Enough is Enough!

 By Amber Taylor
 
“Crap, I have not a freaking idea where to go!” I think frantically as I circle the block around Capital Towers, which is where my internship and the Youth Media Project are located. Both programs last for about 10 weeks. It will occupy me my whole summer.
 
“Frick! What to do?! What do I do?! If I keep circling around the building like this, someone is going to think I'm trying to plot a move to bomb the governor to hell or something!” I worry inwardly as yet once again my anxiety gets the best of me. I stop pacing as I see a guy about my age walk into the entrance. I decide to follow along with my fingers and toes crossed hoping that we are going to the same place. I really hope it’s not a major fail.
 
Luckily,I did not. Even luckier, one of the interns happened to be on the same elevator as me and pointed me to the correct floor. That's how I remember my first day of the Youth Media Project on the 13th floor of Capitol towers.

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I found out about the project through an email from Jed Oppenheim because of a Slam Poetry event back in October I competed in. Because of that, I usually get the 411 of the cool things around the Jackson area. I was pretty stoked, but as the day came near, I grew more anxious. Thoughts about it beginning and ending all badly occupied my mind as May started to draw to an end and June 1 started to become a reality. Shamefully, because of my irrational fears I chickened out on the first meet-and-greet party of the project.  Pathetic, right?
 
So what life-changing epiphany did I have to guide myself on the spiritual journey to the place that is known as the Youth Media Project?  I looked myself in the mirror and decided I've got to quit being so paranoid. Enough is Enough! The words still echo through my head as I head to the 13th floor. “Enough is ENOUGH!” I shout within the sanctuary of my racing mind. I keep repeating it as I step into the room full of young people. My hands are sweaty, my breakfast churns, and my knees are weak. I am nervous and cannot speak for the life of me
 
For a moment, I feel like I'm having an Eminem moment, but “Enough is enough!” echoes through my mind. “Enough is enough” I hear again, and I actually like those words as we gather in the circle to get to know each other. I think “Enough is Enough!”  as I contemplate stepping back out of the ice-breaker games. Soon, not only do I like the phrase but I very well believe in it. 
 
Did I regret escaping my woman cave and going back into the real world? Not at all. Sometimes, it's a challenge getting myself out of bed in the mornings to head to Capital Towers.
    
What if I've been blacklisted overnight because my hair is frizzy and stupid? I  still irrationally worry sometimes as I take that elevator to the 13th floor that I have grown so fond of in a short period of time. Thoughts like these plague my mind periodically throughout the day. If I was not doing something I love, I would have hightailed it out of there.
 
Every year since I started in high school, I had been a part of a literary magazine at my school. When I graduated, I anxiously craved to write again and thought I would not. I am very grateful to the Youth Media Project for providing me the opportunity this summer to do so despite challenges with my anxiety. So far, I have gained skills on how to tolerate the intolerable and skills and very effective skills on solutions journalism. Not only will I be prepared for the journalism field, but these skills can be effective in life.
 
The mood within the program of the other student journalists, interns and instructors is a plus, too. If I had to do this for the rest of my life as a job, it would be wonderful.
 
If wrestling my anxiety means an opportunity like this, then put me in a Spandex suit and call me The Undertaker because I am ready.