Touch

touch

It all started with touch. Yesterday, it was cool enough to wear my new gloves driving this morning. Soft and fleecy inside, the gloves slid over my fingers. Ah so nice. My hands warm and cozy gripped the steering wheel on the drive to work.

It started with my thumb. I felt an irritation at the tip then, down the side of my thumb. “Okay” I think, “I’m feeling the seam.” At the first light I adjust the tip of the glove over my thumb. I do the same at the second light. I still feel the irritation. I realize there is a little patch sewn into the tip for touch screens. I’m feeling the edge of the patch. Luckily this light is longer so I yank off the glove and put it back on, wiggling my fingers in my glove.

A few minutes later the irritation begins building again. This time it’s sending sparking little sensations up my arm. “Really?” I ask my body. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The third light turns red. “Thank God!” I say sincerely. I snatch off the gloves throwing them across the car like a gauntlet. Then I shout into the interior of car: “I so hate being the Princess and the Pea! I’m not five! I don’t want to be the princess!”

I know my phrasing doesn’t make sense except in my quirky frustrated state of mind. The irritations are a symptom of serotonin deficiency. Here’s the thing, when my serotonin levels get low all my senses start firing at full throttle with no filters. It is truly sensory overload. In this case it was my sense of touch that started the cycle spiraling out of control.

When I got to work, I had to shield my computer from light and wear headphones to drown out the chatter. I also realized I needed to take care of me to settle my body biochemically. Eat the right things, reduce stimulants, short walks, sunlight (small amounts), and focus on my work. I did the formula and I feel better today. What did I learn?

I thought about the little irritants we have in a day. Some are physical, some emotional, and some spiritual. Whether we acknowledge the irritation or not we have a reaction. The irritation rubs at us. It gets in our way. Reminding us it’s still there. It won’t leave us alone even if we ignore it.

In frustration I asked my God: “Just what in the world is the purpose of being irritated?” After a bit of prayer, my answer floated into my conscience mind:

If something is irritating you, you have to deal with it. It needs to be handled.

Simple huh. I respond, “Hmmm. But I would rather not deal with it. I want it to go away and leave me alone.” …Is that another chuckle I thought I heard?

I let this simmer on the back burner of my mind as I work. The thoughts running through my head make me realize: The pebble in my shoe makes me handle it by removing the pebble. Using my experiences (and very fine medical advice), I handled the chemical imbalance well. Then I moved on to the work needing to be done.

The root my irritation was not my glove. I need to figure what the irritation is trying to tell me. Then pray (because I can’t handle much without guidance), handle it, and move on. That’s all it is: an irritation. It’s not the end of the world. Scratch that itch and go! Because we have bigger goals to reach for!

So maybe I’ll remember to just remove the gloves when the car warms up and set them aside as I enjoy the ride. I’m sure the other drivers would rather not witness a spectacle at 6:30 am. It was just one little irritation on my thumb.

Take a sip of coffee Ms. Milly, relax and smile.

Milly

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