I first remember seeing you when I was a little girl, you was with my grandad and I asked him who you was.
In time, it was soon a regular sight to see you with grandad, and then I started seeing you with my mum. Soon, you was with my mum every day, all hours of the day, and I would ask my mum why you wouldn't leave.
My grandad died when I was nine years old, just three days after my ninth birthday, and although I was too young to attend his funeral to say goodbye, I knew you was there with him.
I carried on seeing you with mum, and soon, just like how it was with grandad, there come a time when you'd never see mum without you.
It was around the age of 11 that I first see you on me, the tiniest little patch on my elbow making me itch away. I didn't think nothing of you, and soon you disappeared.
Every now and again, you would come back to my body, and take over a patch on my elbow, I didn't know why you was there and again didn't really fuss because you was so small.
We spent the next 12 years going through the same process, one minute you was there, the next you wasn't. When times did get bad, I would go to the doctors and would be given a number of creams to try and help you improve, some worked whilst others didn't.
It was around two years ago when you got extremely bad, always remaining on my elbows and on my head, I noticed very small patches of you on my hand. Nothing major, in fact very small, so small, you looked just like a tiny spot.
I don't know how, because I used cream after cream to try to stop you, but you grew, and you grew massively. Far bigger was your presence on my body then it was on my grandad's body or my mum's body. Keeping yourself on just their elbows and heads, that wasn't enough for you for me was it?
You very quickly took over my hands, covering every single knuckle and the surrounding areas. Maybe it never bothered me as much before because I was the only one who really see it, I wore long sleeved tops no matter the weather to cover you on my elbows, and luckily, my hair covered your patches on my head.
With my hands though, I have these out on show everywhere, I can hide them with gloves but they drive me, or rather you, insane, and can you imagine wearing them when it's not freezing cold!? Hurrh.
I get horrible stares because of you, I mean, why do I have such weird hands, what is that stuff and is it contagious is what people think, or so I imagine. Shop workers are scared to touch my hand, and people take a step further back because they're unsure of what you are.
If you didn't already have me feel at my lowest after taking over my hands, you decided to take things further didn't you? You've now invaded my feet, my toes, my knees, my arms, from head to toe you cover me, if I had just an ounce of confidence left, you knocked that all away from me.
I stopped doing my make up, and as for my hair, it gets bunged up every day. Why would I try to make myself look decent, when under my clothes, and even on show, you're every where, staring at me every time I look at the body I should love.
Not only are you the ugliest thing to look at, you also drive me crazy, you itch, you sting, you bleed and you irritate me nearly 24/7 including in my sleep! You leave massive flakes in my hair, and make it look like it's snowed on my shoulders.
You make me feel so low, the lowest of the low. I've stopped going out with friends and made excuses for blogging events, I couldn't imagine being in a pub or club with a room full of pretty people, and being the laughing stock of everyone's jokes, people don't know how to deal with these things, so sadly they try to joke and only cause more upset.
To add the icing on the cake, you've refused every cream and treatment the doctors could give me, so I was referred to the hospital where I started 30 sessions of treatment. I have to get naked in front of doctors and nurses and cause more humiliation to my already embarrassed self.
I have to stand in a machine that is potentially dangerous, three times a week covering my face with a visa to try and get rid of you. I'm never in the machine for long, but you're costing me time and money, two hours out of my day for each session is six lost hours a week. I'm not in the machine for two hours each time, or even at the hospital for that long, but I don't drive, so I have to rely on buses, which are never on time and cost a small fortune.
And then, to add the candle to the icing, you just love to see me upset so much, you decide that you're going to stick out the treatment these health care professionals are throwing at you. It's like the times I use to visit the sauna and steam room at the gym, I would hold on in there for as long as possible, and you are doing just the same.
Oh and talking about the gym, can you see how fat you've made me get? You make me feel so worthless, I just comfort eat. I blame everything on you, you've stole my body and I'd really kindly like it back.
I want to feel like a 24 year old woman, not an old lady too tired for time. I want to be out there, enjoying my life and not hiding away. I want to be able to show off my arms in the summer, and wear sandals too, I want to wear make up, without annoying the hell out of you.
I'll never be pretty but you make me ugly, and I just don't know why. Why is a treatment that's so effective for others failing for me? Why are you taking over every single part of my skin, why do you want my body so bad?
You're psoriasis and I'd like you to leave.
#WorldPsoriasisDay
#WorldPsoriasisDay
This is such a moving post Jada but written so well xxx
ReplyDeleteThank you Hayley, it means alot xx
DeleteOh honey you write so incredibly well. Always so moving. My Gran had this something awful and it was prompted by her husband, my Granddad's death. What emotional trauma can you think of that caused it to flare up? If the treatment that normally works, your 30 sessions on the NHS, are not working, then I would suggest going alternative. Either herbs (with a reputable Chinese Herbalist not a high-street one) or maybe a Homeopath.
ReplyDeleteI wish you well lovely lady.
x