This is my story...

  • Eczema from Childhood to Early 20s

    Hi, my name is Nick. I’ve had eczema and allergies—both food and environmental—since I was a baby. My earliest memories are filled with discomfort, pain, and constant itching. My mum was my biggest support. She spent countless nights awake with me, hearing me scream and cry in distress. Desperate for relief, she took me to doctors, hospitals, and specialists again and again.

    The only answer they ever gave was steroids.

    So many steroids. Creams, ointments, oral medications like Prednisolone, and even steroid eye drops when I developed pressure in my eyes—doctors warned I could go blind without them. I was also put through wet wraps, red light therapy, saltwater baths… anything that might help soothe the endless inflammation.

    As a toddler, I was diagnosed as anaphylactic to nuts and seafood, and over time, I also reacted to dairy, eggs, and environmental triggers. My hay fever was relentless. I always seemed to be “that sick kid”—sneezing, scratching, red-eyed and exhausted.

    At school, I felt different. My skin was “weird,” flaky, and inflamed. Kids would stare or ask questions, sometimes out of curiosity, other times out of cruelty. I wore long sleeves to hide my skin and avoided activities that would make me sweat and trigger more flare-ups. I felt like an outsider in my own body.

    By high school, my eczema had settled a little—it mainly appeared behind my knees and elbows—but I still relied on steroid creams to keep it at bay. I didn’t know any other way.

    What I didn’t realise was that behind the scenes, my body was already dependent. And the steroids, instead of healing me, were just pushing the symptoms deeper.

    To make things worse, I lived in a house with hidden mould for over 15 years. At the time, we had no idea how badly it was affecting my health, but in hindsight, I believe it played a huge role in keeping my immune system constantly inflamed and my skin in survival mode.

  • The Beginning of the End – When Eczema Took Over

    In my 20s and early 30s, my skin took a turn for the worse.
    The small patches of eczema that I once had under control started spreading
    aggressively. It was no longer just in the usual places—it began appearing on
    my face, neck, arms, and torso. The creams that had once provided relief now barely made a difference.

    A seemingly harmless trip to Fiji in 2018 triggered a massive flare-up. My skin erupted like never before. I increased my steroid use, desperately trying to calm it down. When the usual creams didn’t work, I was prescribed stronger ones that still didn't work, following Elidel,
    Tacrolimus, and Protopic. They were supposed to be alternatives to steroids,
    but they didn’t heal me either. Instead, my skin became more sensitive, more
    reactive, and more fragile.  

    I was so ashamed of how I looked that I covered myself from head to toe—even in the blistering, tropical heat of Fiji. I wore long sleeves and jeans in 30+ degree humidity, drenched in sweat, desperately trying to hide my skin.

    It was humiliating, physically suffocating, and emotionally soul crushing.

    I remember feeling trapped in my own body—burning hot, itchy, and exhausted—while everyone else wore singlets and shorts, enjoying the sun. I wanted to disappear.

    That trip broke something in me. It was the beginning of the end. By 2019, I was stuck in a vicious cycle—apply creams, feel temporary relief, flare again. My body was completely dependent on steroids… and I had no idea.

  • 2020 – Discovering TSW and Taking the Leap

    By the end of 2020, my partner and I had hit rock bottom. I was in a dark place—physically, mentally, and emotionally. My skin was worse than ever: raw, inflamed, constantly flaring. Nothing was working anymore. Every cream, every treatment, every promise of relief had failed me.

    My partner, desperate to find answers, threw herself into research like her life depended on it—because mine did. She spent every waking second reading books, scouring Facebook groups, watching YouTube videos, and going deep into the world of Dr. Google. She joined forums, reached out to strangers online, and pieced together every clue she could find. But back then, there was barely any information available. TSW was not something doctors talked about. It was buried in the shadows of online communities.

    Then one night, we stumbled upon a word that would change everything:

    Topical Steroid Withdrawal (TSW).

    At first, we were terrified. The stories were brutal—people describing months or even years of unimaginable withdrawal symptoms: burning, oozing, skin peeling in sheets, insomnia, nerve pain, mental breakdowns. Some had been suffering for over five years with no end in sight.

    We spent two months going back and forth. Could I survive this? Could I endure something that had no timeline, no roadmap, and no real medical support? Could I handle the pain, the isolation, the unknown?

    But deep down, we knew the truth: we had no other choice.

    Dermatologists kept pushing more steroids, stronger creams, and immune-suppressing medications. But none of it addressed the root cause. We didn’t want another band-aid—we wanted real healing. We wanted my body to be
    free.

    So, in late 2020, I made the scariest, most important decision of my life:

    No more steroids. No more lies. No more quick fixes.

    It was time to face the storm head-on.

  • 2021 – The Year of Hell

    Nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared us for what came next.

    As soon as I stopped steroids, my body went into complete shock. It felt like it turned against me. My skin didn’t just flare — it exploded.
    I was red, inflamed, burning from head to toe. The itch was like nothing I’d
    ever felt before — relentless, deep, maddening. My skin cracked, oozed, bled. I was covered in open wounds. Every step, every breath, hurt.

    I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t move. I couldn't function as a human being.

    Every morning, I peeled myself out of bloodied sheets. Every night, I lay there wide awake, silently screaming in pain, drenched in sweat, with no escape from the burning, stinging, itching hell I was trapped in.

    And while I was crumbling, my partner went to war for me.

    She became my nurse, my cook, my support system, my lifeline. She took over everything—cleaning, cooking, shopping, working. And somehow, through it all, she never gave up on me.

    She would sit up beside me while I shook from pain, gently applying creams to my open skin with tears in her eyes. She’d sleep on the floor next to the bed when I couldn’t stop scratching, holding my hand through the night.

    She researched everything—Chinese medicine, detox protocols, gut healing, mineral baths, fungal infections, lymphatic drainage. She refused to
    believe this was how my life was meant to be.

    I was physically falling apart… and she carried us both.

    My mental health hit rock bottom. I felt hopeless, humiliated, and completely alone in a world that didn’t understand. But she stood in that fire with me. When I couldn’t believe in myself anymore, she
    believed enough for both of us    .

  • 2022 – Small Signs of Recovery

    By 2022, tiny improvements began to show. The flares became less frequent. My body—slowly, painfully—started to repair itself. But it was far from over.

    My immune system was shot. Infections became constant. My groin developed open wounds that wouldn’t heal, making everyday life unbearable. Just sitting or walking became a nightmare.

    We tried everything: antifungals, antibiotics, coal tar, Vaseline, bandages. Nothing worked.

    Doctors shrugged their shoulders. Once again, they had no answers.

    But we kept going. Together.

  • 2023 – A Major Setback

    By mid-2023, we thought we were finally turning a corner. My skin had cleared everywhere—except my groin. We felt like survivors. So after years of isolation and lockdown in Melbourne, we booked a few trips. We finally felt free.

    But I let my guard down. I ate foods I shouldn’t have. We traveled too much. And my body punished me.

    My legs became re-infected. The wounds in my groin reopened and worsened. I had to wear non-stick medical dressings in my underwear because the skin would glue itself together and tear apart when I moved.

    The pain? Beyond words.

    The heartbreak? Even worse.

    After everything… we were back in the trenches.

  • 2024 – When we Both Broke.... and Rebuilt

    By early 2024, I hit breaking point.

    My entire body was shutting down.

    I was covered head to toe in staph infection—oozing, cracked, and raw. My skin wept constantly. The wounds wouldn’t close. My sheets stuck to my body each night, soaked with blood, fluid, and pain. I couldn’t shower—even a single drop of water felt like acid. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t work. I could barely walk. I couldn’t even sit without agony.

    I was in survival mode.

    I lay on the bed that we placed on the lounge room floor for hours, scratching
    uncontrollably, sobbing, shaking, lost inside a pain that never stopped.

    I felt hopeless. Broken. Done.

    There were moments I genuinely didn’t know if I would survive.

    Moments where the darkness took over.

    Moments I wanted to disappear—just to make the suffering end.

    In April, I ended up in the emergency room. I was barely hanging on.

    And still, all they offered me were the same tired answers:

    Antibiotics. Steroids.

    I looked at them and said, “No. Never again.”

    But this wasn’t just my breaking point. It
    was ours.

    The stress of carrying me through this nightmare took a heavy toll on my partner too.

    She developed dyshidrotic eczema on her hands—painful, cracked, blistered skin that made even simple tasks agonising.

    And from the emotional weight of it all, she started losing patches of hair from the stress.

    Her body was breaking down too—but she never showed it. She kept going.

    She held me when I collapsed. She cooked every meal. She researched. She
    protected me. And she quietly suffered alongside me.

    That was the moment we decided: we’re done waiting for someone to fix this. We’ll fix it ourselves.

    So we went all in.

    We rebuilt my life from the inside out.

    We eliminated all processed food and potential triggers.

    My partner’s cooking became my greatest medicine. She crafted every meal with care—gut-healing, immune-boosting, anti-inflammatory. She never missed a beat. Not once.

    And we developed rituals that helped keep me afloat.

    Healing salt baths—sometimes twice a day—to calm my burning skin.

    Apple cider vinegar compresses to treat the infection—painful at first, but they helped stop the staph from spreading and gave me some relief.

    We supported my liver. We focused on nervous system healing. We did the hard, invisible work.

    And slowly… my body began to respond.

    The flares became gentler. The oozing stopped. The wounds started to close.

    I started sleeping. Walking. Smiling again.

    By July 2024, I looked at myself in the mirror—skin clear, body calm, heart full—and I cried.

    I was eczema-free.

    But more than that—I was alive.

    I had come back to life.

    This time, it wasn’t a surface-level fix.

    This was real.

    This was healing.

  • Life After TSW – Finally Free

    For the first time in my life, I feel free. No more steroids. No more eczema controlling my life. No more missing out on experiences because of my skin.

    I built this platform to share my story, our healing recipes, and everything we’ve discovered through years of trial, tears, and determination.

    And we’ll be continually adding products we genuinely believe in—tools that supported my healing and can support yours too.

    "If you're dealing with TSW, skin, or gut issues—or even just thinking about starting your healing journey—know this: it's tough, but healing is possible, and what's waiting on the other side can truly change your life."

    My Partner and I truly believe the gut is the key to Health. If my journey can help even one person take back control of their life, then every struggle was worth it.

    You are not alone!!!

    And you can heal!!!