That's not a tickle in your throat, it's an urge to shout.
I took a deep breath, buried my face in the pillow and screamed. What I thought would be a guttural roar came out as the pained cry of a wounded animal. It was years of anger coated in sadness and disappointment. I had been ignoring it, suppressing it, storing it in my body until it felt convenient to release it. It had been waiting impatiently for me to acknowledge it. Sending signals of skin flare-ups and teeth grinding in my sleep. What had paved the way for this release?