Venting time.

Last night didn't seem real. I slept two hours. Haarlem threw up and had a horrible upset stomach ALL night. He had to go outside three times. He didn't finally lay down until around 4am. My eyes didn't shut until around 4:30. I was shaking I was so aggravated. Insomnia is absolutely one of the worst parts about this skin process.
So you're saying I have to have hot red burning flaking tight dry itching embarrassing skin AND I can't even get a break at the end of the day and just fall asleep? I can't recuperate from a long day of working, yoga, taking care of my finicky dogs all the while trying not to scratch my annoying skin? Unbelievable. I know I shouldn't get so angry but just knowing that a Doctor basically did this to me really pisses me off. It's the kind of thing that really chaps my ass, you know? ( I never get to use that saying, hehe. )

I go to you, (the Doc) because I have a small dry patch of skin and you IMMEDIATELY prescribe me steroid cream? No questions asked. This cream will fix any rash on the skin basically. Oh but wait, a few months later I have the same small patch on my neck, what now? MORE STEROIDS!!!! Hm, you don't think this magical cream might be making it spread?! Nahhh, you advise me to continue to use it EVEN ON MY PRECIOUS FACE.

So towards the end, I started telling Doctors I don't want to use steroids. I would like to heal it naturally, maybe get some advice instead. Boy, the looks I got were priceless. It's like the Doctor was thinking..."Well what do you expect?  You want me to give you some nutrition tips, tell you some good vitamins for your skin and good hygiene habits for someone with sensitive skin? Where's the money in that? That's no fun for me. Then you would never come back to me for a steroid shot or more cream." 

I have seriously considered writing letters to all the doctors I have been to and giving them a piece of my mind. Also referring them to ITSAN.ORG for some real advice.

Five months of my life, down the drain in flakes of skin and blood and ooze. Five months, just wasted away on sleepless nights crying into my pillow that's covered in a towel. 150 days spent hiding out avoiding public at almost all costs. 3,600 hours in misery, just pure torture. Almost half a year so far spent in pain trying to have a positive attitude and come out on the other side stronger; yet every time I feel like I might have healed a bit or gotten stronger I fall back two steps. Every fucking time. I'm sure I have another six or so months left of this "life". It doesn't really feel like living like I want though, I'm just existing.

I want to be able to wake up and wear whatever I want. I don't want to spend my first thirty minutes of every day tending to my skin and looking at myself in the mirror with disgust. I want to be able to make plans and stick with them because my skin won't change drastically by the next day. I want to teach yoga. I want to volunteer at the Rec Center. I want to go see Gio at work, then have brunch with my girlfriends. I want to swim in the ocean in a bikini. I want to wear tank tops ANY day I want. I want to put on make up if I feel like it. I want to sleep great and wake up feeling rested.

And I shall, soon enough.
Until then I'll continue to vent, cry, laugh about it, learn more about it and myself, try to rest and heal and I'll continue to grow stronger.

...until then.

 One day shy of five months.

One day shy of five months.