One day I got tired of all that crap (see in my previous post what I'm talking about :D) and again I went to a dermatologist. That wasn't just a random dermatologist, but the head of a medical center in our city. She recommended me right away (without even studying my story) that I take a course of some pills, after which “all pimples will disappear”. Well, but before that, I needed to "go through a couple of cosmetic procedures”. So be it, I went for my skin "cleaning" at some beauty salon where she worked, went through the paid procedure and never came back to her again. It was the first and the last cosmetic procedure for the acne treatment in my life. It was really painful and it didn't bring any good results. Of course, I did not take any pills either.
I didn’t link all that with food then. A lot of “specialists” were saying that food can't influence your skin. Moreover that last dermatologist told me that I might have gotten this type of skin with genes. And I believed that because my dad and other my relatives also had skin problems. However I had some doubts, of course.
So time went on and people around me were still trying to advise me all types of solutions for that. Someone told me that I needed to clean the intestines, someone recommended a blood transfusion, someone told me about the ozone therapy or something like that and so on and so forth, but I was always afraid of medical interventions. The discomfort from acne, apparently, did not overpower this fear.
So I learned to cope with them and sometimes I didn’t even notice and didn’t realize how they limited me. I was very embarrassed of them, especially since I was a very shy girl by myself. With acne it was even worse. Communicating with people was doubly uncomfortable. With mild sadness, I looked at girls who could wear open dresses and shirts, I envied them. I always wore closed turtlenecks stretching them almost up to my ears. To wear something with an open back for me was impossible. Going to a beach or a swimming pool was out of question even though I've always loved swimming.
When a girlfriend of mine would get upset because of a pimple that jumped out on her face at the wrong time, I rolled my eyes: “Look at me, what are you complaining about?!”.
I could go on and on about the psychology of acne, but I guess you already got that the skin issues were an awful and a huge part of life. Even though my case is not the worst one, my skin basically was fine sometimes. I mean I could bare it and some people don't pay attention to other people's skin, but we always care about our appearance, right? Especially in Russia. It always seems like everyone is staring at your skin or any other problem you have. Therefore I was really limited by my acne worries.
To be continued...