I Am Stressed.

Lately, the notion of walking into the woods, sitting beneath the biggest tree I can find, and staying there until I become one with the forest bed and moss is quite compelling. I'm craving a sense of serenity. It seems no matter which way I look, there are fires in my life raging out of control. Some of them are new, and some of them have been burning for a long time, but I’ve managed to keep them controlled until now. That’s the deceptive thing about dealing with anxiety: you can manage something for months—years, even—but the moment you lose control over one stressor, the work you put into handling all the others seems to crumble. And I’ve been working to handle a lot of stressors over the years. But at the end of the day, I’m still here, I’m still waking, and I’m still living.

There are some days when I feel like I am barely scraping by in all of these aspects. I’m here, but I might not be as involved as I want to be. I’m awake, but I’m asleep too long. I’m alive, but it feels more like surviving. The bare minimum. And when I put in the bare minimum, I feel guilty. I have the time, but I don’t utilize it as I think I should, and fall into a pit of discouragement. It’s quite a bit of work to pick myself out of these pits, and on most occasions I don’t have the leftover energy to manage it. I give everything to the stressors, and I have nothing left for myself, my needs, my care.

I still don’t have a great solution for when I fall into these pits. I don’t think I have ever successfully picked myself up from one in the time of crisis; I merely get out when the stressor ebbs and I can focus on myself. But truly? It is in these times of crisis that I realize how important it is to listen to my body. I’m exhausted for a reason—mental stress, physical exertion, emotional battles. The list adds up, and it’s no wonder I can’t find the extra ten minutes in my night to shower before I crash in a restorative sleep. Stress is exhausting. Somedays, the most I can do for myself is cook an actual meal, vacuum the floor, or paint a little funny picture. It’s important to find the little everyday tasks to keep busy. People often see distractions as a crutch, but I see them as a moment to breathe. A moment when I don’t have to worry, I don’t have to think about what comes next. I can turn my brain off for a bit of time and be at ease in midst of the storm. Because if I can’t, then I really am just surviving, and I want to put in the effort to make sure I actually live. I still have my ambitions; I still have my novels and stories waiting for me when I’m ready. But for these moments, I’m learning it's okay to take a step back and breathe.