Featured photo by Destiny Mizell
Story by Destiny Mizell
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I ignored my SXSW confirmation email for weeks. My family and mentor practically forced me to go — and, more importantly, enjoy myself. Had I known it would be the most liberating experience of my life, I would have freed myself from my mind a lot sooner.
Middle Tennessee State University sent 10 audio production students to attend the festival in Austin, Texas. The school added two student journalists to document the trip: one broadcast, one print. I knew I stood a chance of receiving the opportunity, but I doubted it would be me. Part of me hoped it wouldn’t be.
Anxiety declared that I didn’t possess the strength or skill to go. Agoraphobia erupted in hysterical laughter — the punchline being the thought of me flying with strangers, 900 miles away from home for six days.
Fear alters the way we see reality. I knew that SXSW is the biggest film and music festival in the world; a quilt of the most treasured fabrics of my human experience. I understood the gravity of being chosen for such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, especially so close to graduation. Visiting Texas sat on my bucket list for a while before I even knew what SXSW was.
I also recognized that I have avoided flying for my entire life. Exploring new places makes me feel unsafe. Crowds are overstimulating. Heights from bridges or tall buildings leave me with trembling legs and clammy hands. Constant exposure to these elements felt like a WikiHow article about summoning an anxiety attack.
The ironic part? I’m not terrified of any of those things. What I fear most is the feeling of all of the air being sucked out of the atmosphere, tingling limbs, my quickening heartbeat and an adrenaline rush from hell. I fear a fight-or-flight response, not crowds, heights or unfamiliar places.
So, I put off responding to the email detailing the phenomenal experience that undoubtedly awaited. Two weeks later, the prickling sensation of an anxiety attack washed over me in the middle of Wal-Mart while I browsed soap, of all things. Once I got to my car, I took a calming breath and pulled down the driver–side’s sun visor.
“You can either have an anxiety attack here in a grocery store — which you will again — or you can have an anxiety attack in Austin, eating a taco and listening to music,” I said to myself.
At SXSW, I experienced daily anxiety attacks because I kept thinking about how badly I wanted to avoid them rather than just living in the present. Each time, I would start shifting my weight back and forth on my feet as my thumbs rapidly typed SOS messages to my support system. After deep breaths and focusing on my positive surroundings, I would find myself descending back to Earth.
“I’m going to at least try to get through this moment,” I told myself.
The number of anxiety attacks I experienced rapidly decreased as the days continued. When I returned to my hotel room sweaty and sore every night, I realized that I survived everything I told myself I couldn’t.
Not only did I survive, I lived. I rooted myself in the present and savored every moment, eventually forcing irrational fear out of my narrative.
I fell deeply in love with Austin. Food trucks, taco places and barbecue joints marinated the city — aka every girl’s dream. I met fascinating individuals and debated the meaning of art with strangers. The eclectic live music scene called my name. I laughed until my sides ached and sang until my voice grew raspy. I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
I became fast friends with the girl I roomed with, the video journalist. We shared a mutual love for “yapping,” trying restaurants, shopping, gazing at dogs and Ubering when we were too exhausted to walk. Our friendship pushed me to focus on weaving memories instead of worst-case scenarios.
Though I didn’t get as close to the audio production students, it is a treat to know them. The crew’s camaraderie affirmed to me that I belonged, that I deserved to have the opportunity. I’ll never forget those feelings.
On my last day in Texas, I didn’t really want to leave. I mentally moved mountains and had an amazing time doing it. I chuckled at the irony of the situation as I packed my suitcase.
I returned to Tennessee with a sense of invincibility and pride. The experience disarmed my apprehension. It showed me that the freedom I’ve craved for years waited in arms reach all of this time.
That’s not to say my anxiety is cured; it probably never will be. However, I don’t fear having an anxiety attack anymore. A fight-or-flight response won’t last forever, and it can’t hurt you. Self-torture will hurt you: pondering what could’ve been. If I cheated myself from the opportunity out of worry, regret would haunt me forever. If anxiety already dwells within your comfort zone, why not embrace it somewhere infinitely more enjoyable?
I’m unbelievably grateful to everyone at MTSU who made SXSW happen and everyone who believed in me when I couldn’t.
To contact Lifestyles Editor Destiny Mizell and Assistant Lifestyles Editor Shamani Salahuddin, email lifestyles@mtsusidelines.com. For more news, visit www.mtsusidelines.com, or follow us on Instagram at MTSUSidelines or on X at @MTSUSidelines.
