But I think I’m recovered, for the most part. I’m not im Agony anyway so I’ll take it.
I’ve been going back through some of Mike Flanagans older work with the husband after the great success with Fall of the House of Usher. This weekend was all about that Haunting up at Hill house, which he found slow at first but it’s starting connect. We ended the night with an episode I knew was going to have me in tears. Even though I’ve seen it before, I was still weeping for more than half of the episode it felt like. The conversations around mental health, paired with the scripted tragedies gnaw at me, Nells plight is relatable and even to a lesser degree the night terror sleep paralysis. My husband teases me and exasperated “still!?” When even after the episode is done I still have rivers running.
I tell him to shut the fuck up, he doesn’t get to tell me how long I can cry for.
It’s taken in good humor, he tries to make me laugh to replace the tears by reminding me about earlier in the day when I was talking shit to him and accidently ate the full bit of Wasabi that came with my sushi and the dramatic reaction that follows.
It works I’m laughing . I chase my sorrow with a shot of honey whiskey.
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