"Poison Abby"
I have poison ivy on my boob.
Not that you needed to know that but it’s the truth. I think I got it while weed-eating our ranch last week. It was 4 very hot hours of weed-whacking. At one point I saw some poison ivy growing by the fence line I was trimming but I hoped my long sleeve shirt would protect me.
Apparently not.
Growing up I was highly allergic to poison ivy. If I went near it, my whole body would break out in a hellish, unrelenting, itchy rash. No wonder people called me “Poison Abby.” It’s not so bad as an adult, thankfully. However, it still manages to occasionally find me - reminding me that I will never fully escape the torture. I’ve learned to accept it and I am grateful that at least the reaction is much milder than my childhood years.
Sometimes though, I forget about poison ivy because breakouts are rare. That is what happened this time. I thought it was chiggers.
Uge. Chiggers. I hate chiggers too. The little microscopic devils create unbearable, itchy spots that seem to take forever to go away. I had been treating the area with an anti-itch gel for chiggers. It would itch so bad that it woke me up every night. I kept applying the medicine but it just didn’t seem to be getting any better.
The other day as I was complaining to Nate about how uncomfortable and itchy I was. When he suggested that maybe it was poison ivy my heart stopped. Shit. I hate chiggers but I despise poison ivy.
However, it made sense. Poison ivy does not need anti-itch gel to soothe it. It needs calamine lotion to dry it up. Putting gel on it felt good at the moment, but it was also prolonging the healing process.
As soon as I realized my mistake, I made the change. No more gel. I needed to dry this booby out. In just one day, I can already see a difference in the rash. My poor skin is like, “Finally! I’ve been trying to tell you!”
We have all heard the saying, “If you do what you’ve always done, you will get what you’ve always gotten.” Pat Parelli, a famous horse trainer that I used to follow and learn from, used to say it all the time. It has always helped me be curious when working with horses that were having trouble understanding me. I would offer a different approach and then, “Wha-la!”, we would have a breakthrough.
If I had applied this concept to my itchy issue, I would likely have found relief sooner.
Here’s my question: “How often do I get stuck in my life, or even possibly prolong my pain because I am reaching for the wrong medication?” Maybe it’s not just me; maybe others out there can hardly stand the itch and just keep applying the soothing gel. In the moment, it sure feels good.
There is no shame or blame. It’s not our fault. The trauma we have experienced feels unbearable. If there is a quick fix for the pain, we want it. It makes total sense.
Sometimes making the switch to doing it a different way is just shit hard - especially if we have to resist the instant relief. I am asking myself to sit with the pain and give it time and space. This is the part of healing that fucking hurts. I hate the feelings that arise when I allow the truth just to be, “true.” I’d rather keep popping my “busy pills” that don’t allow me the time to dig deep.
I’m trying to learn; I’m trying to do it differently. It’s weird. For someone who feels deeply, I sure don’t like to feel. Last week I blogged about my mom. It was hard as fuck to dig into because my mind kept making excuses for her and telling me that she was disciplining me out of love - and that surely it wasn’t abuse. I think it’s the little girl voice inside me that can’t bear to believe that her mother was abusive. But no matter how hard I try, the truth keeps coming back. It refuses to be buried.
Today, instead of running away, and plugging my ears, I am leaning in. I am listening. I am accepting what is. I am sitting with it. I am feeling it. I am giving the damn poison ivy some air so that it will fucking dry up.
I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to quit prolonging my pain. I am ready to put away the soothing gel of avoidance. I don’t want to keep getting what I’ve always gotten. I am ready to do something different.
I love each one of you. I love you because you are such a brave human - even on the days you stay in bed or run away like I do. It takes a truckload of guts to keep showing up. If you find yourself with the same damn rash day in and day out, maybe consider a different approach. I believe in you - with all my heart.
Peace in - Poison ivy out. We got this.
One boob at a time.
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