Autoimmune diseases are a funny thing. They are these mystery diseases where no one really knows why your body is doing what it's doing. The over-simplified explanation of psoriasis: On the inside, your immune system is over-active and basically starts attacking you. On the outside, skin cells in certain areas replenish every three days instead of every 30 causing ugly plaques/dry skin. Stress is usually the trigger for a flare up.
I made it into 2018 before my skin started showing signs of a flare up (over six months medication-free). I can't really put my finger on a trigger. Perhaps more gluten sneaking into my diet for the holidays. Maybe some stress. Who knows. Regardless, it was a minor flare up. I treated it occasionally with a topical medication and it stayed fairly mild, although it didn't go away. I started being more careful with my diet, but I still had some patches.
Then, I remembered the blog I wrote about psoriasis and its metaphysical explanation. When I Googled it again recently, I just looked at the general theme (and not the specifics I mentioned in my blog). Fear. But fear of what? What did I fear when I was a kid? My parents splitting up -- sure. But we had differing opinions on when my psoriasis started. My parents insisted it was when I was anywhere from 10-12 years old, and I thought I was closer to five years old. Then about three weeks ago, I found a journal entry from when I was 11 or 12 years old. I mentioned how I had suffered from psoriasis for seven years. Boom. I WAS five years old when I was diagnosed. I still remember sitting in the doctor's office and he asked me if I ever picked at the plaques. I admitted I did. He laughed and said I shouldn't be so honest.
So what happened to trigger psoriasis when I was four or five years old? My first memory as a child: