You aren’t alone.
Just wanted you to know that today.
I am typically very, very low. Manically depressed with a stress on the depressed.
Every so often I come out of it. I look in the mirror.
The young woman (am I even young anymore? Wrong side of my 20s…) I see is not me. Or, is she me?
The woman I see in the mirror when I’m not depressed doesn’t have scars on her face. Her hair is okay and a nice color. Her face is thinner. Her nose doesn’t look crooked.
Am I seeing things that aren’t there when I am depressed? Or, am I in denial of my monster-like appearance when I’m not depressed?
I don’t know. I really don’t know which is me.
I went to my dermatologist (a famous NYC doctor) who does body contouring and fillers and everything. I go to see him because I have scleroderma, an autoimmune that affects the skin.
So there I am, on the table. I start telling him what I want done and if he can refer me. He looks me straight in the eye and says I don’t need it. My lips are fine. My nose isn’t crooked. I don’t have scars on my face. And that if I want to lose weight, I can try some diet and exercise. “Join a gym, you’ll be fine.” WTF?!?!? Now I know my BMI is too high. So, I mean, I just… is he bullshitting me or do I sound crazy to him?
I want him to give me what I want. I don’t want to hear that I look fine when most days I don’t like what I see. I go for months without being able to actually look at myself in the mirror because I get anxiety over it and feel more depressed.
None of this makes sense.
It’s all confusing and frustrating.