Where you are it might be snowing. Here in Los Angeles we've already seen highs in the 80s this month. Being uber anxious for summer (good and bad) I started preparing for the impending heat waves in January.
Why so soon? And prepare for what?
In the summer I find it nearly impossible to make a quick decision on what to wear. My favorite pink shorts I can only wear in spring. Come summer I'm too nervous my butt sweat will show through. Every shirt must be layered with a tank top to absorb body sweat. So on and so forth. Thus, I've begun scouting sweat friendly outfits now. There is nothing worse than going shopping in the summer and being smacked in the face with outfit choices that only accentuate my sweating problem.
How anyone can wear silk in the heat of summer?!
On a good note, I'm stoked about some recent finds and thought I'd share them with you.
SHOES!
My go to shoes since college are usually TOMS, but I felt like mixing it up this year. I've gone through at least three pairs of red TOMS in the last few years. A costly shoe to keep replacing.
I bought these primarily to wear with sun dresses. The neutral color they go with everything. My feet tend to swell when sweaty making these shoes a little tight, and not ideal to wear when walking a lot. For the purpose of prancing around a bar or around the office they're great. The extra cushioning is a nice touch.
These were quite a bargain as my size was on sale. They have the same cushioning sole as the beige slip ons above. These will be great for day to day wear. Covering the top part of my foot I won't have to worry about sweat showing as I run around town in these.
So many espadrille wedges are open toed, and that just won't fly. In college I had a similar pair from Target that I wore to DEATH. They were so disgusting by the time I finally threw them out. They absorbed sweat and went with all my going-out-on-the-town outfits and summery dresses. When I spotted their latest rendition I clamored to find my size. I snagged the last pair of eights. The lining of the shoe is made of cotton to help wick away sweat. The sole is made from fake leather which will help minimize stench. They feel a tad loose but that will be perfect when my feet are little balloons from the heat. I've held off on wearing them now so that they will last me all summer long. Ahhhh I can't wait to rock these.
With my new shoes I will try and abide by my promise to wear shoe liners. Read my post on shoe liners; how they help save your shoes, and keep you in your shoes.
Please share any sweat friendly finds you have in the comments. My style isn't for everyone. You may have the perfect outfit that someone else might be dying to find.
You may have seen the Pork Chop video as I call it. More formally known as the To This Day Project. You may have sobbed, like me, while watching it. If you haven't or want to experience it once more, here it is:
I urge you to press play.
Ugh, I'm crying again. I'm a god damn mess.
Were you bullied in school? I wasn't really bullied but societal norms let me know right away I wasn't normal.
Being bullied in school is something that stays with you for the rest of your life. More importantly, being bullied shapes the person you become. Within the first two minutes, cue tears hitting me like a sack of bricks:
We grew up believing no one would ever fall in love with us.
Oh my god. That's me! Where the hell are the tissues. My tears burn right about now, damn mascara.
I believed those words growing up. I still cry myself to sleep as an adult thinking those words. At an early age I knew my sweating was something to be ashamed of. I was never bullied for it but I never felt comfortable confiding in anyone about it. Social norms were my bully. I learned to hide my abnormality and still do. When these words and feelings manifest in you at such a young age it is very hard to shed them as an adult. It becomes part of your makeup. Your secrets and insecurities shape your every decision. You dig a hole to feel safe but you don't know how to come out of the hole for a breath of air. You look around and not sure who you can't trust to get you out.
Despite a loving husband she does not think she's beautiful.
I was an ugly duckling in junior high and very unassuming looking in high school. Come college I was alright, and today I've come into my looks and even get ya know complimented by strangers. Yet, I can not believe it for myself. This has affected me tremendously with relationships and I experience swings of depression. I am not comfortable or confident in my own skin 100% of the time because, again, the feeling of being less than my peers was instilled at an early age. Living in Los Angeles among models hasn't be easy either.
Lived like the uphills were mountains, and the downhills were cliffs.
Visually that line in the video is incredibly beautiful. We've all been there. Wanting to just jump off the cliff. Surely it's easier than the insane feelings and thoughts coursing through us.
There are days when I feel I can't take on one more thing, or I don't have the care to try. I rather just jump off the cliff. Depression caused by hyperhidrosis is real. The video shows how kids are thrown prescriptions so quickly for their depression. Fortunately I am not pilled up for my depression. My mother experienced how pills and prescriptions for mental health turn you into a drone, a zombie. A prescription is thrown at a behavior too often in our society before digging at the core to see what is truly wrong.
If you feel your life is for the better with a prescription for a mental or behavioral issue. I am all for it. But do not be afraid to question it. Everyday I have to work at my health to make sure I stay sane. It is too easy to spiral down.
If you can't see anything beautiful about yourself then get a better mirror.
Living an active life and not sitting at home dwelling on my insecurities is my "better mirror." My self confidence is not where I'd like it to be but it is much higher than when I was in school. The working world has it's demands and it forces responsibility on you. If you're idle in the working world your dreams of a career quickly crumble. Furthermore, surrounding myself with active people has helped. Going for a hike is so much easier when I can call a friend to join me.
There is nothing better than feeling your blood pumping rapidly after yoga. There is also nothing better than a drinking mimosa(s) on a patio taking in some Vitamin D on a perfectly sunny day in Santa Monica. These are the things that make me happy in a simple way. What makes you happy?
There is something inside you that made you quit trying despite everyone who told you to quit. You built a cast around your broken heart and you signed it THEY WERE WRONG.
You have to believe that they are wrong.
What makes you fight? When I fight for me, and champion for my own well being I see that I attract other fighters. Other people who want to live a healthy life want to surround themselves with my company. I have some of the greatest friends in the world. We do amazing things. We have goals we want to accomplish. We like to be outdoors exploring the wonderful things that we're so fortunate to have access to. The people who are wrong, they have fallen away.
The people who are wrong still exist, but they do not hold a place in my life. I do not give them the time to influence me any longer. They are not invited to brunch at my house.
Hyperhidrosis has taught me compassion.
Hyperhirdosis makes me feel that I am weird. I'm gross. So when I meet someone who has their own insecurity I'm far more compassionate. When you're compassionate the world is a little lighter.
In school, in the workforce, in the grocery store, wherever be a little more compassionate. Smile. You might just make someones day. Life is a fucking struggle and the nicer we are the better.
I am telling myself now to honk a little less. Oops. I've probably made a many of people want to jump off a cliff after honking. But seriously turn your god damn blinker off or get off your phone and drive. OK that one is going to take some work.
Be aware that nothing is not always as easy as it seems. I hope teachers and school administrators will learn this quickly. We must start pouring compassion to youth. As I've mentioned insecurities instill themselves when we're young. There are MANY phenomenal teachers out there, but there are many that continue to instill insecurity in school or mask with treatments that clearly don't work. To the teachers who have to fight a system to stop bullies and to get social services for their students, I salut you!
I am happy.
80 degree heat in LA today. Hiking solo and pool lounging solo.
I have a lot of shit to work on, but I can honestly say I am happy. I'll keep fighting for happiness. One day I'll feel beautiful. Today I don't feel shitty or ugly.
Please share your stories and struggles in the comments. We need each other! Someone may need out of a hole and your story just might help them climb out.
I've had five massages in my twenty six years of living so it hardly makes me an expert. I am an expert regarding the anxiety of getting a massage though. Last night being the frugal fabulous city living lady that I am I broke down and bought a deal on one of those flash sites. My bargain promised a massage and body scrub in glamorous North Hollywood (read: potentially sketchy).
Below I recount my dabbles with strangers massaging my body for your reading pleasure (I hope). Good news! We end on a happy tale. Funny enough I'm watching Celeste & Jesse Forever and there is a massage scene going on RIGHT NOW. I call that a sign.
The Ugly - Reflexology
One of my girlfriends Sam decided we should go to one of those cheap massage parlors. You see them all over in LA and Orange County. They're generally $20-$45 for a quick rub down. Nervously I asked my friend to describe what its like.
She tells me, "It's just a big room of people. You have your clothes on. It's nothing fancy but it feels amazing."
Slightly panicking knowing I couldn't get out of it, "OK so you leave your clothes on? I guess I could do that. It's just ummm my feet... they get... clammy."
Sam was keen on getting her kinks out could sense I was ready to back out, "You will do fine. They put your feet in a bucket of water. C'mon let's go."
They touch your feet?
My insides were curdling. My knots were creating knots. The backs of my legs were sweating with semi noticeable sweat stains on my yoga pants. The trip was already completely counter productive.
It was just as she described. However there was so much emphasis on the feet as this was a reflexology spa. I use the word spa loosely. First putting your feet in a bucket of hot water I could feel the sweat tingle come on-- that slight sting feeling that comes with nervous sweating. Although they were in a bucket of water I just knew they were dripping sweat.
The old man pulled my feet out of the bucket after a few minutes and began to put pressure on them. By rubbing the feet with certain pressure points reflexologists can release tension in other parts of the body. It's pretty fascinating but very uncomfortable with sweaty feet.
I could not stop sweating. My feet soaked the pillow they were resting on. I was mortified. By the time he worked his way to my back I wanted to run out the door. Instead I stayed like a tense ball ready to explode at any moment.
I will never get a reflexology massage again. If you have sweaty feet and are tangled by the idea of someone touching your feet RED ALERT AVOID REFLEXOLOGY. I have friends who swear by reflexology and love a quick trip in an Asian oasis. I envy their ease. But at the end of the day that shit just isn't for me.
The Bad - Chatty Cathy
Right after my parents divorced my mom decided we should take a trip to Hawaii in an attempt to have a bit of peace. It turned into a sad reminder our family was no more. I digress though, I had some pennies saved and thought a massage could help my aching heart.
At 19 I was not confident in speaking up for myself. I let the massues do what she thought was best. I cringed as she massaged my feet.
She commented on my sweating. That is one of my ultimate pet peeves-- pointing anything physically out of the norm on someone.
She had a tone like she was going to scold me. Then trying to suggest that I wasn't drinking enough water. Oh and she rattled on what was best for my acne. Congratulations lady you just announced that you are aware that I am sweaty. As if it was the first time I was hearing it. Good. For. You. Do you feel like you found the holy grail? I'm sorry I don't have a medal for you.
For fucks sake.
Wow. I just got heated remembering that moment.
Really though, this goes for anyone and any slight abnormal "thing" they may have. All that comes of it is embarrassment and the person who calls it out gets nothing. For the love of sanity think before you speak people.
The rest of the massage was fine. Just heightened insecurity is all.
The Good- Hot Oil. Rub it all over me.
The quaint spa in North Hollywood was a dream come true. The massues used hot oil which meant my sweat and the oil just kind of mixed together. I was confident the massues couldn't tell I was sweating and if she did she didn't say a god damn thing because she's the BEST.
Don't leave! I want this to last forever.
My massage was followed up with a sea salt scrub that again masked any and all sweat. The salt also helped leave my skin smooth and sweat free for a few hours after my relaxing retreat.
Parting Words
In conclusion, know that you're in charge and there are options for everyone. I always read Yelp reviews to get a sense of the spa. Just want your back and shoulders massages and hands avoided? Ask for it. You deserve it!
Let Jennifer Lawrence inspire you to enter a spa with confidence but not necessarily grace. She is true to herself and America is loving it.
It’s been seven years since I’ve seen a doctor about my hyperhidrosis. Think back to the early 2000s and the state of the internet. It was booming but not where it is today. There information available on hyperhidrosis was hard to come by. It was a full on battle to even locate a professional knowledgeable about my condition. But once I did, my life was changed through a quick surgery called ETS (Endoscopic thoracic sympathectomy).At a later time I fully intend on sharing this entire process in full in a future post.
Following the surgery, I kind of took what I could from this experience and moved on. I thought I depleted what collective medical knowledge was out there about my battle with the damp. It had always been so hard to find someone who even knew what hyperhidrosis was. So I assumed there was nothing more I could do. But recently, my perspective has changed. Creating this blog and engaging with the many others suffering with my same issues inspired me to return to the doctor’s office and continue my hunt for answers. So, thank you readers and followers!
DISCLAIMER: The following post serves as a sort of best practices guide for finding a doctor that can help you with hyperhidrosis. It is a review of my personal experience and is in no way medical advice for everyone. Please see your own doctor to make your own informed decisions.
Finding a Doctor
My first action was visiting SweatHelp.org and researched doctors in my area. I made sure to avoid plastic surgeons and thorasic surgeons. I avoided them because I wasn't confident they would be knowledgeable in other remedies aside from surgery or Botox. I was afraid they would immediately try to push one solution. Instead, I opted for a dermatologist. From there I checked to make sure they were covered under my insurance. I also searched their name to see if there were any positive or negative reviews. One did come back with terrible reviews on Yelp for customer service. You also have the right to call and inquire with the doctor if they're the right option for you. Save your time and money by doing your research.
Prepping for the Appointment
I took a bit of time to think about what I wanted to say and accomplish. I refreshed myself on my medical history. There is no such thing as Too Much Information. I recommend writing down what you want to ask and bring it in with you so you feel confident when you leave.
It's common to get nervous in front of a doctor. My mom, a nurse, refers to this as "White Coat Syndrome." She always encourages me to talk things through with her first before seeing a doctor. Thanks, Mom!
The Appointment
The doctor was very professional and I felt comfortable discussing hyperhidrosis. It's funny how hard it is for me to say the "H" word out loud. I could feel my emotions trying to take over. I'm shocked I didn't break down and cry like I've done before with doctors. When you go to extreme efforts to hide something it's painstaking to talk about it. I was able to pull it together knowing I was in a safe space.
The doctor was concerned to hear I had ETS surgery (again, I will post about this) as treating compensation sweating is a little harder. The options he presented were oral medication and Botox. That said, he had never prescribed a patient oral medication before. So he referred me to an internist to explore oral medication further. Although disappointed he wasn't more knowledgeable about medication like Robinal /Glycopyrrolate, I was very relieved he offered to seek a second opinion. Looking back on my decision to have ETS surgery I feel it was a decision made hastily. The surgeon who performed the ETS surgery did not help me weigh all my options nor did he encourage me to. I don't want to get caught making another swift decision I will regret later. That’s why it’s so important that you do research so you can be your own advocate.
Cost of Feeling Normal
Thrilled that I had options I was quickly deflated when I was told the cost of treatment. This dermatologist is charging $150 to deal with the paperwork associated with Botox treatment for hyperhidrosis—just the paperwork! It takes hours of paperwork to petition on behalf of a patient to have Botox covered by insurance. I value his time and understand the fee, but I ask the insurance companies, "Why must I fight to be treated?!" Have we not come a long way with treatment for hyperhidrosis? It seems rather archaic. A sad reflection on the state of healthcare and my finances in my
opinion.
When I found out I have to pay my doctor $150
to fill out paperwork.
Living in Los Angeles I live a fun lifestyle but not an extravagant one. Cost of living and general upkeep to feel normal is horrendous. At the age of 26 I have a pitiful savings living pay check to pay check. I just don't know if I can afford Botox treatments. I make a decent salary and I'm insured. I don't understand why what seems like basic care feels so out of reach. I'll refrain from going on a tirade. This is where adulthood can suck it.
Next Steps
I am very excited to the see the internist. Per Wikipedia, "Internal medicine is the medical specialty dealing with the prevention, diagnosis, and treatment of adult diseases." This doctor will hopefully give a global view to my health. I will be ready to spill my guts on my medical history. I'm particularly interested to hear how my endocrine system (think hormones) has been affected by hyperhidrosis. Are they linked? I don't know but I'll find out.
I'll continue to keep you updated on this journey. Journey? Mountain climb? Crawl through mud? I think I've found a new calling as hyperhidrosis healthcare activist. Here me roar more on this later.
I did a basic search tonight on YouTube for HH. Through the power of the interweb gods I stumbled upon MelMel21's videos. A 20-something, like me, putting her voice out there.
I'm working through a post describing my experience seeing a doctor today for the first time in seven years regarding HH. SEVEN YEARS. I will be posting in the next day or two. Until then, I give you Melissa:
How awesome is that? I continue to be amazed by the strength and courage of those speaking out about HH.
I also have a sense of GIRL POWER. Don't mind me I'll now be listening to Spice Girls on repeat.
WHEN I READ GOOD ADVICE BUT KNOW IT'LL NEVER WORK WITH HYPERHIDROSIS
I had a rousing Friday night staying in doing laundry, catching up on Daily Show, and a wee bit of terrible white wine. I also dived into my new dating "handbook." Oh boy, who have I become? I don't do self help books. I know what works for me and surely no one can give someone with HH advice. Unless you have HH I don't want to hear it. As I grow older I realize this is fatally flawed thinking.
This passage really struck me:
I want to live with integrity and truth. I'm not going to hide the jewel of who I am, nor will I mask my imperfections. No bargains, no avoiding reality, no conning myself, no lies. The more we commit to knowing and accepting ourselves, the more we are able to surrender to loving another person because we have nothing to hide and nothing to feel ashamed of... This is immensely important in the dating process because new love can resurrect our most primitive feelings of fear, hope, dependency, and emptiness. If we know how to soothe our pain and relax into our emptiness, we won't be afraid to be open and honest, regardless of the outcome.
-Charlotte Kasl, Ph.D., If the Buddha Dated
The jewel of who I am?! It's cheesy but try to look beyond that. I always use sweating as a cop out. No one knows what it's like, it's disgusting and surely no one will ever accept me for it. Or I at least need time to introduce it to someone as we build our relationship. But how much time?
Starting this blog is a huge step for me in being open about HH. Reading that passage further confirmed I need to continue this journey. It will be a process becoming completely comfortable talking about it. I have more stories to share about hiding... many more. Stay tuned and tell me about your process.
Never really having access to public transportation I've often romanticized about trips on a subway. Much like the sexy music video from Berlin. We all know it's not sexy. It's aesthetically unpleasing, generally noisy and for Angelenos a foreign concept. I live about a mile from a Metro station. It's close but not that close. Taking the Metro in Los Angeles is more of a novelty to people with cars which is a solid majority of people. This past weekend in LA was FYF Fest and hoards of 20-somethings ventured out to ride the Metro. Myself included.
Watching Father John Misty under a tree. Beating the heat.
Getting Dressed Before we get into my journey to FYF Fest, let's talk about the agonizing task of deciding of what to wear. I hadn't done laundry in about three weeks which means my favorite cotton breezy sweat wicking clothes were dirty. And my go to tank that doesn't show sweat I had been photographed in many times. Didn't want that tank showing up on Facebook again (really stupid reason in hindsight). Fuck. This music festival is outdoors, I have no idea what the grounds look like, and the sun is beaming bright. I'm going to be DRIPPING. What do I finally decide to wear? A dress with an under dress. The double dress. I debated if I should throw on some bike shorts to avoid chaffing. "Nah, I feel fine. This should be OK." I grabbed a thin jacket for in the evening. When you sweat through your clothes you will be cold after the sun sets.
The Journey After walking a mile in mostly shade I thought I had done a good job at keeping the sweat minimal. I go to buy my Metro ticket. I'm sanding idle waiting for the person in front of me. I can feel it. Beads of sweat marching like an army on a mission on their way from my butt, down my crotch and inevitability parachuting down to the ground for combat. I can imagine the pool below me forming and growing. It's of course not. My inner dialogue is that someone will say, "Ma'am I think your water broke." I start moving my legs and awkwardly adjusting so my underwear can soak up the sweat. The sweat dance. I should've worn the god damn bike shorts. What am I twelve though?
I am finally seated in the nice air conditioned train/subway (?). I'm pleased that I have some time to relax and get the sweating in check. Two stops later a middle aged guy asks if he can sit next to me. I gladly move over one seat offering him mine. He turns to me and says, "Were you sweating?"
OH MY FUCKING GOD HOW DOES HE KNOW?!
Me: Uhhh I don't know
Stranger: Oh it's just that it's damp. Do you feel that?
I feel the seat and honestly I don't feel any sweat M: I don't know
S: Are you sweating?
M: I walked a few miles to the Metro [that's a lie]. I was hustling.
The man starts to lean forward and adjust on the chair. Trying not let his back touch the seat. S: Yea, sorry it's just I don't want my clothes to get damp.
My sweat army is marching in full force. Panic mode has begun and I'm sweating even more. S: Are you having a good weekend?
M: [WTF] Yea I am. How about you?
S: Yea, but it could be better.
M: Oh, sorry to hear that.
S: Oh it's a good weekend. I mean just being unemployed and all.
I'm nodding along and thinking how the fuck did I get stuck talking to this guy?!
S: So where are you going?
M: A music festival Downtown.
S: Oh yea? What kind of music?
M: uhhh yea know rock... and... roll... all kinds of stuff
S: Oh cool. How old are you?
Do I lie? Do I say I'm younger? older? Is he going to kill me? M: 26
S: Oh. Are you from another state?
M: Nope. From California.
S: Sorry you're probably wondering why I'm asking all these questions. It's good to be social.
Dude I wrote the book on being social. I just don't want to fucking talk to you. I feel awkward as hell and why do I owe you the time of day? S: Did you see where Santa Monica was blocked off for [don't remember what he said]
M: No I didn't
S: Oh. You didn't?
I cross my leg the other way and their is a little bit of sweat from where my leg was. He reaches over and touches my thigh and says, "OMG you're sweating."
As if we hadn't ALREADY established that. I firmly say, "DON'T touch me." He then proceeded to apologize and claims he really hopes he accepts my apology. LEAVE ME ALONE.
He leaves a few stops before mine and I was fuming. I wrap my jacket around my waist fearing I might have a sweat stain on my butt. Oh and he told me doing that would make me sweat more. Thanks for the advice Stranger.
My Happy Place I finally get to the festival. Damp. I had some time to hang out under a tree to watch Father John Misty's set. I cooled down and was able to regroup alone. There is something kind of peaceful of watching a band by yourself. I later met up with some friends and we were able to relive our youth a bit to sets from Cursive and the Faint. I danced and bopped around not caring about any sweat. Good music and friends I felt OK to be my sweaty self.
I leave you with this awesome music video from Father John Misty. If you can see them live I recommend it. The frontman is a hippie character who moves like water on stage and provides the crowd with some great zingers.
I'm a little sweaty right now. If you're reading this, chances are you are too. I'm a 26 year old young professional living in Los Angeles and I have hyperhidrosis.
As I was drifting off to sleep last night I thought, "I should start a blog about me being a sweaty girl living in LA." Konk out. Wake up. It was the first thing I thought of when I woke up. Let's do this.
I haven't met a single soul who has this condition. Sure I've met people who sweat a lot but I've seen them all wear sandals. That's my true test for hyperhidrosis-- you are terrified to wear sandals. I want to meet people who have to alter almost every part of their lifestyle to accommodate for the fact that they sweat. I have to rely on reading what others with hyperhidrosis have to say on the internet. I want to connect with this world, add my two cents and hopefully contribute a few laughs.
My ideal setting is 65 degrees with a cool breeze. I don't care if I'm freezing. I'm just fucking ecstatic that I'm not sweating. My go to outfit is a pair of TOMS that can soak the sweat from my feet, jeans that never show a crotch stain, a tank top under my tshirt to wick away sweat and a cardigan to cover my pit stains. I NEVER wear grey. At the age of 19 I had endoscopic surgery to stop my hands from sweating. I now have the joy of horrendous compensation sweating. It's a trade off.
I'll share my embarrassing stories, tips for covering the sweat, and the inner dialogue of a fellow sweater. I'll try remedies and share the results. And, the fun part, sex and dating as a sweaty girl. My kind of a guy runs the air conditioner year-round. A fan in the bedroom is a must.
Above all else though, I want to talk to you. We each experience this shitty condition differently but it's nice to know we're not alone. Let's sweat through it.
Welcome! I'm Sara, and I started this blog a few years ago when I realized I had a sweaty story to share. Read through my trials and tribulations, daily musing, attempts to make you laugh and sound advice. Let's sweat through it.
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