Growing up, the concept of “tension” was a constant presence in my life. Whether it was the tension before exams, during family visits, or about the uncertain future, it seemed to be a shared language of minor concerns and passing discomforts. However, the term “stress” felt foreign to me, reserved for those with significant problems or found in medical literature and self-help guides.
As time passed, the tension I experienced evolved into chronic stress without anyone, including myself, recognizing the transition. It became a silent companion, affecting me in ways I couldn’t articulate to those around me.
One particular conversation stands out in my memory. Over coffee one evening, I tried to convey the turmoil within me, describing the weight on my chest, the racing heart, and the relentless stream of thoughts. My friend, with good intentions, offered a simple solution: “You’re just taking too much tension. Try not to think so much.” While meant kindly, her words only reinforced the prevailing belief that stress could be easily dismissed or overcome with willpower.
What others couldn’t see was the internal turmoil I was experiencing—an endless cycle of self-criticism and anxiety, unable to find respite from my racing thoughts. I was trapped in a cycle of survival, with no clear way out.
It took me years to realize that my stress was not a random occurrence but a response to external factors like work demands, family expectations, and societal pressures to appear strong. Instead of addressing these triggers openly, I internalized them, berating myself for not being able to cope like everyone else. While I projected an image of calm and competence to the world, inside, I was struggling to stay afloat.
The tipping point came when a severe panic attack engulfed me, manifesting as physical symptoms that felt like a betrayal of my body. It was in that moment that I understood stress was more than just tension or excessive worry—it was a tangible, debilitating force that demanded acknowledgment and treatment.
What continues to surprise me is how even well-informed individuals tend to downplay the severity of stress, likening it to mere worry rather than recognizing it as a serious health issue. While conditions like heart disease or diabetes are met with empathy and understanding, anxiety and stress are often dismissed as insignificant concerns. However, the impact of stress extends beyond the mind, affecting sleep, digestion, memory, and overall well-being. It is a silent precursor to various illnesses and should be treated with the same gravity as physical ailments.
When I speak of stress as “induced,” I am not absolving external factors of responsibility but acknowledging that stress is a reaction to real, external pressures such as work overload, past trauma, or societal expectations. By understanding stress in this light, we can begin to identify its triggers, set boundaries, seek support, or make necessary changes to our environment. Most importantly, it helps us recognize that stress does not define us—it is a response that can be addressed with the right support and awareness.
Looking back, I wish I had known that it was okay to admit when I was not okay, that seeking therapy was a sign of strength, not weakness, and that chronic stress could escalate into depression if left untreated. I wish I had understood that stress, unlike passing tension, had the power to reshape our identities if ignored. Above all, I wish I had realized that asking for help was not a sign of failure but a fundamental aspect of being human.
Today, when someone confides in me about their stress, I refrain from offering quick fixes and instead inquire about the burdens weighing them down, the duration of their distress, and whether they feel its physical effects. Sometimes, what people need most is not advice but validation—a chance to be heard without being trivialized or told to stop worrying.
The language we use matters. By acknowledging stress as a distinct entity from tension and recognizing it as an induced response rather than a self-inflicted issue, we create room for compassion, understanding, and healing. While stress may always be induced by external factors, the silence, shame, and self-blame associated with it are choices we do not have to continue making.
In conclusion, stress is a significant health concern that warrants attention and support. By reframing our understanding of stress and offering empathy and validation to those experiencing it, we can create a more inclusive and supportive environment for mental health awareness and well-being.