From The Diary Of Nina Hailey #1

• Notes

  From a series of diary entries by Nina called Earth To Nina.

  RJ

Sometimes my mind gets stuck.

As soon as you ask me for something, it feels like I’ve filled up two canteen-style ketchup bottles with glue and I’ve stuck them in both ears and I’m squeezing it around my brain.

Some of it comes pouring right back out, it drips from my earlobes and down my shirt. The rest rushes right in. Making gaps where there were no gaps, filling every new crevice and crease.

I loosen my fists and let the air rush back into the bottles with a smacking sucking sound. For a moment, as the glue in my brain settles, it’s almost…nice. Like there’s no chance of ever finding a clear train of thought anyway so the option may as well be taken away from me.

And then I clench my fists again and the last of the glue rushes in, mixing intrusion with panic. Paralysis with speed. It overflows out of my nose and eyes and I know I’ll never see or breathe properly again.

And you’re just standing there like a dumb bear saying, “Hello? Hello? Earth to Nina.”

Maybe I’ll just nod this time.

Maybe I’ll play a high-risk game and reply with, “Yes, of course.”

But the truth is I didn’t hear you. The people in my head that run my ears are doing their jobs just fine. And I’m pretty sure my brain at the other end of the line works ok, it’s the little guys with blue overalls that run the line in between the ear canal and the central cortex that didn’t turn up to work today. Or maybe they did and they’re just horrible people. It often feels less like there’s a gap between my glue-covered ears and brain and more like a group of mean, doubting, belittling figures.

They don’t transmit the words, they just roll their eyes at me.

And you’ll say, “What do you mean Yes? Are you even listening to me? I asked you if you-“

Glue.

Men in blue overalls.

Paralysis.

Panic.