I learn the most about myself when I’m with people who know me. And the people who know me know I like to function under copious amounts of stress.
You can ask any member in my family – they will tell you.
It’s a strange addiction, and like any addiction, it bites me in the ass some days.
Sometimes I overdose.
Thoughts are typically running together in my head all the time anyway, but in the case of stress overdosing, the thoughts collide at electrifying speed. Surprisingly, they still make sense, though, which is good since a lot of decisions are made during this phase.
Sometimes I crash.
I am human, and despite my tenacity under pressure, I can’t live under it all the time. But it’s hard to come off it. So when I’m home and after my weekend work is done, I fill my editorial stress with stress of laundry, cleaning, cooking, packing for my next week, and taking care of the animals. I also like to sit on the back porch, and even that is routinized.
Sometimes it’s just enough.
On most days, I maintain a healthy balance between stress and a low heart rate. It’s a motivator for me, it inspires me to change, to make things better, to enjoy simplicity and to pursue moments of solitude.
It keeps me grounded, tense, and sometimes desperately seeking its antithesis.
It also produces good newspapers, hearty decisions and resiliency.