I’ve been doing surprisingly well, just stuffed to the brim with different activities and tasks to do (which incidentally left zero time yesterday for writing).
Halloween has been a treacherous time for me, both because of the October Curse and because of the intense drama Halloween has managed to host in the previous years of my life.
The October Curse is a theory I’ve been working on for a while, my six years in Seattle have contributed largely to its research and though I can’t say for sure that the Curse extends beyond the city of Seattle (it may be a local thing, much like the “Seattle Freeze”) I’ve heard rumors that friends in other portions of Washington State have witnessed a similar phenomenon.
In Seattle, October is the month where the clouds set in. The weather makes a big shift and the rain begins. I think that is where the October Curse begins, because almost instantly the city becomes alive.
Not the way it is alive in the summer when the city is full of tourists, Seattle becomes alive with its inhabitants and for the first time in months, locals are creeping out of their homes.
Maybe the clouds are necessary to keep our fragile, pale, pacific-northwest skin from being exposed to too much sunlight. Perhaps our eyes are better accustomed to more dull hues. Whatever the reason, locals break out in full force.
I think it has something to do with the sudden, but serious promise that winter is coming, because once winter comes the locals worm themselves back into their comfortable, warm abodes.
October is the window of opportunity for most to find a mate before the weather becomes, once again, disagreeable.
I try not to go out in public in October much for this very reason. I can spent 11 months out of the year with my headphones plugged in without a soul talking to me, but in October all bets are off. Two days ago I was chatted up by no less than 3 different men, which would sound much more surprising if you knew the icy exterior I put on while walking downtown (usually in an attempt to deter this sort of interaction).
From my experience the Curse only seems to effect men, some kind of wolf-man scenario but with hormones, and the month of October acts as the full moon.
I’ve seen the Curse muck up perfectly good male-female platonic relationships. The most cowardly of men have suddenly sprung the ability to talk to even the most gorgeous of women, and that isn’t to say that they are the ones getting most of the attention. Your average, every day woman on the street (even ones in sweatpants who just rolled out of bed) becomes an intensely sought-after commodity.
The desperation is palpable, and is not unlike the desperation one attributes to most women around valentines day. This desperation just doesn’t have a name, so I have dubbed it the October Curse.
October is also about the time my villianous ex-boyfriend tended to repeatedly pop back into my life to completely confuse and screw with my emotions. Even though I haven’t seen him in several years now I can tell that my anxiety about it is still there.
Supposedly the body and mind remember these sorts of things and will prepare itself for similar events when the internal clock’s alarm goes off.
Mine is going off, and my nightmares are riddled with threats. Even without his direct presence in a dream, his portrait will be on one wall in a skewed room starting at me.
My physical escape from harm somehow doesn’t mean a mental escape. And I think to myself,
- I’ve done a good job of not giving out my current address, right? As far as I know, none of his friends even know where I live.
- I’ve checked the lock on the balcony door, right? In the past, locks have rarely stopped him but it brings a little relief.
- If he comes anywhere near my home I will unleash a wrath so great he’ll wish he never had.