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

A better week than last

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So the week went a bit better than last.

I started using Mederma on my scar which makes it red but I am hoping it works. I am lucky I didn’t get into a car accident last night or get pulled over by cop for my excessive mirror checking on my drive home.

But luckily I guess it is true what they say: “God looks after fools and children”

I am now more used to wearing cover up on my nose although still essentially pissed off about it. But, I have to get over it… Really.

Trying to figure out how I am going to approach the summer.. Do they make cover up that withstands water?

Today is just a quick note. I am going to head out for a run and try to get outside for a few moments to blow off some steam and enjoy the fresh morning air.

Planning for our trip, feeling generally happier and less desperate. Wishing I could freeze time for a while and sit here in the 8:45 morning with the birds chirping and the sun still waking up.

In quite, in peace in a moment of tranquility… It is just so nice.

Should I Tell My Kids I Have Body Dysmorphic Disorder?

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We all wish for our kids to be strong, confident men and women.

We would tell them that they should respect and care about their bodies.

We would tell them to listen to their hearts, to be who they are, to not let the world dictate their decisions, or make them into something they aren’t.

Yet those of us with BDD are just the opposite.

We let the world dictate our day, we let the feelings of the thoughts of others make us who we are.

If we believe the world thinks we are monsters, then that is what we are, monsters.

We want our kids to live a different life.

My kids don’t know I have BDD, and it is my goal to make sure they never do.

It is not because I don’t want to tell them, because I do.

It is not because I want to protect them, because I know they can handle any truth.

It is because I want them to grow up respecting themselves.

I don’t want them to live in fear like their dad.

I want them to stand in front of the mirror and be proud of who they are.

I want them to know that they can be anything they see (or can imagine) in the world.

I want them to stand confident and proud.

I want them to be who I know I could be if I didn’t have BDD.

A man lost inside his mind, letting the world dictate who he is, afraid of his shadow, walking a fine line between sane and insane.

What would I do if my kids had BDD?

I would tell them they should love themselves as they are… perfect creations of God. Beautiful in every sense of the word.

So, no I am not going to tell my kids I have BDD.

I am instead going to overcome it, and in doing so I am going to tell (show) them a truth that all of us with BDD know deep in side but just can’t accept:

That we are “good enough”, we are just what we need to be, perfection is a lousy lot, we are beautiful, strong and capable human beings. Filled with love and compassion, here to have an experience of life.

Life if so fleeting, so impermanent, so precious.  Let us not waste it on self pity and shame.

To send a different message to my kids would be to steel their time.

Don’t tell your kids you have BDD, instead tell them you love them and then show them the way you want them to be.

Hopeful – Using Cognitive Behavioral Techniques to Test My Body Image Concerns

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After last nights depressing, over-tired post, today turned out to be a good day.

I have been going to church again, mostly for the kids, so that they may know God and understand that somebody may have their back in the bad times, and the good ones.

This has helped me through my BDD, and I figure it is best that they have God’s love to guide them as well.

Going to church helped to get me out of the house, my bedroom and my mind.  Writing here on this blog is a lonely outlet, at the end of the day the only way to overcome my BDD is in the presence of others.

It is among others that I can prove (or more likely disprove) my many skin concerns.

Today, sitting in church, in full light, close to people, I could see that no one cared. My facial scar in full view may or may not have caught the attention of others who, in all honesty,  seemed to care less. They were more concerned about what I had to say, and I am more concerned about what they have to say.

I feel good when I am out, yes I feel anxious, and yes, I feel self conscious but, at the end of the day, being out and about always has a positive net effect on my attitude.

I stayed after church to sit and write in the open air cafe, afterwards I attended a waffle party with some families that attend my daughters school. One of the dads commented on how he hadn’t seen me around (my daughter just started Kindergarten in October) and I made up some sorry excuse about late nights at work.

Honestly, there is no reason to tell others of my body image concerns.  I know my wife was happy to see me there, as were my kids.

Face your Fear and it will Disappear?

My fears have not disappeared  But today, out and about, at church, at a party, out on the bike, this afternoon, I started to feel better.

It is hard to believe how I can be on the edge of destruction one moment, and feeling so good the next. This is the nature of the beast when it comes to body dysmorphic disorder. My moods rise and fall like the ocean tides.

Moral of the story: Getting out and being around people is a known cure for depression which, I have along with my BDD. The Lexapro hasn’t seemed to help as much as I would have liked, but then again I need to increase my dose but haven’t been able to in fear of (believe it or not) what the pharmacist will think. This is incredibly irrational and is further proof why I shouldn’t be treating and prescribing for myself.

I skipped my first counseling session this week because I am a coward, and I was tired of talking about my scar.

I wrote a lot here and started to work a bit more on my art.  I spent time with my children, I took my wife out on a date, I did avoid the mirrors and I had my wife take the one down at the front door… The last one I see as I head out of the house, it has been known to change my attitude pretty quickly.

My wife continues to be an amazing support of my BDD .  She doesn’t give me a bad time about some of my avoidance rituals. She seems to understand what I am going through right now, I am so thankful for that.

I am exhausted, but I made some positive steps this week. My facial scar is hurting me today,  I am not sure how much of that is in my mind.  But maybe it is because I stretched it today, I showed it to the world, I overcame some fears.  And I lived to see another day.

Can God Help You Overcome Body Dysmorphic Disorder?

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I started going to church again this week.

It has been a while…  Certain things happen in life and I am not sure if there is a reason for them or not.

But my recent trip to Haiti landed smack dab in the middle of the worst depression and anxiety I have had over my image concerns in quite some time.

I was extremely excited to fulfill a lifelong dream of providing much needed medical care in a third world country.

The recent facial laceration I sustained sent me over the edge and I had trouble leaving the house, not to mention going to work and seeing my patients.

As I have mentioned before, I started to perform all the same positioning routines, mirror checking and obsessive rituals. I had to place myself for the first time on antidepressants; I started to have suicidal thoughts.

I treat a lot of people with anxiety disorders. My situation may or may not be unique but I am talking about it because I want you to know that even those of us who sit on the other side of the exam room table experience these types of illnesses. Even though I have an awareness of my body dysmorphic disorder it doesn’t mean it is any easier for me to cure it.

Seeking God

On our trip to Haiti we prayed several times every day.

We would pause and take a moment to thank God for things that I normally take for granted:

Things such as good health, access to good food and clean water, a bed to sleep in, a roof over my head, a family that loves me, a chance to receive an educations, a chance to live life with a goal of more than day to day survival.

Taking time to recognize our blessings can have a powerful effect. It makes you ask the most important questions: Where do these blessing come from? And what did I do to deserve them?

When you realize you don’t have an answer to this, you are required to look beyond yourself.

Up to this point in time, at least for the last month all I could think about was how hard my life was now that I had this facial scar. All I could think about was how the world was unfair, how my looks were God’s way of playing a cruel trick on me.

In the face of extreme poverty, starvation, homelessness and despair it became increasingly hard to feel sorry for myself.

It was a reminder of the many blessings I have been given, a chance to stop blaming God and be thankful.  Thankful for the little things I take for granted, which in comparison were not so little after all.