BDD SUCKS

Overcoming Body Dysmorphic Disorder - My Story of Living With BDD

"It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see."
~ Henry David Thoreau

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This is the Story of My Life Living With Body Dysmorphic Disorder

Archives for July 2013

Before You Pull The Trigger – Try Putting the Gun Away

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Trigger: A small device that releases a spring or catch and so sets off a mechanism, esp. in order to fire a gun.

Pull-The-Trigger

I had to pull down the mirror in our bathroom last night.

That is truly a sad state of affairs. But I did this in an effort to remove my TRIGGERS:  Those things in my life that hold me back, that ruin my day, that work against me.

HOW TO FIND YOUR TRIGGERS

Finding triggers for BDD is simple. All you have to do is think about the times where you give into your obsessive and hateful self talk and then identify what you were doing right before that moment.

For me, my triggers are:

  1. In the car (I tend to look in the rear view mirror and check my scar)
  2. In car windows: I can see the atrophic nature of my scar even worse here, it is one of the most abusive acts I do to myself. But I still can’t stop.
  3. In other reflective surfaces such as laptops and cellphones: Just like car windows this reflective surface tends to over-accentuate my scar.
  4. In areas of commerce: I can’t go clothes shopping, because the overhead lights in combination with mirrors is the worst.
  5. Close up photos: Eek! I always focus on my facial defect.

The majority of my unhappiness with myself comes from ideals and expectations that are built upon fantasies. And I am aware of this. Yet the above triggers are aspects of the world I would be better without. But as you already know, this is usually an impossibility.

REMOVING TRIGGERS

As I mentioned, last night I took down our bathroom mirror. This involved a power driver and some precision. As I lifted it away and put it into storage I took one last hateful stare at myself. Took a deep breath, and let it go.

It felt good to put away that hateful mirror. It was like punching a bully in the face, and then sending him out to pasture.

My wife woke up the next morning with an empty wall, and my kids asked where the mirror had gone. I told my wife the truth, I haven’t told my kids anything.

IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT PEOPLE THINK

Framing-My-Self-Image

I tell my kids that it is not their job in life to gain the approval of others.

That they need to develop a strong identity, and self worth. One that is not based on the opinions of others, but grounded in the fact that they are unique, beautiful and perfect the way they are.

And here I sit.

It is a dichotomy that fails to cure. With BDD I can clearly understand the nature of contentment, yet I am unable to find a place for it in my own life.

YOU CAN’T CONTROL THE WORLD

Guess what, I can’t remove all the worlds mirrors, just as I can’t break all the windows in my car (although sometimes I want to).

And this may be where Body Dysmorphic Disorder is like an addiction.

If you are an alcoholic, you can stop drinking, but you can’t remove all the alcohol in the world. If you are a smoker, you can stop smoking but there will always be cigarettes.  If you are addicted to internet porn, you can stop frequenting your favorite adult websites, but there will always be another popup.

So removing triggers is not always a viable solution. But I do believe it can help.

I told my wife that my goal is to bring the mirror back.  And that may be a defining moment in my life. In fact now I am using it as a goal.

To bring the mirror back, to stare my “bully” in the eye and say fuck you, I love myself!

Best,

Stephen

DISQUIETING

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Forceful Feelings [1]

I can feel it on my face. The deep, open crevice of  my scar.

I can feel it stretching, tugging, retching.

For the first several months after the injury I attributed this to the process of healing and the formation of new cartilage. But now I know it is in my mind.

How do I know this?

Because I feel it at times when I am my most vulnerable, when I am my most self conscious.  Otherwise it is just there not bothering anyone.

We have been on vacation as a family for the 4th of July weekend. And here at the resort I have had a break from my scar.

I woke up twice this week and the thought didn’t even cross my mind, I just woke up, threw on a hat and interacted with the world.

And you know what? No one was horrified.

It wasn’t until I returned back to our room that I realized I had forgotten about my scar.

For the first time I didn’t notice peoples eyes gravitating towards it, for the first time I had a conversation without thinking about it.

SO HOW THE HELL DO I GET RID OF IT?

Disqueting

The thing that upsets me most about BDD is that no matter how much I know that it is in my mind, I cannot escape it.

Especially when I can actually feel it.

I was having a nice conversation at a nearby winery with my wife and a couple who was visiting the states from the Netherlands. It was at this point in time I could feel my scar, it started when I took my hat off, when I knew that my facial defect would catch the overhead lights. It is like a trigger for me.

And I could feel it tugging at me, I could feel all my self hate and all the emotion pouring into the scar. And it sat there like a curse on me. My thoughts wondered, I dodged the light and I scanned the faces of those around me. “Great” I thought, “they don’t seem to notice I must be OK.” So I reached for some more wine.

I am drinking it now as I write this, and alone, here in the hotel room I feel the relief that wine and seclusion can give me. A moment of calm… Disquieting.

THE GREAT ESCAPE

Solitude On Indigo Lake

Here on vacation, here at the lake life is slow. The days are hot, we just relax and take it all in.

I have had time to let my mind relax as well, to give all my attention to my family, where it belongs.

I wonder why my family still loves me with this scar, but I am ever more thankful. I am thankful for my wife’s love and my children’s hugs and kisses. I think about those who suffer from BDD who may lack this family support, and I worry about them.

Note: If this is you, please know that I love you, I hear your pain through these pages, and please know that there is healing for us, we will do this together.

I am thankful for these mornings when I wake up without the concerns that weigh me down constantly. It give me hope that somewhere in this mess there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

One where I will wake up and not judge myself so harshly.

One where I can live in the hearts and minds of others and away from the prison that is my mind, the gruesome tug of body dysmorphic disorder.