I have made some posts here last year about my acne scars. I showed pictures of my bare face and pictures where the lighting accentuated my acne. I spoke of seeing a dermatologist and having a treatment set in place. Then I vanished.
Well, I went through a lot of life changes, quit one job out of my two, became unbearably broke, picked up another shitty job, became depressed/overworked/stressed and decided to move my entire life to New Jersey. My skin and treatment have all but gone out the window and now have to start all over with a new dermatologist.
Anyway, my life has been so much better since I moved and I am happy---sort of. I hate that about acne. How you can't even be ALL-THE-WAY happy. How many times have I been laughing, full of optimism and then casually turned and caught a glimpse in the mirror and my smile just gets instantly wiped off my face and I remain unenthusiastic and weary the rest of the day.
My skin has the kind of scarring where in some lighting it looks non-existent, but as soon as you get me in harsh lighting (overcast daylight, direct sunlight, overhead florescent, etc) or basically anything that isn't freaking CANDLELIGHT, I look disfigured. I actually feel I look disfigured.
It's driving me absolutely insane. I am 23 and want to have a boyfriend and a LIFE, but I can't. You know why? Because I cannot mentally handle having a boyfriend or anything of that nature without first getting my skin to a place where I am comfortable it looks good enough. And getting my skin to that point is taking years---will probably take more years. It's CUTTING huge chunks out of my YOUTH.
My skin looks awful. I know people are not all nasty and shallow---but come on. Even I have a hard time really looking at my skin without wanting to look away. No one wants to have a girlfriend, friend or coworker who has a marred, damaged face. It's uncomfortable. I desperately try to ignore it or overlook it or live with it, but I can't. Today I can't. I try SO hard to make sure my hair is nice, my makeup is nice, my clothes are nice, my nails, be clean, well-groomed, make sure I decorate and surround myself with pretty things, all to make up for my skin. It's like an apology, like "Sorry you have to look at my disgusting skin, at least the rest of me is okay, right?". It's humilating. There's no sugarcoating. I actually hate myself, just because of this fucking shit.
I am finding a new dermatologist soon. I really don't have much hope, but for now the ATTEMPT to do something gives me a little boost. For now.
Here's why I can feel pretty one minute and the next feel like I got punched in the face with reality:
First pic is my skin out of direct lighting.
Second is me taking ONE step forward so I am directly under the light.