Perhaps I'm like a guy in this perspective, but I see talking as a weakness. I write, so I guess I'm letting all the bad stuff leak out somehow. But talking, admitting, confessing... makes me feel so weak.
Another problem with keeping it all in is that eventually you run out of space. And explode (metaphorically, heh heh). And these explosions can often occur around poor, unsuspecting bystanders.
I've become rather adept at crying in public (I'm not admitting this for sympathy so don't start freaking out and worrying.), its actually a rather cathartic experience. But bursting into tears in a cinema lounge... kind of embarrassing. Even more embarrassing? It was all over a slushie.
Yes, that's right. Someone asked me if I'd like a slushie and I began choking back sobs. Rather unsuccessfully.
Um, the moral? Don't ever offer me a slushie.