Relieve eczema with poetry

As part of our tips for eczema, we approach poetry. To better cope with the illness, several ways are available to us. You can choose to practice a sporting activity, a manual activity, mutual aid, live with an animal which relaxes us, reading, expression through art or writing. All in all, the activities of the hands or the mind result in a reduction in stress, as well as relief from the constraints of illness. Eczema and poetry, a way to not focus on your itching or on the eyes of others.

In this respect, this is the first article in a series on skin diseases and art. Indeed, many people suffering from psoriasis, eczema, or other dermatitis express themselves through art: painting, drawing, music, photography and many others. It seems that these art disciplines, requiring concentration, relieve psoriasis.

Today, we are talking to you about writing and more specifically about poetry by presenting you two poems relating to psoriasis and eczema. Firstly, a text on psoriasis, written by a person affected by this disease whose pseudonym on Doctissimo is “Frankystout”. The second poem is written by Stéphanie Merhand, who suffers from several dermatitis. This poem is taken from the collection of poems “My daily life” which received the 1st prize for Talents de Patients 2013, a competition organized by Les Laboratoires du Médicament. So, it seems that poetry allows you to free yourself from your eczema.

Regardless, writing can be a very saving exercise, we express our joys, our doubts, our sorrows or our pains. You can also consult our article on guide to chronic diseases to support patients and help them cope better with the illness. Therefore, here are two examples of the power of poetry in relieving eczema or psoriasis.

O Psoriasis

Disease (1)

Like a scale oscillating between life and death,
I can't find my balance.
One day I lean to one side,
The day after the other.
This illness is eating away at me,
Every day I deteriorate a little more.
Sometimes I resurface,
To plunge even lower again.
I observe happy people without worries,
And I envy them.
Yet the flame deep inside me is still there,
It will only turn off when I decide to do so.
I'm still too young.

Mirrors scare me,
It's even them who are afraid of me,
I am completely disfigured.
I even avoid calm waters,
Because just the idea of seeing my reflection
On the water surface
Makes me sick.

My illness is eating away at me,
The skin comes off like
Peeling paint.
But I know if I fight
I can beat this disease.
Alas, the gaze of others makes her
Stronger,
And makes me weaker.
So I no longer dare to do anything and
Stay cloistered in the dark.
As soon as a noise is heard, a sign from outside
It's like a stab in my heart.
I sleep, sleep as much as possible, to forget.
Even when sleep isn't there.

There was a time when I was beautiful,
But no one remembers it.
People want the present,
The past is quickly forgotten.

What is life about?
Why does the disease attack certain people?
And leave others in peace?

Maybe God's logic,
Or the cruelty of evil.

I postpone all my projects to the future,
Hoping to achieve them when I am cured.
But when I see the evolution of my illness,
I'm already giving up on some of them.

Today, I didn't recognize myself in the mirror.
My face no longer has anything human in it. I became something else.
I look at myself, and I laugh. Laughing is unbearable pain, I'm in pain.
Yet I laugh hard, laugh harder and harder, forgetting the pain.
I laugh so hard my face is bloody
And I cry tears the next moment...