The Bloody Doors Off

This post is gonna piss off my friend Mollie.

I went to a movie tonight. By myself. Intentionally.

Normally MJ and I would check out the blockbuster offerings (and sometimes heckle them) but tonight I needed some personal space. So I booked a ticket to Ghostbusters: Afterlife.

It was delightful. And it quieted the almost non-stop nattering in my head through to the final end credits scene.

But I’m home now, and the chatter is slowly rising again. It’s been a hurricane up in my brain. I don’t know where the anxiety is being manifested, just that it comes crashing in like angry waves against stoic rock. The lighthouse keeps the ships at bay so they don’t smash against the craggy outcrop, but the light.

Flickers.

And I know that’s Harold at the switch.

He’s not gonna win.

I’m confident of that.

But I grow tired of fighting all the time.