Purging
I joined a new community today, a very small Vitiligo one. I thought I should post this in my reg journal as well, a way of purging it for myself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I just joined today and thought I would take this opportunity to introduce myself.
My name is Jennifer and I have had Vitiligo since I was eight years old. I will be turning 33 soon.
It started out as patches on my knees and quickly spread to my hands, feet, arms, face, and armpits. At the time I was diagnosed it wasn't a commonly known disease so I had to go to Stanford for biopsies and treatment. I was prescribed a medication in pill form that I would have to take at school and then wear these hideous, huge sunglasses that old people would wear. I was forced to lie out in the sun on my weekends with sunglass on after I took the pill. I hated being out in the sun like that, always have. It dried me out and it was almost painful. I then got a new dermatologist who started me on ultraviolet light treatments. I would paint a drug (the name is escaping me right now - Oxycyclene?) on all my Vitiligo spots and then start out with a couple seconds and build up each time in the light booth. Sometimes it would be a touch too long and I would burn. So they'd have to crank it back a notch and start over. I went two times a week for years. In high school I had extra curricular activities that took up my time so I didn't go anymore.
In between seventh and eighth grade I was out at the pool too long and I developed 3rd degree sunburns, with blisters covering every spot of Vitiligo on my body. My legs fused bent and I couldn't walk for a month. After that I was paranoid about being in the sun. Strangely enough my Vitiligo seemed to reverse itself a bit a few years after that. I still don't know if it was the treatments finally taking hold or the burns. My spots aren't as bad anymore (in relation to what they were) and for that I'm thankful.
Emotionally, my Vitiligo has deeply affected who I am. From the time it started appearing I was ostracized and teased. No one would play with me for fear they would "catch it". Every recess I would sit on the swings, swinging by myself with my back to the playground and sing songs to myself. My teachers would keep the whole class in from recess to discuss "Jennifer's problem". I cried constantly out of loneliness and because of the names I was called. It didn’t help that I had to take the pills at school and wear those hideous glasses. My fifth grade teachers had the amazing foresight to have the class read a book called "The White Mountains". That became my nickname from that point on. I had very white knees you see.
I was suicidal from the age of eight on. I would go home from school every day and hold one of the kitchen knives. The thought of my mother being alone was the only thing that stopped me. No adult ever took the time to check on me, see why I was never playing with anyone else, and understand why I was crying. I switched schools after 5th and luckily was put into a school where I wasn't teased again though I still had horrible self esteem, something that still haunts me today.
I am always conscious of “it”, it proceeds me in my mind though friends tell me that they didn't even notice it at first, or if they did they don't even see it now. My bf even says it makes me beautiful. That's hard to take. I think it's a piece of shit although I'm sure for him it is true. My healing over my Vitiligo is a constant process. To get over the “ugliness” I see on myself is hard work. I’m trying. I just have to stay away from blacklights…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I just joined today and thought I would take this opportunity to introduce myself.
My name is Jennifer and I have had Vitiligo since I was eight years old. I will be turning 33 soon.
It started out as patches on my knees and quickly spread to my hands, feet, arms, face, and armpits. At the time I was diagnosed it wasn't a commonly known disease so I had to go to Stanford for biopsies and treatment. I was prescribed a medication in pill form that I would have to take at school and then wear these hideous, huge sunglasses that old people would wear. I was forced to lie out in the sun on my weekends with sunglass on after I took the pill. I hated being out in the sun like that, always have. It dried me out and it was almost painful. I then got a new dermatologist who started me on ultraviolet light treatments. I would paint a drug (the name is escaping me right now - Oxycyclene?) on all my Vitiligo spots and then start out with a couple seconds and build up each time in the light booth. Sometimes it would be a touch too long and I would burn. So they'd have to crank it back a notch and start over. I went two times a week for years. In high school I had extra curricular activities that took up my time so I didn't go anymore.
In between seventh and eighth grade I was out at the pool too long and I developed 3rd degree sunburns, with blisters covering every spot of Vitiligo on my body. My legs fused bent and I couldn't walk for a month. After that I was paranoid about being in the sun. Strangely enough my Vitiligo seemed to reverse itself a bit a few years after that. I still don't know if it was the treatments finally taking hold or the burns. My spots aren't as bad anymore (in relation to what they were) and for that I'm thankful.
Emotionally, my Vitiligo has deeply affected who I am. From the time it started appearing I was ostracized and teased. No one would play with me for fear they would "catch it". Every recess I would sit on the swings, swinging by myself with my back to the playground and sing songs to myself. My teachers would keep the whole class in from recess to discuss "Jennifer's problem". I cried constantly out of loneliness and because of the names I was called. It didn’t help that I had to take the pills at school and wear those hideous glasses. My fifth grade teachers had the amazing foresight to have the class read a book called "The White Mountains". That became my nickname from that point on. I had very white knees you see.
I was suicidal from the age of eight on. I would go home from school every day and hold one of the kitchen knives. The thought of my mother being alone was the only thing that stopped me. No adult ever took the time to check on me, see why I was never playing with anyone else, and understand why I was crying. I switched schools after 5th and luckily was put into a school where I wasn't teased again though I still had horrible self esteem, something that still haunts me today.
I am always conscious of “it”, it proceeds me in my mind though friends tell me that they didn't even notice it at first, or if they did they don't even see it now. My bf even says it makes me beautiful. That's hard to take. I think it's a piece of shit although I'm sure for him it is true. My healing over my Vitiligo is a constant process. To get over the “ugliness” I see on myself is hard work. I’m trying. I just have to stay away from blacklights…