Listen up, Stress! You’re not going to bully me anymore. I’m officially standing up to your big ugly, mean face from here on out you are not the boss of me!
We used to be best friends. We used to live in commensalism at least. Neither of us loved each other, nor hurt each other. We used to tolerate each other, like siblings. But as we grew older, you turned out to be a real bitch.
You started to nag me like a mother. “Do this, do that. Don’t do that, don’t have too much fun. You need to get your work done, you can focus on enjoying your life later, later, like when you graduate retire die. Excuse me? Did you say die? I can relax when I’m dead?
Then you started to control me, like I was a dog on your tight leash. You showed me off like a trophy of your accomplishments, while I suffered on the inside from being overworked and overwhelmed. “Look how successful Kaehla is! Look at her accomplishments! Who cares what she went through to get there, if she got there? She’s going to be something great some day, on my terms. Don’t worry Kaehla, one day your leash will be studded with diamonds!” You belittled me, shamed me.
Well, the end of us was when you turned psycho, Stress. You became so clingy that I felt suffocated. The anxiety growing in me was like you impregnated me with a demon child. Commensalism turned into parasitism. You sucked the soul and natural liveliness right out of me, like a dementor form Harry Potter. To what end? What were you trying to attain? I became a slave to you, stress, locked in my dorm of self-deprivation and Easy Mac.
I stopped feeling pretty. I felt sick. I realized I was sick of your bullshit, Stress. I was too young to be manipulated like this. I wanted to feel playful once more. So guess what, Stress? I’m changing the way we play this game to see how much I can handle before I break. You better watch out.
I’m better off without you breathing down my neck when I do things my way. I know you’re still there in my life, but never again am I going to put you in charge. I’m standing up to bullying, so you can’t ruin my life anymore.
We’re better off as acquaintances. Not friends, just acquaintances. The kind to wave to each other in the halls and smile, but not strike up a conversation, without awkwardness. The kind to reach underneath the stall to pass toilet paper to each other when we’re panicking that our stall ran out. The kind to compliment each other and wish each other luck on our successes without getting too involved.
I wish you could be like that with everyone, to be honest. You look a lot better when you’re not beating people down. Just because you can’t ruin my life anymore, doesn’t mean you have to ruin someone else’s.
