Sunburn Fire-Ant Fiberglass Hell Fire. Its real. And I can't stand it.

I thought I would share my story. I get sunburnt on occasion, this past Saturday was one of those times. Apparently, I am allergic to sunburn, and I go a little crazy. I've never met anyone else to whom this happens, and NO ONE seems to understand me. So I was thrilled to find a blog with several people weighing in.

http://kathrynjennings.blogspot.com/2011/12/sunburn-fire-ant-hell-itch.html

My comment is at the bottom, but I thought I'd repost it here.

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My god. The power of the internet is good. It loves us and keeps us. I pledge my undying love to the internet and honor it every day.

THANK YOU for posting this and using whatever words and phrases I searched for.

I've suffered this twice before and again today. It is the absolute worst. NO ONE who hasn't experienced it can begin to understand. It isn't just the fire ants marching under your skin, its not only the fiberglass being drug across you, its not exclusively the lemon juice squirted into a paper cut. It is that it becomes almost instantly mental. It drives you insane with panic, crazy while under assault from unseen assailants, the discomfort drives you to madness, slapping yourself, pacing, willing to do anything at any time for even a modicum of relief. Then, you make the mistake of trying aloe or lidocaine or cold compresses, and it angers the prickly fire just beneath your skin and it surges forth the fury of ten thousand suns which drives you further into madness and desperation.

I liken it to the reaction of a heroin and crack addict being doused with mustard gas. I was inconsolable, raving, jumping, jerking, running myself into walls, screaming. I was not sane. My eyes were alternately wide and crazed, then closed tight as I waited for the surge of pain to pass. I was crying and rocking, pacing angrily across the house, looking at items in my fridge, milk, creamy dressings, slices of cheese, pudding, hoping and calculating if they would possibly sooth the thousands of scorpion stings across my shoulders and chest.

Thank you for this post. While it doesn't calm the lightning firestrikes of sharpened jacks rolling under my skin, it does ease my mind to know that I am truly not alone, not crazy, and not descending into an opium-like madness from which I'll never recover. There are other people who have felt this way, who feel this way, you have lived through, and emerged fromt he otherside, newly dedicated to applying sunscreen, wearing swimming shirts, staying the fuck indoors.

My day of calm hasn't yet arrived. I'm still constantly walking through the briar patch, grapefruit rain falling into every new wound. My nerves and in turn my brain, is screaming. Demanding I roll around in the sand, commanding me to use the metal garden rake across my chest, trying to convince me that the razor blade paint scraper is my only solution. But I am strong.

I am distracting myself by talking, reading, walking... I am drugged up, with twice the normal dose of antihistamines, anti-inflammatories, and an anti-anxiety pill.

Nothing is working, except to keep me from walking in front of a bus. Its had almost come to that. A final release from the pain.

But I am strong, and I have others out there. Who unknowingly, silently support me, who know my struggle. Who know I've not gone crazy.

I just wish they could completely convince me. Because I've got a tub of greek yogurt and a spatula in my hand, and I'm not afraid to use it.