Knowing What to Do is Different from Doing It

So how come, when I get under stress, I completely shut down? And why do I let myself get so stressed any way?

I know that this blog is called "Musings on Creativity," but today, it's going to be "Musings on Stress."

Stress sucks. And, at least in my case, is completely self-induced. It's not like I'm a doctor or anything. My best friend tells me that I really need to work on those little voices in my head that tell me that I'm not doing a very good job of things. And this week, she wasn't the only one telling me that I "seem to put a lot of pressure on myself." (I'm probably paraphrasing there...I don't really feel like looking up the direct quote there. I think it would set off those lovely stress hormones raging through my body again.)

Stress is hard on my creative urges--I just sit there paralyzed, unable to cope with life, much less creative projects. And stress will probably kill me. I'm scared to take a "stress test" that lovely thing that checks how bad your heart is. I think if I did, I'd actually have a heart attack. Unfortunatley, heart disease runs in my family. If I don't learn to cope soon, I'm worried that I'll wind up like my dad.

I am attempting to cope. I had my blood pressure checked the other day. It was fine. Really fine. No where close to high. And I've gotten a serene noise generator, hoping that that will help me sleep. I have a habit of waking up at 3 am. I've fallen into the habit of turning on my tv, attempting to let the news lull me back to sleep. But it's been taking me until 5 or so to drop off again. I am sooooo not getting enough rest.

Last night, when I had sworn to myself that if I woke up at 3, I'd listen to "ocean waves and bird noises" to go back to sleep, the local tornado alarms sounded at 3:40 or so. Looooovely. So of course, I had to turn on my tv to follow the local weather. I probably would have been up a long time, but it sure didn't help that I was cowering in the bathroom downstairs. It's not the inner-most room of my house, but I figured it was safer than the way-too-stuffed-for-comfort- closet under the stairs.

So wish me luck with the stress and the sleep thing. ;D