“I’m stressed” is probably one of the most repeated and representative phrases of our time. And it’s no wonder, since, as the philosopher Byung-Chul Han says, we live in the burnout society.
However, stress has become a kind of universal explanation, a catch-all term that encompasses almost everything: tiredness, bad moods, irritability, lack of motivation, emotional disconnection, fear… If something doesn’t quite fit, if we feel exhausted, explode for no apparent reason, or are more irritable than usual, we attribute it to stress. And with that, in a way, we close the matter.
The problem is that this explanation, while convenient, is often incomplete.
Stress as an externalizing explanation
When we attribute everything (or almost everything that happens to us or that we feel) to stress, what we’re often doing is externalizing emotional responsibility. When we say we’re stressed because of work, obligations, or even a toxic relationship, we shift the focus outward, as if the discomfort were an inevitable consequence of external circumstances.
The root cause seems to lie in the schedule, the boss, the meetings, the lack of time… And yes, all of that contributes. There’s no doubt that we live in demanding environments, overloaded with stimuli, with enormous pressure to perform and a lack of real rest. However, stress is not so much the cause as the result. It’s more of a signal, a symptom of something happening beneath the surface, the expression of how our psychological system is managing (or failing to manage) what’s happening to us.
In that sense, I’m concerned about a phenomenon I’m noticing more and more: using stress as a label to simplify complexity and avoid looking inward. The problem is that in this way, we can temporarily eliminate stress, but the underlying unease remains unresolved and will resurface when the stress returns.
The brain under stress
Stress is fundamentally a neurophysiological response designed to prepare us to react quickly to threats. The release of cortisol and adrenaline is intended to push us to act, not to think.
When it persists chronically over time, it affects areas of the brain involved in emotional regulation and reflective thinking, especially the prefrontal cortex. This region is key to reinterpreting what we feel, putting it into perspective, and modulating impulsive responses.
When its functioning is compromised, we lose part of that “rational layer” that normally cushions the emotional impact of situations. Then, things we previously managed relatively well, such as fear, frustration, sadness, or insecurity, appear with greater intensity in our lives.
From the outside, we call it stress. But from the inside, it’s often a mix of emotions that were already there, waiting for the opportunity to express themselves. In practice, stress simply triggers the rational filter of self-regulation.
A simple way to understand this is to imagine that stress is like a corkscrew. When we’re feeling good, we use different emotional regulation mechanisms to maintain balance. In a way, these mechanisms act like a “plug” that helps us smile even when we don’t feel like it, or respond assertively even when we’re angry inside.
Stress removes that “plug” and allows all the emotional content to surface more forcefully. In fact, it’s no coincidence that many people describe it as an overwhelming state. This isn’t solely due to an excess of tasks or obligations, but rather to a loss of emotional control.
Under stable conditions, many of these emotions are kept in check or softened by our routines, social roles, and internal control mechanisms. But when the system is overloaded, this regulatory structure weakens. What emerges isn’t necessarily new; it’s probably something that already existed but that we had repressed inside. That’s why stress can feel so intense and confusing. It’s not just the current situation, but everything it brings to the surface in terms of emotional regulation.
The cost of not looking inward
The problem with using stress as the sole explanation is that it prevents us from refining our understanding of what’s happening to us. Resorting to stress as a universal label undermines emotional granularity. If everything is stress, we don’t need to ask ourselves what part of what we feel is related to fear of failure, a need for control, excessive self-criticism, or difficulties setting boundaries or resolving latent conflicts.
And without that introspective exploration, the solution is also simplified. We might convince ourselves that it will be enough to change jobs, delegate more tasks, disconnect for a few days, or end a relationship. And perhaps all of that is necessary to rebalance ourselves, but sometimes it doesn’t address the core of the problem.
Because if the underlying issue is a difficulty tolerating uncertainty or a tendency towards constant self-criticism, stress will reappear in another context. Therefore , we will spend much of our lives attributing to stress what is actually a more complex emotional problem whose solution…
Listen to the message of stress
Perhaps the key lies in not obsessing so much over stress and, instead of looking for ways to alleviate it, asking ourselves: “What is my internal system failing to control?” In this way, stress will no longer be so much an enemy to fight as an indicator of what is happening inside. It will be a sign that something in emotional regulation has become overwhelmed or insufficient.
Sometimes stress signals genuine exhaustion. Other times it reveals accumulated fear. Or a life governed too much by external expectations. Or perhaps a gradual disconnection from one’s own needs. There’s no single answer. Stress simply tells us that there’s a growing gap between what we experience and what we’re able to process internally.
Therefore, we must understand that stress is not the end of the story, but rather the point where our emotional system begins to speak louder and clearer. And if we listen a little more attentively, we can understand ourselves better, bring old emotional issues to light, and resolve them. Interestingly, when we do this, stress is likely to decrease as well, as a natural consequence.
Source:
Arnsten, A. (2009) Stress signalling pathways that impair prefrontal cortex structure and function. Nat Rev Neurosci; 10: 410–422.
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