Everyone has their insecurities. Everyone has something about them that they wish they could change. I’m no different, there’s something about me I wish I didn’t have to deal with. My skin.
My skin is a daily struggle, it itches, it flakes and it peels. I don’t care if you think this is disgusting because this is my life and the life of around 2% of the population of the United Kingdom. I have psoriasis. I remember when I was first diagnosed around 3 years ago I hated it. My legs were red, burning and very unattractive. I had strangers asking me what was wrong with my legs and even people close to me turning their heads away because they couldn’t stand the sight of it. That’s when I started to hate it myself. I’d scratch my skin so much it bleed for days. I’d cover every part of my body where the psoriasis had taken over, which left me which pretty much just my head on display. I stopped wearing clothes I liked and I stopped going out as much, just so people wouldn’t see what I looked like.
I tried everything to get rid of it, I didn’t believe there wasn’t a cure. I mean, 3 years ago my skin was beautiful. I never scarred, I never got acne, and now, I explode with psoriasis spots and acne whenever I cut myself, or hurt myself, or even slightly bump myself. I’m not as confident as I use to be, I’m no where near the person I was before I was diagnosed.
And people have said to me: “yes but it’s not life threatening, so why complain?”
Let me explain something to you. Even though my diagnosis won’t kill me, it ruined my life. It made me too depressed to leave my house, it drove me to the point I screamed at my dermatologist to cut off my legs and arms. the amount of times I cried because my legs were in agony from where I’d scratched off the top layers of skin to stop the itching for just a moment. It never worked. Nothing ever worked. The light therapy, no. The first round of medication? No. The only thing that worked involved drowning my body in steroids and steroid ointments. And let me tell you, I felt amazing, even if I was overdosing myself on steroids which apparently you should never do… But hey, it cleared my skin for let’s say… About 3 weeks.
Now. 3 years later, and hundreds of different medication trials later, here I am. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to rip off my legs and arms. I can’t get all the tattoos I want because tattooists simply won’t come near me. I have side effects I wish I didn’t have to live with and all of this is just for something people take for granted everyday. Clear skin. I honestly wish I had it and I honestly would do anything for it.
I’m not the person I use to be, but I’m better than I was. I know longer care what people say about the scales on my legs. I’m not sorry my body isn’t beautiful for you, but it is to me. I love my body and all it’s many imperfections.
On the plus side, it’s like I say, at least now if I want to dress up as a Dalmatian for Halloween, my legs and arms don’t need any work. #Priorities