My stress levels are through the roof. So far through the roof, in fact, that they're up there dancing with the satellites à la Wal-E. My heart is beating too fast, my muscles are tightening around my bones and refusing to let go, my eyes are full of the crazy. There's no particular source to all this stress, it just seems to have accumulated like sediment, without ever washing away. One of my professional help-givers has warned me that, unless I find a way to evacuate my stress, it may build up to such an extent that I go beyond the usual "fight or flight" reaction to anxiety and straight into "freeze", or "play dead" mode. Apparently that would not be good.
So, off I went to look for some nice stress relief, and thought: "massage!" What better way to relax than with some aromatherapy candles, soft music, a gentle kneading of your the old achy muscles... Bliss...
But no, this is not how they do it in Switzerland. No candles, no music, nothing like that. Instead, I got pummeled into submission by a large Wagnerian woman who insisted on making me speak German the whole time, pulled me this way and that until my joints cracked and dug into my pain spots asking "Besser?" over and over again while I whimpered. Seriously. How can I be expected to relax in German?
All of this was not helped by the fact that I followed it up with a one-hour session (again, in German) with my personal trainer (catch-phrase: "Noch eine Mal" - hey buddy, if I could do "one more" I wouldn't be lying prone on the floor panting like a dog, now would I?) Waking up this morning, I could hardly move. I suspect there may be bruising. Or worse.
And now I have to go run 13km as part of my half-marathon training program. And because exercise is supposed to relieve stress.
Eventually, all this stress relief will land me in the hospital. Where I bet they have some very effective sedatives.
So I guess it will have worked after all...