. He just walked up one day, sat down at a bench, and screamed. He’s still screaming. He won’t stop.”

“At that park? What man? I didn’t see anyone screaming.”

“Why is he screaming? Does anybody know!? That man…”

“Uhm…okay I think it’s time we get you home.”

A few days go by after that. Dave and I are eating breakfast.

“He’s going to become a tourist attraction. He’s going to be on the news.”


“The screaming man on the park bench. He easily became a nuisance after like the first day.”

“Stormy, WHAT SCREAMING MAN??? Did you see this guy?”

“But why is he screaming, though? Is he sad? Is he angry? Is this personal or is this a protest?”

“I can’t with you.”

“Whole think-pieces are probably going to be written about him,” I yell as Dave walks out of the room, “like who he is, where he came from, if he has family! What does his family think?”

Another week, another night vedging out with Dave after a long day at work.

“Have you ever seen the music video for ‘Days Go By’ by Dirty Vegas?”

“Nope, never heard of it.”

“You need to see it.”

“…Okay? That’s not really the kind of music I go for.”

“No, the video!”

“What about it?”

“Maybe he lost somebody.”


“The screaming man…on the park bench.”


Weeks later, Dave and I are venting about work drama.

“They can’t keep working me to death like this. One more week without a day off and I’m gonna…I’m gonna go to the park.”

“You’re gonna what?”

“I’m gonna go to the park, sit on a bench, and scream.”

My mouth dropped. “Oh my gosh. YOU’RE the screaming man on the park bench??? Am I clairvoyant!?”

“No…and no, but I think I can relate to him.”

“I think I can relate to him too sometimes. Maybe we all can.”

Maybe we all can.”

I get really weird when I’m tired. So weird, it’s contagious.

Huh…I wonder if the screaming is contagious…

He could garner a following! Maybe there will be screaming women on park benches! Woah…that screaming man..



I didn’t get much sleep last night.

I laid in bed yesterday, just staring into the dark for a while. Twas a nice time for contemplating and whatnot, as I listened to the birds outside my window, calling to each other. I thought to myself, gosh…if we don’t have the slowest birds in this neighborhood!

Oh did I forget to mention that it was three in the morning? Yeah, 3am. What the feezy were those things doing chirping like they were welcoming a new dawn? Go to sleep! And re-calibrate your body clock, because this nature thing? You’re kinda doing it wrong.

Then I wake up in the morning to hear the hooting of owls in broad daylight. This area has the most inappropriate wildlife, I swear.


I can’t really talk though. You know how in The Sims 3, you make your sim’s personality traits? If I were a sim, Inappropriate would definitely be one of the five. And I don’t mean just socially awkward things, or even conscious actions. I mean, I do sometimes scroll through my Facebook news feed and like sad statuses. But that’s not what I mean. It runs much deeper than that.


I’m that girl you’ll see walking down the street in the middle of July wearing uggs. I find it a great time to finally wear all of my skirts in 30 degree and colder weather. I just never calculate the weather into my fashion plans. I know, it’s probably the first thing that most normal people consider when deciding what to wear. But I never claimed to be normal, and I screw myself over constantly for it. And you would think it would be an easy problem to fix. Just start checking the weather before I get ready. I can literally ask my phone what it’s like outside and have my answer so I could dress accordingly. Simple.

It doesn’t matter though. I’m just not cut out to be normal. Because see, I’ll do that. I’ll check the weather, and then open my closet, prepared to find some appropriate attire. But I’m suddenly blinded to all clothes meant for the current season. In the summer time, all I happen to see in my room are sweaters. Everywhere. I think to myself, I know I have a bunch of tanks and crop tops, where the heck did I put them? I guess I’ll just wear this sweatshirt today. November rolls around and hey! There’s all my sleeveless shirts. Weird! And then my sweaters go invisible to me for the next few months. I don’t get it either.

Oh, it gets worse.

So picture this. You’re in church with your family, the service is going on, and this woman a few rows in front of you starts shaking uncontrollably. And she didn’t catch the Holy Spirit or something weird, no she was having a full-blown seizure. Everyone starts taking notice, and your pastor asks if someone with medical expertise could step in and help. Your mother, a nurse, leaps over the pew, runs over to the woman, and assists a doctor who also ran over.

And then there’s you.¬†Watching all of this go down, shocked and worried for the woman’s life, and giggling uncontrollably¬†in the midst of chaos.

Welcome to my life, folks. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but for some reason I laugh when I’m sad, scared, worried, or stressed in one way or another. It’s not like I find situations like the one above funny in any way, I just…I don’t know. Science? I’m broken guys, simply put.

I used to always fight the urge to laugh when my parents punished me as a kid. I remember a few occasions where I failed to hold in my giggling and got in more trouble.

I don’t attend funerals…

Inappropriate emotions is apparently a symptom of numerous mental disorders, so let’s hope I’ve reached my cap on crazy. I don’t think this is an unheard of…quirk, that people have. So don’t come at me angry or crying, because I will laugh at you, but only because I care. But you won’t accept that, and I would like to stay friends please. So yeah…stay away.