Chapter one
Ellie
“That’sugly.”
A tiny goblin scowls at my notebook from across the table.
“You’re ugly,” I mumble under my breath before closing the notebook and shoving it into my bag.
The goblin sticks his tongue out at me before shoving a handful of Cheerios into his pie hole, his eyes penetrating into my soul. I take a long, slow sip of my coffee and stare back at him, intimidation factor on full blast as I squint and snarl behind my cup.
Another goblin comes flying past with no pants on.
“Boys! We have to go!” my sister yells from a different room.
A Cheerio hits me in the face as Goblin One sticks his tongue out at me and jumps out of his chair. I grit my teeth at my nephew, that I swear I love, and proceed to focus my attention on my phone.
I reread the email four times before slamming my phone down on the counter, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room.
“El, you ready?” I hear my sister wrangling her children near the front door.
I zip-up my bag, swing myself out of my chair and practically hear bubble wrap pop. The tin man has taken my body and replaced it with his rusty, old shell.
I stretch and twist until everything stops cracking—standing as slow as humanly possible in the process. I replay the last few week’s events to find the culprit of the new aches and questionable noises. I haven’t ran in a while, no new workouts or quick movements, nothing that could result in my bones screaming like they are.
It could just be a result of decreased activity—too many nights in bed, scrolling my phone. Or I just slept wrong. Or the reality that this past year has been so stressful, my body has no idea what's going on anymore. I guess it's decided to respond like an old man after a bad visit to the chiropractor.
The past year's events start to work their way across my mind, followed by a numbing fog as it starts to wander down awhat if, why mespiral. I give each limb of my body a shake, jostling the thoughts until their gone.
No time forthattoday.
I mosey through the kitchen and out the front door, climbing into my sister’s SUV—the goblins seated directly behind me.
Wonderful.
Thisshouldbe an exciting day, starting a new job and working with your sister—who is also your best friend—is usually something people look forward to. Yet, I feel like crawling under my bed and letting the effects of life’s circumstances overtake me would be more fun.
It doesn’t help that I can’t stop thinking about my very cramped loft apartment in the attic of my sister’s house—with unpacked moving boxes blocking the window, piles of letters and sticky notes covering my bed, and about ten different letters denying my refund for a multitude of wedding-related deposits.
Yep, just let me stay under my bed, please.
It’s worth adding that today is the first day of mythirdnew job this year.
I amnotproud of this. Not at all.
It turns out that having a Ph.D. in Psychology doesn’t actually make you more desirable in the job market. Especially when you have minimal life experience, and a very small client pool. I wish I could say it’s hard to pinpoint why I’m not more sought after to help people with life’s problems, but I would bet my inability to tackle my own issues could be one of the reasons. Leaving my clinic in New York wasn’t easy, but I was confident I would find work.
Unfortunately, when applying for jobs in my field, a psychiatric evaluation is bound to happen. And the recent uptick in my intrusive thoughts were too much to hide from Larry, the evaluator.
Normally, I love my career choice.
I love working through problems with people, especially when I can relate on a personal level. But for the past four hundred and seventy-two days, I have been on a downward spiral, relating more than I probably should to clients, causing them to question if I’m really capable of helping them when I can’t seem to help myself. And I can’t blame them for that.
It turns out, being left at the altar really does something to one’s mental health.
Shocker.
“How are you feeling? I am so excited!” Emma is overly giddy as she backs out of her driveway. She is a vibrant soul and, aside from my inability to stay at my job, she is one of the main reasons I left New York and came back to Oklahoma.
