I've Changed

16. leave

~~~~

I am not in the mood.

I'm rushing to the athletic department already eager to finish my shift today.

The longer I stay near this facility, the more my mind spirals into a never-ending pit of self pity and dark thoughts and memories and—

I'm not in the right headspace and it keeps getting worse at every passing minute.

I'm desperate. Broken.

Stay professional I keep reminding myself. For the sake of my job. For everything. I can't risk it all.

I thought I was capable of suppressing the past and believing that I've moved on—no!

Today I was determined to occupy my brain with work and assignments so that I could distract myself from an impending doom. The second I received an email from the athletic department, concerning me to cover for another intern, something in me happened. Something not good.

I made a mistake. Now, I have to suffer the consequences.

On my way, I walk past several interns and staff. They're hustling and busy because it has come to my attention that we're short staffed. The main reason as to why they contacted me, and why I'm here again this week in this shit hole.

I tried everything in my power to avoid this place. Especially this place. And especially today. Today!

I'm convinced the universe doesn't want me to be at peace.

I walk into our locker room letting my frustration become known. "Not right now, Ashley." Her mouth opens and closes after my demand. Immediately, I stop in my tracks.

"Sorry," I squeeze my eyes shut, regretting what I said.

"Long day?" She carefully asks.

"It's going to be a short one," I shrug off my jacket and throw it into my locker. My bag slips down my shoulder next. It drops down onto the floor with a thud.

"Ellie," I sense her approach and am at the brink of telling her not to. "Nuh uh, don't do that. You think I wouldn't realize how you've been acting this whole week?"

The inside of a metal box has never seemed so interesting to me. Nothing is inside my locker except for an extra sweater and emergency essentials like deodorant on the top shelf.

My hands clam into fists. Tension rolls from my feet to my head which triggers a flashing of broken memories—

"Ellie," She says softer. I don't get too mad at her this time but I am instead grateful that she got me out of a mental breakdown.

"I'm sorry Ashley. Today is a day that I'd rather forget and I'm struggling to cope with the idea that I can't." I dont have the guts to look at her, or do anything at this point.

"No need to apologize," her voice takes the form of understanding. "I'm very aware of how you feel right now. We all have days like these. It's what makes us human."

"Sometimes we have to cope with that struggle and accept the fact that we can't forget it." She puts her self-guide books to use. "Someone once told me, perhaps we can change the meaning of the day by replacing it with a more treasurable memory."

How am I supposed to think of this day as anything else as I do now? Awful. Traumatic. Painful. Scarring.

That although I appreciate the advice, I don't think I have the mental capacity to care anymore.

She hums, "I think we got it from here. Why don't you go home?"

The offer causes me to react. I'm quick to refuse. "I can't let you do that. There are too many therapies to handle alone. Besides, it keeps me busy. I need to stay busy."