Making peace with the diagnosis. I can easily do that with the patience part. Even my 7 year old has called me out on that—yeah, that was embarrassing.
Practical is a bit harder to swallow, though. I always thought of myself as somewhat grounded. But the signs started surfacing a year ago when my husband decided he needed to sell his fun car for a commuter car. When the sales guy congratulated us and, seeing my hesitation, added “it’s a very practical car,” I broke out in hives. Literally.
And now that my beloved toy car is getting up there in age, hubs is again throwing that P word around. Lots of antihistamine being ingested!
Doing something about it. The patience part I’m working on. I know there are things I can control and others I can’t. I’m learning when to walk away and distract myself instead of hitting “send” or the verbal equivalent. I don’t always succeed but we've already established that I’m not perfect.
And I’ve even discovered the drug of choice to ease the twitching—a nice big cup of coffee (I know, sounds counterintuitive but for me it works, go figure).
As for practical, well, I’m not doing as well there. I made an attempt and wrote out a plus-minus list—a practical approach, right?—then proceeded to break into hives and ripped it into teeny, tiny pieces.
Baby steps, people, baby steps!