For most of my adult life, I’ve had a serious problem with my face. No, I am not talking about finding it aesthetically unpleasing (obnoxiously, I have never thought of the structure of my face as ugly – haterz gonna…something), but my skin has always been a mess: blotchy, flaky (even in the sweaty days of summer), and irritated a lot of the time. I do not wear makeup on my face because a) I am lazy and b) I am not that interested in seeking out products that won’t irritate my face more.
There are moisturisers that help (Aveeno’s Eczema Care is my potion of choice lately), but not enough. I still look like I’ve dived into panko around midday, particularly around my mouth, and I’m breaking out with giant, Vesuvian-style zits far more frequently because heavy moisturisers clog my already-easily clogged pores terribly. (Light ones do fuck-all. I can literally feel them not working as I put them on. Also, I have milia around my eyes. Basically, if something can get into a hole in my face, it will. Oh, wait, no…)
Exfoliating with anything stronger than a facecloth is extremely unpleasant. I mean, sloughing dead skin can feel luxuriant (lava stone on heel blissssss), but this sure does not.
Sometimes I don’t drink enough non-caffeinated, non-alcoholic beverages. I’ve been endeavouring to change that in the last few weeks, by switching to herbal teas and water for much of my work day, but it’s not enough. (Also, I pee more often than a neurotic (is there any other kind?) Pug at a Rottweiler convention.)
I failed at gluten-free Heathen Lent this year (the day of the flood, I said ‘fuck this shit, I’m having a bagel’ and haven’t looked back) and am not convinced of having a wheat problem, but, at the same time, I have to consider that at least some of my skin problems might be related to what I’m eating.
And I hate that. I really don’t want to monitor my eating, because, in the past, that has led to madness, but at the same time, I also don’t want my face to fall off, nor do I enjoy itching and burning. (Maybe I should Prep-H my face, eh?)
So, while I wait for a very long time for a referral appointment with a dermatologist (there is a dearth of them in this town, apparently), I am contemplating trying an elimination diet (agh, I hate that word) to try to pinpoint a culprit.
Why not just get an allergy test? Well, I did one, a few years ago, but I didn’t like the clinic, and the testing didn’t actually come up with much of anything (I was left for an hour, rather than 20-30 minutes, with the needle scratches before anyone tested them, so swelling had already gone down on a couple of spots), even though I know I get tiny, angry face welts from tomatoes, many berries, peppers, and, sniff, sometimes red wine.
Of course, like a fool, I consume these things anyway, because, duh, delicious. But maybe I shouldn’t do that for a while and see if I see overall improvement.
Which makes me sound like the much-maligned Gwyneth, doesn’t it? Dammit. Ah well, I’m not walking into quacky clinics to spend my entire
life savingsremaining credit, so that’s something.
I’m not starting this imminently, or even definitely, but only potentially. I apologise in advance for any resultant crankiness. And if anyone in Ottawa can direct me to a non-crackpot medical person who can help me in this endeavour, that would be great.
Our upstairs sink is usable, our flooring is ordered, and I still have a shitload of stuff to do because I am too tired at the end of a work day to do much of anything. Also, I’m discouraged because the last few boxes are mostly made up of things that don’t have a home (our tea shelf hasn’t been picked back up), so we can’t do anything with them.
So, yeah, that.