The Mistake

The vast, blue sky is rimmed with white, wispy, cotton-candy clouds which surround at a safe distance the ball of raging, yellow fire that is already shooting its incendiary rays towards me, burning my skin as if I am trapped under a magnifying glass.

It is 7 a.m. in the tropical island of Barbados and already the day feels too hot; not quite dry nor too bright, but the foreshadowing of it turning into a full scorcher is blatant.

On this fine morning, I’ve impulsively decided to join my mother on a morning walk that I am already starting to regret as I contemplate whether I can really make it as far as a kilometre up the street in this shining heat and state of jittery unrest.

You see, I’m sensitive to the sun, experiencing what I have termed ‘sun-headaches’ if I’m directly in its heat for too long, and while that is usually a mid-day issue, as I stand on the familiar, white, uneven road only a few metres away from my home, I feel minutes away from a pounding headache.

My brain is loudly urging me to return to the quietude and self-enjoyment of a rarely empty house, and if I had known in that moment how my day would have unfolded, I would have listened to its persuasive arguments and slunk back inside;

But-

And it’s a big but, I can already feel the earlier impulsive thing I did that morning begin to course through my veins, demanding I get a head start on exhausting what might be a very serious influx of energy for me, - think sugar high, but deeper and longer lasting- and so in a bid to diffuse this energy, I argue for the good feeling of stretching my legs, drinking in the blooming splendour of nature and the quality fresh air that can only be found in the countryside.

Taking a deep, lung inflating breath, I consciously stop gritting my teeth, relaxing the muscles that have suddenly become tense, allowing some of the panic I’m pretending not to notice to escape as I exhale through my nose.

In that moment, desperate to distract myself and avoid what I can feel brewing within me, I make the final decision to get out of my increasingly busy head, and exercise my body a bit before the thing beginning to unfurl within me truly hits down as intensely as I’m starting to fear it will.

Walking might just save me from myself … I hope… I pray.

Normally my mother and I go for morning walks, leaving the house as early as 5:30 am.

It is usually still dark at that time with the moon and stars visible in the sky, but as we dutifully drag our bodies on a thirty minute trek down three sloping hills to the more traffic active main road, the heavens awaken with fiery splendour, casting a plethora of orange and pink hues across the sky, while by the time we are ready to return home, the sun would have risen to take its throne, but today is different.

Today, the walk will be for a shorter distance, and is only happening because my mother decided to save my brother the gas expenses of coming over those three hills to reach her.

She is going to spend the day with him along with his fraternal twin toddlers and I’m all for it, as it means a blessedly quiet and hopefully fun filled, productive day for me sans distractions.

It is my belief that no matter how much you like or even love the person(s) you live with, a day without them- a day just to yourself-, getting up to your own devices, at your own pace is nothing short of precious, but for my introverted soul, it is very much a miracle from God!

This is particularly true of the codependent dynamic I share with my mother, ever since my brother moved out and my Dad abruptly passed away, and as such, we are learning how to live together peacefully, now that those buffers between our contrasting personalities are no longer there.

It has been such an on-going adjustment that has forced us to learn how to work around diverging daily tasks, navigating role assignments and respecting each other’s personal boundaries.

An example of this is that I tend to be more on the brooding side in the mornings, needing a few hours of no contact before I’m able to be sociable; while my mother, on the other hand, still enjoys verbally expressing all her thoughts to me at any time of the day, regardless of the level of my social metre.

This habit both irritates and aggravates me, particularly as I work from home as a free-lance writer, while pursuing becoming a self-published author, and I lose my train of thought if I'm pulled out of my creative zone due to random interruptions.

This makes days like today all the sweeter.

Recently, I have taken on a new writing project and am already excited to use this day to go through the research and requirements needed, so that when I’m ready, I can place the right pieces of information together as one would a jigsaw puzzle.

Thinking of the new project, I feel a soft lurch of panic lance across my chest, a dull throbbing rising in my head, and sudden stickiness to my breathing.

These feelings bloom and spread throughout me as I unwittingly slip, becoming caught up in the same insecurities and anxieties around my skills and ability to do a good job that I’m constantly trying my best to fight down.

They nevertheless crop up, circling like sharks scenting a hint of blood, but as I always do; I push them down into the ether of my subconscious where I can better ignore them and refocus on what I need to do; which right now is as simple as going for a walk.

Nothing else.

I can do this!

I chant in my mind repeatedly, making it into a new mantra, determined to not let my guard down again.

The fact of the matter is that I need this project and I’m so grateful for the way it fell into my lap.

I was beyond elated when the Director of this NGO contacted me personally to ask if I would be interested in turning these raw transcripts into articles depicting feminine strength, truth and resilience, but then like a toxic friend, my fears and insecurities about my writing skills erased the joy, replacing it with loads of anxiety.

The stress I’ve placed on myself to do a great job is familiar, if very triggering, but nonetheless I need the money and I need the validation of successfully completing this important assignment almost in equal measures.

The pressure is so on.

Taking a deep breath of naturally clean air, and closing my eyes before letting it whoosh out of me, I feel my stomach deflate as I do, but it’s the sun that truly helps me to come back to the present the way the unrelenting rays sting my skin, reminding me of why I’m just standing out here in the first place.

I am waiting for my mother to rejoin me because she had to double check on something inside of the house, before we embark on this casual walk down the road.

Reopening my eyes, my gaze lands on the lush green pasture right next to me, brain already plotting the course of my day, enjoying how expansive it feels now that it will just be me sequestered at home.

My mother re-joins me finally and we begin our trek up the road, but before we’ve even reached the crossroads, barely four houses and another smaller pasture from my house, I notice the change and know I have made a colossal mistake.

I have gone from being slightly- even negligibly- buzzed to feeling as if my soul is about to violently launch itself right into the ionosphere, and the shock of it is fueling an intensifying, full-body, vibrating sensation.

The suddenness of this fierce reaction makes me certain my whole body must be shaking on the outside just as much as it is internally shuddering and I take a quick glance at my Mother for possible confirmation.

If my mother notices, she remains mute.

She is instead, studiously walking down the road, caught up in the retelling of a recent family oriented story that may or may not have annoyed her, while I’m desperately trying to will my particles to contain themselves in their respective places within my body.

“Is this how the Flash feels?” I wonder, because right now everything around me has slowed to a ridiculous sloth pace, and time feels physically sluggish.

“Oh my God, what have I done?!” I whisper fearfully in my mind.

In contrast to my environment, I feel freaking supersonic and the panic isn’t helping!

I can hear and feel each of the ‘thud, thud, thuds’ of my manic heart beats, I can localise the exact areas where I’m beginning to perspire, because they are cold against the burning heat of my sun scorched skin and I can hear the light breeze as we walk.

I’m not into it.

I can feel my thoughts as they bounce around in my head like tangible things, hear my blood gushing through my popping veins, which have raised just that much closer to the surface of my warm skin and actually see the colours that make up the air around me.

For a moment I am transfixed as bright dots appear around me, and if I squint just a bit, I can see a prism vortex just pulsing right there in the air- several of them, as if someone launched multiple portals at once just for the hell of it.

Blinking, either rapidly or slowly does nothing to change the spiralling kaleidoscopic atoms chaotically playing around me and I feel both faint and hyper simultaneously.

The faintness brings with it a disturbing queasiness, but with my veins singing, I also feel supercharged, like I could run up and down these three hills and not even feel it.

I feel so energised…too energised and the pressure of it is all too much!

For the first time in my life, I’m seriously wondering if I won’t spontaneously combust from the exponentially growing buzz brewing within me, stretching my skin too tight, like an over inflated balloon.

My hope that I can survive this walk deflates with every step I take… and fuck, I really can’t do drugs, or in this case, strong coffee as the caffeine floods my system with insane force.

My brain is again loudly screaming for me to abandon this walk. I ignored it, too caught up in the spectacular changes to my body, but maybe I should have been paying some more attention to what was happening in my mind …

Next to me, my mother walks on, still chatting easily to me as if I am not about to launch myself right into the sky from my panic over how my body is reacting to the coffee ,and the sheer hyper-activeness that is simultaneously overwhelming my body and mind.

We have made it several kilometres from my house, passing my neighbours and making it to the intersection we call ‘The Corner’. There is no turning back now.

I can do this!

I remind myself, putting one foot in front of the other, determined to exercise both the effects of the coffee and my awakening panic over doing a good job on this project.

Appraising my jittery mental and physical state, I take in the long, winding road still ahead of me, sandwiched on the left with houses, but full of half-ling sugar cane stalks to the right, and grimace when my panic asks, “How the fuck am I gonna survive this?!”

In hindsight, my first mistake was hella obvious earlier that morning.

As a resolute tea drinker, I had no business giving into my curiosity and not only making that mug of coffee, but actually drinking all of it; but to be fair, how was I really supposed to know that my reaction to it would be so … dynamic or that the consequences could be so revealing?

Earlier as I had sipped on my first cup of milk coffee and not actually hating it, I watched my mother puttering around the house, getting ready to spend the day with my brother, when shockingly, I made a snap decision that would change the course of my day and possibly the entire month.

Usually, my brother will come to the house to pick her up, but sometimes she will decide to leave home earlier to meet him on the road, and today is one of those days.

As she is reminding me to close the windows if it rains, I feel compelled to suggest I accompany her on this short walk down the road to get some fresh air, rather than indulging my usual morning ritual of enjoying my fave shows before settling into work.

My mother was already dressed, but puttering around the house when I raced to my room to quickly get changed, all the while aware that my body was in the preliminary stages of some kind of transformation, but not giving it the kind of thought I’d later realise it deserved.

I was too busy putting on my worn-out, workout clothes: a pink t-shirt, with four Angry Birds characters and the words ‘Flying Nerdy’ emblazoned on the front and my old mid-thigh, black tights, getting ready to head out.

I then walked back into the dining room to put on my casual, blue Reef slippers before picking up the house keys from the crystal bowl in the centre of the table, to lock up after we both stepped through the door onto the patio.

Pocketing the keys for safe-keeping, I turn around to find my mother training a watchful eye on the still blue sky, looking for any signs of more rain, as there was a downpour earlier, but what really catches me is how normal she seemed.

She also had a big cup of coffee, but right now, I can’t detect even a modicum of the unprecedented buzz that I am experiencing more fully since that burst of activity in getting ready.

I guess greater exposure means less intensity, as she always seems fine after her caffeine indulgences, but right now my surroundings are suddenly in sharp, high definition and I’m quickly becoming aware that the swelling of energy within me is not deflating like I think it should.

If anything, I’m becoming more uncomfortably aware of its progressing growth by the second.

As I follow my mother to the main road, I understand how hard it must have been for Superman when his powers really kicked in for that first time, because maaannn is this insane and I am not enjoying this!

I’m desperately hoping that a leisurely paced walk will help calm me down, as walking is my go-to when I need to center myself and feel more grounded.

Once again, I turn towards my mother looking for any sign that she’s feeling what I am, but she honestly looks no different to how she usually does,- avid caffeine drinker that she is.

She is dressed a tad more presentably than I am in an army-green shirt and dark jeans, with her hair braided in long plaits and pulled up into a bun that rests comfortably on-top of her head, the look complete with her favourite black handbag.

 My hair is roughly brushed and the kinky mass is currently being hidden by a blue, cotton scarf.

All in all, my mother looks pretty relaxed as we begin this journey that depending on how fast my brother drives, could be as short as 5 minutes or as long as 30, giving off no signs that she too could be battling her own caffeine induced breakdown.

I wonder if I look just as calm as her, even as I feel the caffeine buzz kicking in and bleeding into my bloodstream, exploding first with utter clarity as if someone has pulled a filtered veil from in front of my eyes, followed immediately by a level of wakefulness I’ve never experienced before.

I don’t think I like being energized this much.

Blinking as I try to quietly regulate my breathing, I can’t help but wonder how I’m even coming across as normal when all I’m trying to do is slow the speed of my words ,and actively listen to the largely one-sided conversation we are having, while my feet automatically moved one foot in front of the other continuously.

I feel as if I am experiencing a firsthand account of those people who are wigging out in the movies, when the camera zooms in on them and they are slightly sweaty, while looking super lost and a tad deranged.

Totally zoned right out.

That’s me, if you were to focus a camera on what is going on inside of me at that moment.

This morning, I knew- I knew- that clump of coffee I placed in the mug looked too big, but even as I thought it, I was already dumping it in and adding the boiling water, followed by sugar, and milk to drown out the bitter taste of the coffee.

It had not worked; the coffee had been much stronger than I was hoping for, but I figured it was not significant enough to warrant worry as I went in for another sip, feeling my body come alive.

Oh, how freaking wrong I was!

It was most definitely cause for alarm, but there is nothing I can do now.

I’m experiencing life in the fast lane, acutely aware of how amped my body is and wondering when I will spontaneously combust, while trying to remember how to behave as a normal human- a normal human who is not living at warp speed.

The last time I had coffee, it was a blended, iced concoction that my mother had made as a night snack, what feels like a few days ago.

I carelessly and recklessly had a tall glass full, with chocolate milk and lots of fun froth at the top, enjoying the blended drink, and the small buzz that came with it, as I watched reruns of the hilarious Brooklyn 99 series, but as the night went on, I realized that mine and my Mother’s tolerance for the effects were worlds apart.

I was up haunting the house for a week, while she slept peacefully in the same way Mothers want their babies to sleep through the night.

You would think I’d have learnt my lesson and known to leave the aromatic beans of caffeine alone, but no.

I had awoken today feeling lethargic at best, eyes heavily lidded with my brain refusing to properly come online quickly and thus, told myself that maybe a weak cup of coffee would help me to fully wake up and focus on the work I needed to get started.

I was determined to begin the round of articles I am working on for a project I’m freelancing for, while also completing the chores that come with running a fledgling business, and yes, the smell of the coffee was extra luring, calling to me like those temptress sirens that delighted in shipwrecking beguiled sailors.

Now, I’m walking under the stark blue, country sky, high off my ass and hopefully doing a good job of acting as if my whole heart isn’t trying to drown me in too much blood.

And as my mother calmly walks next to me, it would seem that I am in fact giving a surreally, stellar performance!

I normally love going for early morning walks.

I enjoy the sleepy quiet, the coolness of the outside and the pretty colours that transform the sky as it wakes up, though right now, it is much later than we would usually go.

Did I mention that it’s after seven in the morning and the sun is gaining in brightness and heated intensity, very quickly now?

The sun is illuminating all of the countryside with its lush greens and the tops of the houses we passed, the majority of which are painted in various bright shades of orange. (I genuinely do not know why the colour orange seems to be that popular, but hey…it’s the tropics I guess??)

I love the unique smell of clean air and I am gulping it in, hoping it can help to soothe the raging energy bubbling up within me.

It’s a long winding road that is mostly open to the elements and as we pass my Mom’s benchmark for where she would usually wait for my brother,- the deep corner a little bit before we descend the little hill- ,she looks over and asks if I’m ok to keep going.

“You want to keep going, or wait here?” She asks, adjusting the straps of her black handbag over her shoulder.

She is not referring to my amped up state; rather to the fact that I have on Reef flip-flops because neither of us thought about going down what I had labeled the ‘3 hills’ when we left home, but right now I’m jacked to high hell and all for it.

I need to burn off this buzz.

“Nah, let’s keep going. This may be all the exercise I get today,” I’m shook my voice is so clear. Not a tremble in sight betraying the craziness unfolding inside of me.

The energy needs an outlet and I am most aware of the moment the caffeine hits my bloodstream properly. In that instant I feel both outside and inside of myself, but suddenly the world takes on a clearer, yet brighter filter.

I need this walk.

I need to burn away the abundance of excess caffeine and sugar fuelled energy possessing my being so inexorably.

So we continue; keeping up a lively chatter as we make it over the small first hill and then a few very short minutes later, we are in the middle of the second hill. 

Having just passed one of the old standpipes on the right and the small, tucked away church on the left, we are slowly descending the curviest of the three hills.

This is when it hits me that I really have not truly thought all of this through properly.

The middle hill is a ridiculous curving slope with several blind spots, and to make it better, there had been construction all up and down it lately, but the workmen had only filled in the craters they had made in the road with bitumen, instead of fixing the entire thing, leaving huge potholes and rough, uneven spots all over it.

The road is a bit slippery from God knows what (I’m thinking from the earlier rain) and I am hopped up on coffee in flip-flops that have no grip on the bottom, but I take it all in stride, telling myself this is the warm up for the exercise I will do later today…maybe.

Probably.

We make it all down the hill and are seconds away from walking down the third hill- the hill of death because of its steepness when walking back up - when I see my brother’s silver Ford launch itself over it and whizz past us.

He drives a few metres ahead of me, in order to turn around in a dirt road gap on the right of the main road, before he drives back to where we are.

The walk is over.

We stop, and I nod at my brother behind the wheel. 

My mother gets in and, I wave at the Twin (fraternal girl and boy toddlers) who are strapped into their booster seats in the back, and look collectively as if they had just been startled awake and disoriented-

This…is probably true with the way he launched that vehicle over the hill-

And I watch as they silently observe my mother getting into the vehicle, blinking owlishly, all while not saying a single word, no matter how much I coo at them.

With my mother safely ensconced in the passenger seat, the vehicle revs to make its way back down the hill and as it drives away, my brother yells at me to ‘Put on clothes!” (It’s a running gag between us) to which I smile and flip him off.

As I watch the vehicle speed away down the hill, it is only then that it hits me full on, with devastating caffeinated impact that I have to walk back up those hills alone for the first time in my life ever, all the while pretending that I’m normal and not fully expecting to go supersonic any minute now.

I’m sweating and it feels cold upon my skin, which to my amped brain makes sense because the sun-beams feel really cold right now, … I’m pretty sure they’re supposed to feel hot, right? Scorching even?

Also can a heart emancipate itself from a body by sheer force of will?

It feels as if my heart is trying to thump its way right out of my chest and I just feel wrong. I am out of sorts, feeling too much and too little of everything simultaneously, and it’s all happening at unbelievable speeds.

I am hyper aware of everything as I finally turn in the shade of a lone breadfruit tree on the side of the road and prepare myself to walk back over those hills and hopefully return home in one normal-ish piece.

I take a deep breath, trying to placate my churning mind that this is going to be ok.

“I can do this! I can do this! I got this! Totally got this!” I mutter to myself, trying to motivate myself to face the uphill battle I’m literally about to undertake.

Before I can properly turn, a head suddenly appears over the hill and my already overly excited heart ups the ante most unpleasantly.

I feel even colder than before as sudden fear and dread pour unwelcomed into the bottom of my stomach at the sight.

There is a strange, tall man some yards behind me on the road, a hard expression on his face as he with marked determination, swiftly walks up that steep hill, about to crest it, putting him on the same road with me-the same quiet deserted, literally- no-one-else-is-currently-on-this-road-with-me-, and just like that, alarm bells ring high and pealing into my head, unnecessarily spiking my body with fear based adrenaline.

Fuelled with panicked, caffeinated adrenaline, I turn around and walk more quickly up the road, determined to both out-walk him and also not make it seem as if I am scared or am trying to get away from him.

My mind is already screaming all the terrible things that could happen to me on this once safe road, that now feels super deserted and I can feel my body tense up for a possible fight. 

My mind is formulating ways to attack and defend myself if it comes to it…though I have not a single weapon on my person.

Fuck!

And here’s the thing.

While walking with my mother, it hadn’t bothered me that the road was clear.

No cars, no other pedestrians, no onlookers, just us, rather it had felt familiar, safe and I was more focused on trying to wear out my caffeine high.

 If I’m being honest it had not occurred to me that there could be any danger on this road that I’ve traversed hundreds of times before.

Now however, as this dude- who is walking in my mind entirely too quickly and powerfully for this time of the day, possibly unaware of how freaked out I am by his sudden appearance- walks up the hill, I feel super unsafe.

He probably has no idea that his swiftness has made me feel out of place, afraid and launched my fight or flight response, all to the delight of the coffee within that rejoices as it pumps itself even further into my body.

Now all I can think about is moving even faster and escaping him.

Looking up the hill, I will my legs to move even faster.

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