At Least They're Committed

Hard to tell what the trigger will be and how the assault will begin. The anxiety — the difficulty breathing, mind racing, eyes darting, threat at every turn — that began last night with no sleep and carried through today started casually in a meeting, where I laughed and faux hurled when someone’s name was mentioned. That was the trigger. Not the person’s name, rather what it recalled. Bang. Laying in bed last night thinking back, reliving the fear, recognizing that nothing is ever really over and that as long as the obsessed, the antagonistic, the weak and the lewd walk among us neither I nor others like me will ever be safe. You can have good intentions and still be a bad person, and in truth I count myself among those. But you can’t have bad intentions and be a good person, and those concern me the most.