luvlani: (chanca piedra)
luvlani ([personal profile] luvlani) wrote2015-11-05 10:41 pm
Entry tags:

Trophy

I havent written. I know. Its the effort and the new schedule. I've switched to spreadsheets, have I mentioned that? I can't bring myself to log in the notebook anymore. I'm also on cycle. Fabulous. Throw more craziness at me. Anyway, I wanted to write about what's on my mind so I can get it out of my head and rest tonight. :



Everyone in my family has a trophy, except me. I'm the failure in the family. The only thing my name is written on is a small plaque I asked my mom to buy for me as a kid because 'hey my name is on it!'

I watched my hands as the water boiled for tea. They were a different color, mottled pale and in one are it looked a bit yellow. Then it slowly changed into mottled pink, with darker pink lines as if I had been pressing hard on an edge, except, I was holding my palms up all that time. My fingertips grew pale and almost a shade of grey. I had enough. I mixed up some extra virgin coconut oil with tea tree oil and applied it onto my hands. Candida was getting accustomed to the extra virgin coconut oil, I thought, so maybe adding the tea tree oil will throw it off. I know I can use oregano oil, but I'm trying to save as much of that as I can given how expensive it is. It's my secret weapon though, since it's the one thing candida can't adapt to. Slowly my hands started to look "normal" again. In this case, "normal" means a mottled pinky hue but with slight more evenness to it. I could tell my back was flaring up. I could feel the heat and itchy sting. It was a big patch. I checked the mirror, and I was right. It looked like something had also scratched me. That's the weird thing with this 'rash'. It heats up a broad blob kind of area and every so often I'll find lines through it, sometimes deep, sometimes thin. My boyfriend often asks if I scratch. I proved to him that I didn't when I asked him to check my back after hours of sitting next to each other at the PCs. Sure enough, it looked like I scratched it, but how could I have when I had been at the desk typing all that time? He started to believe me, I think.

If I can beat this thing. If I can re-balance my candida, and somehow through the grace of God, get my life in order - get it back; I'll be my own fucking trophy.