Stress can be so many things; it’s a fluid construct. It can be so much, yet so very tiny.
You can find yourself overthinking everything like what you have to do this very minute and how you have such little time (fifty-two minutes to be exact), while other times, you can have nothing to think about because your brain is just completely flubbed from the exhaustion of thinking. Liquid. Solid. Gas. These are the modes of stress.
Lately, I’ve been brawling with Stress-ica Simpson because work is at an all-time high, and so are my social engagements. Plus, not to mention, I’ve been working out almost every day of the week to prevent my body from atrophying as a result of my shitty laptop posture.
There’s a relationship here, though. Work and success. I’ve been conditioned to think that stress is a pathway to winning and that one can not exist without another. I understand the argument slightly: you have to hurt to experience the great. Metaphors like “Pressure makes diamonds” only reinforce this notion.
Do I need to work through the worst pain to get myself to the other side?
It’s like a sense of guilt that you’ve been provided with an opportunity, so the least you can do is experience it to the fullest. I think that’s what gets me the most. I think about how fortunate I am to have this work coming in. Why should I do anything to ruin it? Success is honestly the most important goal to me. It’s up there with my family. I want to reap the benefits of money. You don’t think I love shopping at Holt Renfrew?
But at what cost, though? Stress may lead to success, but the journey certainly includes some bitchiness and anger-filled arguments.
The Struggle Is Real
Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t like being a fucking bitch. At least to my family, I don’t. However, it is difficult to engage in meaningless conversations when you’ve just woken up and are already in a panic from the thought of everything you need to get done. I don’t want to talk about anything; I want to start crossing things off my mental checklist.
I may sound like a complainer, but in fact, I do quite a bit for my family. The majority of the online tasks, from health claims, registrations, and shopping, are tasks that I am given. Do I take them on? Yes. With a smile? No.
I think I’m starting to realize why adulting is a stupid bitch. It’s not exactly what you envision because your mind is glued to the office downtown near the skyrise, with the city views. The money in the bank account. The fine dining. The gifts. The perks. The organic juices. No mind paid to the stress whatsoever.
This routine has been my norm for the past decade. I don’t think I ever truly felt like this during high school. My undergrad brought this sense of morning recalibration back into my life.
Excuse My Chaotic Energy
Sometimes, my mind is so chaotic that I’ll just start thinking about business taxes and what the hell that means. I absolutely have no clue how the fuck taxes work. It’s embarrassing for me, but also the public education system. How are we still not learning about taxes in high school? I do not give a fuck about trig.
It’s like my mind is trying to sabotage my productive streak. Dumb slut.
Requesting Silence Rather Than Commanding It
Plain and simple: Respect me in my time of stress by giving me silence. Allow me to breathe and gather my thoughts. It’s not a lot to ask for because it doesn’t require work on anyone’s end. Ignore me. Avoid me. Leave me. I’ll find you when I’m ready.
The worst part of stress is not being provided with the space to collect yourself. I divert my eyes from people to give them a fucking clue that I do not have the time nor the energy to entertain whatever is on their minds.
Being asked for stuff while overwhelmed is not a good feeling, nor does it do anybody any favours.
The Omnipresence of Stress in My Life
Just because I may be smiling or on my phone does not mean that the stress has suddenly evaporated from my body. It’s still fucking there.
I think this one-for-all construct is damaging to the perception of stress. There is no one look to it. It’s an amalgamation of different thoughts, feelings, and behaviours. I may come out of my office to play with my nephew, but that doesn’t mean the stress has suddenly exited my asshole. It’s all up in me bitch. I’m just taking a 5- to 10-minute break to act like a lion on the ground.
I very badly want to manage my stress. I have all of these goals set in place to get everything done. I know there will be a day when I have the time to establish a list of tasks together to manage my current client work; it’s in my peripheral. I can see it. But the only problem is that it’s been there for months. So technically, the time has not been made.
How to Deal with Stress
I don’t fucking know. I’m asking you.