The Itchy & Scratchy Show
Something is wrong with my body, and it is going to drive me fucking crazy.
I itch. I itch everywhere. I itch especially at this second on my left foot, with an itch so intense that I’ve nearly clawed through the skin to the blood beneath, and I"m still scratching. I’ve taken Benadryl. I’ve put on hydrocortizone cream. Aquaphillic. I’ve wet it down. I’ve wrapped it up. I’ve scratched and scratched and scratched. I’ve not scratched until my brain screams and my hands fly there of their own free will, possessed by a madness to MAKE IT FUCKING STOP.
It’s still itching. It’s hurting now, too, and itching beneath. And I have no idea why.
It moves. It morphs from my foot to my calf, then to my thigh. It leaps to my hands, up my arm. It goes to my face, to the back of my neck, to my hair. It itches like a bug bite, like a rash, but there is absolutely nothing there, not anywhere–not until I get to scratching, that is, and then it is red from the irritation of my fingernails.
It’s been doing this for days. It comes and it goes, but it’s worst at night just before I go to bed, and in the evenings starting around five or six.
It has to be in my head.
But nothing I do makes it either stop or get out of my head.
I have no idea what to do with this. No clue. All I can tell you is that if you live in Ames and you hear a blood curdling scream of rage and frustration and then wild weeping in the middle of the night, it’s me, because it’s finally won and I have lost my mind.
Off to scratch and see if I’ll draw blood.