The Monster in the Mirror

I’ve never really addressed this in my blog before.  I have many mental illnesses/disorders.  One of them is BDD (Body Dysmorphic Disorder).  Everyone goes through times in their lives where they think something about them is ugly.  That’s pretty normal.  How is BDD different?  It’s a disorder where we obsess excessively on real or imagined imperfections on particular parts of our bodies.

When I was around five years old, I was in a ballet class.  I remember being in the class one day and there was a wall that had mirrors all across it.  I saw myself in the mirror and felt an overwhelming amount of disgust with what I saw.  It was as if I were looking at a monster or demon in the mirror.  I was not a fat kid, but at five years old I thought I was fat and when I saw my face I wanted to break the mirror because it looked disgusting to me.  I was horrified with what I saw.  It has stuck with me ever since.  Over time it has gotten worse.  I got bullied really badly growing up.  Every time I look in the mirror, I want to punch it and shatter it in a million pieces.  I nearly break down in tears every day.  I spend a lot of time usually doing my hair and makeup and I obsess over it.  Constantly having to fix it when I notice some of it is coming off.  Even then though, I still don’t feel beautiful.  When I take pictures of myself, I often have to put a filter on because I feel I look too ugly without it.  Even when I was at a healthy weight in high school, I still saw myself as fat.  To be fair I was called a heifer but still.  I would get on the scale every day and workout (played Dance Dance Revolution) for hours every day.  Guys would whistle at me at times when I’d be walking down the street, but I still felt hideous.  Many times I haven’t wanted to leave my house because I feel too ugly to be seen by anyone.  I even bought a mask once online because I was too embarrassed to be seen; but my mom said if I wore it people would lose respect for me.  So I didn’t wear it.  I have scars all over my body from accidents and self harming.  My arms are covered in them.  I have stretch marks on my body and not from the joys pregnancy.  They are tell stories of traumas and pains that I’ve had to endure all my life.  Dealing with the stresses of life alone.  So I coped the best way I could.  I ate.  I cut.  Now I try to get healthier, knowing even if I get healthy, I will probably never be happy with how I look.  I will always see my face as disfigured or my body as fat, even though I’ll know in my head those things aren’t true.  I take a lot of pics of myself with makeup for practice, but I’m also trying to boost my self esteem.  Some may think I have ulterior motives, but I’m trying to work on feeling better about myself.  My hope is one day when I look in the mirror, and I see the sad monster looking back at me, I can tell it that it’s beautiful.

#MentalHealthAwarenessMonth

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