In all our eczema blogs you will notice we speak about eczema as ‘A BATTLE‘ and that sometimes you don’t always win the fight, but you can win the WAR ON ECZEMA.
This eczema blog sent in by one of our followers, a 17 Year old who has suffered from birth with extreme eczema. In this heartfelt blog, you can see the struggle they have gone through, but as the title suggests there is light at the end of the tunnel. The endpoint in our journey with eczema may not always be the destination we hoped, but we can always turn the situation in our favour.
We hope you enjoy this eczema blog and please feel free to show the writer and eczema sufferer –eorahv some love in the comment section.
Eczema is it just a word?
Just the pronunciation of the word itself makes me feel uncomfortable, anxious and emotional. The memories of pain, heat, stress, and dirt make me cry instantly. In this article, I would like to share my experience with eczema. Not only because it will be a great relief, but because there were some dangers which I would never ever want anyone to experience.
Four weeks after my birth
I was diagnosed with severe eczema. It was a visitor which would never leave my life without footprints. My mom used to put socks on my hands and tie them with hair ties on my arms, so I wouldn’t scratch my existence away. I would cry the whole night long, to fall asleep at 5’o clock in the morning and to wake up at 9’ o clock. I kept my parents awake and consumed their energy, as I was quite helpless and hopeless being. The burden I had put on them, would, later on, consume me. If I was suffering, why were they condemned to suffer with me?
Being a toddler, I was aware of the pain but I would not think about my physical appearance. The way eczema influenced me, was foremost as great anxiety. I would cry everywhere, just not at home. The only person who was able to silence my cries was my mother. I could not be comforted, even my father could not. Going to kindergarten was a huge hell, as I am a very sensitive and emotional person.
The combination of that sensitivity with eczema would make me want to stay home forever. As soon as I saw the building of the kindergarten, I would cry and throw up and make a huge drama. Just to escape all the feelings and children and unfamiliarity of circumstances.
Then came primary school
This would be the beginning of the darkest years of my life. At school, I saw how children were playing recklessly. I had this friend at the age of four, who had left me for someone else. Of course, I started asking myself what was wrong with me. Why was I being rejected? Then I saw what was wrong with me. I was suffering from eczema.
I started to exclude myself, knowing that I was different from other kids. I was convinced that having fun was something destined for them, and kept asking myself: “Why me?” Why was I inferior? Why was I destined to carry this burden of not belonging to them? All friendships felt like they were doing me a huge favor.
It still feels that way, now I’m at the very age of seventeen.
Poetry became my way out of this suffering.
I could write stupid poems about the things I liked, but as I got older, the poems lost their innocence. The suffering made me destroy everything beautiful I had. Negativity had entered my life.
This happened just for one reason. At the age of seven, my parents decided to tour around the country to find dermatologists. Living in the Netherlands, a small country, dermatologists are not as developed as they could be. Every single doctor would tell me, at the age of seven, that eczema will never go away. It would always stay a part of my life, so I had to cope with it. They did not know what they had done to me. They stole my hope.
I remember a lot. One memory (8 years old) is a bit traumatic. I had scratched my skin, blood was coming out from everywhere. So I took a huge towel, wrapped myself in it to stop the bleeding and I laid down on the floor. Then this thought came up: If I have to live like this, I don’t want to live. (I stopped expressing my pain to my parents at the age of five, out of guilt) As a last hope, I asked God, why can’t you just help me? As things don’t work like that in life, God did not respond.
So I took this ‘fault’ of me for my own responsibility because I had the feeling that God cannot be non-existent. At that moment a little spark of hope came up in my heart. Maybe if I learn from all these feelings, if I can survive, maybe I could just help other people. Just to keep hope.
That kept me alive. It really did. Then a period of time passed in which I denied a lot of pain. I have no regrets because otherwise, I would doubt my will to live.
My behavior did not change at school
We moved to another city and that place was even worse. I excluded myself so bad, that I told my teachers that I could not bear the pain of the sun, or the cold would hurt my skin, so I could stay inside, alone, when all of the children were playing outside. I used to read to escape from my pain.
At the age of eleven, I switched schools again. This place was a horrid place. Horrible feelings came haunting me. Then I started meditating. From origin, I am a Hindu, so meditation was quite normal in my family. I started using it as a way to escape. But instead, I came closer to myself. Too close.
I discovered after five years (16 yrs) what I had done
I was always trying to kill this sensing part of me. It was a very early-integrated self-image. When I changed this image, I started to take every feeling to heart and I took a week to care for every feeling. I solved, and still am, solving all my feelings. If you don’t believe in this kind of stuff, I would recommend just to take care of your feelings. Learn to accept yourself as you are and don’t let eczema take over. Don’t make it so powerful. Believe in your strength and mindpower. You got this.
-eorahv, 17 yrs
I’m sure you’ll agree this is a very brave thing to do write an eczema blog, writing and sharing your experiences dealing with eczema is hard but helpful to others, THANK YOU Eorahv.
It really can help, not just others but yourself to overcome the feelings and memories eczema can bring. Talking and sharing them will help start the healing process.
We have had so many comments from eczema sufferers who have shared their own experiences tell us how much it helped them to talk to people who have gone through similar battles with eczema.
If you would like to share your own experience please get intouch. You don’t have to be a great writer to write good eczema blogs. My writing and English is terrible but I think it shows that our message and stories come from the heart.
Simply write from the heart your feelings and it will help others going through similar battles.
Carl & Lindsey @oureczemastory