It’s 2am and my mind slowly blinks into consciousness. It’s been happening a lot lately, this early hours waking. I fought against it initially, lying still, closing my eyes, hoping that I would slide back into oblivion and that this was just a one-off.
Sometimes this works and I catch a thread of a thought which wisps into a dream. For the past few weeks it hasn’t, and I’ve found myself getting out of bed to read for a few hours before I either fall back asleep (yay, weekends) or get to work (boo, weekdays).
You might think I’m stressed, and I am, but in a different and positive way.
You might also be confused when I tell you why I’m stressed, or perhaps outraged at the triviality of my concerns, given the current polycrisis.
A few days ago, I released my first book into the wide world, watching it flee away from my grasp and control. I’ve wanted to write books since I was a wee bub, and was enraptured, ever since I first strung a few words together to make a poem. Word + word + word = meaning felt like magic.
The process to publication since then has been long and arduous, and involved a drift away from this dream for decades, as I pursued postgraduate studies in psychology.
While being published has felt glorious, amazing, miraculous (and all those other adjectives), it also reminded me about the importance of acknowledging eustress, or positive stress.
When we think about stress, we often think of the difficult – a divorce, a work-life balance tipping towards work, a sick family member, moving house. These are the things we know and readily identify as stressful.
We often ignore the stress caused by positive events, such as ticking off goals, planning holidays or weddings, having a baby, buying a house, or events such as book launches – things we want desperately.
We are caught unawares when we feel flat after these events or get sick. I reliably become unwell after something emotionally intense and have now learned to schedule it into my diary and planning; my body responding to the coursing adrenaline of a book launch, and crash after, in the same manner as it would the adrenaline of something far less pleasant.
Eustress is a difficult wave to surf.
While distress brings thoughts, emotions and bodily sensations which are congruent with our expectations (ie that the event will be difficult and painful), the sensations eustress brings can catch us completely unaware and conflict with our imagined reality. Most of us who have done advanced postgraduate study have encountered this experience upon submission of a thesis or capstone project.
When I submitted my doctoral thesis, I expected jubilation, excitement and celebration. While there were elements of all these things, I also experienced a deep weariness and sadness. I felt exhausted (understandable) and bereft without my thesis to focus on (less understandable, hadn’t this been the goal all along?).
During the book launch process I’ve swung from wildly jubilant, to suddenly anxious, to tired, and back to jubilance.
The day before official release day, I went out for lunch with my publisher and suddenly started crying. Until then, I’d adopted the “control what I can, let go of the rest, and sales are not a me-problem” motto. Unexpectedly, that day I was flooded with worry. Would my book sell at all or would it sink without a trace? Would anyone even care? Would my wonderful publisher think this had been a giant waste of her time? I sat with these worries slowly twisting into a knot, until our celebratory lunch, at which point these worries burst out of me and I cried into my latte, apologising for my sudden gush of emotion.
My publisher was reassuring, as I expected, and realistic, telling me that no one could predict sales but that regardless of commercial success or lack thereof, she would always think it was a worthwhile project. Through the mirror of her acceptance, I slowly settled back into calm. I (re)learned a valuable lesson – having support is important, co-regulation is key, and we all want to be accepted regardless of success. Ironically, lessons I incorporated into my book, but promptly forgot to apply to myself at this time.
I noticed other odd signs, some of them bodily. A complete lack of hunger, an inability to sleep and, the day after my launch party, a body so tired and sore that it felt like I had been in a fight. Other signs were perhaps more predictable; some anxiety, much joy, tears, a sense of loss, pride. While these were expected, the sudden swings between these poles were not, and I was discombobulated. Luckily, I both recognise and accept eustress and have many psychologist and writer friends who supported me through this, ensuring that I did not add dismay and guilt about my emotions to my emotional repertoire. We often layer emotional experiences with some version of “I shouldn’t feel this way”, which never helps.
“Eat a banana,” a writer friend urged. I did, chasing it with a couple of shots of Greek yoghurt. I don’t quite know that it added much to gut health, but it did make me feel like I was caring for myself kindly and compassionately, just as I so often care for others.
Managing this time has involved a return to the basics.
Eating well, managing alcohol use (no more launch champagne!), staying hydrated, staying connected, moving, resting, and accepting and talking about my feelings. Simple steps, but essential as it turns out, whether for distress or eustress.
Author Dr Ahona Guha a clinical and forensic psychologist