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i have a little patch of eczema on my right forearm, a little splotch of discolored skin.

at some point we treated it like an infection, and it proceeded to get pretty gross, but one day i read something about NOT treating it like an infection--so i covered it in heavy-duty hydrocortisone and a giant bandage, and yay, holy healing powers, batman!


it's disgusting, but that little patch of skin is like a freaking mood ring. you can tell how i feel about life by the length of my sleeves/presence of a giant bandage because i scratch the hell out of my arm in my sleep when i am suffering.

as a child, i had eczema issues so horrific i wore long sleeves and long pants in all weathers (in so cal!) until high school, when things subsided enough that i could be naughty and occasionally flash a calf or a forearm. that alone makes me infinitely less self-conscious about this little patch, but sometimes it's so painfully raw i have no choice but to cover it.

today it is about 80% discoloration and 20% rawness, so i think it inversely reflects my state of mind about work. but i'm so in denial sometimes i wonder if my arm would have to fall off to make me just hold up my (remaining) hand to say, "ENOUGH IS ENOUGH."



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