You know those times where technically everything is all right in your World, but you can’t help but feel dejected and miserable because one little thing is going wrong? That’s me right now.
So I do this thing that everyone seems to do in situations like this – I keep reminding myself of all that I have. It’s supposed to make you feel better or put life into perspective or something. Which means I start mentally ticking the things off the check list: good health, great husband, supportive family, healthy children blah blah blah. Don’t get me wrong, I am SO freaking grateful for every single one of those things and I try my hardest not to ever take any of them for granted.
The thing is, I have been struggling for a long time. Some of you, that have been following along over the years, will be familiar with my issues. Many of you suffer with it too. Any idea what I’m talking about?
I hear you, I hear you – “Cindy, stop being ridiculously cryptic and spit it out already!”
I’m talking about my skin again. I know, been there done that right? I also know that I have come a long way from what it used to look and feel like, to now. Technically, I should count my blessings, slap on a little (let’s be real – a LOT of) make up and move on with my life right? I mean, just not looking like this any more should be enough. Right? RIGHT?!
But it’s not.
Because little by little IT’S COMING BACK.
Every morning I have to look into the stupid mirror and all I see is more and more skin being converted into whatever the hell is wrong with me. Although it’s not this bad again yet, all I see that red, pimple covered face. It’s as burned into my eyeballs as my actual face used to burn with the pain of it.
As a result I literally feel terror rising up inside me every time I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. All I can think of, is that history is just about to repeat itself again. Tomorrow I’m going to wake up, look in the mirror and instead of just imagining this face being my current face, it really will be like that again. Seriously, I feel like if I keep going the way that I am now, it’ll be as bad as this in a few short months.
I’m ashamed to say that I cried all the way to work this morning. Why am I ashamed? Well, I’m ashamed that I am letting something so completely and utterly cosmetic affect me so deeply. I like to think that I am not a shallow individual but sherbit, maybe I am.
It’s not like I haven’t tried to sort it out. I have almost gone blind on roaccutane (TWICE), I religiously apply my prescribed creams and lotions and we spent a small fortune in dermatologist fees. For what? It’s not getting any better, it’s just getting worse.
So, what do you do when you feel like you have reached the end of the line?