There's nothing quite like the comfort of knowing that you're not losing your mind. Or if you are, that you're not the only one.
I remember feeling this relief last year while doing research for a book. I'd come across the yearly survey from the American Psychological Association that "measures attitudes and perceptions of stress among the general public." According to the report, women report higher levels of stress than men, as well as higher rates of stress than previous generations. As I reviewed the data, I saw my life laid bare via percentages, graphs, and color-coded pie charts.
As an author, pastor's wife, and mother to three active kids, my day has very little margin. I regularly feel overwhelmed, overworked, and underappreciated. My husband, on the other hand, seems to move effortlessly through his day. The difference is most obvious at bedtime. He lays his head on the pillow and drifts off to sleep; I toss and turn, worrying about all the things I failed to do. I calculate the number of calories I've consumed, try to remember whether I emailed my editor back, and wonder if the rash on my 10-year-old's chest is simply a reaction to seasonal allergies. No use waiting until morning; I get up to google it.