Stress is a feeling we all know too well. Defined by emotional and mental strain, it is our response to the demands and challenges of daily life, marked by tension and, at times, intense anxiety. Its familiarity feels especially pronounced in our present day world, with one pressure after another: a global pandemic, an ongoing climate crisis, and the constant hum of economic and social uncertainty. Stress exists in every hospital ward, every broken home, every school corridor, and every office. It is, quite simply, everywhere.

So why do we not talk about it more openly?

Superficial exchanges tend to mask real vulnerability. “How are you?” “I’m fine,” even when we are barely coping. Rather than engaging honestly, many of us reach for the same blanket response, assuming that since everyone seems stressed, our own stress is somehow unremarkable. We call it trivial, even as we are, collectively, struggling.

Stress is a natural and normal part of life, but in recent years that normalcy has shifted into something closer to resignation. People have become used to feeling stressed, almost expecting it, comfortable with the idea that stress is simply the reality of the world we live in. In that comfort, we can lose sight of the need to actually address it.

I found that comfort myself, without quite realising it, until a phone call with my older brother. His characteristically relaxed way of life was something I probably should have paid closer attention to before that conversation. In four words, “stress will kill you,” he said something that has stayed with me since. It moved me because it was true, true to who I was at the time. I had grown used to feeling stressed, sometimes letting it drive me, other times letting it stall me completely, believing all the while that I was in control. That conversation shifted my thinking for good.

You might expect something so common and so widely felt to be simple to understand, but it is, in fact, a matter of real complexity. Stress is subjective. Its intensity and impact are shaped entirely by the individual experiencing it. What stresses one person may barely register for another. Take a delayed flight: one passenger might feel their mood sour with frustration, while another shrugs it off and heads for the airport bar. The same applies to a traffic jam, where one driver grows increasingly agitated while another accepts what they cannot control and turns up the radio instead. We generally have more choice in our response than we tend to believe.

Stress can also be silent, a quiet build-up that we fail to notice because we associate stress with visible, outward reactions. We can be unaware of our own numbness to a situation, internalising and suppressing what we feel rather than letting it surface. This kind of stress can be particularly damaging, allowing itself to chip away at physical and mental health largely unnoticed. Chronic stress, similarly, is ongoing and prolonged, and can lead to serious health issues if left unaddressed, often presenting as chest pain, persistent nervousness, and irritability, with people typically attributing it to several overlapping causes. Acute stress, by contrast, is an immediate and intense reaction to a single, unexpected event, usually short-lived, such as the stress that follows criticism from a manager or an argument with a partner.

Not all stress is harmful. Eustress is a positive form of stress that can enhance performance and wellbeing, motivating us to rise to a challenge, whether that is a promotion at work or the decision to learn a new skill.

Recognising the degree of stress we are under can be difficult, since it often builds from a combination of small, everyday pressures rather than one obvious source. Minor stressors include the day to day inconveniences, misplaced keys, unexpected delays, a disagreement with a friend, while major stressors involve more significant losses, such as bereavement, divorce, chronic illness, or unemployment. Some stress stems from periods of genuine uncertainty or a felt loss of control, which can leave us feeling powerless. We also tend to relive stressful situations mentally, prompting the body to respond as though the event were happening again, which can hinder our ability to find peace in the present. At times, we generate our own stress by fixating on worst-case outcomes, something many of us have been especially prone to in recent years. Among young people particularly, stress often centres on body image and the pressure to meet unrealistic beauty standards, alongside the broader pressure to succeed and to define one’s purpose through achievement or income.

Whatever its source, the impact of stress can be lasting. Physically, prolonged stress is linked to increased risk of stroke, heart attack, and other serious illness. Appetite changes, whether overeating or undereating, are a common sign, alongside high blood pressure, headaches, and muscle tension. Emotionally, stress can leave us irritable, short-tempered, and quick to anger. Psychologically, it often shows up as excessive worry and rising anxiety. Behaviourally, it can appear as neglect of self-care, reliance on alcohol or drugs as a coping mechanism, or impulsive behaviour such as gambling or overspending. These signs are worth noting, in ourselves and in the people around us.

When it comes to managing stress, I do not believe there is a single cure, but rather a set of tools that make it easier to cope: regular exercise, journaling, digital detoxing, and meditation among them. Returning to simple hobbies, or trying something new, can help too. Being present, speaking kindly to yourself, looking after your health with consistency, and creating a degree of structure in an otherwise chaotic world can all make a genuine difference. The one thing we can always control is how we choose to respond to stress, and there is real power in deciding what you will allow to move you.

Mind Over Matter.

Disclaimer: This article is shared for general psychoeducational and informational purposes only. It does not constitute professional psychological, medical, or counselling advice, and is not a substitute for assessment, diagnosis, or treatment by a qualified mental health professional. If anything in this article raises concerns about your own wellbeing or that of someone you know, please reach out to a registered counsellor, psychologist, or your local emergency and crisis services. Where personal experiences are shared, names and identifying details have been omitted or changed to protect the privacy of those involved.