Come, join me for a moment as I reminisce about my dorky teenage years...
When I was in high school, I was co-editor-in-chief of my yearbook. Compared to real world work, this was not a challenging gig. But at the time, it felt like a pretty demanding post to hold. I had continual deadlines, stories to write, grammar to check, a staff to manage and an entire student body counting on me to produce something they would keep in their closets for decades to come. When you're 17, that's a lot of pressure.
And the thing I remember about those times is how I sort of got a high from the stress. I thrived on the pressure. I loved pulling late nights to meet deadlines. It made me feel important. It made me feel in control.
Flash forward 17 years, and you'll see a different girl. One who gets exhausted by stress. One who needs downtime on a daily basis if she's going to survive from one day to the next. One who occasionally has heart palpitations because There's Just Too Much To Do.
It was that kind of week last week. Work was a flood of requests—and the very worst kind. The kind that you think you've solved but they just keep coming back and sucking more mental energy from your already depleted little brain. Then there was the running schedule that had to be worked in somewhere. Training always gets my tension two-stepping. So much pressure knowing that you've got to work hours of run-time into your schedule... Add in Mr. W's out-of-town guests who wanted to spend time with the both of us (thus compelling me to commute back and forth between our two houses for most of the week) and you were left with a girl whose fuse was about as long as the hair on her freshly shaven legs.
Although I spent Friday night recuperating, there was still a meltdown on Saturday.
And I wonder how in the world it ever was that I tolerated—even invited—stress into my life.
I watch Dr. Oz quite a bit and he constantly talks about the ills of stress. It's so bad for your body—it encourages aging, disease, I believe even obesity (which might explain the little muffin top that never seems to go away...) If I keep having weeks like the last one, I'm going to hit 100 before I turn 40.
What do you all do to de-stress when you're feeling at your wit's end?