I know you looked at me this morning. But you didn’t see me.
I am familiar with you, and I am always there.
Even though you wish I were not.
Guttate is my first name, or plague to some. Psoriasis is my second.
I spread around your body everywhere I can.
White scales, blobs, and red spots.
I like to make it itch; I like to annoy. I know it makes you hide, cover-up, I say.
I creep, I crawl to make you twitch.
You scratch, and I become angrier.
Short-lived treatment didn’t reach the cause. I know I hold the key.
Dear one,
I am your skin, your physical boundary.
Protecting you from outside influences and marking your edges. Like any cell, I receive nourishment from the outside and express what is inside me.
When something ‘gets under your skin’ or ‘pushes you over the edge,’ or your internal balance has been compromised, and imbalances occur, then I have to harden and reinforce that boundary, don’t I?
So then I irate, burn, and itch to all sensations related to anger because anger is my natural response to being breached. It's an automatic defence.
Anger, you say. I don’t feel anger. But think about this. When you are so sensitive to how you’re perceived by others that you attempt to hold back any expression of how you feel, then that energy, well, it has to show up somewhere, that Irritation is often an unexpressed desire for things or people to be different.
Then, there is a shame; what happens to you when you lose connection or feel rejected by other significant people? I know shame says, ‘I am bad’. The rejection you internalise. You withdraw.
I am your boundary, and knowing that this is painful and wounds, I restrict & contract for you. I am keeping you small and limited. By hardening your boundaries, I try to keep you safe.
I show up to tell you this so that we can heal together.
Love from your skin.
This is a little share from my Morning Pages: First, a little poem. That led me to a little reflection on the somatic reasoning for my guttate (plague) psoriasis – with my skin telling me why I might have such a condition. Hopefully, it might help you, too.
Whatever your angst might be, think about it from a different perspective.
The more we learn about how the body keeps the score, and the more we consider the body's perspective, the more power we can perhaps, make changes that don’t involve medicine or ointments.
Write to heal.
I would love for you to join us at my online bi-weekly 'writing for well-being' circle on Friday evenings at 6:30 pm. It’s a wonderful, nurturing, safe space.
Always,
Such a thought-provoking perspective
What an insightful poem and letter from your skin. This is so good!