It was in one of my psychology classes when I realized how abnormal I was.

We were discussing the stress associated with different professions. To no surprise, my desired job was categorized as "high-stress." When my professor asked my class who wanted to go into a high-stress profession, I immediately raised my hand. As I looked around, I noticed I was the only one.

In my career, my life will be at risk, other people's lives will be at risk and the state of the nation will be at risk. No pressure, right? I actually thrive on the stress associated with this profession. High risk, high reward. I get excited just thinking about my future as adrenaline pumps through my veins.

Whenever I tell people my plans, of which I will not disclose in this article, they look at me with fear and concern for my mental health. I know by accepting this position, I will be signing my death sentence. I don't care. As long as I am helping people, it will be worth it.

This desire to be in high-stress situations is coupled with me being a workaholic and pushing myself past my limits. I'm not going to lie, I have gotten to the point where I felt like I couldn't handle my excessive and tedious workload. The feeling is further exaggerated by my fear of giving up. I always manage to get past this doubt, but the fact it exists shows me my insanity.

Who knows, maybe I actually am insane. Isn't there a saying, that people study psychology so they can see what is wrong with themselves?

I understand that constant stress is dangerous but I feel obsolete without it. Stress gives me motivation to succeed, even though sometimes it hinders my sanity. It is a paradox that I will never fully comprehend. I will admit, I am insane; but it is that insanity that makes me feel alive.