Facial Scar Archives

Sometimes I just can’t believe it happened: The scar, the injury, the entire incident.

It doesn’t seem fair, but then again, life often isn’t. And we just have to accept these things as they are.

ON THE ROAD

I am away from home, on the road, in a hotel room. Alone with mirrors and overhead lights. I am around those looking to network, and I am again ashamed, disgusted with myself and wishing to crawl into a hole.

How long can I exist like this? I have to ask myself, because it seems already it has been and insufferable amount of time.

I have been researching scar revision surgery and have decided it is ultimately my best option. And, for this I had to consult with my wife, she just nods and is accepting. But this doesn’t help me decide if my desires for scar revision are based on the scar, or my perception of it.

And this is where BDD seems to have me. The inability to separate my truth from reality, and the awareness of this kills me. I just don’t know if this is vanity or not.

I scan everyone I see trying to find some type of imperfections in their face. I see none, but every-time I enter a bathroom with that overhead light I have to duck, and hide from the mirror. I have to dodge the glances of other peoples eyes, I have to hide here in my hotel room.

THIS IS NO WAY TO LIVE

I have tried SSRI’s and this made matters worse. It is time to seek counsel I presume, maybe I will do this as part of my workup to surgery. My greatest fear is that the surgery will not provide me with the results I desire, and from that point I don’t know where or how to proceed.

I can tell you one thing, I hope never again to feel suicidal, although I can feel those thoughts pouring back in. But my defenses are up, and it seems that I am a lot better at blocking them.

SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS

I am visiting a good friend this weekend, one I haven’t seen in over a year. To top it off his entire family is going to be there. Baby steps I tell myself, it will be OK.

What is it I am so afraid of anyway? This is the other part of BDD, a lot of poor self esteem all wrapped up in a package. Why do I care about this gross imperfection? It is just part of me, it is not my fault… Although I don’t think I accept that as a truth.

STAR STRUCK

I was watching the news this morning and there was Lindsay Lohan. She was headed back into rehab. Then they cut to a newsflash that the original singer Chris Kelly from the kids R&B band Kris Kross had died of a drug overdose at the age of 34, he had performed on tour with another BDD sufferer Michael Jackson. Then my thoughts wen’t down the row of dead superstars who seemed to have all the good things in life.

What is wrong here? Something is wrong here, and I wonder if it affects me.

BAD HABITS

I started smoking again when I am away from home. This just makes me feel even more like shit, but there you have it, a self destructive behavior on top of a layer of self hatred. Fuck me!

I am at a medical conference but I stared in the mirror and decided to spend the last two hours in my hotel room. I am thinking of catching a movie and then going out to dinner. I am supposed to meet up with a colleague and his wife tomorrow for dinner, I hope I can get my nerve up.

TESTING MY “BDD” THEORIES

Every time I have tested my theories that my face sucks and nobody would want to hang out with me, or love me, or make love to me.. I have been proven wrong.

My wife doesn’t even seem to notice and my friends have not abandoned me. Hell they seem to not even notice. My parents are the same. People notice, and sometimes they even make a comment about my scar, but it is rare. My patients never say a thing, Maybe it is just a kind world I think, or maybe, just maybe some of this is in my mind.

Or maybe it doesn’t matter, it is just an external thing, and people have their own worries, which usually do not involve my face.

It’s hard for me to post this picture. But I am doing it because I feel like I am on an island.

Scars are quite common, I have sewed up many a laceration in my time as a family practice physician assistant, but facial scars are a different beast.

I didn’t understand this until I received one.

I have talked about my scar on this blog several times, I was too afraid and too ashamed to post the picture until today. This injury happened about two months ago,while surfing. I took the tail of a 40 lb. fiberglass long-board to my face. It was a total accident, but two months later I am left with a rather large and unsightly atrophic scar.

I will post this as well when I feel ready to face my own image.

Since my injury I have been hard pressed to find people with large facial scars. I am not sure if it is my BDD or just the fact that I have a facial scar and I compare my face with everybody.

When I do find somebody I spend the rest of our time together analyzing their facial scar, and it is not like I really care, but I want to know how they deal with theirs. Of course I would never say this out-loud it is something I do in my mind, behind the scenes.

I have been searching for emotional support, it is hard. There isn’t much support out there for people with facial scars. It is even surprisingly hard to find good, trusted information about surgical revision or laser treatments… Something I have been thinking more about lately.

All Aboard the Ugly Train: Passengers – One

People have been surprisingly cruel as well. I never saw this coming. I thought dealing with a facial scar would be a solitary journey. But no it is not, it involves a ride on the “ugly train.”

It is like a nightmare, and no matter how hard I try I can’t get off.

In last two months I have been repeatedly called scar-face, my scar has been endlessly critiqued, leading up to Halloween I actually had several people asked me if I “was going to use my face as part of my costume…” That one left me traumatized for the good part of the following weekend. Actually still does.

I have had people tell me they were surprised it didn’t heel better, that it was more “sunken” then they would have thought, that it was looking worse. I actually can’t believe people say these things. Many a conversation have been had with my scar in place of my eyes.

Now I find I can no longer look people in their eyes, because then I start to think about my scar. I am constantly scanning their gaze.

It’s Just a Scar

It is just a scar, it does not define me, it is part of me now, it is part of my face. Yes, I may be able to get some type of cosmetic surgery to make it better in the next 18 months, but should I have to? I am the one with BDD, if people only knew how these comments affect me. How when they make them I drive home suicidal, how I feel like a monster, how I am afraid to even kiss my wife or be around people who I know.

At first I was even afraid to see the reactions of my own children. They of course look easily past it, they see their dad, not a scar.

It gets old… The comments. There is an endless stream, I have become open territory on which others (I assume) can displace their own body image concerns.

My patients have been surprisingly kind and thoughtful, not one has hardly said a thing. Yet, in the medical community there is a belief I guess that you can fix everything. So when they see my new, infinitely less “beautiful” face, they say things. Horrible things. Really surprisingly horrible things.

All this, and I have skin issues already that are related to my BDD. They were in my mind before, nobody once said anything about my skin prior to this injury, yet I still hated it.

Now as I test my theories and my notions of my imperfections, they are confirmed. To a person with BDD this is particularly devastating.

Getting on With Life

I heard this poem today while on a run it is by Jon Blais who died of ALS. He is still the only person to have ever completed an Ironman triathlon with ALS.

By Jon Blais (August 1971-May 2007)

Live…
More than your neighbors.
Unleash yourself upon the world and go places.
Go now.
Giggle, no, laugh.
No… stay out past dark,
And bark at the moon like the wild dog that you are.
Understand that this is not a dress rehearsal.
This is it… your life.
Face your fears and live your dreams.
Take it in.
Yes, every chance you get…
come close.
And, by all means, whatever you do…
Get it on film.

I like this saying about life “not being a dress rehearsal.” The time I spend lamenting this is getting me nowhere. The more depressed I become, the more I hide from the world, the less I live. And this is time, the only thing I have, and I am giving it to those people who treat me badly. They don’t deserve it.

Starting to Live

I am using this blog to work through my BDD and this facial scar. I decided on my run today, while listening to this poem that I have had enough. Now I just have to figure out how to live like that.

Looking for support? Make sure to check out:

Changing Faces: An amazing community for those of us with facial disfigurements.