Have you ever loved someone so much, it hurt? I’ve been with my husband for five years, married three. Kevin is absolutely amazing…. smart, funny, an old school gentleman. He can be a dick every now and then, but that’s in everyone. Nobody is perfect and we all come with complexities.
...
I started having hallucinations about four months after our wedding. We had our first big argument and I honestly can’t remember what it was about. But once it was over, I decided to run a bath to try and relax. Pacing back and forth, trying to arrange the setting, I noticed my breasts in the mirror. My left one, had a small rash forming above my nipple. I looked down at it, and then it began to itch. I scratched at it a little, then a little more. It felt good to get the itch but it didn’t stop. As I scratched the rash spread up to my chest, and small cuts started to form. Stopping myself was a challenge in itself.
“Kevin!” I shouted, “You gotta come in here and look at this!” Kevin appeared in the threshold in moments. He was still clearly annoyed. “What’s going on?” I start patting at my cuts with tissue.
“Where did this nasty ass rash come from? Right on my boob! If we’re doing dinner with your parents tomorrow I can’t wear that black dress.” Kevin looked at me with confusion, “Rash? Show me where it is.” “Show you? Do you not see this blood I’m cleaning up?” I held up the tissue towards him. “Jasmine are you fucking with me? Look I’m just trying to chill out I don’t need your little pranks right now.” With that, he walked away from me. “Dude! I’m itching like crazy what are you talking about? You seriously don’t see this?” He didn’t respond. I quickly grabbed my phone to take a picture. I needed to have something to show to my mom and friends. But once I held up my phone, I was horrified. The rash didn’t show on my camera screen. My skin looked perfectly fine. I took the picture, and there was still nothing. Yet when I look down, and when I looked in the mirror, the rash was clear and present. It definitely itched like hell and burned like it was real.
I stepped into the bath and slowly sank in. As the water covered my torso, it burned my chest where the rash was. Looking down at it, I could see flakes of skin floating and wiggling with the water on my breast.
As time passed, a pattern appeared. My skin would get worse every time we argued. The bigger the argument, the nastier the reaction became. In a new area of my body, a rash would appear, and it would be itchier than the last.
I never thought our arguments were that severe, but it looked that way to my friends. They would mention that he was being over the top and sometimes even disrespectful. I could see where they were coming from, but I know Kevin like no one else does. I know that he’s speaking out of care and passion, even when it’s sharp tongued.
The worst part was that no one saw my side of it. I’ve heard of people creating conditions and symptoms all in their head...and so I thought….this was something I was projecting. I still appeared clear skinned and beautiful in photos, and that’s exactly how the world saw me. But my rashy, pusy skin was my waking reality, and it never went away. The rash spread to every inch of my body, and it began eating my skin away. I would still dress normally, but I would avoid the mirror as much as I could. I stopped putting on makeup, because it began to irritate my face. To everyone around me, I just made it seem like I was “going natural” and after a while everyone bought it. The itching and pain had gotten so bad that I would excuse myself multiple times when I was out, so I stopped accepting invitations. No matter how much I tried to hold back, I needed to scratch. My flesh became shredded. But again, no one ever saw anything. Not even the blood I drew or bits of skin I’d leave behind. I mean...the rash may have been fake, but what I would do to myself was very real! It had to be…
It even hurts to have sex. Kevin does his best to make sure he’s gentle. But every thrust is agonizing. When we finish, I have to change the covers every time. Kevin just thinks I’m squirting and OCD about sleeping in clean sheets. But what I see is so much worse. Chunky puddles of blood would seep into the spots we screwed the most. It made me want to puke. One time I even saw my clitoris, completely detached, lying in our sex spot. But I don’t want to stop having sex with him, or drive him to another woman for his needs. So I sit through it.
Of course, I’ve been to a therapist. Four in fact, of varying specialties. There were a few case studies that are parallel to mine, but none of the tests, remedies or medication helped me in the slightest. My husband tried to be supportive, but he couldn’t see what the issue was.
However they did note something interesting. Our arguments never led to a productive solution. We would have them, and whenever I came out of it I never felt like anything had been fixed. Honestly, I would just apologize and accept responsibility for everything that went wrong in our marriage. I never confronted his wrongs or defended my actions. Each therapist felt that my invisible rash was a manifestation of the pain I hold onto through each situation. Kevin thought we were having better outcomes with the therapists’ exercises and suggestions. After so long, I just decided to fake my progress and stop wasting our money.
Our third anniversary was coming up and I just knew he’d go above and beyond to plan for it, so I needed to make sure I looked perfect for him...I was happy that I could still be seen as something beautiful in his eyes. I went shopping for a new dress yesterday, and I finally got what I wanted. I got the validation I received and I didn’t find it in a store. It had been an hour deep into my spree. I bounced from boutique to boutique in the mall, each time more difficult than the last. The sight of me was….indescribably horrid. I was entirely red. My flesh had been scratched down to the bone in some places. I no longer had a face. My eyes were bulged and salvaged by a thin layer of what should be my eyelids. My nose, scraped down to cartilage. The ligaments in my neck and hands were exposed, and every garment I touched became stained with blood. Pieces of me trailed behind every path I walked, and seat I had taken. I was falling apart. And no one seemed to notice.
Or so I thought.
I left that store and walked towards the mall’s exit. A family of three just entered and they were walking in my direction: two well dressed men, one dark haired, one blond, and their adorable daughter. The little girl had to be around 4 or 5, she had her hair done neatly in a bun and carried a small over the shoulder purse. Her eyes locked onto me and she couldn’t stop staring. Once she was next to me, she let out an ear piercing scream, crying and pointing at me. One of the men scooped her up quickly.
“What is wrong with you Alex! Pointing is incredibly rude!” The other man walked up to me, “I’m sorry miss, I have no idea what came over her.” “It’s fine,” I tried to smile “kids are kids.” We went our separate ways and I was almost out of this dreadful experience, but then I heard faint pitter patters behind me. I turned to see little Alex stopping right behind me. I kneeled down to her level. “Hey hun! Is everything ok?” She still didn’t want to get too close to me, I could feel it in her stance.
“I’m sowie I pointeded at you. I think you need this.” She reached into her tiny purse and my heart sank when I realized she was pulling out a bandaid. She can see what I see.
My anniversary is tonight. I know Kevin will have everything prepared just perfectly. He got us a fabulous room at the Townsend Hotel for the weekend. Right now, he’s out getting any last minute supplies for our time and I’m gussying up for the surprise. I even put on a little bit of makeup just to make sure he knows how special this is to me. I just ran a hot bath and swallowed all that was left in my Vicodin bottle. He’ll find my note before he finds me, and that’s the way I need this to go. He needs to know how his words made it difficult to live with myself. He deserves a stronger woman. Maybe things could’ve gone differently if I weren’t stuck in my own head.
I want to make sure I look as relaxed as I can. When he sees me, I don’t want to startle him. I love him so much.
