Earlier this week, I attended a workshop at my daughter's high school with another mother (and good friend). The topic was helping teenagers handle stress. If you've been following "Lovin' the Alien" for the past few years, it will come as absolutely no surprise whatsoever that I left the program ...
STRESSED!
About 35 parents attended, mostly moms, as per usual. The woman who spoke — she was tall, thin and French, grrrrr — presented findings from the APA, the American Psychological Association. The rather disturbing results were part of a recent Stress in America study.
Our speaker was quick to point out that stress in and of itself is not necessarily bad. Stressors exist (oy vey, do they exist!), and our physiological, cognitive and behavioral reactions enable us to respond. Appropriately. Or not. (It's kind of like a more thoughtful version of the primitive "fight or flight" idea.) It's how we handle the stress, how we cope, that makes the difference.
Today's teens are under an inordinate amount of stress and their coping mechanisms are ... shall we say ... a wee bit underdeveloped.
In the study, teens were asked what they perceived to be a "healthy level of stress." They identified an average of 3.9 out of a 1-to-10 scale. But, when they were asked how much stress they were actually under, they averaged 5.8.
That's a lot of extra stress!
When asked about symptoms of stress, 74% of teens reported having experienced more than one of the following:
Feeling irritable or angry
Feeling nervous or anxious
Fatigue
Lying awake at night
Headaches
Feeling like they're about to cry
Feeling overwhelmed
Feeling depressed or sad
Changes in sleeping habits
Skipping meals
Upset stomach
Teenagers aren't typically great decision-makers; at least not where the concept of consequences comes in. So even though there are positive, productive things they might do to address stress, many choose exactly the opposite. For example, physical activity (doing calisthenics, taking a walk) relieves stress. But, more teens choose sedentary activities like video games, going online, and watching TV.
My own daughter is very bright; she certainly knows that vegging in front of Dance Moms isn't going to get her French essay written. Any relief an hour with Miss Abby and the Junior Elite Dance Team provides will be temporary at best. She knows it. And, I certainly know it. But, in the constant push-me/pull-you of parenting a teenager, we choose our battles. Pointing out that procrastination will only increase stress would be ... well ... stressful. Hella stressful!
What about suggesting yoga, meditation, mindfulness?
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
Pardon me. Okay. I can continue now.
All I can do is try to be aware, try to (quietly, gently, subtly) affect her attitude when I can. Try to model positive behavior and stress management.
Just keep going, I guess. That which doesn't kill us, makes us stronger. (Or makes us play video games and eat chocolate.) And I'll try to remember ...
"A diamond is just a piece of charcoal that handled stress exceptionally well."
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Having grown up in New York City, I'm used to crazies. On the sidewalks, on the subways. In delis and doorways. Some are angry. Most are harmless. All are really sad.
Greater Boston isn't immune to these characters. They panhandle at intersections and I slip them a couple of dollars when I can. I keep a roll of ones in my glove compartment just for this purpose — right next to my precious Sacred Heart of Blessed Jesus Auto League medallion, a gilded plastic premium item I once received in a direct mail fundraising package.
It can't hurt, right?
These encounters aren't confined to cities either. I spend an inordinate amount of my life in a Dunkin' Donuts on Boston's North Shore. It's about a mile from my teenage daughter's stable and has WiFi. I typically order a large hazelnut decaf with skim milk and nurse it for the hour and a half or so that my daughter needs for tacking, riding and untacking her horse, typing away on my laptop all the while. This particular "Dunks" attracts the usual suspects: high school students buying super sweet frozen Coolattas, young mothers breaking soft bagels into pieces for their toddlers. And, of course, a handful of crazies.
One older gentleman comes and sits with me sometimes. The restaurant has a half dozen or so tables for two. I'm only a single, obviously, and if the whole place were full and someone really needed a seat and the seat across from me was the only empty seat left in the entire place ... well, that makes sense. Right? But no, this dude comes and sits across from me when there's no one else sitting down at all. The first time it kind of freaked me out. Now, I just roll with it.
There's also a young woman who sits alone at the other end of the donut counter. We're maybe twenty, thirty feet apart. But, this doesn't stop her from talking to me ... FULL VOICE.
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M DOING THIS AFTERNOON?" she yelled to (at) me across the store the other day.
"Uh ... no," I shrugged with a friendly face.
"I'M GOING BOWLING! DO YOU KNOW WHY BOWLING IS THE BEST STRESS RELIEF THERE IS?"
"Uh ... no."
"BECAUSE YOU CAN PICTURE THE FACE OF THE PERSON YOU'RE MAD AT ON THE PINS BEFORE YOU KNOCK THEM DOWN."
Truth. Crazy, but ... truth.
So, here I am, the only sane person in the bunch. At least, that's what I tell myself. Until I take a closer look.
I'm usually in the middle of a hundred different things when my daughter shows up at my office door with that impatient "Mo-o-om, we're going to be late" 'tude, so it's rare that I arrive at the donut shop in what you might call a pulled together state. Often I'm still in yoga pants and a sweatshirt purloined from my husband. Chances are, I've thrown the work I need in a tote bag and have my arms full with laptop, cables, and mobile phone.
Have office, will travel. Welcome to the 21st century.
Once I acquire my tasty beverage, I tend to spread out at one of the tiny tables (unless, of course, my gentleman caller mentioned above happens to be there). But from then on, everything I do is perfectly rational. Absolutely normal. N-o-r-m-a-l. For example ...
I write advertising copy, and then read it (out loud) to make sure I've said what I think my client needs to say. It's very important to read aloud, you know. That's how you catch awkward phrases. The process itself isn't awkward at all. Especially in public.
If there's no agency work to be done, I go through back issues of The New Yorker, dissecting each magazine and creating piles: to read, to toss, to pass along. No one minds the tearing sounds, do they? And, the activity certainly doesn't resemble anything related to OCD, right?
Work or play, my behavior is completely apropos. And heaven forbid I use the time to actually relax. "Too much time, too little to do." Wait! Reverse that.
Of course, all of this busy work does lead to a certain amount of stress. But, that's okay.
I can always go bowling.
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