Nauseous, weak-in-the-knees, and deprived of sleep, I clambered into my Xterra with a soda in-hand, and shakily shoved the keys into the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life, and I immediately rolled down the windows and turned the AC up full-blast, hoping I’d get cold enough for my body to ignore the anxiety and instead focus on avoiding hypothermia. 

In my mind, I kept telling myself over and over again, “You got this. You know your shit. You can do this presentation all on your own if you have to, but you’ll have at least one other groupmate by your side. You can do this. You can do this…”

I didn’t drive to campus blasting loud redneck music that cool, Monday afternoon. Instead, I drove in silence, the wind roaring through the open windows and my mind coming up with solutions to every “what if” I had pertaining to my college group presentation. Even if I did decide to wreck my eardrums with some good shit from Clutch or Hillbilly Hellcats, it wouldn’t have been enough to shut down my anxious mind. I just had to grin and bear it. And, freak out later. 

The drive to campus was much shorter than I wanted it to be, even though I took a longer route that day. I spent another ten minutes or so aimlessly circling the parking lot like a shark, just to stall a little bit more and give myself a little more time to rein in my absolute terror. After all, there’s nothing I fear more than standing up in front of a bunch of people while being graded for it! Especially in college. 

Finally, I found a parking spot as far from the college building as possible, hung my parking pass onto the rear-view mirror, and just barely had the strength to hold myself up on shaking knees as I stepped out of the truck. I heaved my backpack over my shoulder, locked the Xterra, and began dragging my feet towards campus. Taking my therapist’s advice, I tuned into my immediate surroundings as much as possible. If I could just live in the moment for two minutes, then my anxiety about the looming presentation on ancient Mayan astronomy would greatly diminish. 

A strong cold front was on its way, bringing with it a swift breeze and cooler temperatures. It was still a little warm for my liking, but I knew that would change soon. Golden leaves bounced across the asphalt with the gusts, and crunched under my dragging boots as I trudged closer to the college fortress. Wispy clouds drifted eastward high above me in the deep blue sky. To the west, thick grey clouds hovered over the mountains. Soon, they’d blanket the clear skies above me. There was a decent chance I’d be driving home in the rain. 

Doing my best to hide my fear, I slipped my KN95 mask over my face and reached for the door to the college. By now, I was surrounded by busy students, some gathered in groups socializing, others practically sprinting to-and-fro. Inside the building, I plodded up three huge flights of stairs I’d usually sprint up. Waves of nausea rolled over me, but I managed to shake them for the most part. 

But, my body immediately changed the second I stepped into my classroom. All of my nausea and fear and shakiness dove in deep under the surface, and I put up a bubbly, ready-to-go facade. The professor and several students warmly greeted me as I took a seat at the table where two of my three group mates were seated. I could sense that they were just as stressed as I was. I could see it in their eyes. But, they seemed to relax when I sat down across from them and nodded in their direction. Looking back, I realize they saw no fear in my eyes. Nobody even suspected I was the most terrified student in the room, and spent the whole night before on the verge of vomiting and shaking so hard I couldn’t even read a book. 

Nobody.