Something’s been getting me down a bit recently.
OK, not down. I wouldn’t say I’m miserable because of it. I’m just aware. And, dare I say it, a little (a lot) insecure.
I try not to let insecurities affect me. But I’m human. We all have them. We all have those things we dislike about ourselves or perhaps make us anxious.
Yeah, I’m not exactly over the moon with my body at the moment but I wouldn’t necessarily call it an insecurity. It’s just something I’d like to change but am far too lazy/too much of a junk food lover to do anything about it.
The ‘thing’ that is making me insecure at the moment appears to be something out of my control. It also appears to be getting worse by the day and I’m really not too sure why.
I appear to be suffering from adult acne.
I’ve always had relatively greasy skin. Or, perhaps the more technical term for it is combination skin. Sometimes too oily, other times too dry.
I’m not someone who really looks after my skin. Aside from my long standing fake tan routine, I don’t particularly do much to maintain my skincare. But this has always been the case. Nothing has changed.
I’ve not changed any face wash I use. My brand of face wipes has been the same since I was about 24. In fact, I wear less make up these days than ever before. However, none of this can detract from the fact my face (and my neck) is beginning to resemble a complicated dot to dot puzzle.
I hate it.
It feels like a new boil is rearing its angry, ugly head hourly at present.
Every time I look in the mirror I see one I didn’t recognise an hour previous. My neck feels horrible. My jaw line feels disgusting. And, you know what? It hurts. Sometimes I can feel certain parts of my spotty face hurting, through the pressure of the spots.
The problem with me is, to add insult to injury. I’m a squeezer. Perhaps this is TMI for some of you (I am an over sharer, never forget this fact), but I do love a good old squeeze. In my naivety, I think I’m doing the right thing. Although speak to anyone with an ounce of common sense and they’ll say it does the opposite.
I’m 31. My skin is a million times worse than it was 15 years ago.
OK, so I’ve never had the perfect skin. My skin has never been flawless. But it’s never been as bad as it is right now.
Each morning, when I wake up, I’m fingering my face to see how many of the ugly boils have decided to take up residence on my already blemish ridden face. This probably only stands to make things worse, dirty fingers (not like that you filthy lot) will make a dirty face. But I want to know what I’m dealing with. I want to know how much toothpaste I’m going to be applying to my face, in the vain hope of eradicating each of these facial eruptions.
I never thought I’d be in my thirties and have a face and neck full of boils. These bastards even get on the back of my neck. They’re even multiplying behind my ears. What’s all that about?
Sometimes, I think it’s hormonal. I’m particularly pimply the week before my period is due. This has been the case since my early teens, but even now, 10 days or so after the first day of my last period, these spots are picking up the pace. I’m not on any hormonal contraceptive so it can’t be that. I drink a shit load of water so surely that helps? And OK, whilst I do enjoy my junk food, again that’s nothing new. I even packed in the fags last year and that seems to have had zero positive impact on my skin.
I like to look nice. My appearance is important to me. It helps me feel confident and improves my motivation. But, right now, when it comes to my skin my confidence is really not great. It isn’t even about what other people think or if they notice. That doesn’t bother me. It’s what I see in the mirror whenever I’m standing in front of it. It’s how my face feels when I’m washing it in the morning. Those are the things that have an effect on me.