I looked at my boarding pass for what felt like the millionth time. “August 22, 2016. BNA to DAL. Gate C17. Departure time: 6:00 p.m.” I took a deep breath as my stomach did another backflip. My thoughts were scattered and my heart was racing. My sister, Summer, gave me a strange look out of the corner of her eye. This car ride was different than usual. Most of the time our drives consisted of music so loud we thought our ear drums would burst and conversations about boys and school, basic sister talk. But this one was filled with silence.
              

“Are you okay?” She said, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.
             

“Yeah, I’m fine” I lied.  But I wasn't fine; I thought my head was going to explode at any second. I guess she fell for it though.
             

“Ok. Well where do you want to go now? We have a couple of hours to kill before the flight.” She said, still eyeing me suspiciously
             

The flight. My heart began to beat faster at the thought of it. “Um- I don't care,wherever you want.” I managed to choke out. Trying to sound calm was a challenge; my throat was tight and my voice was shaky.
               

“Hmmm…..Oh!” She said, “ I know where we can go.” And we began driving towards downtown Nashville.
               

The strange thing was that I wasn't even sure why I was freaking out. Flying home alone was always a part of the plan. We had been planning this trip for months: I’d drive to Nashville with Summer, help her move into her dorm room, stay for a couple of days, and then fly back home by myself. I knew exactly what to do; my dad had gone over it with me multiple times. I had never been afraid to fly before.. So why was I so terrified? Why was it getting hard to breath? Why did it feel like something was eating my insides? Why were my hands clammy and my mind fuzzy?
           

  This wasn't the first time it had happened. I had experienced small panic attacks before. But never lasting more than half an hour, never like this one. Fear hadn't totally consumed me, like it did now. I couldn't focus on a single thought for more than couple moments. There was a pit in my stomach that was growing by the second. Tears pricked my eyes, but I pushed them back, hoping Summer wouldn't notice. I didn't want to bother her with this; I was overreacting anyway. I couldn't explain to her what I was feeling, I couldn't even explain it to myself.
             

As we drove through downtown, I tried to focus on my surroundings. And that helped for a little while. The colorful buildings, cool shops, and different people roaming the streets distracted me. It was funny; just two nights before I had been so happy on this exact street.
             

We pulled out of Cook Out with our milkshakes in our hands and the music blaring. Summer, Taylor, and I had decided to go for a joyride around Nashville. We drove down Broadway and pulled to a stop at a traffic light. I looked around me. There were shining lights and signs announcing the artist playing at a certain venue that night. The windows were rolled down and the night breeze blew through the car. Summer and Taylor were laughing and singing the words to some country song. All different types of people were walking on the street: tourists, college kids, aspiring musicians, all there under the same lights on the same street as me.
               

“Guys!” Taylor shouted over the music, “ We have to drive over the bridge! It's my favorite part of Nashville.”
             

As we drove over the bridge I looked out my window. Taylor was right; this is the best part. Sitting here you had a perfect view of Nashville. All the lights, all the skyscrapers, everything looked beautiful from here. In this place, with these people, I found myself to be completely content.
           

That was not how I felt driving down Broadway two days later. Content was the exact opposite of the emotion that I had. Anxiety filled my whole body, from my shaking legs to my clouded mind. “What ifs” ran through my mind at an alarming rate. “What if I get lost and miss my flight? What if security has to arrest me in front of the whole airport? What if I get on the wrong plane and end up in Japan?” The last one was a little dramatic but right then I was thinking of every possible thing that could go wrong. The panic was a robber that had taken my mind hostage and for the life of me I couldn't stop it.
   

After a few more minutes of driving, we pulled into the parking lot of McKay’s, a huge used book store. Still feeling nervous, I followed Summer inside, and began browsing the DVD section. I distracted myself from the impending Flight of Doom by searching for a cheap movie to take home. When neither of us found a movie, Summer and I made our way over to the book section.
   

As we walked, I blurted out, “I think I'm having a panic attack.”
   

“Yeah,” Summer said, clearly not surprised, “you’ve been acting pretty weird.” And that’s all she said. I was thankful she didn't push the subject; I might have had a breakdown right there in the middle of the Historical Fiction aisle.

We bought nothing from the store, although I did grab a couple of books from the bin marked “Free.” The two of us hopped back in the car and drove away, headed toward Nashville International Airport. Silence filled the car again as panic continued to eat away at my mind.

“So,” Summer spoke, breaking the silence, “what are you freaking out about?”

I took a deep breath, “Honestly, I have no idea. I guess it’s the flight” What was confusing me was that whenever I thought about the airport, my fear didn't spike. It was a steady panic that had settled inside me, but I was almost positive that it stemmed from the thought of flying home alone.

Summer spoke again. “Well which part of it scares you?” she asked. “The airport or the actual flight?”

“Um, all of it I guess,” I said, “but mainly the airport and security and all that stuff.” I chuckled at how ridiculous I was being. Normal people wouldn’t act this way about a silly little flight.

“I can go over it with you again, if you want,” she said and I nodded in response. So, I went over the steps of a successful trip to BNA for what felt like the hundredth time.

    “This is by far the easiest airport to get through. It only has one floor,” Summer reassured me.

By the time we pulled to a stop in front of the airport, I felt a little more confident. My heart was still pounding and my hands were a little shaky, but compared to how I felt before I told Summer, I felt like a dream come true. I grabbed my bags out of the back seat and turned toward my sister.

“Alright,” she said, “I’ll see you soon, ok?”

“Ok,” I spoke. I was sad, but I couldn't tell if it was from the flight or the fact that I wouldn't see my sister again for another three months. Nevertheless, I got out of the car. “Goodbye.”

She rolled down the window with a grin on her face, “Good luck.” I guess she got some amusement out of watching me squirm, which I understood because this was an odd way for someone to act over a two hour flight. I sighed and smiled as I turned toward the doors of the airport.

A few hours later, I arrived at Dallas. Yes, Dallas not Japan. Everything had gone smoothly aside from the crying baby who sat next to me during the flight. All the worry had subsided as I exited the plane. I felt a little foolish and embarrassed thinking about my behavior, but I am somewhat glad that it happened. I have learned a little more about myself and how to face my fears each time I have a panic attack. I have learned that letting the “what ifs” completely control my mind can ruin my day. Anxiety is something that I struggle with, but now I know that it doesn’t have to control me like it did then. I am stronger than one emotion; fear does not dictate my life. I choose my actions and my responses. If I can learn to hand my anxiety over to God, I know that He will remove my fear.  I control my mind, not the other way around.