Halloween

    When I was a kid, Halloween wasn't very good for me . I loved the candy, the costumes, the smell of cinnamon, apple, and pumpkin drifting through the clear October air. But the actual trick or treating part was rough. The air would be sharp and cool, that Texas fall chill that smells like dry leaves and dirt. Porch lights glowed along the street, and kids ran past in crinkly costumes, laughing and carrying on in the dark. I remember trying to breathe slowly, trying to keep my heart from racing. But Halloween is not kind to someone with bad anxiety. (I guess if, anxiety was on a scale of one to ten. My anxiety lives around a three or three and a half on a normal day.)
    Every face was hidden behind plastic. The night filled with screams and laughter two sounds that can feel almost the same when you’re anxious and every knock on a stranger’s door made my stomach twist tighter. Oh my goodness my anxiety was so bad my mom just did not understand. Forced to go door to door with my anxiety shoots up more and more. Eventually, it would all become too much. I’d end up in the emergency room with a panic attack, with lights too bright.
    Just wanting to get back to my room and to my bed, forgetting about all the candy. Getting back from the emergency room, opening the door to the living room where my sister had something for me.
    My sister was out there, walking up to each porch without me. She’d knock on the door, hold out two bags, and say, “Can I have a piece of candy for my brother?” And she came home with the big bag of candy for me. I couldn't believe it!