“i don’t know that there are real ghosts and goblins, but there are always more trick-or-treaters than neighborhood kids.” – robert brault

with halloween coming up, i figured that a few confessions were in order.

here’s the thing: i HATE halloween.

i mean, yeah i love candy and trunk/trick-or-treating and my sister-in-law who was born on halloween and cute costumes and some parties and stuff. the cutesy part of halloween.

but i HATE halloween.

why? allow me to shed some light on the subject. (a million points to anyone that can name that reference without looking it up)

some of my earliest memories involve me waking up in the middle of the night, being scared, and not being able to sleep until i woke my mom up and had her come lay somewhere in my room, usually on the floor by my door. i always had to have my closet door shut when i went to sleep. one time, i woke up and thought there was a man in my room. i cried loudly until brad came in and turned on the light. turns out, it was just my lamp. i also went through a phase where i thought that captain hook would come into my room at night (thank you, hook), and if anything except my head was showing outside of the covers, he would cut it off.

i have a very vivid imagination. anyway. don’t think i hate halloween because i got scared as a child, because who didn’t? but i think i’m getting ahead of myself…

rewind all the way back to elementary school, maybe junior high. i was at natasha butler’s house, two doors down. we were having a halloween party. it was all fun and games (literally) until they announced the next activity: putting our hands in containers and guessing what the items were. i think we were choosing from a list, like a brain or intestines or eyeballs, etc. (of course, the food was just cold, wet spaghetti or peeled grapes, etc.) i started panicking. my heart started racing. i couldn’t do it. i wouldn’t do it. i told them that i wasn’t feeling too well, and i was worried about throwing up. natasha looked me in the eye and said, “tenery, it’s just food.” didn’t matter. i was too scared.

fast forward a bit (but not too much). i was at my brother’s house with my dad, and they decided to watch the fugitive. premise: harrison ford gets busted for killing his wife, but he claims that he was framed (i think.) the movie starts with his wife getting attacked, and then she calls the police and reports the attack. her voice was all scratchy, and it scared me so much i had to have my dad take me home! yes, you read that correctly. i got so scared by the sound of someone’s voice that i had to leave the room. (a couple months ago, i saw the fugitive on netflix, and decided that i needed to face my fears. i was home alone, and i started watching it…aaaand turned it off before she even started saying stuff. i was too scared)

fast forward just a couple years to j.r.’s birthday. we went laser tagging. i had never been before, but my brothers had raved about it, and i was so excited. we went into the room where they debrief you before you go get your vest. the walls were covered in the neon artwork that glowed with the black lights. there were all sorts of creatures and it freaked me out. i made craig take me out. he tried talking me back into going in, but i couldn’t. i was too scared.
note: i love laser tagging. it took some time, but i love it.

fast forward a few more years. i was at byu, and i got asked out on a date by one of my dad’s former assistants (not exactly crucial to the story, but a fun tidbit). we were going to frightmares at lagoon. if you don’t know, lagoon is an amusement park in utah. it’s a family place, so they can’t make frightmares too scary or creepy. they had a haunted maze thing. this was the first haunted anything i’d ever been in, and i was terrified. but here’s the thing: it really wasn’t even scary. it was just weird, like circus weird. the people that would jump out in a normal haunted house were just walking around. the lighting was weird, and i think there was a strobe light. seriously. not. even. scary. but i held on to my date like my life depended on it. because to me, it did. because i was so freaking scared.

fast forward a little more time. i was still at byu and craig called to invite me to go see a movie with him, dan, and justin. when i got in the car, justin told me they had changed their mind and we were going to a haunted house instead. i started panicking. my heart started racing. i told them that i refused and that they had to take me back home right. now. justin just laughed and laughed and kept saying it over and over. i looked at craig and demanded that he stop the car. i would walk home. he informed me that justin was full of it. we were indeed going to the movies. but man. i about had a heart-attack.

fast forward a couple more years. tayte’s brother invited us to go to lagoon with them. (his work was having some kind of summer work party.) we just hung out with kids, going on rides with them. one of my nephews informed me that his favorite ride was the haunted house ride. (not at all related to frightmares) i panicked a little bit. my heart rate picked up. i just kept telling myself that he’s 6, so how bad can it be? we went on that ride together, and you know? it really wasn’t that bad.

the other day, i saw that ellen had reposted a video of one of when she made one of her employees (a guy) accompany another employee (a girl) to a walking dead haunted house. the video was pretty funny because the guy was so scared and was hiding behind the girl almost the entire time, but i had to stop watching it because the movie was freaking me out.

i could go on and on and on, but i think you catch my drift. i get scared so easily. it’s kind of pathetic actually. i’ve seen like 4 “scary movies,” and i hated every second of them. a friend explained why i’m such a freaking scaredy-cat. i don’t know how legit this explanation is, but i’ve stuck with it. we have this switch in our brain that allows us to see stuff on tv or on movies and know that it isn’t real. my switch doesn’t work all that well. not that i watch stuff and think that ghosts are real or that my house is haunted or anything. it has something to do with my subconscious…

translation: i am a huge wuss.

i’m also super jumpy, which just makes things worse.

that’s why i hate halloween. i swear every decoration jumps out at you or cackles when you walk past it, and some people dress up as horrid, creepy things. because it’s what you do on halloween. i do recognize that there are plenty of cute and clever costumes and i’m excited to live somewhere where kids will come trick-or-treating so i can see their cute costumes. but still.

my name is tenery campbell, and i hate halloween.

because i’m afraid of it.