An Unexpected Visitor

The pillow felt heavy against my cheek as my body sunk into the feather-down mattress. I wrapped a clammy hand around my comforter, pulling it over my head. The familiar wave washed over me.

Not again.

I slammed my eyes shut and my breath quickened. I could feel the room begin to spin. Nausea built in my stomach and I braced myself as I pulled the covers off. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead and stung my eyes. The dark blue curtains of my bedroom melted and swam. Walls spun dizzying my vision.

I can't take these episodes anymore; what did I do to deserve this?!

I screamed in my mind until the room slowed down to a crawl and, finally, came to a halt. Unclenching my fingers from the now soaked sheets, I let out a breath of sweet relief. Slowly, I pulled myself to a sitting position. My head pounded and my stomach clenched; sweat pooled from my forehead and chest.

"Bad idea."

I stumbled to the bathroom and retched.

I pressed my forehead against the cool porcelain and spit the remaining contents into the toilet.

"Make it stop!"

I sobbed until I could finally feel that my head was back to normal. My body ached from the extreme tension brought about by the "episode" and I struggled to stand. Brushing my teeth, I glanced in the mirror. My hair was a brown matted mass held together by a strained hair tie on top of my head. The green of my eyes mimicked a light blue; brightened by the redness that had become a permanent staple on my face. My skin was pale and blotchy and I was skinnier than I had been 6 months ago. I spit into the sink and rinsed my mouth ignoring the person in the mirror I didn't recognize.

I hadn't always been this way. Six months ago I was a healthy 25-year-old with her whole life ahead of her. I had just finished my Master's in Anthropology and planned on traveling to do my first solo field study in South America. My plans had been cut short when I had experienced what my Doctor came to call "episodes." Thinking back to that late afternoon where my life had been turned upside down, I had thought it was just a fluke. A reaction to my upcoming journey and added stress. Then it happened again; and again. Soon, the "episodes" consumed my daily life. The Doctors called it vertigo with no underlying cause-no tumors, no cysts, no reason-just chalked it up to an "inner ear thing"; whatever that meant.

I made my way back to my bed and sat down. My body was returning to normal but never felt quite right. I never felt quite right. I weakly tidied up and grabbed clean clothes.

Hopefully, a hot shower will be my cure-all.

I spent my mornings for the past 180 days with this impossible thought. The little hope I clung to. Unfortunately, I knew another dizzying moment awaited me tomorrow.

The night came and I had made it through another day. Work consisted of a desk job for a company I didn't care for. I made my way through a light meal and curled up in bed to read myself to sleep.

"Who!"

My book fell to the floor with a loud thud as I jolted forward.

"What the hell was that?"

My heart raised as I scanned the room for the keeper of the sound. My eyes stopped on my dark blue bedroom curtains; they fluttered slightly.

I threw off my covers and pulled back the curtains to reveal an open window. Quickly, I grabbed the handle, pulled the window shut, and locked it. For a brief second, as my fractured startled gaze stared back at me, I swore I saw a strange black pair of wide eyes against a white face peer through mine from the darkness outside.

I dreamt of owls. I soared with them above the clouds into the starry heavens and swooped down to catch unsuspecting prey. I felt free. When I awoke, an ache awakened in me that had not been there and for the first morning in a long while, an "episode" never came.

I made it through my workday "episode-free" and a part of me began to lighten.

Maybe it's over.

I allowed myself to feel the smallest amount of hope until I sat in bed that night.

Oh no.

I felt it before it began. The familiar wave swept through my head like someone sent water gushing into my skull. My bedroom walls spun and melted. My fists wrapped in my blanket as I used them to steady my body as my mind swam. Then I heard it.

"Who!"

My eyes snapped open and the world stopped spinning.

"What is happening?"

I looked around; confused. The spinning ceased as if it had never started. I felt a breeze hit my clammy face and I shivered. Looking up, my curtains were open this time and the windowpane knocked against the side of the house. I froze. A white-faced barn owl sat on my windowsill with its gaze fixed on me; unmoving.

"Who!"

The sudden sound made me jump from my bed and stumble backward. The owl's gaze never left me. Its head turned unnaturally as I pressed my back against my bedroom door and fumbled for the handle.

"Who!"

This time I screamed. Not because of the owl, but because of a loud pop from inside my skull that was now causing my head to pound. I couldn't see, I couldn't think. All I could feel was excruciating pain. My knees stung as they came in contact with my bedroom floor and I pressed my hands around my head for what seemed like an eternity.

Then it was over.

No pain, no spinning. Cascading moments of lightness and peace filled my entire being and I sighed in awe.

I didn't notice that I was floating away from a familiar silhouette lying on a familiar floor that was important to me once, but I couldn't remember why. My brown and white wings spread out and I soared through an open window with dark blue curtains. I soared to the starry heavens and finally felt irrevocably and completely free.