let’s talk about what’s actually ruining your life.

not your vape.

not the 17 tabs of shein you swear you’re “just browsing.”

not the doomscrolling spiral you fall into every night.

those are symptoms.

i want to talk about the root.

the feeling quietly sitting in the background, pulling all the strings.

her name is stress.

we hear about stress like it’s a buzzword.

"don’t stress!"

"try yoga."

but stress isn’t always loud.

it doesn’t always show up as panic attacks or breakdowns.

sometimes it shows up as subtle shifts inside your body, ones you don’t even notice until they’ve completely reshaped you.

you’re not sleeping right.

your energy feels like it’s running on fumes.

your hormones? chaos.

your appetite? confusing.

your patience? gone.

and the wild part?

your body doesn’t scream.

it whispers.

gently. patiently.

until it can’t anymore.

until you look in the mirror and realize something’s… off.

you feel foggy. your hair is thinner. your weight is changing. your smile feels unfamiliar.

so you book that doctor’s appointment. you say,

"i don’t know what’s wrong, but something is."

if you’re lucky, you get someone who listens.

maybe it’s your cortisol. maybe your b12 is low.

maybe your body’s been flipping somersaults just trying to keep up with the weight of it all.

and here’s the thing —

it’s not your fault.

stress doesn’t shout.

it seeps.

it embeds itself into your habits, your cravings, your coping.

and suddenly, you’re chasing dopamine like it’s oxygen — in your vape, your cart, your feed.

but this isn’t the kind of stress that melts away after a weekend trip or a long bath.

it’s chronic. systemic.

and if left unchecked, it rewires the very foundation of how your body functions.

my stress got so loud that nothing felt good anymore.

not because my life wasn’t good —

but because my body couldn’t feel it.

your body isn’t the enemy.

it’s your biggest ally, trying so hard to love you, to carry you, to adapt.

but it can only hold out for so long.

so maybe it's time.

to pause.

to look inward.

to ask: what am i really running from?

what pain have i pushed so far down that i’ve forgotten how to name it?

because healing doesn’t start when the symptoms show up.

it starts the moment you finally listen.