Mental horror of physical scars

Hello beautiful souls

This story began four years ago when my late teenage years were plagued by the onset of acne. At first, I dismissed the breakouts as a temporary inconvenience, assuming they would fade away with time. However, as the months went by, my acne worsened, transforming into a painful and relentless condition known as cystic acne. This inflammatory type caused deep, pus-filled pimples that seemed to take root beneath my skin. It became apparent that I had to take this issue seriously, but by then, it felt like it was too late.

Within a span of three to four months, my face became a canvas of various types of acne scars. Rolling scars, ice-pick scars, box scars, and hypertrophic scars marked my once-smooth skin. Looking at my reflection in the mirror became an agonizing experience. It felt as if someone had taken a searing hot iron and branded my face, leaving it pockmarked and scarred. The emotional toll was just as significant as the physical pain. people's attitudes toward me began to change, and cruel jokes about my appearance became commonplace, even from those who were meant to be closest to me. I vividly remember a relative's hurtful remark, "I used to find you cute when you were small, but now...... never mind." That incident became a turning point for me, igniting a fire within me to strive for self-improvement.

I made a decision to focus on my overall well-being, starting with exercise. Through dedication and perseverance, I managed to achieve a healthier body weight, shedding 20 kilograms in the process. However, despite these positive changes, I still couldn't bear to confront my own reflection. The scars on my face had become a constant reminder of my perceived flaws and insecurities.

Against the wishes of my family, I mustered the courage to seek professional help from a dermatologist. She recommended a procedure called PRP+dermarolling, Which involved using plasma with a higher platelet concentration than regular blood, combined with dermarolling to stimulate collagen production. The treatment was excruciatingly painful, almost resembling a form of torture, but I endured it in the hope of healing my scars. It took a total of six procedures to achieve a 40 to 50 percent improvement in the appearance of my scars. Unfortunately, due to financial constraints, I am currently unable to afford any additional treatments.

However, even after four years, the emotional wounds remain. I still feel a sense of inadequacy and anxiety, as if my journey is far from complete. Despite recently completing my bachelor's degree, my mental health issues, including anxiety, depression, and schizophrenia, have hindered my progress. Life has thrown numerous adversities my way, including bullying, physical abuse, and sexual abuse. Yet, amidst the darkness, I remain determined to find the strength to live and embrace life.

Along this challenging path, I have encountered many beautiful souls and made some wonderful friends. They have shown me kindness and acceptance, despite never having seen my true face. I have always hidden behind a mask literally and metaphorically. Even when eating, I keep my mask on, unwilling to expose my scars and vulnerabilities. To those dear friends whom I affectionately refer to as my "dumplings," I owe you my deepest gratitude for your unwavering support.

Today, as I share my story, I acknowledge the pain and the resilience that resides within me. I am a survivor, scarred but not defeated. I know that true healing encompasses more than just the physical aspect. It requires the courage to confront our deepest insecurities and the willingness to seek help and support. As I continue on this journey, I hope to find the strength to unmask myself, to reveal my truth.

Thank you.