Everyone has their sad stories.

My psoraisis began when my ex-fiance "Dear John'd" me while I was vacationing in Paris, after 5 years of dating. Of course, the aftermath of drug abuse/ self medication did not help my situation.

You're killin' me Scott! You and your Euro-model stare. Jeez, that really throws a wrench in this whole emotional baggage theory - you let down a major block and THEN got the big P. We'll get this thing figured out yet...

All of our bodies systems are connected and inseparable. I subscribe to the belief that unreconciled psychic negativity can and does have serious physical manifestations. And unless mainstream western medicine becomes more holistic in its approach to chronic illness in general, it will probably never discover a 'cure' for most cases of psoriasis.

Sounds like you got a lot accomplished in that year, but maybe the work isn't done. My instinct tells me I've got a lot of unresolved stuff inside, too. As far as being able to afford therapy... what's more precious than emotional and physical harmony? I feel like some irrational, damaged part of me doesn't want to get better, and that's why I avoid going. Sound weird? Sound familiar?

There have been several fairly traumatic events in my life. I don't feel like sharing in public, but if you're interested, send me a message. They'll probably come out in some ways in all my posting. I had psoriasis before it all happened. (I had just turned 12 when I got my first patch, out of the blue. I wasn't sick or anything). And I noticed that through all the emotional trauma, I kind of maintained. I have a tendency to go numb when something bad happens, and the numbness can go for a long time (year and a half was the longest). While I'm numb, psoriasis doesn't give me much trouble. Or maybe I don't notice. Or don't care. But once I get into the grieving period, when it all comes out, it flares up, I get the worst acne, my hair starts falling out, IBS comes back, etc, etc. It eventually calms down. I've gotten a little better in dealing with it, as I've gotten older actually.

I did see a few therapists in my times, and I've come to believe they're damn fools. (Appologies if any of you are therapists.) Maybe I never found the right therapist, but their methods were never helpful and so often I'd get an anti depressant prescription and I'd rip into little shreds right there in front of them. Like I said before, I'm the kind of patient where doctors groan when they hear my name. So how did I start to feel better? I found some things that were bigger than me and I participated. I read, sometimes a book a day. I played video games, knit, crochet, tried some other crafts, got a cat. I found a way to occupy myself, sometimes the body, sometimes the mind. I find that needle arts help me think things through - keep the hands busy and the mind reels. Also, reading helps take the mind off things (I often either read myself to sleep or have others do it).

It works for me. I hope you find your way Z. :) I'm sorry that the stuff that happened to you still affects you like this. If you need to talk, send me a message.

~s