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I stare intently into my bathroom mirror, stained with emissions from past sessions, at the microscopic fleshy masses that have caused me this pain. This is the part that feels so good. I have a mission and it’s very clear. I have to eliminate whatever has taken up residence within each and every pore. I must choke them to within an inch of their lives, but I must stop before I see blood. It’s a very delicate situation much like surgery. I reassure myself, tweezers in hand that this is what I have to do. If I don’t I’ll die or worse I’ll have another attack where my heart zips around in my chest like a rocket and my breathing slows to an erratic pulse. I don’t like that feeling and I definitely can’t have another one of those again. Besides, I’ve got things to do; my favorite show is on and I have to return my stack of library books that are six weeks overdue and I want to brush my teeth and eat.

I’m back to the mirror again. All I see is ugliness where there once was perfection. Massive pores open and inviting, tempting me to squeeze, litter my face. They’re on my nose. They’re on my cheeks. They’re on my chin and all I can think about is pressing two ruthlessly eager fingertips betwixt them. I’m crying now, yet I feel fantastic. It’s cathartic. Little waiflike tears drip slowly into the creases of my face and find their way to my mouth. I love the way tears taste. They remind me of the way things used to be before I had these missions. Nevertheless, I continue compressing the shit out of the hollow of my cheek. Before, there was nothing there but I could feel it. I could feel it dying to come to the surface, taunting me. I hate this part of my face. It makes for the biggest and most tedious extractions. Finally, what was trying to come to the surface does. But it’s not what I wanted. It’s not what I needed it to be. It’s just pus and now I'm crying even more because I know, I know in my heart that I’ve messed up. I’ve fucked up. I’ve ruined the mission but I can’t abort because there’s more work to be done. I haven’t got to the other side. I try and convince myself that the other side will be better. What I want will come and then I can stop.

The next cheek with its remnants of last weeks mission still fresh makes an even more difficult target. I decide that my forehead is the next best thing and proceed to dig my index fingernail into every bump that I can feel. As I scrape along blood, yes blood makes an entrance and now I can’t make it stop. The blood won’t stop and neither will my fingers. They begin to peel of old scabs, new scabs, good skin, bad skin, my forehead is a war zone. I’ve pressed too hard and my face has exploded in anger. It’s covered in spots of cherry red. It’s inflamed and hissing back at me.

“Fuck you!� I yell.

And then it’s over. I have no desire to continue. It's been 2 hours and I’m satiated.

My mission is complete.

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yeh i believe you. i use to take a bath in hot water, and than i come out, fold my cheek and it was like my face getting attacked by multiple bombs.

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yeh, hold the tp and bottum part and squeeze and push the middle in with your index finger and tada, folded your cheeks

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Guest OrangeFlower

why were you crying?

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Lauryn you are such a good writer. Even thought it's acne related, I really enjoyed reading that. It was like reading a piece of art.

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you have to stop picking at them, squeezing them, tweezing them. First of all, even dermatologists don't use dirty tweezers to go into their patient's acne. I am begging you, you are doing yourself so much more harm than good by treating your face as your own surgical guinae pig. who are you, dr. koop? you have no idea how to extact a pimple, so FIGHT THE TEMPTATION AND STOP!! Are you on Accutane? Have you asked your derm or doctor for a short tem perscription of prendisone? this condition is more physiological than we want to believe. once it is on our face, there's little we can do. But, using ice daily, for a short run over the spots may help.

I know you are saddened by the acne. I live the same thing every day. BUT I never squeeze, touch or probe. That will lead to scars, you know? I would sooner cover it with white benzoyl peroxzide than squeeze. I am begining to think accutane is the only way out of acne, at all. That goes for all of us

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thanks

its nuthin big at all

my hubby and i are broke so we're staying home watching a&e

not that i would go out anyway

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Guest Amy Lee
Is this you...? The beautiful and bald one?

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