Stress Isn't Sexy

Let me just preface this post by saying stress happens. Trust me, I'm one of the first people who can, from first-hand experience, justify this being said. There are just times when freakouts, tears, meltdowns, and all out wig-outs are perfectly warranted. However, as a general rule, I have come to learn that this should not be, well, the general rule. Here's my probably skewed, far-too-closely-removed, just-been-there-just-done-that perspective on stress from both the internal and external view.

To those suffering from acute amounts of stress and the mismanagement thereof (and I speak as a recently recovering stress-addict myself), stress is not a badge of honor. Now, I know what you're about to say (because I've said it). I don't 'honor' stress! I know you don't. I didn't think I did either. But whether or not you actually consciously think/say it or not, here's the logic.

Stress is hard.
I'm stressed because I have so much to do.
I have so much to do because someone has entrusted me with all of it.
I must be pretty good at things to be entrusted with so much.
I will do all of the things because I know I can.
I am stressed because I do all the things.
Stress is hard.

Do you see what I did there? There is no fatal flaw in this logic necessarily. In fact, perhaps all of those things are true. But somewhere in there, sometimes, maybe even just a little, there's a hint of pride that slips in there. Something like, the stress is good because it results from me being good at things and people trusting me, therefore I should be stressed. And that, friend, is honoring your stress which may result in you wearing it with a little pride.

Stress has more to teach us than this, though. Stress does not control you. And your response is naturally (again, because it has come out of my own mouth), But I can't change my situation. Or, My job is doing this to me. Or, If I don't do this, it will fail. The objects of your stressful life are merely that. Objects. Or maybe people or time or a situation. And if they are only that, then they are, indeed changeable, avoidable, or fixable. Now before you launch into an all out less-than-logical-because-it's-emotional argument with me, I get it. I understand how you feel and I know why you're thinking what you are. But I am not the Pollyanna, puppies-and-rainbows, be joyful in all things girl you're thinking I am. In fact, more often than not, I describe myself as an ambitious worst-case-scenarioist at best. But here's the deal. If you're ever going to find a way to live a lower stress life, you're going to have to change the way you think about stress and who you consider to actually be in control here. 

A very valuable word should enter into your vocabulary: no. You may have a lot to do. People see this and ask you to do more because you're pretty good at doing stuff. You think you can so you say yes. And then you're more stressed than you were before. Sometimes things just have to give. For me, blogging primarily fell by the wayside as I floundered away in my stress. Some relationships took a hit. Some of the quality of my work began to get shaky. Because I could not, in fact, do it all. Enter the glory of the word no. By saying no to coordinating the office gift exchange, I have freed up an hour or so to, say, write this blog entry. By saying no to staying late at work one night a week, I can workout instead. By saying no to an exciting offer to work on the next big visionary project at work, I get to spend an extra night with Derrick. By saying no to obsessing over timelines, I allow for the flexibility that is required sometimes when working with others. Each time I say no, I find something that I can say yes to. Priorities begin to shift, productivity and quality in many cases goes up, and I am free of the weight that comes with being the woman who can do all of the things. This is control, folks.

One more lesson from stress for the road: Stress isn't sexy. That's right. I said it. When you're stressed, people honesty don't know what to do for you. They don't know how to help you. And in most cases, there isn't any actual way that they can. But they try. They let you rant on the phone, hug you when you cry, wait patiently to get to see you on your mega-stressed terms. It's no fun. It makes them feel bad. It makes them consider keeping their distance. It makes them walk on eggshells to try not to make it worse. Your stress has the potential to harm and change others. For some of you, this news is more stress inducing than reducing in this moment. Now again, there are times that you just need someone to lean on, and there will be times that people you know will need you. But when you always choose to live in high-stress mode, you're not sexy. 

It's time we take a good look at our lives, and realize that stress is not honorable, uncontrollable, or good. It harms you, it harms others, and it can serve as an awful ugly addiction that we refuse to believe can be managed. But it can, and it must be. I have started by making small choices here and there to take back control. Some of them were easy. Some of them have challenged me to rethink everything. But I'm starting to feel sexy again, as if I can be someone that acts more like a people magnet than repellent. And I feel like I know who's in control here, and it's not my job, my dissertation, or my travel schedule. And I know that stress cannot be linked to pride. Doing all of the things does not make me a superhero. It just makes me cranky. 

So here's to a low-stress, high-choice, sexy December that I intend to enjoy to the fullest.