Oddbody by Rose Keating Reading Journal

I picked up the book at a bookshop because I was in the mood for something creepy. A short, unsetteling ghost story, maybe something a little dystopian. I read the first few pages, I loved them, and bought it without even realizing it was a collection of short stories. And honestly I think I love that I went into it knowing absolutely nothing.

At first, I thought the ghosts were just ghosts. But the more I read, the more I started seeing them as representations of depression, suicidal thoughts, shame, and that horrible little voice in your head that seems to know exctly what to say to hurt you.

What struck me was how casually the ghost insulted her. He would make comments about her body, tell her she was disgusting, point out all these things that were supposedly wrong with her. And she didn't even seem angry. She just said she knew.

I kept thinking about that. How awful is it that someone can become so used to hearing so cruel things about themselves that they don't even feel the need to argue anymore?

I also thought about people who experience voices or hallucinations, and how those experiences can sometimes involve hearing things that are frightening, insulting or deeply personal. Obiously, I don't think the ghosts have to represent one specific mental health experience, but I found that connection interesting.

And the ghost wasn't always horrible. Sometimes he helped her. He comforted her, made her tea, told her to cover the mirrors so she wouldn't have to look at herself. There's something almost tender about that, until you remember that he's also the one making her feel so terrible about herself.

Can something that hurts you also become the thing you turn to for comfort?

I think my favourite part was when she asked him not to leave.

Because I didn't read that as her wanting to be miserable. I read it as her being so accustomed to living with that misery that she couldn't imagine what life without it would look like. Sometimes something becomes so familiar that even the possibility of getting better feels frightening. Not because you don't want to be happy, but because you genuinely don't know what being happy would look like anymore.

And then there's Ben, who suggests she get an exorcism. To him, the solution is obvious. Get rid of the ghost. Get help. But she brushes it off. It's not that bad. I found that painfully realistic. Sometimes you don't recognize how much something is affecting you because you've learned to live around it. And sometimes you don't want to lose the familiarity of it, even when you know it's damaging you.

Another part that really stayed with me was the girl at work. At first, I thought she was crying because the customer was being horrible to her. But then we learn about her ghost, and suddenly I started interpreting the scene differently. What if the ghost singing was a way of showing how loud and overwhelming someone's thoughts can become? So loud they can't concentrate, can't keep working, can't pretend everythins is fine.

And then she loses her job. That made me sad, but it also made me angry, because it felt so real. Some people can hide what they're going through. They can show up, smile, answer calls, do their jobs, and nobody would ever know how much they're struggling. Other people can't always do that. Their ghosts are louder, or they reach a point where they simply can't keep pretending. I thought about when I worked as a waitress and had panic attacks at work. There were moments when I couldn't hide what was happening to me, no matter how much I wanted to. I couldn't control my own ghost, I guess.

I also found the description of her call center job interesting. The repetition almost becomes medative. It's boring, but there's comfort in knowing exactly what comes next. And during those moments, the ghost seems to quiet down. I liked that detail because sometimes keeping yourself occupied with something repetitive can make your mind feel less overwhelming.

And then there's her relationship with Ben. She wanted to put on her wool sweater and be loved. I don't know why, but that detail made me so sad. She wanted affection. Something gentle, something genuine. But the ghost interferes, and suddenly she's presenting herself differently, saying things she hadn't intended to say, and the evening becomes something else entirely.

I don't think there's anything wrong with her enjoying sex. But I wondered whether, for her, it was also a way of feeling wanted, even temporarily. Whether being held by someone, even when the encounter wasn't what she hoped for, was better than not being held at all. And that's another thing I liked about this story. It dosen't give us a perfect character who always makes healthy decisions. She wants love, she wants comfort, she wants to feel good about herself, and sometimes the ways she tries to get those things seem to hurt her instead.

I went into this expecting a ghost story, and somehow ended up thinking about depression, body image, loneliness, mental illness in the workspace, and how complicated our relationships with ourselves can become.

It's such a short story, but there's so much to unpack. And what I love most is that the ghost isn't simply a monster she needs to defeat. He's familiar. He's sometimes funny, sometimes helpful, sometimes cruel. He's part of her life. I think that's what makes him so unsettling.

Maybe the scariest thing about the ghost isn't that he won't leave. It's that she dosen't really want him to.