I have eczema, I think. No - allergies. Well maybe it's just the dry weather. No no, it's something I ate. It's my gut health. It must be my dog that I am low-key allergic to. Maybe it's the lotion I use, the shampoo I use, the laundry detergent, my perfume, the fabrics I wear, the environment I work in, the environment I live in, the air I fucking breathe.
This is me, everyday, scratching my head over what the fuck I am doing wrong that makes my body react the way it does.
How is my body reacting, you ask? My back gets so dry it feels like sandpaper. My eyelids are so scaly, I could pass as a fish. A ring of painfully red skin circles my dry, cracked lips. My neck, chest, shoulders, arms, legs, and even my fucking ASS are covered in red splotches, scratch marks that some would think means I like it freaky. No. I'm not a self mutilator for the fun of it, I'm a self mutilator because my body is constantly attacking itself and I have taught myself to release endorphins when I give in to the desire to engage with these attacks.
I can't stop myself sometimes. In my head I can imagine how much worse it is going to look if I scratch at it but I keep going. I keep at it until I see the blood and I know I've really gone too far. My skin then raises up high and shines a crimson red glow. No turning back. I either scratch at it to feel the temporary pleasure, or I sit miserably in my cheetah skin.
I've had eczema since I was a baby. My poor mother had to discover this by means of a blood-curdling scream I let out during a routine bath night. The Johnson & Johnson soap may have smelled like lavender, but it felt like acid. As a child I had my episodes. They'd come and go. I'd take an oatmeal bath and then lie on the couch while my dad gently rubbed my back. From my memory, these episodes didn't last very long. I dealt with it. I grew up knowing another episode was always around the corner.
As an adult, I had my occasional episodes, still. I couldn't be around my roommate's cats for too long, and I had to lather myself in Aveeno lotion at least 3 times a day. It was manageable, though. Looking back at photos, my face was glowing, my skin was smooth and my eyes were bright.
Fast foward to 2015. I had just rented my first place by myself. It was the upstairs unit of a small house. It had slanted ceilings and a steep wood staircase in the color blue. I was so happy to finally be independent. It was winter. The house stayed warm. I stayed in to save money and I didn't mind it because it was so cozy.
As the winter progressed, my skin started to become a lot drier and itchier than before. I found out the lady who lived in the apartment before me had 4 cats. 4! The unit had carpet and you could tell it had not been changed out in a long time. So I blamed my skin's discomfort on that. I avoided sitting on the carpet and even had my landlord shampoo them.
The problem persisted. As a child my face never really saw the eczema. It was always behind my knees or in the creases of my arms and my neck. Suddenly, I was waking up to red circles around my eyes. I would wash my face and lather on lotion and the red, dark circles would remain the same. I would take Benadryl and apply steroid ointments and the dark circles would remain the same. Around this time I was a vegetarian. I was consuming a lot of soy products. I freaked out! I was certain that I had a soy allergy! I had to change to dairy and meat products again. I did so. The dark circles remained the same. I dated a guy with a cat. but he eventually broke my heart. The dark circles remained the same.
I spent my days trying to figure out what was causing these rashes. I started to become very anxious from it. I couldn't relax. I was constantly in pain and discomfort AND I didn't know what was causing it.
I saw my doctor. He put me on prednisone. The rashes cleared up. I took selfies again. I loved getting ready in the morning again. I loved not having to wear make up. But that didn't last. After the medicines wore out, it came back and every time stronger than the time before. I had reached a point where my entire torso was covered in painful red hives. My body was bloated from the steroids, my skin felt like I had rolled around in fiberglass. I have a picture of myself in this state and even thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. I've never seen myself so miserable. I could not wish this type of misery on my worst enemy.
It was time I saw a specialist. My mother took me to National Jewish Hospital. The day of my appointment was a particularly miserable day for me. I cried when they drew my blood. I cried in the waiting room. I cried when the doctor was examining my rashes. Although I had professionals all around me, I felt hopeless. I made the mistake of telling the doctor I wanted to die. I watched my mother's eyes tear up as the words came out of my mouth. I didn't want to suffer anymore. They took this very seriously and told me that they would hold me under suicide watch if I was serious.
Of course I wasn't serious! I wanted to live! I want to live. I want to enjoy my journey here while it lasts. I want to see who I become, see how I transform, see how I love and and how I grow. But... the unknown, the inability to blame anything or anyone for my condition made me turn on myself, it made me turn off my hope. I was damaged, I was defective. I couldn't be fixed. All I could do was manage it the best that I could.
I followed the doctors orders and began wet wrap treatments at home with steroid ointments. The rashes cleared up. I managed it. But that's all I did... managed it. I simply didn't let it get as bad as it once was but it never went away for good.
For too long I have relied on treating the problem. I'm always waiting for the next episode to show up. I lather on some ointment, heat up the eye mask, and sit on my hands until the itching fades away. Then I'll have a clear-day and I'll carry on like the episode never happened. It's time I change that. It's time I learn to prevent these episodes from happening. It's time that I stop being stubborn, thinking I can live like everyone else. My body has special needs and it is time I recognize that and for once and for all answer to those needs.
If you're reading this and you can relate in anyway, I hope it is nice to know you are not alone. I am going to dedicate my time to figuring out WTF is wrong with my skin and I am going to share my journey with you.
Sincerely,
F
This is me, everyday, scratching my head over what the fuck I am doing wrong that makes my body react the way it does.
How is my body reacting, you ask? My back gets so dry it feels like sandpaper. My eyelids are so scaly, I could pass as a fish. A ring of painfully red skin circles my dry, cracked lips. My neck, chest, shoulders, arms, legs, and even my fucking ASS are covered in red splotches, scratch marks that some would think means I like it freaky. No. I'm not a self mutilator for the fun of it, I'm a self mutilator because my body is constantly attacking itself and I have taught myself to release endorphins when I give in to the desire to engage with these attacks.
I can't stop myself sometimes. In my head I can imagine how much worse it is going to look if I scratch at it but I keep going. I keep at it until I see the blood and I know I've really gone too far. My skin then raises up high and shines a crimson red glow. No turning back. I either scratch at it to feel the temporary pleasure, or I sit miserably in my cheetah skin.
I've had eczema since I was a baby. My poor mother had to discover this by means of a blood-curdling scream I let out during a routine bath night. The Johnson & Johnson soap may have smelled like lavender, but it felt like acid. As a child I had my episodes. They'd come and go. I'd take an oatmeal bath and then lie on the couch while my dad gently rubbed my back. From my memory, these episodes didn't last very long. I dealt with it. I grew up knowing another episode was always around the corner.
As an adult, I had my occasional episodes, still. I couldn't be around my roommate's cats for too long, and I had to lather myself in Aveeno lotion at least 3 times a day. It was manageable, though. Looking back at photos, my face was glowing, my skin was smooth and my eyes were bright.
Fast foward to 2015. I had just rented my first place by myself. It was the upstairs unit of a small house. It had slanted ceilings and a steep wood staircase in the color blue. I was so happy to finally be independent. It was winter. The house stayed warm. I stayed in to save money and I didn't mind it because it was so cozy.
As the winter progressed, my skin started to become a lot drier and itchier than before. I found out the lady who lived in the apartment before me had 4 cats. 4! The unit had carpet and you could tell it had not been changed out in a long time. So I blamed my skin's discomfort on that. I avoided sitting on the carpet and even had my landlord shampoo them.
The problem persisted. As a child my face never really saw the eczema. It was always behind my knees or in the creases of my arms and my neck. Suddenly, I was waking up to red circles around my eyes. I would wash my face and lather on lotion and the red, dark circles would remain the same. I would take Benadryl and apply steroid ointments and the dark circles would remain the same. Around this time I was a vegetarian. I was consuming a lot of soy products. I freaked out! I was certain that I had a soy allergy! I had to change to dairy and meat products again. I did so. The dark circles remained the same. I dated a guy with a cat. but he eventually broke my heart. The dark circles remained the same.
I spent my days trying to figure out what was causing these rashes. I started to become very anxious from it. I couldn't relax. I was constantly in pain and discomfort AND I didn't know what was causing it.
I saw my doctor. He put me on prednisone. The rashes cleared up. I took selfies again. I loved getting ready in the morning again. I loved not having to wear make up. But that didn't last. After the medicines wore out, it came back and every time stronger than the time before. I had reached a point where my entire torso was covered in painful red hives. My body was bloated from the steroids, my skin felt like I had rolled around in fiberglass. I have a picture of myself in this state and even thinking about it brings tears to my eyes. I've never seen myself so miserable. I could not wish this type of misery on my worst enemy.
It was time I saw a specialist. My mother took me to National Jewish Hospital. The day of my appointment was a particularly miserable day for me. I cried when they drew my blood. I cried in the waiting room. I cried when the doctor was examining my rashes. Although I had professionals all around me, I felt hopeless. I made the mistake of telling the doctor I wanted to die. I watched my mother's eyes tear up as the words came out of my mouth. I didn't want to suffer anymore. They took this very seriously and told me that they would hold me under suicide watch if I was serious.
Of course I wasn't serious! I wanted to live! I want to live. I want to enjoy my journey here while it lasts. I want to see who I become, see how I transform, see how I love and and how I grow. But... the unknown, the inability to blame anything or anyone for my condition made me turn on myself, it made me turn off my hope. I was damaged, I was defective. I couldn't be fixed. All I could do was manage it the best that I could.
I followed the doctors orders and began wet wrap treatments at home with steroid ointments. The rashes cleared up. I managed it. But that's all I did... managed it. I simply didn't let it get as bad as it once was but it never went away for good.
For too long I have relied on treating the problem. I'm always waiting for the next episode to show up. I lather on some ointment, heat up the eye mask, and sit on my hands until the itching fades away. Then I'll have a clear-day and I'll carry on like the episode never happened. It's time I change that. It's time I learn to prevent these episodes from happening. It's time that I stop being stubborn, thinking I can live like everyone else. My body has special needs and it is time I recognize that and for once and for all answer to those needs.
If you're reading this and you can relate in anyway, I hope it is nice to know you are not alone. I am going to dedicate my time to figuring out WTF is wrong with my skin and I am going to share my journey with you.
Sincerely,
F
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