How many times have you heard the word "stress" this week or even just today? We talk about it so often, it almost becomes background noise - “I'm just stressed.” or ”This week has been stressful.” We use it casually and still stress lingers in lives through work, relationships and how (or whether) we care for ourselves.
But where did our understanding of stress even begin?
The concept of stress as a biological process first emerged almost a century ago, when Hans Selye observed a consistent pattern in how bodies respond to prolonged stress. He named it General Adaptation Syndrome (GAS) a three‑stage model - Alarm, Resistance and Exhaustion. Nearly a century later, that framework still matters. No, it doesn’t explains everything, but it gives us language to recognise what our bodies are going through.
Stage 1: Alarm
This is your body's initial reaction to a perceived threat. Whether real or imagined, physical or emotional, the brain senses danger and a responds quickly:
- Adrenaline surges
- Cortisol rises
- Muscles tense
- Heart rate accelerates
You’re in fight, flight or freeze mode. It's designed to protect you to help you run from the lion or tackle the emergency. But in life, the “lion”, the stressor, might be an overflowing inbox, a hard conversation you’re avoiding or financial uncertainty. And when it stays “on” for long that protection will begin to wear your system down. At this point grounding, slow breath and co-regulation (connecting with others) can help the nervous system settle.
Stage 2: Resistance
The stressor hasn’t gone away but your body is trying to adapt. You power through - meeting the deadline, getting on with your day and saying "I'm fine."
But under the surface, you are starting to feel the toll - as cortisol continues to climb sleep may be disrupted, irritability creeps in and anxiety likely to simmer.
This is where many people spend a long time - still showing up, still reliable, still exhausted. This is functioning under strain and… it's not sustainable.
Here, the most supportive tools might be setting up boundaries, realistic pacing, honest communication, nervous system regulation strategies and allowing yourself to pause.
Stage 3: Exhaustion
Your system has been on high alert for too long. Eventually, the system cracks, resources are depleted. You might notice fatigue, brain fog, mood dips, emotional numbness or overwhelm and physical illness as your immune system is reduced. This is biological burnout.
What’s needed here is support, nervous system repair, reconnection with self and others and rest.
Often I see clients at this stage into the therapy, but you don't need to wait for collapse to look for ways to care and maintain.
Stress doesn’t always look the same or follow a neat line
One of the things I find myself returning to often is just how varied and personal our experiences of stress can be. While Selye’s three-stage model still offers a helpful foundation, we now know this pattern doesn’t hold up as neatly across different lives, different histories, and different bodies.
Sometimes the stressor is loud and urgent - a crisis, a loss and other times, it’s a quieter, ongoing strain - holding too much for too long, caregiving without rest, trying to meet impossible expectations at work, in parenting, in appearance or in being "on top of it all." And for most of us, it’s not just one area. It’s the layering of relationships, finances, health, identity, caregiving. And let’s be honest, there’s been a collective weight with uncertainty, social change, burnout, economic pressure. That creates the chronic load.
Has life felt more stressful for most people over the past few years? In my experience, things feel more intense than ever but perhaps that’s just my stress talking.
Why stress might feel different for different people
Selye's model gave us a solid foundation, but modern perspectives show that stress might look different depending on your context and biology. A lifetime of influences shapes our response - trauma, neurodivergence, personality traits, environmental - sociological and systemic barriers and pressures, caregiving demands, money worries or ongoing life instability.
In essence, your nervous system is not reacting in a vacuum. It’s responding to everything you’ve lived and are living through. In short - your stress pattern may not be linear. This isn’t about measuring yourself against the textbook model but listening to your body, understating your pattern and what your capacity is today.
And What About Resilience?
If we’re talking about how we respond to stress, we can’t not talk about resilience. I know the word can sometimes feel overused or reduced into "just bounce back", but I believe it’s worth the attention here, especially as we’re zooming in on the weight stress places on our body.
Resilience is not fixed, it shifts over time, changes with circumstances and grows. I think that’s kind of brilliant! Because alongside things like rest, pacing, boundaries and regulation - resilience plays a huge part in how we ride the waves of stress, how we recover and how we relate to ourselves when we’re stretched thin. I absolutely love the way Stokholm Resilience Centre put it “having the capacity to persist in the face of change, to continue to develop with ever changing environment”
When we look through a neurodiversity-affirming lens, one large scoping review (176 studies) offered something powerful. It found that many neurodivergent people face heightened stress but they also often develop distinctive and meaningful forms of resilience. Not in spite of their differences, but sometimes because of them.
Coping like stimming, structured routines, sensory tools, or deep focus on special interests are seen, in fact, embodied strategies of regulation. They help manage overwhelm, bring stability and a sense of safety - and are critical part in resilience. The review also highlighted how identity affirmation, inclusive environments, meaningful and supportive relationships play a major role in strengthening resilience — showing that it’s not about gritting through struggle alone, but having systems that recognise and support difference
Still resilience isn’t a badge of honour to “keep going no matter what”. “I’m okay, I’m resilient.” can be a valid statement but it can also become a quiet pressure that we must always cope, always recover, always keep going. It isn’t something we draw from endlessly. It’s a tool, something to feed alongside of other strategies.
In Summary
Stress is part of life, but chronic stress doesn’t have to be.
Stress is a hardwired biological response and is essential in the short term.
Understanding the three stages gives us a framework to navigate it, regular self-check-ins and space for rest and recovery, we’re more able to prevent (or come back from) exhaustion.
So instead of asking - “Why am I not coping better?” Or defaulting to “I’m resilient I will be fine” let’s be curious and check:
- Where am I right now?
- What does my body and mind actually need?
- What has helped me before?
About the Author
