You Are Not Alone

I was diagnosed with psoriasis for the first time when I was five years old. That was in 1963. Unfortunately, I was the only one in my family who had psoriasis and looked different from everyone else. My mother was the only person who was comfortably close to me and would care for me without making me funny or giving me strange expressions.

My psoriasis covered my whole body with patches of dark purple skin that keep growing. Sadly, my skin had a mind of its own, and didn’t know how to stop growing these layers of skin. I was constantly producing skin that became dry, cracked, itchy, painful, and unsightly. On top of that, it was always bleeding.

I felt so misunderstood

My scalp, face, legs, back, stomach, and under my feet were the areas most affected. I was over 80% covered. Imagine sitting on a chair and getting up and leaving most of your skin there. Scratching is all I could do. Can you imagine having your skin fall off due to an excess of skin production? This was not a happy time in my life.

During my adolescence, the condition made me resent going out to hang out with friends. Because every new person I met could point to my skin and ask what was wrong with it. I kept a small social circle of friends who understood what I was going through. Even my friends who still understood me used to make fun of me when we were out playing together.

They gave me names that I didn't find amusing at all. When I was approaching them, I could see friends and other people talking in hushed tones and pointing or peeking at me. People in my circle had no idea that I was crying on the inside.

Avoiding attention from others

To avoid drawing too much attention. I devised a method of concealing my skin from prying eyes by wearing long pullover sweaters. Instead of shorts, sweatpants were my only option all the time. This went on for decades.

There was a time when psoriasis had completely turned my life upside down. I wouldn’t go outside and look for a job because of the pain, and itchiness. This reduced me to an indoor person. As a result, I faced financial and social stress were my constant companions. While stress is a major cause of flare-ups, I couldn’t seem to avoid it.

I want to leave you with this. Get a good specialist that will help you. My doctors gave me creams, lotions, soaps, and pills for years. Overall, I never got better. Some of these things cause flare-ups that would fade and reappear more aggressively. Family and friends suggested things to use, but nothing worked. Long story short, I was covered in scales until I was 38 years old.

My final word to you. Be your own best advocate. Find a community that understands and get friends and family that you can communicate with. There is no cure for psoriasis, but we don’t have to suffer in silence. I wish people would recognize that psoriasis is not contagious and stop stigmatizing us.

Remember, we are all in this together.