Second guesses

My mind twisted with pain and anger, it turned with regret, and second guesses, and finally it sputtered from the exhaustion of not being good enough. I hated this, the pain was too much. Sometimes it came from stress, sometimes certain triggers, and other times it was everyday life. Sometimes the only thought was to not only not go on like this, but not go on at all. There was too much going on, people chatted loudly from one corner, and laughed obnoxiously from another.

But it was the things that were the loudest. Laundry screamed to be folded, dirty dishes yelled to be washed, and put away. The floor needed to be vacuumed, and a rogue barbie on the coffee table stared me down. Her extra outfits mocking me. The phone rang but I was too worried, too annoyed to answer. It wasn’t like it was anything too important anyway. No one cared enough.

My head hurt from the spinning, my stomach was in knots. I hate this, but my mind switched back to the crooked picture on the wall, the thick white dust across the lamp. I have things to do, I need to make dinner, do schoolwork, my show was coming on in an hour. I needed to get to sleep early for work. My daughter needs help with her homework. Phrases of “You need to get better at this, or what’s going on with you?” “This is your fault.” Swirled around my consciousness.

But, the laughing, and the talking, tick, tick, tick straight to my brain like an annoying clock. The dishes need to be washed, the laundry needs to be put away, if I hurried it might only take a few minutes. But I was tired, I was overwhelmed, I had other things to do, I’m scared, why am I scared? I need quiet, I need to be alone.

My brain screamed in protest, “You shouldn’t be alone”, I screamed back “But I want to be alone… now leave me be.” “Never” it screeched. “You have friends, and you have family, people who care, who miss seeing you.” I don’t think I could do this thing called life anymore.

But, do I really? My heart starts pounding erratically, I have goosebumps, and the sensation of cold sweat down my body, and steel butterflies. Please go away, I thought. Please. I wanted to accept my friends invitation but I was nervous, worn down, not up to entertain, or to be myself, what if I wasn’t funny enough? or interesting either. What if I make the wrong choice again? I didn’t want to hear what’s wrong? or your zoning out again. I always worried about what others thought, But I longed to see them, to have fun, to be normal.

it was a nice, crisp, fall evening so I put on my jacket and, I decided to go for a walk to try to clear my head. Fields and thickets of trees lined the streets; leaves are bright, bloody-red, yellow like the sun and orange, the mixture of the two, a solar eclipse, bold, magical. The forests were on fire. The air was scented with wet bark, soil, and pine.

It was quiet and peaceful, and it helped calm my soul. I saw a barn in the distance and decided to head towards it. Barns meant animals, and animals were one thing I could rely on for a smile, a laugh, some sort of comfort.

The barn was painted maroon with a cream trim, and it towered over the interstellar blue sky. In the front there was a worn path and off to the side a short, metal fence that formed a rectangle. There were troughs inside but other wise empty. The whole space was quiet and still. Possibly a sign that there weren’t any animals on site. Once I reached the front I decided to try the door, if it was open it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek.

But then I had second thoughts, what if someone caught me? They might call the police, or worse have a gun. What if the door shut and I was locked inside the barn all night, for days even, frozen, alone, hungry. I should be at home doing laundry my thoughts intruded. Or doing school work or sleeping. But my curiosity won over, after all animals were involved.

The door opened with a creak and the smell of hay, wood, and animals took over. With only two small windows, It was a few shades darker than outside.

“Hello?” I squeaked out like a mouse, as if I expected a horse to answer back.

I approached the stalls, one side held a few large pink pigs that appeared to be sleeping. The other had horses, five to be exact. Four of the horses are deep golden brown, with white stars or stripes down their heads. The fifth horse, was grey, and black with white splattered across it's body like a drunk in possession of a paintbrush. He was absolutely stunning. The sign on the door below him read ‘Ziva.’ In neat sky blue script.

“Hi, Ziva.” I called out softly, reaching out slowly to pet his head. He whinnied quietly, letting me caress his head and down his snout. His large brown eyes, under long eyelashes studied me carefully, as if searching for my intentions. I wanted to be in there with Ziva, close to him but, I didn’t dare mess with his door in case he tried to escape. I spotted a haybale close by and pulled a handful free, offering it flat handed to Ziva.

“Are you lonely, like me?”

He nickered, flicking his tail up and down. Carefully taking the food from my palm with fuzzy lips. The other horses seemed to be busy and uninterested in me being in here. The pigs still slept, everything was quiet except for a gentle flutter of wings. I couldn’t see anything, I’m not even sure how a bird would have got in, but the flutter grew louder.

That’s when I noticed there was something at the top corner of the barn, perched on a wood beam that went horizontally across the loft. A bird, the culprit of the fluttering sound. I looked harder, it stood tall and wide, its feet are big with pointy talons. It’s an owl. Getting closer, there were big, soul searching, round, black eyes staring intensely back at me. I was shocked into staying still and watching this rare sight or turning slowly, and hiding from its view.

I really should get back home, things waited for me, chores, the laundry, the dishes, carpet, furry with black dog hair needed to be vacuumed, school… one, two, three, four, five. The list grew. At least five things needed to be done right now. My heart pounded quicker, I counted them on my hand so I wouldn’t forget but, I screamed in my head trying to shake my thoughts free. I don’t care about my to do list. Why.can’t.I. just.be.normal? I stared too long at my tan fuzzy boots, now covered in dirt. One, two, three, four, five.

“Goodbye Ziva.” I whispered, not wanting to take my eyes off of him but backing a way anyway. The horse moved around, trying to rotate in the stall. There was a loud clunk as its hoof kicked the door, its neck swung from side to side. It let out a loud set of whinnies.

I was almost to the exit when I heard the flutter of the large wings as the owl descended from up high it landed on a tack shelf that set at eye level. The bird watched me intently, with such great interest I began to feel self- conscious and a little frightened.

A barn owl I thought, its chest full of white feathers shaped like a heart splattered with brown splashes, its face also white. I’ve never been this close to such a wise, majestic creature. The longer I looked at it, the more I felt compelled to stare into those big, black eyes. They pinned me there, keeping my attention, as soon as I began to feel a bit uneasy towards the creature, and I started to worry again about my ever long and growing to do list and my anxiety took over once again.

I couldn’t breathe, I am stiff and stuck with fear. I want to crush the walls closing in around me, I am claustrophobic, I start to lose control but the walls are invisible. My heart is pounding in my ears, I hear the swish, swish of blood. I feel scared, I’m stuck in thick air, like water. The more I struggle, the worse it gets, I’m like a fish out of water, flailing hopelessly. One, two, three, fo—and the Owl is on my arm watching me curiously, its face crinkled into worry. Its feet are cold, and scaly. It flutters its wings softly,

“Whooo”, It hollers. “Whooo.”

I stare into its eyes as if by command. There are flashes of light, and warmth through my body, I picture my daughter smiling a big, cheesy grin and her deep blue eyes sparkling and beautiful. I hear her silly jokes, her cute laughter, I feel my husbands embrace, smell his musky, spicy cologne. He kisses the top of my head. He says something, and I laugh so hard I cry. I cuddle into his warm chest, safe and comfortable. He takes my hand in his, its bigger, rougher and strong, his thumb caresses mine. His blue eyes lock onto mine as he listens to me talk, he smiles all perfect teeth and soft red lips.

Our daughter shrieks with laughter as jumps up from behind the couch as a vampire, she tickles my feet and calls me silly when I laugh and flail helplessly on the couch.

“We have to have dessert before bed, dear.” My daughter says matter of factly in her thick pretend British accent.

“Oh, do you think so love?” I ask in my own fake accent.

“Why yes, that’s a lovely idea.” My husband calls out.

“How ‘bout some tea and crumpets?” we all say in unison, giggling. As we dunk our Oreo’s in cups of milk. My heart is full, these are my people, my home. I love them more than anything.

The Owl is back in front of me again, looking at me expectantly. But now it hits me, my life is full with them, they are my everything. Through the stress, though the mess, there’s a lot of things to be happy about, grateful for even though life is hard, I need to figure out my stress and anxiety. But I can learn to do this with them. For them. For me.

It could feel something like a smile coming from the owl, the creature was wise, strong ,and fearless, it knew what it was doing. It showed me a glimpse into my life that I needed to see while being so desperate I might do something irreversible. The owl was my saint, my guardian angel, my precious gift, I owed him my life.

I glanced to the horses, their heads were all up, all watching me as if they were cheering me on. They were still. The barn was deafeningly quiet. I waved to them not wanting to break the silence just yet. I walked down the street toward home, my brain finally quiet, finally calm. I felt light, I felt happy. I felt love.