
I have been enjoying skating again, very much. I fell yesterday, “Toe pick!” but if you ever watched the film “The Cutting Edge,” you know that sure, falling is never fun, but if you are already in motion, you end up sliding on the ice after you go down, which actually disperses some of the impact. So, I didn’t break anything, just a bruise or 2. #worththeriskevenwithosteoporosis.

Having hEDS means my skin is highly sensitive. “This increased sensitivity is a recognized, though not always emphasized, symptom that can manifest as pain, discomfort, or an exaggerated reaction to light, touch, or textures.” —Google. I used to think my sensitivity was one of my slightly neurodivergent traits, but it is nice to know it’s not just “all in my head.” Honestly, it almost always takes me more than one try to put on a pair of shoes, because if I don’t get the seam of my sock just right, then it will bug me to distraction.
Also, I do not have very thick skin, literally and figuratively. Literally, my skin is quite thin and translucent in certain areas, back of the hands, top of my feet, inside of my arms, so that all my veins are highly visible. Figuratively, because I am very sensitive to criticism and feeling as though I may not be believed, especially when it comes to whether something “hurts” or not. Pain is very individual and subjective, but sadly, not being believed by doctors does happen to a certain amount of patients. And my mom, who has a very high pain tolerance and forgoes freezing at the dentist for a filling, is fond of saying, “It doesn’t hurt, you only think it does.” I have to remind her she is the exception, not the rule, and I was NOT gifted with that particular high tolerance gene.
Interestingly, having a public blog actually opens me up to criticism, but I love this narrative space despite the risk. I try to be a nice person, word my posts in a manner to reflect my true nature as someone who is open to all sides of an argument, and not one to be judgmental. I am more interested in learning new things, not in trying to change anyone’s mind. But regardless, not everyone is going to like me, or what I have to say. I’ve often thought it is only a matter of time until someone out in cyberspace calls me a drama queen, especially now that I have been complaining (but actually intending to simply validate myself, not necessarily complain) about recently diagnoses and “issues with my tissues.” BUT! Thankfully, in the 15 years I’ve had this small little blog, (started in 2011 first for my creative writing, then expanded in 2019 to include my dieting health journey), I have never received a negative comment. Personally, I really love the WordPress community, and I am grateful for people who post regularly, and even those that don’t. I love people who share their stories.
I cover all this personal back story because I found myself yesterday, on February 9, taking a picture of the remaining pink circle on my chest. Sunday night, I felt a faint burning sensation in 2 of the spots that started as hives 3 weeks ago, but nothing was visible to the naked eye. Then yesterday morning, the burning sensation was gone, but the other 3 spots were still itchy. One of them was pink, so I took a picture. I am still experiencing on and off digestive discomfort as well. Ug! Talk about sensitive! 3 weeks later, and I still need to take allergy medication. After the spots faded significantly in the first week, I discontinued the prescription steroid cream. I only use that stuff sparingly, as it is quite strong, especially considering my sensitivity. I am just taking the Allegra, when I experience a symptom.
But then I asked myself, why are you taking a picture of that 1 barely visible spot?? Because unless I have “proof,” I fear I won’t be believed that I am STILL having this reaction.
I second guess myself, and this recent reaction (with a 6-week gap between exposure and slight reaction, and then my huge reaction which erupted January 20) is so bizarre, it has really triggered my feelings of “I may not be believed.” I am not taking a picture to convince anyone else. Nope, the picture is just for me.
I know this is routed in childhood experiences, and medical trauma when real pain and fear of injury is not believed, (for example, an impacted wisdom tooth to which local anesthetic had not yet fully took hold, the fact of which was initially dismissed by the oral surgeon I was trusting to extract it). As I typed this, I felt the urge to declare, “I have the x-ray of the impacted wisdom tooth if you don’t believe me,” and post a picture! Except, no one is saying they don’t believe me, except me. I am the only one here, in this space, saying that. But second guessing myself like this constantly, always seeking to provide “proof,” it is particularly bad for my own self esteem.
Sigh. I am recognizing this behavior, and I am working on being kinder to myself.























