So… Apparently Venti Means ‘Venti Emotions’ Too
So… Apparently Venti Means ‘Venti Emotions’ Too
So… Apparently Venti Means ‘Venti Emotions’ Too
"Journal Reflection: Stress, Coffee & My Tendency Toward Extremes"
"Journal Reflection: Stress, Coffee & My Tendency Toward Extremes"
April 17th hit me like a double shot of espresso—literally and figuratively.
What started as a normal workday quickly spiraled into what I now call a caffeine + cortisol crash. Too much stress. Too much coffee. Not enough awareness of the cocktail I was feeding my system.
By the end of the day, I was emotionally overstimulated, physically tense, and mentally spun out. I felt:
Overwhelmed
Disconnected from my inner compass
Emotionally hijacked by something I usually treat as a treat
As I reflected the next morning, I realized the real problem wasn’t just coffee. It was how quickly I turned against it—like it betrayed me. I found myself thinking:
“If something could be secretly harming my peace, I want to hate it and cut it out completely.”
That struck me.
What Was Really Happening?
My emotional reaction was protective. But it also reflected an all-or-nothing tendency I’m actively learning to soften. As I dug deeper, I started to see that my relationship with coffee was a metaphor for my relationship with anything that feels both supportive and potentially destabilizing.
Coffee wasn’t the enemy. My reaction to it was a messenger.
As Marcus Aurelius wrote:
"If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it—and this you have the power to revoke."
The Spiral: Coffee + Cortisol = React Mode
Here's what I learned about that dynamic:
When stress is already high, caffeine can push the nervous system into overdrive:
Racing thoughts
Jitteriness
Reduced focus
Lowered emotional resilience
Trouble making aligned decisions
It even messes with sleep (even if you don’t notice), which only fuels the cycle the next day.
From “Bad” to “Unaligned”
At first, I wanted to villainize coffee altogether—never again, I thought. But I caught myself.
I realized this wasn’t about coffee. It was about my tendency to cut out what feels unsafe rather than get curious about it.
Enter Gretchen Rubin’s work on Abstainers vs. Moderators and The Four Tendencies. I’m very likely an Abstainer (thrives on clear lines) and a Questioner (needs things to make sense). That combo means I:
Feel safer with firm boundaries
Can get overwhelmed by moderation
Am quick to question the value of anything that doesn't serve me instantly
Which is empowering—but also easy to let slide into extremism.
As Terry Pratchett wrote:
“Coffee is a way of stealing time which should by rights belong to your older self.”
Rewriting the Narrative
I decided to shift from thinking:
“Coffee betrayed me → I hate it → I must avoid it completely to feel safe”
To something more balanced:
“I felt betrayed by how coffee affected me in that state. That tells me it’s not a good partner during stress. But I can decide how to engage with it, on my own terms.”
This is now how I’m thinking about it:
Coffee isn’t my enemy
It’s just not my ally when I’m already maxed out
It can still be a ritual, not a crutch
I don’t want to fall into the trap of seeing things as “good or bad.” I’m working on reframing it to “aligned or unaligned.”
The New Story I’m Living
This moment taught me that I’m not “too intense” or “overreacting.” I’m someone who listens deeply to what my body and mind are telling me. I’m not extreme—I’m discerning.
“I act boldly to protect my peace. I just want to give myself space to pause before labeling something an enemy.”
That’s what wisdom looks like in real-time. And sometimes, it starts with a venti Starbucks coffee and ends in a personal philosophy.
Final Thought
This wasn’t the first time I noticed this inner pattern—but it was the first time I voiced it. And that alone felt like a huge step forward. Talking it through helped me find clarity, and surprisingly, a little bit of compassion—for myself, and for the things I tend to overcorrect around.
Sometimes, the path to a wiser relationship with your thoughts starts with the very things you’re tempted to cancel. Maybe the trick is learning to stay in the conversation, even when it’s uncomfortable.
April 17th hit me like a double shot of espresso—literally and figuratively.
What started as a normal workday quickly spiraled into what I now call a caffeine + cortisol crash. Too much stress. Too much coffee. Not enough awareness of the cocktail I was feeding my system.
By the end of the day, I was emotionally overstimulated, physically tense, and mentally spun out. I felt:
Overwhelmed
Disconnected from my inner compass
Emotionally hijacked by something I usually treat as a treat
As I reflected the next morning, I realized the real problem wasn’t just coffee. It was how quickly I turned against it—like it betrayed me. I found myself thinking:
“If something could be secretly harming my peace, I want to hate it and cut it out completely.”
That struck me.
What Was Really Happening?
My emotional reaction was protective. But it also reflected an all-or-nothing tendency I’m actively learning to soften. As I dug deeper, I started to see that my relationship with coffee was a metaphor for my relationship with anything that feels both supportive and potentially destabilizing.
Coffee wasn’t the enemy. My reaction to it was a messenger.
As Marcus Aurelius wrote:
"If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it—and this you have the power to revoke."
The Spiral: Coffee + Cortisol = React Mode
Here's what I learned about that dynamic:
When stress is already high, caffeine can push the nervous system into overdrive:
Racing thoughts
Jitteriness
Reduced focus
Lowered emotional resilience
Trouble making aligned decisions
It even messes with sleep (even if you don’t notice), which only fuels the cycle the next day.
From “Bad” to “Unaligned”
At first, I wanted to villainize coffee altogether—never again, I thought. But I caught myself.
I realized this wasn’t about coffee. It was about my tendency to cut out what feels unsafe rather than get curious about it.
Enter Gretchen Rubin’s work on Abstainers vs. Moderators and The Four Tendencies. I’m very likely an Abstainer (thrives on clear lines) and a Questioner (needs things to make sense). That combo means I:
Feel safer with firm boundaries
Can get overwhelmed by moderation
Am quick to question the value of anything that doesn't serve me instantly
Which is empowering—but also easy to let slide into extremism.
As Terry Pratchett wrote:
“Coffee is a way of stealing time which should by rights belong to your older self.”
Rewriting the Narrative
I decided to shift from thinking:
“Coffee betrayed me → I hate it → I must avoid it completely to feel safe”
To something more balanced:
“I felt betrayed by how coffee affected me in that state. That tells me it’s not a good partner during stress. But I can decide how to engage with it, on my own terms.”
This is now how I’m thinking about it:
Coffee isn’t my enemy
It’s just not my ally when I’m already maxed out
It can still be a ritual, not a crutch
I don’t want to fall into the trap of seeing things as “good or bad.” I’m working on reframing it to “aligned or unaligned.”
The New Story I’m Living
This moment taught me that I’m not “too intense” or “overreacting.” I’m someone who listens deeply to what my body and mind are telling me. I’m not extreme—I’m discerning.
“I act boldly to protect my peace. I just want to give myself space to pause before labeling something an enemy.”
That’s what wisdom looks like in real-time. And sometimes, it starts with a venti Starbucks coffee and ends in a personal philosophy.
Final Thought
This wasn’t the first time I noticed this inner pattern—but it was the first time I voiced it. And that alone felt like a huge step forward. Talking it through helped me find clarity, and surprisingly, a little bit of compassion—for myself, and for the things I tend to overcorrect around.
Sometimes, the path to a wiser relationship with your thoughts starts with the very things you’re tempted to cancel. Maybe the trick is learning to stay in the conversation, even when it’s uncomfortable.
© Framer Inc. 2023