Dear Stress. I don't want you in my life.

Dear Stress,

You try to help but you destroy.

I can't blame you because that's just the way you are. I don't have to invite you into my life and still I do. It's my own fault.

There's always so many things I want to do and so much to live up to, I reach out for you quite without thinking. It's become second nature. 

Still, I know we can't go on that way. You may fix our projects in time, but you break me in the process. 

Sometimes I think I'm addicted to you.

To the high pulse of a fast pace. 
Reaching for a goal with longer arms.
Pushing just a bit more, and a little bit more...

Addicted to punishing myself for needing rest.

You tell me it's possible and I listen. You may be deluded but it's a delusion I love. You whisper that if I just work harder, everything will be okay.

So I work with a beating heart and shallow breath. 

Together we fight the fight against time. 
Until we can't.

What is it you're scared of?

Is it failure? 

Or do you fear the long, empty minutes? The ones where thoughts catch up, when feelings surface and I ask what life really is? Do you fear the big questions? Life and death? Is that why you can't accept the limits of time?

Or are you really just the idea that my worth is what I produce? 

Ever reaching for more, for a better result, for faster. 
Never good enough. Never enough. Always grasping.

Behind that sharp, loud voice, there's desperation. I don't know if it's a longing for love and acceptance, or if it's a fear of never being the person I want to be. Or if it's just some kind of self-hate. I just know it's desperate.

I know that life is short. You don't have to remind me.

That's why we can't keep living the way we do. You can't be in charge of my life. Never. I need to be the one making the decisions, especially about time. 

Life is too short to rush through and forget to live. That's what you don't understand.

If I do the opposite of what you're screaming, will I then find balance?

When you push me to work faster, should I stop and work slower?
When you tell me that it needs to be done, should I change the deadline?

Why does the thought of that scare me so? 

How can you be so strong that slowing down becomes something frightening? I guess I've given you too much room to play with. I've respected you as an important force to get things done.

I'm scared that I need you. 

Without you, will I fall into procrastination and laziness? Will I ever make my dreams come true? Can I steer my life without you?

I'm scared. I love you and I hate you, but I know something. 

I can make it without you.

I've lived without you and I know that it's possible.

In slow moments, I've made beautiful things without you. I've lived in long minutes, been calm and happy. Things didn't fall apart without you.

It's just hard to keep you away for long, with a life that is more crowded than I'd like. It's a fight I have to fight every day.

It's as much a fight for balance as it's a fight between what I want and what I have to do. 

But you can never win. You can never be in charge. It's when you make the decisions, that's when the to-do-lists in my life ruin everything. That's when I can't handle not having the time I'd like for my dreams.

You try to fit too much into reality. You're a fantasy that tries to push itself into an every day life. It's impossible. 

I don't want you in my life.

You tell me that you'll go away if I work faster, but I know that's not true. It's one of your lies.

The more I feed you the stronger you get.

I'm sorry, but I'm choosing to step away from you. Whatever idea you have, I'll try to find another solution. 

I've realized that living without you is a choice, not another life. Time will always be a resource I'd like more of. You will always find something to scream about.

But I'm done feeding you. I'm choosing another way. Patience will be guiding me, instead of you. She knows reality like you never will. 

With love, 
Your scared little writer.