I read somewhere that hives and sweating were signs of recovering from topical steroid withdrawal. As I am finding myself developing hives on occasion and able to sweat more normally again, I sorely hope that that is the case and that this particular journey with eczema will soon be over.
But what does that even mean anymore? So much of my life has now been formed by eczema and going through topical steroid withdrawal that I can’t remember life without them as constant companions.
I dropped out of my clinical graduate program to avoid physical contact and other triggers to my skin, and instead went more towards the research-based side of academia, which derailed my initial streamlined plans.
I have seen all hours of the night as my skin raged: the itches of eczema and the topical steroid withdrawal heat flares and weeping skin. As a result I have learned to be flexible and take a good day at face value, to reflect.
I reconnected with and got married to a man more understanding about my skin and its flares than I thought capable which led to confidence about speaking up about my condition. And then had our magnificent little baby, which subsequently created an even more difficult paradigm for myself if the ambition was to return to the initial 9-5 job plans but caused me to find new passion (the postpartum period, library advocacy) and reignite old ones (writing, French, storytelling) which have started and continue to turn into new opportunities.
I poured hours and hours into self care and forgiveness and lifestyle alteration to be able to manage my condition and as a result became a calmer, happier person, though I also amassed a collection of products (and a product graveyard in my cabinets) and wasted money.
I developed a deep distrust for dermatologists and their lack of advice on the role of sustainable practices (such as nutrition/diet) and their quick fix mentalities. All I crave are conversations towards investigating correlations, and talking shop about safest management practices for the longterm.
I have learned the power of an anecdote, and how many kindhearted souls have advice to spare, showing the breadth of ways this condition is handled, but also that people care and want to help if they can. There still exists community.
Honestly, I’m not even sure what my identity would be if I am no longer plagued by this disease; it’s so much a part of me now it’s almost like having a second shadow lingering from constantly well-placed lighting.
And as a result I’ve developed into a completely different person these last 5 years, almost unrecognizable in demeanor and attitude from that healthy-skinned 22-year old.
I’ve had to learn to do things all over like figuring out how to exercise in ways that don’t trigger a flare, or how to manage symptoms when they are triggered by a social encounter, stress, or the weather. How to be okay with a body that is less than ideal and not as healthy as it was in the past.
Though I’ve had to give up a lot, I’ve grown from it and become a stronger, more introspective person who has had to work less hard to find others’ hidden untold stories. I’ve learned to be brave in my exposure, to hold my head up even when suffering, but also to acknowledge my own limits. I’ve learned to ask for help, and to accept it.
Who I am today is inexplicably linked to my experiences and in the last five years; I have been stained by this disease, this condition that requires so much sacrifice and change, but also so much empathy and strength.
As I stand back and reflect, I note that a quarter of my quarter of life has been influenced by eczema/TSW. A huge intractable part of me has worked to understand and accept this reality, and I will continue to do so, and see what happens next: what else I’ll learn and how else I’ll change.