Saturday, December 24, 2011

Click it, or -- aw, fuck it.

So much for mind over matter.

Inspired by this guy's skeptical quest for an alternative eczema treatmente (spoiler alert: antibiotics were what finally did the trick), today I tried the clicker technique.

Here's how it works: every time you scratch, tally it using a clicker that's just enough of a pain in the ass to use that you become annoyingly aware of previously unconscious blissful scratch attacks. The guy from The Guardian saw immediate results: he fought the itch addiction and gave his skin time to heal itself.

I started strong and after sugary booze and dinner with family (and maybe a bad egg or two at breakfast?) wound up in a Christmas eve tailspin, raking and gouging, lashing out at my concerned partner and crying into a salty oatmeal bath. Turns out stinging is worse than itching, so I broke down and busted out that hated tub of steroidal ointment and slathered way too much of it over most of my body.

Must be building up more of a tolerance, since it's not working -- still itches. Burns too. The anticipation of Christmas morning used to be the thing that kept me up tonight. I'm beat, but I'll be lucky if I can get any winks.

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