Learning to Accept and Manage Eczema

I have seen dermatologists on and off for most of life. From what I recall, every time I would go to the doctor, I would be asked, “How long have you had eczema for?” I often met this question with a blank stare, thinking really? My succinct, matter-of-fact response was simply, “My whole life.”

My skin fluctuates between calm periods and flare-ups. I have learned that my skin’s inflammation is tied to the stressors in my life, the amount of sleep I get, the level of humidity in the air, the food I eat, how much exercise I get, whether I feel connected and loved or not, and more recently, the supplements that I take.

I distinctly remember being plagued by eczema throughout my childhood, with one or more of my fingers always inflamed and leaving my skin so dry that it would crack open and bleed. These flare-ups I frequently tried to cover up with a band-aid, and they caused me to often try to hide my hands in embarrassment. I also got rashes behind my knees in the summer, aggravated by the heat and humidity; but this was nothing compared to the persistent cracked skin on my hands that caused me endless embarrassment and shame. These unsightly, itchy flare-ups persisted through the years despite countless visits to the pediatrician and dermatologists, and despite the regular use of various cortisone ointments and creams.

From what I remember, though I could have simply been paranoid, rumors were spread in school that I was diseased and contagious. In my memory, kids would gasp and point when they saw my unsightly hands. Even a few teachers nervously kept their distance. I weakly replied to anyone who would listen that it was eczema, a genetic dry skin condition, and it was not contagious.

I was ashamed of my skin, which deepened my larger sense of shame for who I was and my unkempt, seemingly poverty-stricken state. It took me years, decades even, to unravel the fact that my siblings and I had not, in reality, been poor; rather, we were children of extremely intelligent but poorly socialized parents, one a workaholic who put his ambition and career ahead of his family, and the other a stay-at-home mom who likely had undiagnosed high-functioning autism.

The state of my skin only aggravated and deepened my larger sense of shame and sense of unworthiness. It served to me as yet more proof that I was not worthy, that I would never be good enough; my hair was too curly and unruly, my eyebrows too big, my parents were too poor, and my skin was defective.

For years I harbored anger and resentment toward my dad, blaming him for passing on defective genes to me. It was his fault I had to live with such an embarrassing — and painful — condition, I thought, and I resented this immensely. Yet somehow I knew it wasn’t anything he’d intentionally passed on to me, for though I would mope to him about my eczema and me feeling cursed for my skin’s sensitivity, I never outright blamed him to his face.

Over the years I became accustomed to having eczema, but my shame and aggravation over having this condition continued. I learned to avoid materials like wool, which irritated my skin, and to moisturize regularly. I began using a humidifier to help combat the dryness of the air, especially in winters, and I took oatmeal baths on occasion to help calm my skin. I also became vegan in high school, for other reasons than my eczema, but it seemed to help minimize my flare-ups. Yet my eczema never completely went away.

In high school, determined to put aside my preoccupation with my skin, I decided to pursue my interest in pottery. My senior year, I eagerly went to a pottery studio almost every day after classes, where I would lose myself in making large sculptures and pots. My hands suffered, but I was too busy and focused on my artistic creations to care. Even now, despite the perils to my skin that working with clay caused, I look back fondly and nostalgically on those days of intense artistic absorption. Likely, the soothing and centering activity of working with clay was enough to offset its drying effects on my skin. Likely, also, the clay contained minerals that helped my skin, even while it also dried it.

My skin continued to plague me through college, though luckily during those years it was mostly only my hands that suffered. I stopped being vegan my second year of undergraduate studies, and my hands seemed only slightly more prone to flare-ups. I had my tendency toward eczema under control, or so it seemed. For awhile.

Unfortunately, true to typical college traditions, I began partying and taking care of myself less, which further aggravated my skin. My drinking escalated the year after college, and I began getting dry patches I had never before experienced. On one occasion, I was sure that I had contracted ringworm. On the side of my stomach was a raised, reddish circle. Panicked, I went to the drugstore, where I showed a pharmacist; he looked at my skin dubiously and said it didn’t look exactly like ringworm. All the same, he found me an anti-fungal cream and advised me to see a doctor if the rash didn’t improve or disappear in a few days.

Sure enough, my skin soon became more enflamed. I promptly booked an appointment at the doctor’s office; and the doctor quickly determined what my red circle was. “Hmm,” he murmured. “Interesting. What you have there is nummular eczema. It simply means eczema that occurs in a circle. Usually, it occurs more in elderly populations.”

Huh. Was I taking care of myself that badly? He prescribed me a strong topical steroid, a more potent formula than the kind I’d been using for my usual eczema flare-ups. The “ringworm” patch soon faded and eventually went away entirely, though my skin remains slightly discolored there, having less pigmentation where eczema once was.

While the topical steroid worked in this case, I soon realized that I was becoming too dependent on using these medicated creams on my hands. My skin seemed to be thinning there; alarmed, I learned with further research that long-term use of topical steroids does indeed cause the skin to become weaker and thinner.

With further research, I learned of Elidel, a brand of topical immuno-modulator cream that suppresses the immune system where eczema flare-ups occur. As eczema is often a result of an over-active immune system, the cream works to calm down the flare-up by suppressing the immune response, and it is recommended for people whose skin does not respond to topical cortisone creams or who want an alternative without the harsh side effects of cortisone creams.

Again, I went to the doctor about my skin, insisting that I be prescribed Elidel. “Unfortunately, it’s under patent, so you’ll have to pay $70 out of pocket.”

Yikes. But what could I do — I agreed.

The new cream seemed to help me, though I also occasionally got secondary infections when I used it, as a lowered immune system makes your skin — especially dry, cracked skin — more susceptible to viruses and bacteria. So I no longer use Elidel regularly either.

Soon my eczema began flaring up again, inching up my arms and clustering with angry, itchy patches around my ankles. I decided to seek the help of an acupuncturist. Having never visited an acupuncturist before, I was slightly taken aback by the entire experience, and continued to feel slightly discomfited by it during my second two visits. While I am still on the fence about the actual pins and needles of acupuncture, I am grateful for the insights my acupuncturist offered.

We went over my lifestyle, dietary and health habits. She advised me to use non-soap cleansers, which I try to do, and to eliminate wheat and/or dairy from my diet. I continue to consume both, but I do so much more sparingly than in the past. Though I have not cut out wheat, dairy, or meat entirely, I have drastically minimized how much I consume these types of foods as well as processed foods in general. I have learned to skew more toward a plant-based diet, one rich in nuts and seeds, to help minimize inflammation and help promote healthy skin and overall good health. I also decided that I would seriously moderate my drinking, roughly when I was 32 years old. And this decision is probably what has helped my skin the most. My only explanation for why I didn’t cut down on drinking sooner is that old habits are hard to break.

My acupuncturist also prescribed me Chinese medicinal herbs, which I could never entirely stomach. “They taste a little gross, right?” she asked me. “We — Americans — aren’t used to bitterness,” she explained. That didn’t make it any easier, though, to stomach the herbs. I snuck honey into my Chinese herbal tea, but I still haven’t managed to finish it. (Really, I plan to one day.)

Finally, my acupuncturist also suggested several supplements to take: Vitamin B-Complex (which can ease stress and therefore prevent the urge to itch), turmeric (an anti-inflammatory, surprisingly available in pill form), flaxseed oil (for skin health, but aren’t Omega-3’s good for everything?), and Vitamin E (also for skin health). Additionally, I decided to take Açaí supplements (dubbed an “antioxidant superfood”) and probiotics (which help suppress “bad” bacteria and strengthen the immune system). While I’m not always consistent with taking them, the supplements seem to help. Even if there’s a placebo effect happening, at least it’s happening.

I still have topical cortisone and Elidel creams that I use in case of a flare-up, but I have focused on preventing the flare-ups, eating well, staying hydrated, avoiding liquor and large quantities of dairy and wheat, minimizing stress, and keeping both moisturizer and anti-itch creams handy. In short, I’ve learned to take on a holistic, preventative approach. Eczema is something I will always have, but I have learned to minimize its appearance as well as its effect on my life. I have learned as well that eczema itself is not the problem, even; it is a symptom of not living a healthy, balanced life. By living a healthier, more well-balanced, and happier life, by taking care of myself, I am able to mostly keep the eczema at bay. I have learned as well that cannabis and mushrooms (both psychoactive and non-psychoactive mushrooms) are tremendous tools in helping the body to heal and to maintain health and wellness. And thank you to all of these tools, to learning to heal and love myself, to healing through plant and medicine, I am able to stay well.

References:

Carhart-Harris, R. L. & Goodwin, G. M. (2017). The Therapeutic Potential of Psychedelic Drugs: Past, Present and Future. Neuropsychopharmacology, https://doi.org/10.1038/npp.2017.84.

Esposito, Lisa. (January 27, 2017). Magic mushrooms as mental health treatment. U.S. News & World Report. https://health.usnews.com/wellness/articles/2017-01-27/magic-mushrooms-as-mental-health-treatment?src=usn_tw

Isokauppila, Tero. (March 14, 2019). The healing power of mushrooms [video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZnGwFblXpA&ab_channel=TalksatGoogle

Lake, Ricki & Epstein, Abby. (2018). Weed The People [video]. https://www.weedthepeoplemovie.com/

Maroon, J., Bost, J. (April 26, 2018). Review of the neurological benefits of phytocannabinoids. 9:91. Retrieved from: http://surgicalneurologyint.com/surgicalint-articles/review-of-the-neurological-benefits-of-phytocannabinoids/

Pollan, M. (2018). How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression, and Transcendence. https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/529343/how-to-change-your-mind-by-michael-pollan/

Powell, Martin. (June 6, 2018). Why all mushrooms are magic [video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fITifKJwZZc&ab_channel=BrightonNaturalHealthCentre

Reddiger, Jeffrey, M.D. (2020). Cured: The Life-Changing Science of Spontaneous Healing. Flatiron Books: New York. https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250193209

Shahzad, F., Anderson, D., & Najafzadeh, M. (2020). The anti-viral, anti-inflammatory effects of natural medicinal herbs and mushrooms and SARS-CoV-2 Infection. Nutrients, 12(9), 2573. https://doi.org/10.3390/nu12092573

Studerus, E., Krometer, M., Hasler, E. et al. (2010). “Acute, subacute and long-term subjective effects of psilocybin in healthy humans: a pooled analysis of experimental studies.” Journal of Psychopharmacology. 25: 11, 1434–1452. https://doi.org/10.1177/0269881110382466

Like my writing? Become a Medium member today and have unlimited access to articles by Olivia Love and all other writers published on this platform.