If you’ve got perfect skin, I hate you.

So, I have eczema. I’ve had it since I was a kid but in the past three years it’s gone from ‘mild irritation’ to ‘all-consuming, life-ruining, traumatic illness’. Which sucks.

People don’t seem to realise how bad something as simple as eczema can be. During the winter, it’s easy to ignore but as soon as the sun appears my body becomes an entirely more uncomfortable place to be. At the moment for example, every inch of me itches and it’s taking every ounce of willpower not to scratch the itch. Scratching causes swelling, rashes, scarring  but oh-so-sweet relief, if only for a second. I’ve been to several different doctors and specialists, none of whom seem to give a shit/know what they’re talking about/look at me as anything other than a hypochondriac. Last year my skin got so bad as the result of using a prescribed cream that I couldn’t move my joints and ended up in A & E where a slightly more knowledgeable doc gave me oral steroids.
See, that’s the other thing; the long term inplications of using oral and cream steroids. Underneath the make-up, my eyes are permanently red-ringed as a result of using Hydrocortisone. If I don’t, then my skin becomes unmanageable, unsightly and extremely irritating but if I do then I’m stuck with broken capilleries which make me look like I’ve lived a life of heroin and street-dwelling. Hello rock, Hello hard place. There are non-steroidal treatments but they are more costly and therefore no doctor I’ve ever seen will prescribe them because they’re told not to by the government.
The most disturbing thing is that as a result of using so much of the steroid cream to keep my eczema at bay, it’s become photosensitive which means that even five minutes in the sun leaves my skin looking and feeling horrendous for the next week or so. Sun makes it worse, sweating makes it worse, heat makes it worse, alcohol makes it worse, caffeine makes it worse, certain foods make it worse. It limits things. It means I often can’t wear pretty dresses like my friends or wear too much make-up because it either worsens the situation or makes it more obvious. These may sound like minor complaints but to a 26 year old woman who doesn’t have much confidence to begin with, it’s a very big deal.

If you know me well, you’ll probably already be aware of my eczema, if you know me a little you might wonder why this is the first time you’ve ever heard me complain about it. As far as social situations go, there’s still a stigma attached to skin conditions; they evoke reactions of disgust or trepidation. It’s not something I use as a conversation starter because I’m embarrassed about it, I wish I didn’t suffer from it and I want it to go away.

My Dad recently developed eczema and phoned me to apologise to me. He said he was sorry that he hadn’t taken my complaints and distress more seriously at the time and wished he’d been more sympathetic. It wasn’t until he experienced it himself that he realised just how much it can take over your life. The constant itching makes it impossible to concentrate on anything else and non-eczema-sufferers telling you to ‘stop scratching, you’ll make it worse’ just makes you want to punch something out of frustration. I’m still pinning my hopes on someone coming up with a cure or at least a better treatment, but I’m not holding my breath.

I hope none of you have a skin condition and I hope you never develop one but spare a thought for those of us that do, eh?

Stuff and things.

So, something occured to me the other day; I’ve been smoking on and off for more than half my life. That’s sorta scary.

Also, today is the first day of replacing sugar with sweetener in my tea. This could be interesting…..

My love for you is true….A tattoo

….that ain’t ever coming off.

So, I got a new tattoo before Christmas. It was the biggest, took the longest to do and is the most meaningful piece of ink I’ve ever had done. A few people have asked me what the writing means so to set the record straight, it’s Italian and it simply means ‘New Start’. I’d had my mind set on it ever since moving to Canterbury because that, for me, was my new start. It turned out that due to the last 6 months of 2008 treating me like shit, it had a dual meaning. Seeing out the old, shitty year and welcoming the new, more promising one.

The list of problems I had goes on and on but to give a brief overview of the main ones; a friend of mine passed away and in the same week a friend of Matt’s also passed away; both of them in their twenties and both under tragic circumstances.  Our car then crapped out and we couldn’t afford a new one so it meant surviving without any transport for a while. My parents went on holiday and had their villa burgled. They lost a considerably amount of money but the real kicker was having my Mum’s camera stolen which contained all the pictures of their 5 month old kitten who was run over and killed a week after they got back. Towards the tail end of the year myself and Matt suffered out first real relationship crisis which I won’t go into but working through it will be a slow process for me.

I’m sure you can see why I was happy for the year to come to an end! Anyway, with the help of my friend and tattooist, the design really came together and after 5 hours it was on my skin for good. I’m hoping that it’ll inspire my more optimistic side whenever I see it

This was my original design:

This is the rough version that my tattooist came up with:

This is how it looked immediately after being done:

Suffice to say that I’m really fucking happy with the way it turned out. I’ll work on getting a decent photo of it now that it’s healed.

-Sarah.

Wah-wah-wah….

Why is it that I am always compelled to blog the minute I start to feel depressed? Does writing things down, sorry typing things, really help? Who knows…..

I’ll apologise in advance for the mess of words that will no doubt follow. For some reason the things that whirl around my head are profound and garrulous and when they tumble forth from my fingers onto the page in front of me they’re, well, still garrulous but infinitely less important and quite nonsensical sometimes. That’s just the way my brain works I guess.

Anyway, here are a few things that I feel inclined to burden you with; 2009 is off to a rocky start. It’s not been awful but it hasn’t been wonderful either. Firstly, I kinda forgot about NYE and didn’t realise that it was even the new year until my Dad came in the room to remind me, interrupting my initial viewing of The Dark Knight in the process (not that my enjoyment of the film was hampered by that, I’m just trying to set the mood….). That doesn’t make it a bad start, it’s just kind of……apathetic.
Secondly, as soon as myself and Matt arrived on home turf in Canterbury, he ate some disagreeable takeaway and came down with a gruesome sickness virus, which he then kindly passed on to me. That was a fun way to spend a week.
Last weekend was spent celebrating two friends’ birthdays on consecutive nights which was simultaneously fantastic and horrible. It was fantastic because I got to see lots of people that I now consider great friends and drink and generally be merry but I also spent a small fortune, so you can see the dilemma.
Anyway, I shan’t bitch and moan about how crappy everything is because at the end of the day, the business is (surprisingly) still ticking over, my cat still loves me and I have a wardrobe full of pretty dresses. What more could a girl want? Well, a size 10 figure and Jay Baruchel locked in a cupboard for the purposes of cheering me up and making me go ‘awwww’ whenever necessary would be quite nice but I suppose I can’t have everything!

Anyway, to answer my previous question, I have no idea why typing things onto a pretty insignificant little blog helps but it does. I don’t feel quite as frightful as I did ten minutes ago. Now, I’m off to do the unthinkable and join a gym before I change my mind and eat the positively gargantuan chocolate bar that’s been giving me the eye since Christmas!

-Sarah.