BDD Archives - BDD SUCKS

The Makings of BDD Part 2

June 29, 2015 By Stephen

When I was in high school the first dance I ever attended was during my sophomore year.

It was the winter formal and I was asked to attend with my friend as part of a double-blind date. Although it wasn’t placebo-controlled.

I was excited. I had never had a “real date” before and this was an opportunity to have a good time and get to know somebody new.

My friend assured me that my date was not only very nice but quite attractive. I don’t remember feeling nervous, I liked to dance, I considered myself a friendly person and figured we would have a good time together.

When we arrived I met Jackie. A knockout blond, with long slender legs and a beautiful winter formal dress. She was gorgeous. When we met she smiled casually, we took hands and jumped into the back seat of the limo Jamie’s parents had rented for the 4 of us.

We arrived at the gymnasium snapped some photos and then it happened. She ditched me.

Holy Zit

I remember having a big zit on my nose for the evening of the dance, I was self-conscious about it. It had started to appear the day before the dance and then on the big day it came out to play. I was angry at the powers that be for having to endure this large, red, painful blemish that would not only haunt me for the night but likely for the entirety of the upcoming month.

I was already very self-conscious about my acne and envied all the guys and girls with clear skin and great complexions. Especially all those attractive teenagers on the Clearasil commercials.

My date was one of them.

Jackie had a kind smile, she was naturally pretty and it never crossed my mind that when we got to the dance she would simply walk away and leave. My friend Jamie went with them, his girlfriend and my date were best friends after all, I didn’t blame him.

It felt horrible to be left behind like this, not necessarily because I was abandoned, but because I was abandoned before I had even had the chance to meet my date. She ditched me because I wasn’t up to her standards. In my mind, she ditched me for all the reasons I hated myself. My bad complexion, my big teeth, my funky hair, my short stature, my braces and most of all, that big zit on my nose.

I was relegated to the gymnasium bleachers to think carefully about my shortcomings as a human being.

It wasn’t the first time I had to sit by and watch the cool guys get the girls. As a nice guy I was always there, doing what nice guys do; keeping everyone else happy, smiling to the world outside, while inside I felt self-conscious and ashamed.

I did return with Jamie, his girlfriend and my “date” in the Limo later that night. Back at their house they were headed inside to play some drinking games. I didn’t drink so I called my mom and she came and picked me up.

I saw Jackie years later, she was a bridesmaid for one of my best friends weddings. I was serving as best man. We were both with groups of our high school friends. We talked and laughed and shared stories along with the other’s in the room. I am not sure she even remembered what she did that night years before.

But this incident solidified a feeling I had about myself already. It was the reality test and confirmation I needed to prove that my negative feelings towards myself were not merely assumptions, but they were, in fact, true.

Although I would go on to attend many more high school dances after this one, this, being my first, stuck. It is amazing how this incident from over 24 years ago still affects me today.

These, my friends, are the makings of BDD.

Read part 1: Acne and the makings of Body Dysmorphic Disorder

Selfie

October 22, 2014 By Stephen

I was at the falls with my kids.

The sun was pouring through the mist, the emerald green of the trees and bouncing of the lichen… it was spectacular.

I snapped some shots of the kids and then my daughter asked me to take a “selfie.”

So I leaned down and flipped the camera lens on my iPhone.

I am already in the habit of avoiding eye contact with the LCD screen.

I held it as far away as my arm could reach and I snapped two shots.

My daughter, as any 7 year old would, wanted to see our smiling portrait.

So I flipped around my phone, and tried not to look, but then I couldn’t stop myself. My eyes zeroing in on the biopsy scar on my nose.

My demons won’t leave me alone

I took my daughters hand, it felt so warm and cuddly and small.

We walked up the circular trail to meet my wife and son who had gone up a few moments earlier to use the restroom.

I started to feel the scars, my nose, my cheek. I said I had to go the restroom (although not really) I had to check a mirror to see if it really was like the picture registered it. It felt to me like they were transforming, possibly growing.

The lighting was better in the bathroom, I quickly put my cap back on my head.

We made it to the car, where I saw in the window my reflection with the deep sunken scar on my cheek.

And then I fell apart inside, I felt despair, helplessness and hopelessness.

I started to feel anger toward the dermatology PA who cut my nose apart, I felt anger at myself for going surfing and not protecting my face when I surfaced.

I started to feel ugly, monstrous, and it hasn’t gone away. I feel my scars again tonight.

Santa Clause is coming to town

I dream of waking up one day with these scars gone.

Going back to my previous life when they weren’t part of my life.

If I could just live in that person’s body for a couple days, I promise I wouldn’t take it for granted.

But we don’t know what we have till it’s gone, and then it is too late.

When I woke up today in the cabin and used the restroom I glanced in the mirror. The restroom was poorly lit, without direct overhead lighting and because of this, my sunken scars looked fine, I felt good about myself.

Then the camera revealed the truth? Or is this a deception. I just don’t know anymore.

* PS, I found this Wikipidea entry when I was Googling how to spell “selfie: In April 2014, a man diagnosed with body dysmorphic disorder recounted spending ten hours a day attempting to take the “right” selfie, attempting suicide after failing to produce what he perceived to be the perfect selfie.^[66] The same month brought several scholarly publications linking excessive selfie posting with body dysmorphic disorde

Does BDD run in Families?

October 13, 2014 By Stephen

My body image concerns started at a young age when I struggled with acne, but my lack of confidence began way before this.

I remember a friend of mine in grade school making some off-handed comment about a generic Yankees baseball cap I was wearing and I felt self conscious for months.

I felt the same way about my hair, my clothes, my personality.

My grandmother may have had BDD.

She didn’t like to leave the house, she walked with her head down and she never would take photographs.

I never made much of this until the other day, I started to think about where my BDD may have come from, and if this could be an inherited trait.

I started to worry about my children.

Depression appears to have a strong genetic component possibly multiplied by a factor of 3 if you have a close relative with the condition.

What about Body Dysmorphic Disorder? Does it run in families?

Because BDD is not talked about as much and those who have it tend not to share their concerns, or identify it as such, it’s inheritance patterns are likely to go unnoticed.

This I am sure will change with time.

Last year, I swore there was a girl at my gym with BDD, or maybe I was simply trying to find somebody else to relate to. But I picked up on certain patterns.

She would obsess over mirrors and seem to avoid them at the same time. She was fit, but self conscious, she appeared a bit nervous and anxious. I saw myself in her.

How much of this did I put upon her to make myself feel better? I will never know, but it is the first time I realized that I may be able to spot people with BDD.

So I started looking.

It is hard to find, many are models, lawyers and doctors, people you would never suspect to have it.

Can you spot people with BDD? Can you see it in yourself? Do you suspect a family member of yours may have had it?
photo credit: Pulpolux

Change is Going to Come

September 25, 2014 By Stephen

Here is something that may not surprise you.

Things don’t change on their own, you have to change with them, or maybe more like – you have to change for them… to change that is.

6 weeks into our around the world adventure and I found myself slipping into the doldrums of self-hate and isolation.

It took something to set me off, in this case, it was a mild head cold, followed by a rather intense week with our 6-year-old.

I guess we were both grieving.

I hide it well right? They don’t see me, they don’t know I have this obnoxious illness called BDD?

I am certain that they will figure it out sometime. Maybe when they are older and they wonder why dad doesn’t look into mirrors or try clothes on. Or why dad is afraid of getting a hair cut.

Speaking of which, my hair is very long now, as I haven’t been able to get up the confidence to sit in the mirror to get it cut.

I dabbed some makeup on my nose today and felt better, the depressions lasted one day this time, that was fast I thought, what a difference a day makes.

A Change is Going to Come

I have had a bit of a transition.

I have been swimming in the pool, talking with strangers and sometimes even forgetting about my facial deformity. Well not completely but at least long enough to enjoy a few moments of mental peace and quiet.

A few sunsets, a few morning runs, a cool breeze.

Life outside of isolation has been good for me.

On good days, out with the family, out for dinner, interacting with the world I feel human again.

This trip was a good idea, it is making a difference, 6 weeks in… Not bad, but can it last?

From the road

September 8, 2014 By Stephen

I shouldn’t have taken the Ambien…

It never leads to a good nights sleep.

30 days on the road and I am left with a feeling of emptiness, something must be wrong, everything seems wrong. But that is because I hate myself. I cannot stand the way I look in the mirror.

No matter what I do, the disease seems to own me. It has now taken every last bit of my soul.

I thought I had the strength to overcome this BDD, but now I am doubting my optimism.

2 years and nothing seem better, I have left it all behind and still nothing is better.

It’s an empty, cold, and heartless place…. That is BDD, and it is everywhere.