ELENA:Block that number
AVERY:[gif of dog surrounded by fire saying “this is fine”]
COLE:Here’s what you do, I mean, tell your “friend” to do it. You text that person back 52 times and each time is a different card from a deck. So ya know, two of hearts, threeof hearts, etc., until they start complaining. Ignore their complaints. Keep texting them. Then, time it so there’s a delivery at their door at the same time you’re sending a joker card. Except, the delivery guy doesn’t have any food. It’s me. I’m the delivery guy. And I punch your boyfriend in the face. I mean, not your boyfriend, the person who called your “friend” 52 times
RILEY:This^
ELENA:Punching will get you arrested for assault. Instead, hire someone to follow them all day with a trumpet and have them play it anytime he tries to speak. Better yet, a full mariachi band. I know a guy.
AVERY:OR your friend could communicate their issues with this person and see if they can see reason and maybe stop the unwanted behavior. Maybe set some boundaries?
COLE:Boring.
HAILEY:I will let you know when I’m ready to resort to violence or mariachi bands. Perhaps a combination mariachi hit squad. Is that a thing? It’s quite a disguise.
HAILEY:I mean, not me. My friend
ABBY:<3
3
“I'M SORRY, GO BACK. Did you sayfifty-twomissed calls?”
Her therapist, Marley, couldn’t hide the shock on her face in their online session. Hailey had been seeing her for the last five months, sometimes online and sometimes in her office.
She couldn’t talk to Gage because he thought it was something she should be able to fix overnight by thinking positively. Kind of like the weekly emails she used to get at work. They were just graphics that claimed all she needed to do to “fix her case of the Mondays” was get outside and have good vibes. What a shocker that didn’t cure the depression.
The disease was hard to explain to some people. Apparently, there were others that existed in the world that walked around actually enjoying life and didn’t feellike the world was caving in on them. What was that like? Then, there was pressure from all sides that made her feel like she was never good enough. She tried acting like everything was fine, and most people couldn’t tell anything was wrong with her. It was exhausting putting on a front all the time.
She couldn’t tell you how many times people’s reaction to her mental state was, “How could you be depressed if you’re always smiling and making people laugh?”
There was something about feeling like you’re at the bottom and not wanting anyone else to have to be there. If she felt this way and couldn’t fix it, then she would at least be the light in someone else’s day. She considered a conversation a success if she could make someone smile or feel good about themself. A total victory if she could get a few chuckles out of them.
But there was very little funny about this situation. Fortunately for her, jokes were a coping mechanism that she relied on to get through dealing with people. She used to be an extrovert but there’s something about making everyone around you feel better that’s just exhausting at the end of the day and makes you want to shut people out.
Let the coping commence.
“Yup. Fifty-two. In the span of a couple hours. He was literally just sitting there and hitting redial until he got my voicemail fifty-two times. What do you think therecord is for missed calls in an hour? I wonder if I should reach out to Guinness. It will be one positive thing to come out of this.”
“Would it though?” Marley enjoyed giving the sarcasm right back. “What did he say when you finally called him back?
“Well, no one was dead or dying. And even if they were, fifty-two is still ridiculous. He said he was worried when I wasn’t answering because he wanted to talk to me about our dinner tonight. Apparently it was dead at work for him so he had all the time in the world to bother me.”
“He called you fifty-two times to ask about dinner.”
“Apparently.”
“Why do you think he did that?”
Was it really so hard for therapists to give their opinions instead of dragging it out of you?
“Well, I guess he was just worried about me because I stayed late for work and didn’t tell him I had to.”
“Hailey. That’s not worrying. That’s controlling and obsessive.”
“Well, what can I do about it? That’s just the way he is.”
“Is that the kind of relationship that will make you happy though?”
