Layers ...

20 May 2012

Mood: Unknown

How fast time flies by, it’s been a week since I did not want to face myself in the mirror or even have any part of myself exposed.  The way my skin was made me want to simply crawl into a hole and simply just stay there until the end of time. Even when I think about it now, I don’t know if I wanted to hide from myself or to hide myself so people wont have to see me.

I felt like a monster. It was as if, when people saw me they would turn the other way, I guess I feared that everyone that saw me would just turn away. But I really shouldn’t have even had that ounce of thought in me, to even give myself the moment of doubt in the people who loved me.

There is no way words can really explain what it was like, just that it was flakey – and underneath the dead skin that was waiting to fall off was another waiting. It was like a never-ending process of shedding skin. It felt like there were layers and layers of thick skin around me, to the extent it was like I could not feel anything.

Now, a week later it’s recovering. It may not be shedding as much as it was last week but I can have the sense of touch again. With new skin now, I guess I’m glad that it seems the upcoming week seems to not be too sunny, as I cannot have anything exposed to the sun.

I have taken on the advice from my Doctor to not put any cream on, though it is hard when you step out of the shower or wake up. That horrid feeling of your skin being so tight that it is limiting you from stretching – but this seems to be working slowly. It’s just another process I need to pass and then I’ll be another step closer to having better skin.

The only thing that does get me worried is, what if the dryness does not go away considering winter is coming up and it is when we are all most in need to maintain moisturised.  I guess I’ll ask him the question on Wednesday when I go back in for another check up.

My mind is in a better place this week. I felt like a walking dead corpse last week, simply just waking and getting out of bed because I had to. Then at every opportunity I got, my eyes just had to close in hopes to recharge. My hands holding tight to stop the shakes, even my speciality of talking seemed to be of much effort. It sounds like an exaggeration, but it was seriously as if I had to breathe out my words – the effort and strength it took to simply talk.

This week, I see people and I’m simply feeling much more energised. I feel like myself again.

But at night, I get the sense of frustration, of confusion, of uncertainty. There is a huge pain in my chest, it’s like it tightens and just makes me feel frustrated. I don’t know how to properly explain it, and I don’t know what I’m so frustrated about. The tugging feeling in the chest comes and goes, but my mind and body may have simply been in no state of thought. I’m just confused why I can be frustrated when I have nothing that is even bothering me.

Then I’ll get little twitching feelings, as if there are little ants biting me from within. That I’m guessing is usually because my skin is dry and it’s just waiting for me to add cream to loosen up the tight feeling.

My layers are shedding, another past leaving me piece by piece. Layer by layer.

A past in which I will not forget, but glad it’s gone. A new part of me being created as each day passes me by.

Learning new things about myself every day, I am excited.

The first step ...

14 May 2012

Mood: Neutral

There was always a fear, but having so many years of luxury of having recovered from my eczema – I did not realise it had existed within me. However, for the past month a lot has crossed my mind.

The thoughts of the past, came flooding in one by one from to seeing a naturopath to seeing multiple Chinese herbalists to seeing a fair few dermatologists and getting allergy tests before being recommended to one  dermatologist that had finally put water to the burning flame within me.

After being on cortisone for three years, my eczema had been held at bay. My weight however had gained sufficiently due to the effects of the medication. I have to this day been off cortisone for about five years.

But through this horrid autumn, it has come back. This unknown fear has surfaced me for the last few days; I do not want it to be back. Little had I expected that having the luxury of having good skin would make me feel like I wished I never had those five years at all, to know what it was like to be good.

Today, I start this blog for myself. This has also been a big regret for the last few days that I had not done this previously, as my memory has failed me. Failed to remember the horrid pain I had felt, only remembering what I had been through. This blog however, is to mark my journey to recovery. Also, to remind me – if life ever throws lemons at me, no lemons could ever sting me as much as this. I can always look back and think, I have had worse and this is nothing.

As it has been about thirteen years since my eczema had first flared up, I believe my mind has matured – my thoughts and views on certain things have also changed. I am more willing to try things in order to see where it can lead. Though, I may still hold a reserve on some things – but I believe I have opened my mind more.

I have begun to see a Chinese herbalist again, and I simply laugh at the memory, which flooded my mind. My uncle and aunt chased me around the house holding a bamboo stick threatening me to drink that horrid black medicine. But sadly, their good will had come to no avail; I had still refused profusely to take that liquid. But now, I look at the black liquid with an open mind, and simply pour it down my throat washing it with water.

Then I’m reminded of the baths I had to take, once even having to wash myself with boiled Chinese herbs. I don’t remember how bad the sting was, all I remember was sitting in the bath tub with tears rolling down my eyes, and shower time was something I had dreaded dearly every day.

It seems that as days pass by, as much as it is to my regret that I forget the pain. I am reminded of events, events in which I am glad that I have the people that were around me. The people who love me dearly and even if I had no strength to carry on myself, they were there to offer me theirs.

They say; a mother’s love is the greatest love of all. I believe that, not only do I believe it, I swear by it. I actually don’t even think saying that one sentence can ever justify how strong it is.  There is nothing that can ever repay the love and attention I have received from both my parents, let alone to repay all the other aunts and uncles in which have helped me along the way.

I know both my parents look and worry, but then I also know a part of them wish this is something that had happened to themselves rather than see me in pain. I beg to differ, if only they know that as their child to see them in pain, I too would wish the same.

However, this is what makes me who I am. This is what has made me who I am.