STRESS: How to Lighten Your Stress Load
I am petrified of public speaking; so, naturally, when I was 37, I decided to begin a business where I stood up in front of people to give talks about managing stress.
I attribute this choice to the fact that I didn’t get the lead part in a play in high school -- ever since, I’ve been trying to be a star performer, not simply “Aunt Bea,” secondary character. One of my many personality flaws is that I need gold stars nearly every single day, just ask my husband.
I decided on the topic of stress for my business because I had felt so much of it in my life. When I was little, I worried about my dolls while I was at school. When I learned to drive, I worried about handling high-speed highway driving (I still do). When my daughter was an infant and began sleeping in her crib in her own room, I pushed the crib into the doorway of her nursery and slept with my head at the foot of my bed in my room across the hall so I could see out my bedroom doorway into hers. I also had a baby monitor hooked up. We were literally 12 feet apart in our separate rooms.
As the years continued and I had a second baby, my overactive stress response and worry gene kicked into an even higher gear. By the time I was 37 I had dealt with a fair share of self-induced anxiety.
Through a chain of events, which included an epiphany while teaching a freshman writing class as a part-time professor, I began selfishly researching how to get rid of stress. And while I quickly recognized there was no solution to completely eliminate stress, I learned I could try things to minimize the stress I felt.
Through experimenting with different techniques I started feeling some relief, and before I knew it my entrepreneurial spirit kicked in and I hatched a plan to start a business where I would teach these valuable techniques to other poor souls who were also super stressed out. I figured if a life long stress-a-holic like me could minimize stress, then anyone could.
Learning about stress was really interesting. Presenting what I had learned to real live humans was very stressful.
One of my first paid talks was for $200, and I delivered it to a group of grade school teachers. In the weeks leading up to the talk I furthered my education on the topic of stress via an online certification that allowed me to call myself “A Certified Stress Management Expert.” It didn’t matter that the course took five hours total or that the “institute” it came from was probably run out of a guy’s basement. I had a title, and I proudly listed it on my bio and desperately hoped that none of the teachers would ask for details.
On the morning of the talk, which was scheduled for after school at 3:00 PM, I took my usual shower. I was feeling a lot of fear about the upcoming presentation, and when I got out of the shower my heart was thumping so fast I felt like I was going to pass out. No one was home, so I sat on my bed in my towel and turned the ceiling fan on full blast to try to keep myself from passing out. I had not learned about this technique in my stress management education — it was just the only thing that occurred to me at that moment. I tried to take some deep breaths, calm my thoughts, and relax. As the fan blew down on me, I couldn’t help but wonder what the teachers would think if they saw said stress expert in such a state under the fan, half naked and ghost white from fear.
I recovered, got dressed and loaded all of my supplies for my talk into my SUV and pretended like the whole fan / bed thing never happened. My denial of the fear is categorized as a coping mechanism, which IS something I learned about while taking my stress management class.
Coping mechanisms are tricky. When you cope by doing activities like running or journaling or meditating, it’s approved and thought highly of. When you do things like drinking multiple Moscow Mules or eating a whole bag of caramel corn or binge watching six hours of Big Little Lies, it’s kind of looked down upon.
I’m not sure where the fan / bed strategy would fall on this coping continuum, but it seemed to work because I did not run away like my body wanted me to, but instead arrived at the school and went inside. In the fight or flight game, I had decided to get up and fight.
Since I was so afraid of standing in front of people and talking, I decided to bring props to explain what I had learned about managing stress. I figured it would take the focus off of me and give participants something to remember.
A couple of nights before the talk, I diligently wrapped 8 canned goods of various sizes with shiny white papers on which I had printed the word “STRESS” in a scary, shaky font.
My homemade labels really shined as I set up the small faculty lounge for the talk. I lined up various-sized cans, from tomato paste to commercial-sized baked beans, on the table in front of me.
As the teachers came in, they commented on the cans, some chuckling as they looked at them. I felt proud that I had created intrigue. I would have liked it better if one of them had validated me with one of their gold stars (which I knew were literally on the premises), but I settled for just being there; that was an accomplishment seeing as how my heart nearly exploded earlier that morning.
As I began my presentation, I could feel my knees shaking. It didn’t help that an early elementary school teacher of mine, who I once saw paddle two classmates in front of the entire class, was in the room. Back in the day, she was quite the disciplinarian. The added pressure made my voice quiver. Not a great start for a stress expert.
I avoided Mrs. X’s eyes as I asked the teachers to imagine that each morning when they woke up and went to their kitchens, all of their current stressors were on the table as canned goods.
I told them to picture smaller stressors as tomato paste sized cans and larger ones as baked bean sized cans. I’m not going to lie, I had a few quizzical looks that translated to what the hell is this woman talking about, but for the most part people were sticking with me.
I passed out a handout and asked the teachers to list their current stressors in columns labeled XS, S, M, L, and XL. I didn’t have to ask them twice; the teachers started listing things right away.
Since I had not done this exercise with a group before, I didn’t realize the amount of stressors that would start gushing out of the teachers and onto the handouts. Some people laughed as they listed more and more, while others leaned over and whispered their stressors to their neighbors. Some people shielded their papers like someone was trying to cheat off of them, but all of them were listing so many things that they were running out of room.
One person asked if it was ok to put the first name of someone they knew in the XL category. Another jumped in and said, “Yes! I’m doing that too.” As the lists got filled up, you could feel a weird mix of relief and super-sized stress circling the space.
Once the lists were complete, participants started looking up at me, communicating Now what? with their faces. Some of them looked at me like, How are you going to get us out of this one?
Although I felt a little fear at the challenge of minimizing the stress they had just unloaded onto paper, I also felt a little pang of joy because I was prepared for the next part of my demonstration.
The other prop I had brought that day was a black Nike backpack. This same backpack had seen some stress of its own, having traveled with us on nearly every family vacation since my kids were toddlers. The stories it could tell about Disney World belonged in the XL stress category.
Let me digress for a moment to tell a quick story about stress and Disney (if you’ve been there with little ones you know it is the happiest and most stressful place on earth). One morning as we waited in line for Pooh’s Adventure, we witnessed a Dad cutting in line to reach his family that was already there. The Mom, not happy at all, said in a biting tone, “I told you to be here at 10. Where have you been?” The Dad tried to deflect and move on, but the Mom wasn’t having it. (And I have to admit I’ve been here before, the place where I refuse to let a budding argument die.)
After several more attempts and commentary from Mom, Dad turns to her and says very loudly, “If this is the kind of vacation where I can’t even take a shit in the morning, I don’t want to be here.” The mystery of Dad’s disappearance had been solved along with shutting down Mom’s entire line of questioning. Neither of them said another word as they inched past colorful replicas of Pooh and friends meant to distract and occupy little ones as they waited to board the ride. Who knew that literal pooh would needle its way into the experience for them and all of the families in earshot.
“Vacation moments like this remind us that even fun, happy events can generate stress.”
But back to the classroom.
When I planned my talk, I thought a backpack could be the next part of a memorable analogy.
As the participants looked up at me in anticipation, I reached under the table and pulled up the empty Nike backpack for all to see. I continued with the demonstration by saying,
“Ok, now that you’ve done an inventory of all of your stressors, let’s go back to your kitchen table. Imagine that every stressor you’ve just written down is a canned good on your table. Now imagine that before you leave the house, you have to put all of those cans in this backpack.”
I began taking my scary-font STRESS labeled cans and piling them into the backpack. When I got the cans all loaded in, I zipped up the backpack and actually put it onto my back.
I exaggerated being pulled back by the weight of the backpack. Walking around the front of the room I asked, “How do you think I’m going to feel if I have to carry this backpack around all day?”
The room was silent. I held a lengthy pause. Finally someone said, “Well, your back is going to hurt.” Another jumped in, “Exhausted.” And then a whole flood of comments,
“You’re not going to be very nice”
“Frustrated”
“Weighed down”
“Not flexible”
“Short-tempered”
And one person said, “I think I would need a bigger backpack.”
“One thing I had been right about when I chose stress as the topic of my speaking business is that everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, including that person you think has a perfect life, has a bunch of stress to put in his or her backpack every day.”
In a later workshop, a participant said, “I would need a backpack and a Samsonite to pull behind me to fit all of the stress I have.”
I affirmed that chronic, daily stress that goes unchecked is one of the most hazardous conditions for our health. Stress releases a cocktail of hormones meant to help us survive by pushing us into fight or flight mode. This mechanism has been in place since the days when humans were afraid of being eaten by lions, a scenario that has been mentioned countless times when people write about stress and the stress response. These hormones used to help us take action in order to survive. In other words, the response would help us avoid becoming the lion’s lunch.
The problem these days is that we get the same release of adrenaline, cortisol and other hormones when we face non-life threatening stress. So, if someone cuts us off in traffic or even just makes us mad on Facebook by commenting or not commenting, our bodies are being flooded with the same hormones too often. These fluctuations in our physiology can be damaging to our systems if we are exposed to them constantly.
Chronic stress has been linked as a contributor to the conditions below:
high blood pressure
heart palpitations
anxiety and depression
low energy and fatigue
decreased cognition and decision making skills
As I relayed this information to the participants, I played up the heaviness of the backpack that was still on my back. Then, I moved on to another set of questions.
Me: “How do you think it would affect you if you’re driving with your backpack on?”
Participant: “Road rage”
Participant: “Maybe that’s why people cuss and flip the bird?”
Me: Nodding my head.
Me: “Have you ever gone out on a date with your significant other with your backpack on?”
Participant: “I can’t remember the last time we went on a date.”
Participant: “Yes, I carry my backpack EVERYWHERE.”
Me: “On those dates, do you ever start unpacking your backpack and hoping that your significant other solves your stress?”
Participant: “Oh! Yes, I just did that last night. I didn’t even think about it.”
Me: “How did it affect your date night?”
Participant: “Not great”
Me: “Have you ever picked up cans that were really someone else’s and put their stress in your backpack?”
Participant: “All of the time!”
When I scanned the room, I could tell that people were starting to understand how the backpack was affecting their daily lives whether they had acknowledged it or not.
“Chronic daily stress is more than just a health hazard. It’s a relationship hazard, an obstacle to joy, and a pathway to anxiety and depression. ”
And yet, so many of us unknowingly strap on our metaphorical backpacks each day not realizing that what’s in there affects every area of our lives.
Stress is cumulative, and if we don’t have ways to monitor and process it, it can build up, weigh us down, keep us miserable, and even make us sick.
The question becomes: Are we brave enough to look at what’s inside our backpacks?
When I first looked in mine, I realized there was some pretty old stuff hanging out in there. We all have our fair share of ancient history cans in our backpacks.
Here were some of mine that were at least a decade old:
Old friend drama from high school
Disappointments from family members from way back when
Hurt feelings from the time my grandma told me she didn’t like my haircut in my twenties (it was a pretty bad haircut, to her credit)
I realized “if only” cans had also started to pile up.
If only I had a life like hers, that woman down the street who always looks pulled together, then I would be happier.
If only I would have spent more time writing earlier in life, then maybe by now I would have a best seller.
If only I were a size four, then I wouldn’t worry so much about my belly, which looks kind of like a baby bump, but the baby is now 21.
The “if only” cans were shoved so far down in my backpack I had forgotten that I was even carrying them around. Only by grabbing those cans, unloading them and letting them see the light of day did I realize how silly it would be to put them back in my backpack.
When you first do your backpack inventory, you realize you can automatically lighten your load by simply choosing to let go of some of the oldies.
I asked if anyone was willing to share with us some of the stressors that were currently in their backpack. I wasn’t sure how this part would go, but the teachers talked so much I had to cut off the conversation after five minutes. Sharing our stressors with others provides its own kind of relief. However, we had to move on because I couldn’t leave them with overflowing backpacks and no solutions.
One of the teachers asked, “What should I do about that extra large can that has a first name on it?”
This question took us beautifully into the final piece of the presentation – how to lighten your backpack. As I rounded the bases of my first stress speaking gig and headed home to the conclusion of the presentation, I noticed that something wonderful had happened; my nerves had calmed, and I was enjoying sharing this information.
I wrapped up by sharing what I knew about managing stress and used it to address the participant’s XL first-name stressor question.
I had learned in one of the books I read that there are pretty much only four responses to a stressor:
1. Eliminate the stressor.
2. Change your response to the stressor.
3. Use a coping mechanism.
4. Develop a new coping mechanism.
Since solution #1 would likely end in prison time, the only 3 options you have when dealing with a person who brings an unusual amount of stress are 2, 3, and 4.
My favorite for this particular problem is 2:
Change your response to the stressor.
The thing is, other adults aren’t likely to change anytime soon. They’re going to behave in the same ways they’ve behaved since they’ve known you.
So, if your crazy co-worker corners you at every work function to complain about EVERYTHING in life, including the taco dip (that you made and brought with you), accept this fact and change your response to her.
In this scenario, you could:
un-corner yourself
prep in advance and ask a friend to help you extract yourself if she sees this person engaging with you
make polite conversation and wrap it up and move on as soon as possible
avoid said co-worker if possible
tell her to make her own damn taco dip
There is no perfect answer for this or many of life’s stressors that we find in our backpacks, but one thing is certain: taking action will help to reduce the size of each can.
One of the most compelling things I learned while researching stress is that it’s our perception of the stress, rather than the actual stressor, that matters. If we perceive that we can do something about the stressor, we feel less stress and eliminate many of the physiological effects. If we feel stuck without options, our bodies stay in the stress response and are overexposed to all of the stress hormones we talked about.
No matter what is in your backpack, you’ll benefit from taking an inventory and reflecting on how to take action about each can. Whether it’s that you take it out and let it go or take an action to reduce the size of the can, the most important part of the analogy is to remember to acknowledge and process your daily stressors.
As my final trick of the talk, I ended by saying we will always have a backpack. To be human is to have stress. The only time we will be completely stress free is when we are dead, and that’s not a coping mechanism from which you can recover.
The key, I emphasized in my finale, is to manage your stress, to know your stressors, and to take action on reducing the amount and size of the cans in your backpack. At that, I pulled out a mini black backpack that was half the size of my famed Nike backpack. Inside of it I had several small cans. As I strapped it to my back, in full demo mode, I said, “Now, wouldn’t this be easier to carry around every day?” The teachers agreed – I mean, it’s a “yes” everybody can get on board with.
“Keeping your backpack light, knowing what’s in it, and regularly processing it isn’t as easy as the magic trick of pulling a smaller backpack out of the larger one. Managing stress is still hard, even for a “Certified Stress Management Expert” like me, but it can be done. And the more you do it, the easier it gets. ”
As I walked to my car, I was glad that my XL size can labeled public speaking was out of my backpack for now. I could tell that I had made a difference in the room that day, and when a teacher approached me afterward to say how much she needed to hear the message I had shared, I felt like she was giving me my much desired gold star.
Since then I have shared the backpack analogy with hundreds of people. Luckily, I no longer have to do the bed / ceiling fan routine before every talk.
The analogy isn’t perfect, but it does raise awareness about managing daily stress if you want to live a joyful and meaningful life. I still use it in my own life on a regular basis and take a stress inventory when I’m starting to feel overwhelmed.It’s amazing what I find hidden down in the depths of my backpack each time I take a look, and what I can let go of by simply realizing it’s there.
The next time someone is being a jerk or a grump or making your life miserable, think about what might be in their backpack, send some good vibes and well wishes their way, and then run like hell in the other direction.
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