The first pore

     Have you ever flipped through a magazine solely to look at the perfect complexions the models have? Have you ever followed someone on Instagram because you liked their skin? Have you ever spent 4 hours in the mirror looking at every single pore on your face? I wish I could answer no to those questions. My name is Kylie and I am obsessed with perfect complexions.

I remember my first pimple... I was 14 years, a freshman in high-school. I knew what pimples were from my older brother (he had pretty bad acne) and he taught me that you could pop pimples to get the white yucky stuff out and then they would magically go away... if only it were that simple. I don’t just pop pimples, I destroy them until they leave a hole of shame and guilt in my face. This horrible reminder of what my fingers have done to my precious skin lasts with me for generally over a week. I will wear Band-Aids, makeup, hats, scarves, glasses and even face paint to save people’s eyes from viewing my hideous imperfections. I can definitely say I have gone to some dark and desperate extremes in attempt to cover up my skin imperfections.

As I grew older, my obsession also grew. It began to consume my life, and I am not exaggerating. It started out by missing school, sometimes weeks and then I missed an exam and then I avoided hanging out with friends and then I stopped going to work, etc... one time I had picked so badly I didn’t even want to open presents with my family on Christmas morning. So let’s just say my obsession of wanting airbrushed skin was out of reach and I couldn’t wrap my head around that, which drove me crazy (literally). My mom couldn’t bear to see me struggle anymore, she could see the life and future slipping away from her only daughter. That’s when my therapist and psychiatric journey began.

At first, I enjoyed talking to a therapist about this extremely bizarre obsession of mine. It gave me hope that maybe I could actually change and be “normal.” But as time went on and nothing changed besides the name of my therapist, I began to get tired of telling my story and hearing the same words, “Nobody cares about a pimple on your face, I don’t even see any pimples on your face!” It was beyond frustrating and embarrassing. I know nobody cares about a pimple on my face, that’s not the problem, the problem is how much I care.

I was diagnosed multiple times with either Obsessive Compulsive Disorder(OCD) or Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD).  For those of you who are unfamiliar with these terms, OCD can be defined as, “a mental disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, sensations (obsessions), and behaviors that drive them to do something over and over (compulsions).”  And BDD can be defined as, “a mental disorder in which people have a distorted or exaggerated view of how they look and are obsessed with actual physical characteristics or perceived flaws, such as a certain facial feature or imperfections of the skin. They often think of themselves as ugly or disfigured.” Both of these categories seemed accurate but after further research I discovered Dermatillomania which can be defined as, “a mental disorder in which an individual will repetitively and compulsively pick their skin which results in tissue damage." So after consulting with multiple therapists and Google, these terms now define me. 

So, this blog will be devoted to my struggle but also success with mental illness. Additionally, I consider myself a self-taught Dermatologist. The hours and hours of skin research I have done because of this disorder could potentially be considered one of the few benefits. So, this blog will undoubtedly contain a lot of information about skin health, skin products and skin tips/tricks. 

Slowly but surely, I am learning that there is nothing more beautiful than an imperfect complexion.