It starts with a sneeze. A slight tickle of the nose. An un-itchable itch plaguing your eyes and your throat. Bloodshot, oozy, seeping, sniffling; it’s like something from a horror movie. Things that should be enjoyed in these summer months become a source of fear: your family BBQ, a picnic with friends, camping trips, holidays and festivals, all spoiled by an extremely inconvenient allergy. There is no sense to this hardship, nor is there anyone to blame. It is not severe enough to be a legitimate health concern, and yet is sufficient in being a real pain in the arse (or more accurately, nose). A battle of flora and fauna with no winner.

As a sufferer myself, I hope we can come together and express our hatred at this year’s high pollen counts. If the loratadine isn’t working, at the very least, I would like to find camaraderie amongst my people. Here is my hay fever rant – feel free to share yours too.

“A battle of flora and fauna with no winner”

Every year I fall into the trap of thinking I have grown out of it. Spoiler alert: I haven’t. This year in particular has hit me like a truck. One day I’m completely fine, the next, the sneezing just won’t stop. The day after, my eyes are so swollen that when I wake up, I have to try and pry them open. The day after that I’m rubbing my ears like a mad woman trying to make my throat stop itching, and so on and so forth, the cycle repeats. But I can’t complain – it used to be much worse…

When I was in Year Two, my teacher started keeping a bucket of water at the back of the room so I could rinse my eyes throughout the day. Some of my earliest memories include being called to the school office at lunch time for a teacher to give me my eyedrops. They even let me wear sunglasses for outdoor play! Back then, I quite liked getting special attention for my hay fever. It was cool to have something that differentiated me from everyone else (even if it was snot and sneezes that made me special). Maybe I’m looking back at these memories with rose-tinted glasses. I am sure it was just as infuriating then as it is now, however I definitely got a lot more sympathy as a child. Apparently once you turn 16 everyone stops caring about your sniffling – it’s one of the many trials of adulthood we must learn to accept…

As I progressed through school, my hay fever became much more inconvenient. Instead of rocking sunglasses on the trim trail, I was now facing end of year exams with my eyes swollen shut and tissues stuffed up my nose. When you’re pushed for time as it is, stopping to blow your nose every five minutes is really not ideal. Shoutout to Mrs Shoesmith who used to stand next to my desk with a box of tissues – you were a real one.

“It was cool to have something that differentiated me from everyone else (even if it was snot and sneezes that made me special)”

And don’t even get me started on the sneezing. I can’t fathom how people can sneeze so delicately with little to no noise. I try my best, but every time it’s like firing a gun – loud and explosive, sending my body back with the recoil. I’ve pulled muscles sneezing. Now, imagine that in a large, deathly silent room. Hearing it echo around the exam hall is not an experience I would wish on anyone.

Since being at university, the suffering is usually limited to a week or so. I’m not sure if I should thank the library for trapping me inside all term or my body for finally getting a grip, but hay fever season is now at least bearable. However, I will say, hay fever knows exactly when to turn up to spoil my fun. Last year after my exams, I travelled all the way to Newcastle to see Sam Fender at St James’ Park. Unfortunately, for most of his performance I was dealing with what I like to call a ‘pollen attack’, which made it rather hard to sing along.

This year all I wanted to do after I had finished exams was sit peacefully in the botanical gardens, sun warming my face, book in my hand. Yes, I know what you are thinking. Why would you go to the botanical gardens, known for their huge variety of pollen-producing plants? Surely sitting amongst these pollen-producing plants all day is a seriously bad idea for someone inflicted with such a curse as hay fever like you are? Of course, you are completely valid in your judgement, however, as I have alluded to, I am in denial. Unsurprisingly, the plan to relax and read quickly devolved into chaos and I retreated after a mere half hour. Will I try again? Definitely – hope is all I have.

I am increasingly aware that this has become a bit of a sob story. I am not writing this for sympathy (yes I am) but instead I hope I have found an audience who can relate to my pain. The scientists among you will approach me with all the rational answers to my hay fever problems. Thanks but no thanks; I have heard these so called ‘answers’ time and time again. Could they work? Quite possibly. Will I refuse them? Yes. In my mind, and in the mind of all hay fever sufferers, this is a pain that we must suffer and a pain which we can very easily endure for the sake of a good time and a bit of sympathy. It is a badge we hold with pride. We will never fail to bring it up, and we will never fail to complain about it. In this life, I will always and forever be a hay fever girl.