[Xavier F]

Xavier F on January 9, 2016 at 5:38 am #3677

I’m at the wheel with a knot in my stomach.. I have a full car and sunlight is pouring in.. there’s nowhere I can hide my hands..They aren’t sweating yet, but I’ve learned a long time ago that this glimmer of hope that they stay dry is foolish.. I’ve already accepted the mess this will inevitably turn into..

I’ve got both hands on the wheel in the seven and four o’clock position, palms up, to absorb the whisper of the air-conditioning vents I’ve aimed right at them.. seven and four with my arms less active feels like if I melt into the seat, I can maybe transfer the relaxation through my arms and into my palms.. It just feels less…suffocating…than ten and two, which forces my body upright.. Sitting at attention like that somehow feels like I’m revving my internal engine harder when I should be doing everything I can to slow things down.. Every move and breath seems to fuel the rising muscle tension that will soon give way to the familiar tingling in my palms.. I already know agonizing over the perfect position and trying to breathe through this is hopeless, desperate even, but I have to give it a shot..

On cue, there’s the tingle.My palms feel so raw and sensitive against this wheel..I wish I could just stop using them and break away from the sickening feeling touching the wheel keeps me chained to.. Ok..relax..I need to get my mind off this puddling of sweat I can feel on the wheel and stay focused on the road…

..But how..this feels disgusting…It’s like a sauna in here..Why is the sunlight so bright..this is going to make the mess impossible to hide… There’s just no way they haven’t seen my palms glistening with sweat..mabye if I slide to ten and two along the wheel, I can hide with my palms down… I’ll have to do this carefully.. I need to wipe away all the sweat as I move my hands along the wheel..I don’t need a tell-tale trail with the sunlight pouring in and turning every stray drop into a screaming beacon…

Maybe if I move as little as possible, my mind will slow down.. maybe I’ll cool down a bit..it’s impossibly hot in here..Maybe if I use only my fingers on the wheel I can forget this sweaty mess..but that’ll look too awkward..it’ll be noticed right away..How is my heart beating so hard..it might burst right out of my chest…..Ok..breathe…

..But how..my chest and neck seem scared stiff…if I move to try and free my breath, the movement will only make me hotter and sweatier..or worse, my palms might be spotted… I dare not move…Is this air-conditioning even working..

I don’t even want to peek to confirm the slippery mess looks as bad as my palms squishing against the wheel feel… the last thing I want is my own glance giving me away.. I’ve worked so hard at orchestrating every excrutiating movement of my hands to avoid the wet wheel being spotted.. what’s the point of trying to hide anway..they must see the drops oozing off the wheel onto my thighs..they must see I’m melting down..they seem to be more focused on our conversation, but there’s no way they don’t see this..What are we even talking about..I hear myself responding, but surely they can see I’m more worried about my palms that this conversation I barely understand right now..

I’m all over the place..I just cannot..I cannot deal with having the next question be“ Is that sweat ?!” or “why are your hands sweating?” or “do you know your hands are sweating” or worst of all “why are you nervous?!” …Everything would come crashing down around me and I don’t know what I could possibly say in response..

I just need this drive to end so we can get out of the car.

•  
•  
•  
•  
•  
•  

Reply

[Gayle C.]

Gayle C. on January 27, 2016 at 5:44 am #3729

Hi Xavier,
I understand your sentiments and it’s so nice to talk to someone with excessive sweating. I have seen others but never spoke to them about it. You are right it affects everything we do and where we go. I sweat all over my body: head, hands and back though. I've had hyperhidrosis since I can remember, which is 3rd grade. I remember my hands would get moist and whenever people would touch it they would quickly remove their hands from mine. Not only is it my hand but its spread to my hands but my armpits and my feet. And I'm a girl so what kind a guy would want to date me? What sucks is I've had so many dates and I've had to reject so many guys because of my insecurity. I wish I could meet a guy with hyperhidrosis because i feel like we would both have this thing in common so it would help my insecurity but still. I'm now getting treatments. I'm going on medicines and thinking about ETS.
Gayle

•  
•  
•  
•  
•  
•  

Reply

[M.]

M. on February 4, 2016 at 3:20 am #3752

I have also suffered from excessive sweating of my hands and feet. It has always held me back socially and professionally. I have been using aluminium chloride anti perspirants and found a slight improvement but had to use it every night to make any difference. My problem almost disappears completely when I have had a few alcoholic drinks, my hands then become warm and dry but you can`t live your life intoxicated. I have also found that sugar also seems to make an improvement. I have found Electro Antiperspirant on the internet and decided to try it as last resort.

•  
•  
•  
•  
•  
•  

Reply

[Xavier F]

Xavier F on February 4, 2016 at 3:20 am #3750

Hi Gayle,

Thank you for taking the time to read and moreso, to respond with your own experience. I'm glad to hear my sentiments resonated with you. Funny you said that you can remember having it as far back as you remember because every time I think I've locked down the “beginning,” I seem to remember it going even further back, though the shattering experiences where someone pulls away as you described, are the “landmarks” by which I seem to define that beginning. With or without those experiences, this seems to go way way back.

I get what you mean about preemptive rejection, preemptive everything really, to pad myself against that next slap of humiliation lurking around every corner..

After meeting my now wife, all I could think about was the absolute humiliation to come at the wedding. What I will say was that the humiliation never came, the sweat never came. It isn't all gone now by any means, but I found the window and the way and I now know this IS something I, and everyone, anyone can control. I know that sounds as helpful as “just relax” or “anyone would be lucky to have you,” both of which are of course true, with the challenge being..how..how..how..

I'm working on putting my thoughts together coherently and the fact that my initial sharing rung true means a lot. I get wanting the ETS, but if you are in doubt, I hope you can hold off and watch this space for a few months while I pull this together. I've tried doing it briefly and quick, but it doesn't come through..I will share a few more thoughts I have ready shortly.

•  
•  
•  
•  
•  
•  

Reply

[Xavier F]

Xavier F on February 6, 2016 at 4:54 am #3761

M – Been there, I've walked through many a room clinging to a glass like a lifebuoy. The edge comes off with the booze and the chill of the glass..the plausible moisture it provides..if only walking around with a cold beer everywhere made sense..

Following on from my comments to Gayle, the next bit of my thoughts, to be read as a follow on to my first post. Thoughts appreciated greatly…

…………………………………………………………………

I replay the scene over and over, hoping to learn something from my memories, but I don’t think I’ve ever managed to pinpoint what I dread most about eventually and inescapably facing it as a reality again. Each time, I relive the exact same misery, and yet, it’s not easy to put my finger on exactly which possibility makes my insides twist most when I prepare to face what I know so well again.

Is it the despair of once again facing the reality of a lifetime of this torment?
Is it them seeing the glisten and dragging me into the conversation I least want to have?
Is it them spotting the drip and wanting no discussion, no explanation, but going straight to disgust?
Is it them noticing and saying nothing to spare my feelings? Does it even matter if their silence hides disgust, pity or curiousity?

Or is it my own disgust at not only catching glimpses of the horrible mess, but feeing my sloppy palms squelch around the wheel while I desperately try and pretend to be normal, to feel normal?

Ultimately, it’s being exposed and becoming the center of attention that would be most mortifying, but in scenarios like this one; at the wheel, at a keyboard, holding a pen, turning a page; scenarios where I can hide in plain sight, I’m not holding my breathe at the prospect of being outed by being touched. Here, there is no handshake coming and as plausible as it seems that at any moment, someone might reach out to touch my palms if they feel like their eyes are fooling them over how wet my hands look, the real chance of my cover being blown comes not from being felt, but from being seen. So that should be a good thing shouldn’t it? The pressure should be so much less than it is when I feel heat of walking into a room of handshakes where I wish I had the option to hide. When I know I can hide, I should eventually be able to relax shouldn’t I?

Easier thought than done.

When I have the beneift of hiding, I get to remember how hopeless it is to try and relax, to try and stop thinking about it. With each time I have my wet hands gripping the wheel, I become even more intimate with the physical realities of the downward spiral. Even when I know I won’t be touched, I feel myself uncontrollably getting wetter and wetter, sloppier and sloppier. Even in that safety, the second I forget myself, I’m brought rudely back to reality by the wet slapping on the wheel as I try to make a turn as quickly as possible and go back into hiding. Even in hiding, I get to feel how inescapably the spiral pulls me in.

But I know I can’t always hide. I know that the time where someone else will take the mess that I feel against the wheel in their hands while they look me in the eye will come soon enough. The feeling disgusts me. Why should anyone else feel any different? This is what I hate most about hiding in plain sight. I can never fool myself into thinking this won’t be worse when I cannot hide. I have to hide when I can and even in hiding I feel hopeless because it reminds me I cannot control this when it happens and I cannot pretend it isn’t disgusting. And it reminds me how much worse this will sting when someone eventually takes my hand.

Much like driving being poisoned, what can I take for granted anymore? Things are only easy and natural until the drowning begins. Then I’ll pretend all is well while I’m scheming and plotting four steps ahead, predicting everything coming, every move I’ll have to make; all chances for the glisten to be spotted. I have to know when to move, how to move, how quickly to move, how much to talk, how much to distract. Suddenly the easy and the natural starts to approach the unmanageable. Hiding in plain sight, scheming and hiding and hiding and scheming. Like a game within a game.

•  
•  
•  
•  
•  
•  

Reply