I was expected to do both as a child; suffer in silence and scream and cry. Anything my sociopath, pedophile, serial killer father did to me I had to zip my lips about especially to him and also to my narcissist mother. She didn't give a rat's ass how I felt or what my father had done to me. With anything my mother and older brother did to me directly, I was their scapegoat, I was expected to scream and cry. They wanted to hear me complain because they got a charge out of it. Thankfully, I no longer have contact with any of these people.
Currently, I've got three places where I get to tell the truth about my suffering: myptsdforum and especially my Trauma Diary, my husband, and my therapist. Well, make that four. The most important place is with/within myself.
My husband knows on a daily basis what's going on with me, the physical and the emotional/mental. Though I don't share with him the memories in depth, he now knows more of what I'm going through than he ever has. When he picks me up from therapy the first thing he asks me is, "How did everything go today?" He never used to ask that. We've got a new understanding now, he's more involved in my healing journey. I think it helped him to realize that my PTSD is not about him and that there's absolutely nothing he can do to make it go away or change me. There's one way he can make my day easier and that is to not add to my misery. I'd say he's doing better these days than he used to in regards to my PTSD. He's learned that adding a load to my day in any way could have bad consequences especially when I'm already loaded up with stress.
