excited for my first Halloween on campus. Like,
really fucking excited. Our trip to the mall last week provided us with the
accessories we need to pull off our joint costumes. Apparently Halloween is
something you do not miss out on when you’re a college student, it’s a chance
to get dressed up, go out, and have as much drunk fun as possible. It seems
like everyone I talk to, or overhear in class, is going out on campus this
weekend. And if possible, going out several times. I can’t wait to get trashed,
completely fucked in the head, not myself. The idea is sexy, alluring and so
free from panic that I’m almost in a tizzy. But getting myself there in one
piece is the trick.
I fold my new black skirt and red bustier, placing them in
an overnight bag because I’m not going to get dressed up in my costume yet. I
know damn well that my parents will not approve of my sexy devil costume so
I’ll wait to change into it at Hannah’s dorm room where she will be dressed up
as an angel. As I brush my hair, my stomach clenches in violent contractions
and my hand holding the brush shakes. It’s pre-anxiety, something I always
experience before going out somewhere and I deal with it alone in my bathroom,
trying to tamp it down so that it won’t overwhelm me completely.
It’s always the same ritual. Getting dressed and putting on
make-up are automatic, easily accomplished after years of practice, leaving my
mind free to zoom between thoughts of sheer terror, my stomach knotted tight. What
if I get to the frat and start panicking and need to leave? How will I escape? We’ll
probably walk there and no one will want to walk me back and I’ll start freaking
and I can’t use their bathroom because then people will know that I’m
disgusting and I can’t walk back on my own at night...on and on. Then I try to
calm myself down, rationalizing with the monster, talking myself off a cliff. I’ll
be okay because I’ll just drink more. Drinking always knocks that shit out of
my head and tonight will be no different. Besides, I can’t let this shit win, I
want to have some fucking fun.
So momentarily I’m able to slow the beating of my heart
until the next terrifying scenario runs through my mind. I try to distract
myself with the detail work of applying black eye liner and wonder what the
night will bring. Will I have a good time? Will I be able to control my
anxiety? Will I meet a hot guy, someone who isn’t an asshole like Brad or a
cheater like Nick? Now that I’m thinking about guys, a thrill of excitement
runs through me, overriding my worries for a moment. I really like getting sexy
for a night out.
Finally after a quick pep talk to calm my racing heart, I’m
ready to leave and go downstairs to say goodbye to my parents. They are sitting
in the kitchen at the small round table, having coffee and dessert after a late
dinner. My dad is big and gruff, still in his work clothes fresh off the
construction site, his soft hearted smile for his only daughter is sincere and
honest and my mother is always casual, cute, and petite, her voice soft and
muted compared to my father’s louder outbursts.
“Where are you off to?” asks my father, getting up to give
me a hug. My parents are affectionate, caring people and I have always been
able to rely on them to help me and take care of me, but they are also strict
and have a hard time letting me go my own way. I smile at Dad, readying myself
for the half-truths to come.
“I’m going to a party on campus,” I reply, pulling away to
pick up my black bag containing my phone and money and check to make sure my
keys are in the bottom, pretending to be preoccupied.
“Are you coming home afterward?” asks my mother, getting up
to stand beside my father, her question anticipated.
“No, I’m staying over with my friend Hannah in her dorm
room,” I recite, avoiding their eyes. I know they won’t like that answer, but
hopefully won’t complain. I grab the bag I had filled with
really fucking excited. Our trip to the mall last week provided us with the
accessories we need to pull off our joint costumes. Apparently Halloween is
something you do not miss out on when you’re a college student, it’s a chance
to get dressed up, go out, and have as much drunk fun as possible. It seems
like everyone I talk to, or overhear in class, is going out on campus this
weekend. And if possible, going out several times. I can’t wait to get trashed,
completely fucked in the head, not myself. The idea is sexy, alluring and so
free from panic that I’m almost in a tizzy. But getting myself there in one
piece is the trick.
I fold my new black skirt and red bustier, placing them in
an overnight bag because I’m not going to get dressed up in my costume yet. I
know damn well that my parents will not approve of my sexy devil costume so
I’ll wait to change into it at Hannah’s dorm room where she will be dressed up
as an angel. As I brush my hair, my stomach clenches in violent contractions
and my hand holding the brush shakes. It’s pre-anxiety, something I always
experience before going out somewhere and I deal with it alone in my bathroom,
trying to tamp it down so that it won’t overwhelm me completely.
It’s always the same ritual. Getting dressed and putting on
make-up are automatic, easily accomplished after years of practice, leaving my
mind free to zoom between thoughts of sheer terror, my stomach knotted tight. What
if I get to the frat and start panicking and need to leave? How will I escape? We’ll
probably walk there and no one will want to walk me back and I’ll start freaking
and I can’t use their bathroom because then people will know that I’m
disgusting and I can’t walk back on my own at night...on and on. Then I try to
calm myself down, rationalizing with the monster, talking myself off a cliff. I’ll
be okay because I’ll just drink more. Drinking always knocks that shit out of
my head and tonight will be no different. Besides, I can’t let this shit win, I
want to have some fucking fun.
So momentarily I’m able to slow the beating of my heart
until the next terrifying scenario runs through my mind. I try to distract
myself with the detail work of applying black eye liner and wonder what the
night will bring. Will I have a good time? Will I be able to control my
anxiety? Will I meet a hot guy, someone who isn’t an asshole like Brad or a
cheater like Nick? Now that I’m thinking about guys, a thrill of excitement
runs through me, overriding my worries for a moment. I really like getting sexy
for a night out.
Finally after a quick pep talk to calm my racing heart, I’m
ready to leave and go downstairs to say goodbye to my parents. They are sitting
in the kitchen at the small round table, having coffee and dessert after a late
dinner. My dad is big and gruff, still in his work clothes fresh off the
construction site, his soft hearted smile for his only daughter is sincere and
honest and my mother is always casual, cute, and petite, her voice soft and
muted compared to my father’s louder outbursts.
“Where are you off to?” asks my father, getting up to give
me a hug. My parents are affectionate, caring people and I have always been
able to rely on them to help me and take care of me, but they are also strict
and have a hard time letting me go my own way. I smile at Dad, readying myself
for the half-truths to come.
“I’m going to a party on campus,” I reply, pulling away to
pick up my black bag containing my phone and money and check to make sure my
keys are in the bottom, pretending to be preoccupied.
“Are you coming home afterward?” asks my mother, getting up
to stand beside my father, her question anticipated.
“No, I’m staying over with my friend Hannah in her dorm
room,” I recite, avoiding their eyes. I know they won’t like that answer, but
hopefully won’t complain. I grab the bag I had filled with
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