Live Like Crazie

It's here!

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 07:35:00 +0000

It's heeeeeeeeere!

I'm so excited to share my new site with you all!

There are still a few things that I am working on and will probably be changing in the next little while (for example, I'm hoping to somehow get a custom banner done), but for now I would love for you to head on over and check it out!

Unfortunately, I had a few problems transferring comments and RSS feeds over :( I'm not very tech savvy with that sort of thing. So if you have been commenting here, I hope you will continue to do so at my new site! Also, if you were a subscriber here, please subscribe over there as well! I will no longer be updating this blog (sad, but it is time to move onwards and, hopefully, upwards!)

Here it is: iloveyourface.net

I hope you all love it! Let me know what you think!

A change is coming!

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 04:45:00 +0000

Hi All,

I've been working on getting my new web page up and running for you all to enjoy :) It's taking all of my extra time so I haven't really been posting lately. I promise that's going to change very, very soon!

I can't wait to show you all the new site!

Love,

Jessie

Quoteable

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Thu, 11 Aug 2011 04:23:00 +0000

My brother sent me this one:

"Each thing in its way, when true to its own character, is equally

beautiful." -- Ed Abbey

#2 ~ Beauty...

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 17:00:00 +0000

...is in the eye of the beholder

Time to make some new plans

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 19:00:00 +0000

I bought a new planner today. I always buy one around this time of year since I still use an academic planner instead of a yearly one.

In looking back at all my appointments over the last year, I realize what I have accomplished in such a short time. It’s easy to get caught up in the future and to think about everything we want to improve in our lives, but it’s also important to give ourselves credit for how hard we work and how far we have come.

In September of 2010, I wasn’t sure if I was moving out of Manhattan or not. I was torn. My health was plummeting, my financial situation was dismal and I was not living in a very good neighborhood. I was unhappy, but didn’t want to give up. I wanted to pull through, find a good job, a better apartment and a therapist who understood me. The month was filled with job interviews and apartment viewings. I really wanted to make it work.

By the end of the month, I knew I was going to be moving home. I wrote notes reminding myself to return belongings to my friends, to give forwarding addresses to my jobs and to buy things like packing tape and paint. In October 2010, I moved back in with my dad.

October was a month of relaxation and organization. It was also my birthday month! I wanted to start my new year with a clean room, and I de-cluttered my physical space so that I could later focus on de-cluttering my mind. I didn’t write very much in my planner.

In November of 2010 I had my first meeting with a body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) specialist. This is when my recovery process truly began and I started taking medication that I had never taken before. On Thanksgiving Day, my entire family came to my house for dinner. I met my brother’s girlfriend for the first time. I remember having a giant scratch on my face and feeling pretty uncomfortable, though I mostly enjoyed myself.

December 2010 and January 2011 were filled mostly with doctor’s appointments and a few meetings with a small company I held an internship with at the time. It was unpaid, but I was not nearly healthy enough to be holding a full time job. My hope was that I could turn the internship into a paid position once I started feeling well enough to work.

New Years Eve I spent at home alone. It was partly because I didn’t feel confident enough to go out, and partly because I wanted to be left alone. Either way, I didn’t feel up for being social. I rang in the New Year by myself and was just fine with it.

In March 2011 I started my current retail job and celebrated one year of being a vegetarian. I continued my internship, though I began to debate leaving. I also continued my appointments with the BDD specialists.

In April 2011 I started this blog! I wanted a place where I could gather my thoughts surrounding life, BDD, self-esteem and basically anything that I felt was important. I wanted to start a community where people felt that they could discuss their issues and get support. I wanted others to know that they are not alone. I also stopped working at my internship in order to focus on things that really mattered to me, which included my health, my family and my job. I didn’t feel that the internship was leading to a paid position, nor was I learning anything valuable. I redirected a lot of my energy towards my blog.

In May I finally started CBT (cognitive-behavioral therapy). My dad and I spent a weekend wandering around Portsmouth, NH. We ate delicious food, window-shopped and did a lot of walking. I bought a beautiful pair of teal feather earrings that remind me of Aria from “Pretty Little Liars”.

Father’s Day was in June! I gave my dad chocolate and cards and my brother was home for the weekend. I interviewed for a second retail job since I needed to raise my income and had started to feel a little more secure in my appearance. I always knew that once I started feeling better I would need to get a second job to pay my bills and get out of debt. I hope to get a full time job (Performing? Blogging? Speaking? Hopefully all of the above) once I am fully recovered.

In July the final Harry Potter movie came out! One of my best friends from high school and I went to the midnight showing armed with coffee and candy. I cried my eyes out and laughed hysterically (not at the same time). I can’t wait for the full boxed set to come out – it will definitely be on my Christmas list! I also started my second retail job (I am still in training) and began working on recovery alone since my therapist is currently out of the country. Though I felt like I took a couple of small steps back in my healing this month, I bounced back and have continued to push forward.

I’ve been through a lot of ups and downs this past year, and time has flown by so quickly. It’s interesting to look back and remember everything that happened and think of where I was physically and mentally in my life when I was writing events down in my planner.

I hope to be in an even better place at this time next year. I want to fill my new planner up with fond memories and add some more fun tasks to my list.

Do you get as excited about new office supplies as I do? What objects in your life bring up memories of specific events?

Sleepy Time Music

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 06:42:00 +0000

Up late with me?

Listen to this on repeat and it will definitely soothe you to sleep :) Love her voice.

Adele, "Make You Feel My Love"

Recovery Dream

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Tue, 02 Aug 2011 14:35:00 +0000

I believe our dreams are reflections of our waking lives and that they have significant meaning, even if they don’t seem to make much sense at first.

Last night I had an extremely vivid dream. When I woke up, I immediately knew it was a recovery dream, signifying that I am successfully pushing my way past my disorder. Just to make sure, I wrote down all of the symbols I could remember and looked them up online. It’s good stuff, people!

The Dream

I was moving out of my apartment, which I was sharing with one of my best friends from high school. We were packing up our belongings, cleaning the floors and painting the walls back to their original color. Typical moving stuff.

While she was busy elsewhere in the apartment, I tried to take a giant mirror off the wall by myself in order to pack it. This mirror was HUGE; it took up almost the entire wall. It ended up being too heavy and awkward for me to carry, and it slipped out of my hands and onto the floor, shattering into thousands of tiny pieces.

My roommate began helping me sweep up the pieces, but never got to finish because she needed to leave. I was left alone in the apartment with tons of chores left to do and not enough time to do them.

I suddenly felt the urge to leave, to run away. I’m not sure what I was running from or why, I just knew that I needed to get out of there and that packing didn’t matter anymore. A large group of strangers met me outside and we formed a team. Our team name was “Orange” to distinguish us from the multiple other teams of runaways that had formed at the same time. Our team leader was my real-life therapist.

Though the path we followed was clearly marked, we were the only team to choose this particular path. Sometimes the trail was blocked by tall grass or was a little more perilous due to steep drops and hills, but it was possible to traverse.

At one point in our journey, we saw a long string of ambulances in the distance, racing ahead with their sirens blaring. I knew that they carried injured people, but I had no way of knowing if I would recognize anyone inside. I just had this feeling that I needed to escape whatever had befallen those individuals.

And then I woke up.

Symbols (looked up here)

Moving ~To dream that you are moving away signifies your desire or need for change. It may also mean an end to a situation; you are moving on. Alternatively, it indicates your determination and issues regarding dependence/independence.

Packing ~  To dream that you are packing signifies big changes ahead for you. You are putting past issues to rest. Alternatively, it represents the burdens that you carry.

Shattered Mirror - To break a mirror in your dream suggests that you are breaking an old image of yourself. You may be putting an end to an old habit. To see a cracked or broken mirror in your dream represents a poor or distorted self-image. Alternatively, it means that you have put an end to your old habits and ways.

Orange (fruit) ~ signifies health and prosperity. To dream that you are eating oranges indicate satisfaction with your life and where you are. You are in a good place.

Trail ~ To dream that you are on a trail signifies your progress in life.

Path ~ To walk down an open path in your dream signifies clarity of thought and peace of mind. It also symbolizes your progress.

Partially blocked trail/path ~ To see a blocked or windy path in your dream, denotes that you need to give serious attention to the direction you are heading in your personal and/or business life.

Ambulance ~ To see an ambulance full of wounded passengers signifies a fear of letting go your old self and making space for the new you.

What does it mean?

Packing and cleaning indicates my willingness to move on from my past and look forward to new experiences.

In the process of packing (moving on), I shatter a mirror, which indicates the shattering of my body image distortion and obsession with my appearance.

I abandon packing in order to join a group of strangers and follow a path in the woods. I believe this has to do with me leaving my burdens behind and choosing recovery.

Though the path is sometimes hard (perilous and covered in weeds), we follow the path in order to avoid a dark fate (in the dream, this is symbolized by ambulances).

Right on, subconscious.

What do you think? Have you had any meaningful recovery dreams lately?

--------
~ As always, there is a new "Happiness" today! Check it out :)

Inspiration

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 02:44:00 +0000

The other day my dad told me that I inspire him. When I talk with him about my fight for recovery and what I want to accomplish in the next few years, he is inspired to take control of his life and live out his dreams. He told me I make him realize how life is supposed to be lived.

This is the man that I look up to and learn so much from. He has been my rock through the most excruciatingly difficult times in my life and has never wavered in his support for me. He has (and continues to) put a roof over my head and food in my belly because I have been too sick and broke to do so.

He takes care of me, and is helping me grow into the woman I wish to be. He inspires me, yet my journey inspires him in return.

Who are you inspiring? Who are you fighting for?

I fight because I love my younger cousin. She is 14 and about to enter high school. I don’t want her to think that beauty and weight are the most important things in life. I want her to have an older cousin she can look to for support.

I fight because I have friends in NYC in the performing arts who deal with harsh rejection every day. They are made to feel that they are not pretty enough, thin enough or good enough. They hear “no” over and over and over again. I want them to know that success may be just around the corner, and that fighters come out on top.

I fight because I know that there are others out there who feel lonely and tired. They don’t know anyone who is dealing with the issues they are facing, and don’t know where to turn for help. They aren’t sure if life is ever going to get better. I want them to feel that they have a safe place, a community where they can get the support they need. I want them to see that recovery is possible, one step at a time.

Fight because you never know who you are inspiring. I didn’t know that I was inspiring my dad.

I’m just me. I don’t have an army of people asking for me to lead them to a better life. My cousin has yet to ask me questions about body image. My friends in NYC have yet to cry on my shoulder because they feel rejected. Right now, my fight is my own. But when the time comes, and I am needed, I want to be there. I want to be able to be that support. I fight now so that I can help others fight in the future.

Be Happy

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 01:57:00 +0000

"When I was 5 years old, my mother told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down "happy". They told me I didn't understand the assignment.

I told them they didn't understand life."

— John Lennon

Taking Control vs. Taking Care

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Sun, 24 Jul 2011 02:59:00 +0000

My guess is that, if you’re reading this, you are unhappy with some aspect of your life. If you are completely happy with your life, I suggest you stop reading and go frolic somewhere.

For the rest of us, there are things we want to change. Maybe it’s our jobs, our bodies or our relationships.

If you’re like me, you like to have complete control over every aspect of your life. In fact, it’s a necessity. I need to know my life inside and out, and be able to manipulate it to do what I want. I want to look a certain way, have a certain job, meet certain people and make a certain amount of money. I not only envision where I want to be in the future, but I start planning it down to the smallest details.

I’ve always believed that, unless I was following a very carefully laid path, I would never get anywhere. I would certainly not end up anywhere I wanted to be.

I think this is how a lot of us operate.

When we want to lose weight or get in shape, we push ourselves to the limit, forcing our bodies to run more miles, lift more weight, eat healthier meals and avoid dessert (even though it’s sooooo delicious).

Thousands of products are sold to control our hair, skin and nails. There are products for even the smallest areas of our bodies (like our cuticles)!

We try so hard to make jobs and relationships work, even when they are clearly failing, simply because it’s what we should be doing. It’s the company we should be working for or the person we should be dating. We’re just going to shove our way through the tough times and bend ourselves until we break.

How anxious does this make you feel?

For me, trying to have complete control over everything has led to some pretty serious breakdowns. We don’t always get what we want, and life rarely works out the way we planned. In fact, I’d hazard a guess that life never works out the way we planned.

So for someone who spends their days painstakingly crafting their entire existence and worrying about the future, it’s pretty devastating when the universe intervenes and decides to shake things up a bit.

I get mad at my skin for breaking out and mad at my thighs for being bigger than I want them to be. I get angry with myself for needing so much time to heal, instead of being able to move forward and reach my dreams. I get mad that my dreams change sometimes, and that I can’t honestly say where I will end up living or what I’ll be doing with my life five years from now (heck, two years from now). I get mad when I can’t sleep at night, and also when I’m too tired to stay awake in the middle of the day. I get angry when all I want for dinner is ice cream.

I’ve been tricked into believing that taking care of myself means forcing certain things to happen because they “should”, so I get mad at myself for things I can’t control, and it’s the fact that I can’t control them that makes me mad in the first place!

What if I released this control?

What if:

Instead of denying my body the food it craves, I eat what I want because my body knows what it needs and when?

Instead of scratching, picking and medicating my skin with different tools and creams, I allow my skin to heal itself and be nourished from the inside out?

Instead of wearing what’s in style, I discover my own personal style based on what I like and what makes me feel good?

Instead of hanging on to old relationships that do not bring me any joy, I allowed myself to grow apart from some people?

Instead of forcing myself to pick a career and plan out exactly how to make it happen, I do what I love and believe that the universe will comply when it’s my time to succeed.

What if we release control? What if we simply believe with all our might that things are going to work out? What if taking care of ourselves means handling ourselves gently, instead of forcing things to happen? What if “fighting” doesn’t actually involve a struggle?

When you fall, get back up.

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 05:13:00 +0000

I’m not going to lie to you. Some days just suck.

I try to stay positive on this blog – recovery is a tough enough process without negativity floating around our heads. Actually, LIFE and PEOPLE are negative enough. I pride myself on being happy most of the time and on fighting the good fight and pushing myself forward.

I want to encourage everyone to overcome their most difficult moments, to look forward to a better life, to LIVE instead of exist.

But you have to remember that I am currently trying to do the same. I am not recovered. I am not undiagnosed. I am still dealing with my issues. Some days I am still suffering from my issues.

Today has been one of those days. Last night I picked my face like I used to. I didn’t even attempt to stop myself. I woke up scratched, bruised and embarrassed. Giant step backwards.

Then I got an email from my therapist – he is going to be out of the country for the next three weeks or so and we will (obviously) not be meeting. So I will be fighting this alone.

Part of me wants to curl up into a ball, fall asleep and wake up when this is all better, but I’ve tried that before and I know it doesn’t work (FACT).

Instead, I am going to put it behind me. I picked. Fine. Now I will heal.

I will be moving forward alone. But I will be moving forward.

And when my therapist comes back in three weeks, I have to think about how amazing I am going to feel that I took steps towards a full recovery by myself.

I continue to be tested. This life isn’t easy. I must continue to rise to the occasion.

Beauty...

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 17:30:00 +0000

...is in the eye of the beholder.

How to manage your anxiety

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 04:20:00 +0000

No matter what you struggle with (BDD, OCD, an eating disorder, etc.), compulsions arise from extreme anxiety. I’m not going to pretend to understand the intricacies of other disorders, but I do know that the methods of managing anxiety work the same for everyone. I’m going to speak in terms of my experience with BDD, but you should be able to substitute your own thought patterns and compulsions and get similar results :) Go team!

The end of the world

When I look in the mirror, I become extremely anxious. I see tons of imperfections, and all I want is to remove them from my face and body. I see acne, clogged pores, ingrown hairs, uneven skin tone and dryness. I start to think that no one will be attracted to me if I continue to look the way I do, that everyone will be disgusted by me, that I am worthless, I will never succeed in life. Negative thoughts begin swirling in my head until I literally feel that I am drowning in them. I can barely catch my breath; it feels like a family of elephants is sitting on my chest. My head starts pounding, my legs are weak and my insides feel like they are shaking and about to crumble. Sometimes I get extremely nauseous and dizzy as well.

For those of you who do not struggle with a body image or anxiety disorder, this may seem like a completely blown-out-of-proportion series of thoughts. I agree to some extent, but you have to realize that neurological disorders are not meant to be rational. That’s part of the reason that they are so frustrating to deal with in the first place. When I see a blemish on my face I don’t think, “oh crap a pimple” like the majority of the human race. I think “oh no, here it comes – the end of the world is upon us. Why am I the ugliest person in the universe? I can’t believe that I am so unworthy of love.”

Relief

BDD is sneaky in that it offers a quick release from the grip of extreme anxiety. I would imagine other disorders offer compulsions that promise similar results.

All I have to do to stop feeling like I’m going to pass out is pick at my face. In the moment, it is a no-brainer. Collapse into a heap of pain and sweat on the floor, or scratch at my imperfections, which I want to remove from my face anyways. Done.

This is the habit we all want to overcome. We want to stop restricting what we eat, purging, picking, cutting, measuring or any other harmful habits we use to get rid of anxiety. In order to do this, we need to learn another way to stop feeling so anxious.

A new way to manage

I always thought that fighting anxiety was the best way to get rid of it. If damaging thoughts entered my mind, I would try to ward them off and convince myself that they weren’t true. I spent a lot of time and effort fighting against my own mind – trying to make myself believe things that I never really accepted.

In therapy, I’ve been learning another way – allowing anxiety to enter my body and acknowledging (and welcoming!) damaging thoughts. This is counterintuitive, but it has been working.

The steps

~ When you begin to feel anxious, and your compulsions are trying to take over, stop what you are doing and acknowledge your anxiety. Do not try to ignore or overtake it.

~ Take a seat. Find a chair and sink into it. Close your eyes. Let your arms and legs hang limp and your head droop forward. Try to relax the muscles of your body.

~ Begin taking deep breaths. The anxious thoughts are still going to be floating around in your head. Let them. Just breathe.

~ Decipher your thoughts. Exactly what is floating through your mind? If you do not follow through with your compulsion (picking, purging, cutting, etc.) what is going to happen? Be specific. What does the future hold for you if you avoid your compulsions? How awful will that existence be? This will cause your anxiety to increase. This is good.

~ Use your imagination. Visualize your worst-case scenario. Pretend you are living it out.

For me, I imagine that my face is covered with acne and blackheads and that, when I go into work, people avoid me because they don’t want to look at me. I imagine that customers don’t want me to help them and that everyone whispers behind my back. My dad shuns me. I end up old and alone because no one wants to date or marry me. I never get my dream job because I am too hideous. I die unhappy and unfulfilled. I am a disgusting waste of life.

What is your worst-case scenario? Think about how this makes you feel, and how anxious you become.

~ DO NOT give in to your compulsions. Even if you feel like you have no other choice. Even though your anxiety is currently spiking into the stratosphere. Even though you are thoroughly upset.

~ Live in this. Live in this moment. Keep thinking those thoughts. Keep listening to your anxiety. Acknowledge it. Be fully aware of how your body is reacting, how hard your mind is working, how awful you feel.

~ Keep breathing. Breathe through this. It hurts like hell, but it’s going to work.

What happens when you work through these steps is that your anxiety spikes. It gets really intense really quickly.

However, your anxiety cannot remain at this level, as it’s impossible for humans to function during intense anxiety (which is why you should be sitting, by the way). Usually, we use our compulsions in order to remove the anxiety and get on with our lives. In doing so, we override our natural habituation systems.

By listening to our anxiety and allowing it to spike, but NOT using our compulsions, we allow our habituation system to take over, as it naturally should. We sit in the anxiety until our bodies can no longer handle it, and we habituate, or get used to, being anxious. Our anxiety slowly but surely decreases.

Habituating to habituating

Over time, your body learns that it does not need to turn to compulsion to decrease the anxiety it is experiencing. All it takes is some intense focus, deep breathing and will-power.

My homework assignment this week was to avoid picking as much as possible. I have been using the technique above to manage my anxiety when I feel like scratching in the mirror. One night, I lowered my anxiety from an 80 (on a scale of 1-100) down to a 35. It took about half an hour, but it was well worth it. I didn’t pick for the next two days.

In the past couple of days, my anxiety has never gone back up to an 80. It has actually been spiking around a 40 and quickly decreasing to a 20. My picking has gone down substantially, and I am not feeling as much of a craving to run to the mirror as I used to.

Healing

This week has been, and continues to be, extremely difficult. I am operating with a base level of anxiety around a 15 (instead of a 0, where I would like to be) and this is causing me to feel very tired. However, to say it’s worth it would be an extreme understatement. Since I am not picking as much, my skin has been given time to heal. I have to say, it looks better than it has in a long time. I am able to see my efforts paying off, which makes me want to continue down this path.

My life is changing in ways I never thought it would. I am still not fully recovered, and I will continue to take medication and go to therapy, but I am gaining tools to deal with my compulsions. I am winning.

Let me know if these steps work for you, or if you are finding them difficult and need some extra advice. I’m an anxiety expert ;)

You have a choice

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Thu, 14 Jul 2011 16:14:00 +0000

Battlefield

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 02:54:00 +0000

It’s on, folks. The time of “now or never, all or nothing” seems to have arrived.

I wrote recently about my latest CBT homework assignment, and how I was starting to actively work on ridding my life of BDD-related compulsions. My main compulsion, skin picking, has been the hardest thing to stop doing, but is the one compulsion that I need to remove in order to move forward with a healthy, happy life.

I was all fired up about my new homework assignment, and was feeling more than ready to move ahead with it.

However, something strange happened over the past two weeks: I found that apathy began to overtake passion.

Progress?

In the past, my BDD made me feel anxious, worthless, ugly and depressed. I hated myself and hated my life. I picked to relieve all of these sensations, and the picking would cause me to feel even worse. It was a sneaky hate spiral that didn’t seem to have any potential of getting better.

Recently, due to a combination of medication and therapy, I no longer feel so awful about myself. In fact, I’m tempted to say that my depression is completely gone. I can see that I have a bright future, that I am worthy of being on this earth, that I am smart and have a great personality. I no longer ask myself why I have friends or how people could love me. I believe in myself.

My anxiety has also gone down, though it still very much exists. I don’t feel as anxious before OR after picking as I once used to.

While these all seem like great steps, they have led to an unusual outcome: the aforementioned apathy. Instead of being excited at my progress and wanting to move foreword even more, I seem to have stopped caring about my recovery as much as I used to. It’s almost as if, because the anxiety and depression are nearly gone, I don’t mind the skin picking.

Think of it this way

If you are doing something that is pleasurable to you (skin picking) that has damaging effects (anxiety, isolation, depression, bleeding and scarring), you obviously want to stop the action and find another pleasurable activity that does not have any negative results. However, if you have found ways to skirt the damaging effects (in my case, through means of therapy and medication), then why would you stop the pleasurable activity? I enjoy picking my skin ~ it gives me a feeling of accomplishment and relief ~ and since I don’t mind the results anymore and am no longer avoiding social or work situations because of my scratches, I might as well continue.

This is the mood I have been in for two weeks. I feel like I have arrived at the furthest point of my recovery ~ I can’t get any healthier than I am now. I’ll just accept that picking is a part of my life and move on.

Oops

I spoke with my therapist about this today ~ I told him that I feel much better, but that the picking hasn’t gone away. I also mentioned that I don’t mind the picking as much anymore, and asked why this may be.

His answer was basically that I need to push myself even harder. I’ve felt awful about myself for so long that the mental place that I’m at now is a huge improvement over my past self. Because I am healthier, it’s easy to simply stop fighting and accept my current situation.

This makes a lot of sense to me. Honestly, I’m scared to move forward. I’ve lived with BDD and skin-picking for about seven years! It’s a part of me, and getting rid of it feels like giving myself a lobotomy or killing an old friend.

It’s also EFFING difficult! To change a deeply engrained behavior requires concentration, strength and perseverance. It is a constant battle, and I can’t become apathetic or decide that I’m “fine” with where I am.

I deserve an amazing life

If I really think about it, I am NOT okay with where I am – I don’t like looking at my face and seeing all the places where I have scratched and picked. I don’t like that I have scaring and uneven skin tone because of all the nights I spent ripping my face apart with tweezers. And if I’m fully honest with myself, I don’t enjoy picking as much as I convince myself that I do. It causes me a lot of pain, physically and emotionally. Even more than that, I know that I am letting my BDD win. I am allowing this disorder to share my life with me.

I don’t want to continue down this path ~ I want to FULLY recover.

I want to get to the real finish line, not just to the place I am now where I feel generally okay. I don’t want to be average, I want to be exceptional. I want to live to my fullest potential, to recognize all of my dreams and to feel confident in myself. I want to be happy.

Superhero homework

I am fighting again. I took two weeks off, and now I’m back on board. This week is going to be extremely difficult, because I have to fight my apathy and my BDD. I am so close to being recovered, but that doesn’t mean I can stop the fight ~ I have to continue punching my BDD in the face until I cross the finish line.

I am not allowed to pick this week. I know what is going to happen ~ I am going to experience intense anxiety. There will be frustration, tears, nausea, headaches and feelings of weakness. I am going to want to pick, I am going to be fighting against myself in order to move forward.

My BDD is going to wrestle me with all its might to get me to the mirror, to grab the tweezers, to squeeze and pick and prod at my pores until I’m back at square one.

This week is going to make or break me. I refuse to give in. I’m going to win.

I’ll keep you all updated. If you are at this point in your recovery as well, please join me. We can fight together :)

Story of my life...

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 04:16:00 +0000

... as I welcome midnight once again

When do the lessons we learned as little kids become irrelevant?

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 20:46:00 +0000

~ When did we forget to use our manners?

Little kids are taught to be respectful, to “treat others the way you want to be treated” and to be polite, which includes saying “please” and “thank you”.

I work at a children’s store part-time, and I constantly hear parents ask their kids “now, what do you say to the nice girl?” after I’ve helped them with something. They always look at me, smile and say “thank you”. Manners are some of the first things we teach our children, and I’ve often heard parents say that they are either proud of or embarrassed by their kids due to the presence or absence of good manners.

So why is it that I am constantly disrespected by adults in the same work environment? Why do adult customers demand things of me, treat me like dirt and yell when they can’t have their way? Why do they snatch things out of my hands and walk away without so much as a smile or a nod of gratitude. Heck, I would take a smirk from some of these people, just to know that they are aware of my existence.

At what age do “please” and “thank you” become replaced by demands and entitlement? Why do we require that children show good manners (even if it takes a while for them to learn), but we don’t expect the same from adults? I can’t imagine the reaction I would get from adults if I were to respond with “now what do you say?” when they grabbed an item out of my hands.

~ When do we stop allowing ourselves to express emotion?

When children are upset, you are most definitely going to hear about it. Loud and clear. There will be tears and there will be tantrums. When children are happy, there is no limit to the giggling, jumping up and down, excited shrieking and hugging. Kids wear their hearts right on their sleeves. You will almost always know how they are feeling, and they aren’t scared to tell you about it if you’re unsure.

Adults, on the other hand, can be feeling one thing, yet saying another. Adults don’t often want others to know what they are thinking and go to great lengths to hide their emotions.

Many adults I have encountered say that they don’t like giving or receiving hugs, that they don’t cry because crying equals weakness and that they don’t trust anyone because everyone is out to manipulate them.

Now, I don’t think tantrums are necessarily appropriate (or very fun, whether from a child or an adult), but I do believe it is important to show your emotions. Being sad or vulnerable is not weakness, it is human. Getting excited does not mean that you are immature or simple, but rather that you are able to fully appreciate things with your entire being. You can live in the moment. You enjoy your life.

Showing emotion also creates connections with others who are feeling the same things or who can help you overcome difficult obstacles. Sharing joy is how friendships are created. I am proud of the relationships I have made because I have chosen to trust, to care deeply, to hug freely and to let others in during my happiest and saddest times.

~ When did we stop wanting to learn?

Kids ask so many questions it’s impossible to answer all of them. They are constantly learning new things and questioning the universe. They want to know why things are the way they are and often don’t accept the first answer they receive. They are curious. They want to form their own opinions and truly want to understand what’s happening around them.

Unfortunately, many adults are not this way. Many of us are so stuck in our own thoughts and opinions that we don’t often consider the other side of things. We brush off someone else’s ideas and judge those who are not like us. We don’t care to learn anything new; we already know everything we need to get by.

Often, adults don’t ask questions because they are scared of looking stupid.

~ When did we stop believing that life is supposed to be enjoyable?

If there is one thing that kids excel at, it’s playing. In fact, I’m pretty sure playing was my only responsibility when I was younger. My parents were constantly shuffling us out of the house to build snowmen, swing on the swings, play baseball or soccer and ride our bikes around the neighborhood. Even when we started school, we learned to color, to play games and sports and to read chapter books. I would get up every day before my parents and be ready to go! I was so excited that I never wanted to sleep. Kids are taught that there should be balance between work and play, and that life should be enjoyable.

At some point, we become adults and suddenly have to “grow up”, which apparently means no longer being allowed to have any fun. Everything becomes a chore, even things like running, which used to be done for sheer enjoyment. Work is a necessary evil, as we have bills to pay and mouths to feed. We no longer believe in our dreams, or that we are meant to do what we want and be whoever we choose. In adulthood, life tends to drag on, punctuated by moments of excitement and celebratory events, but always returning to the monotony of everyday life.

What happened to us?

Aren’t we those same little kids, just with a few more years of experience? Can’t we remember what it means to have fun, to make new friends, to dream, to live?

I refuse to believe that there is a stark divide between adulthood and childhood. We are living one, continuous life. We bring all the experiences of our past into our future. Our past, our childhood, makes us who we are today.

Of all the people I have met in my life, those who are the happiest are the ones who have allowed their childhood to follow them into adulthood. Those who continue to dream. Those who believe that work is meant to be enjoyed. Those who laugh, cry, hug and dance whenever the mood strikes them.

Just because we reach a certain age or pass a specific milestone does not mean that we forget about the lessons we have learned from our youth. Rather, these times are when it is most important to remember where we have come from and how we can continue to be those little kids who are able to get up every day and enjoy their lives.

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Behind the curtain

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 05:22:00 +0000

I’ve been putting off writing this post a bit. Even though I have a public blog and am clearly open about my body image issues, it is still hard for me to talk about sometimes. BDD is extremely under-diagnosed, simply because people who suffer from the disorder often feel too ashamed to discuss their symptoms (and therefore never receive an actual diagnosis). Well, the shame has not fully disappeared for me yet. I want to be open about my experiences and the recovery process, but I often worry that people are laughing at me behind my back, or that they say they understand when they really have no idea.

Putting yourself out there is hard, and this post has been especially tough for me to start. It is really going to open up my inner world of crazy. However, I have to remind myself that I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing this for everyone else who is suffering. I’m doing this for anyone who feels ashamed because they don’t understand where their symptoms are coming from and why they can’t stop their compulsions. I want others to see that they are not alone.

This is what it looks like

I’m standing in only a towel, having just stepped out of the shower. Drops of water roll down my skin and fall from my hair. I have already made my way to the mirror, and am staring at my face. With all of my makeup washed off, I can see every imperfection. There are too many to count. It is overwhelming.

I can see each pore that is clogged, every section of skin that seems ready to burst with acne, each ingrown hair or hair that need to be plucked. I can see lines and indentations ~ some are there naturally, and some are scars from past picking episodes. Everything about my face is ugly, and I know I have to fix it. I need to do something.

My first step is to grab a washcloth and run it quickly under the faucet. I have learned from hundreds of similar episodes that a damp washcloth removes excess skin better than a dry or soaking wet one.

I begin rubbing the washcloth over my face in small, frantic circles, starting at my forehead and moving around my face. I am not just trying to exfoliate the dry skin, but am also hoping that this process will somehow clean deep into my pores, removing breakouts and erasing my scars. It never does, but I try anyway.

The scrubbing is anything but a gentle process. I push down so hard on my skin that I worry my skull may fracture. I often give myself a tension headache from the sheer amount of pressure I am applying. The scrubbing lasts quite a few minutes.

When I’m done, my skin is red and tender. I have taken off any dead skin, but have also removed a significant number of healthy skin cells as well. My face is sore to the touch. Often times, the scrubbing has opened up pimples or recent scratches, leaving my skin bloody in places.

I’m still not done.

Having “cleaned” my skin of the outer layer of dirt, I can see even more distinctly where I am broken out and which pores are clogged. Standing mere centimeters away from the mirror, I scratch, dig and squeeze at these blemishes, determined to remove any last bit of dirt or oil. I always use my fingernails, and almost always use tweezers. During very bad episodes, I have used nail clippers to cut away parts of my skin.

When does it stop?

Sometimes I can pick for hours. Literally. Hours. I have stayed up all night before, digging away at my face, hoping that it will miraculously become flawless. Sometimes I only pick for a few minutes (though I often return to the mirror soon after to continue the process). I don’t know how I stop, I just sense that I am done and take a step back to survey the damage. I am almost always in a trance-like state when picking, and only stop when I somehow un-fog. Sometimes it is due to exhaustion, sometimes due to pain, sometimes due to time limits. Most often it happens inexplicably.

How does Cognitive Behavioral Therapy help?

How does one stop the madness? CBT makes me more aware of the process I use to “fix” my face. I wouldn’t have been able to write out my picking process before therapy because I honestly didn’t notice a pattern. It was just something I did automatically. Also, as I mentioned, picking is usually a response to anxiety, and both the initial anxiety and the release occur in a foggy mental state. Often times I am not fully aware of what I am doing until I decide I need to stop.

My therapist has spent the past few weeks drawing the above information out of me in segments by asking me a lot of questions and teaching me to be present during my episodes. For the first few weeks we didn’t try to change my actions. Instead, I simply recognized the thoughts and their accompanying behaviors. Acknowledging them was the first step towards recovery.

By asking the right questions (and through my “mental excavations” over the past few weeks) we were able to sketch out exactly what happens when I become anxious and discover how the BDD has a hold over me.

Homework

This past week was the first time I had a homework assignment that involved action instead of thought. Once I start picking it becomes hard (and by hard I mean basically impossible) to voluntarily stop, so we decided to cut the process off at the very beginning.

When I get out of the shower or wash my face, I am NOT allowed to scrub my skin with the washcloth. I can dry my face, but I can not scrub or use the cloth to scratch at any blemishes I may see. I pat my face dry and walk the hell away.

To say it’s difficult would be an insanely ridiculous understatement. Obviously it has been impossible in the past or I would have stopped a long time ago. Not picking and scrubbing to relieve anxiety makes me feel, well, ANXIOUS!!!

Fortunately, I have been learning some techniques to deal with this anxiety, and I am happy to say that I am moving in the right direction and learning to manage without causing such extreme damage to my face.

I definitely want to discuss what has helped me manage my anxiety, as I am sure any readers out there with high anxiety are trying to figure out how the heck it’s possible. I will leave that for my next post, as this one is already extremely long.

What I want to know from you

~ Have you experienced similar picking episodes from either BDD or other comorbid disorders?

~ Who else out there is in recovery or has already recovered?

~ What else do you want to hear about my personal journey? What would help you to know?

Please comment below or message me.

~~~

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Compulsive Skin Picking

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Sun, 26 Jun 2011 04:01:00 +0000

I want to talk about my therapy session this past week and update you on how I’ve been doing, but I feel like I can’t do this without some background info. So, here we go.

The manifestations of BDD are both mental and physical. I have discussed in some detail the mental anguish that accompanies the disorder: feelings of inadequacy (biggest understatement of life), hating yourself, believing that you’re ugly and worthless, and a general obsession with appearance, to the point that it completely runs your life. I have yet to discuss the ways BDD physically affects people with the disorder because, for me, it’s much harder to talk about.

BDD is different for each person, meaning that the symptoms are not necessarily the same for everyone who has the disorder (though some symptoms have a much higher rate of occurrence). Not only can BDD lead to panic attacks, frequent migraines, nausea and fatigue, but also to many different compulsive behaviors.

For a list of common compulsive behaviors, please click here. About 50% of these compulsions have appeared in my struggle with BDD, but the two major ones are mirror checking and skin-picking (often referred to as “dermatillomania").

Skin picking is exactly what it sounds like ~ picking at your skin. Most people (especially during their teenage years) pick at their skin to some degree. It’s very common to pop a pimple, scratch at a bit of dry skin or try to pull out an ingrown hair. It’s normal to see an imperfection on your skin, become a bit aggravated and try to remove it. Compulsive skin pickers, however, take these behaviors to the extreme.

For me, BDD compounds the issue. I see blemishes on my face that either do not exist or are so small that others wouldn’t even bat an eye at them. To me they seem so large and obtrusive that I feel extreme embarrassment and my self-worth plummets. I don’t want to be seen ~ my skin is just too awful. In order to “fix” the problem, I pick. Honestly, as I am picking I feel that I am making things better. I will spend hours in front of the mirror, washing and rewashing my face, picking at “blemishes”, pulling out hairs, exfoliating dry skin and digging into my face to remove blackheads and dirt. I think that if I can just remove all of the bad stuff from my face, I will feel more confident and be able to get on with my life. Though my skin-picking is focused mostly on my face, I have also picked at my back and legs over the years. Of course, this never ends well. Picking results in scratches, bruises and scars. When I’m done it looks like someone has taken a knife to my face. There’s nothing subtle about skin-picking ~ you can tell when someone has done it. It’s awful.

So why don’t I stop? Why can’t I simply remind myself that it hurts and that it only makes things worse? Well, BDD is a sneaky little bitch, that’s why. I get trapped in two endless cycles that require that I pick. Picking becomes a necessity rather than an option.

· The cycle of anxiety ~ I have tried to stop picking at my skin thousands of times before. I’ve been doing it for about 7 years, and almost every day I vow to be done with it. However, the instant I stop picking I feel overwhelming anxiety. I go through a script in my head about how I will be ugly if I don’t pick, I’ll break out, I’m unclean, people are going to wonder why I haven’t tried to remove such grossness from my face. I have panic attacks and feel physically ill. I start picking again just to stop feeling so horrible. Picking brings a sense of relief, as it calms the anxiety down and allows me to enter a trance-like state. When I’m picking, I only focus on what I see in the mirror. I don’t have any other problems or worries. It’s an escape, and my body and mind know when I’m trying to take that escape away. I pick to relieve stress and, like an alcoholic or drug addict, it has become the only thing that makes me feel better.

· The cycle of scratches ~ After picking, as I have mentioned, I am left with bleeding scratches/cuts on my face (or legs or back). It sometimes looks like I’ve been attacked. I have gone from having minor flaws on my face to have open sores that eventually scab over. The scratches and scabs further trigger my BDD, because now there are actual blemishes on my face to pick at. So I do, and the cuts don’t get a chance to heal, and the cycle continues.

BDD wins by trapping the sufferer in these cycles of anxiety and harmful behavior. It becomes more severe over the years, until you literally do not know how else to live. It seems that there is no way out. This is where CBT comes in. Cognitive behavioral therapy teaches techniques to overcome anxiety without resorting to picking, and also attends to the script in my head so that I don’t feel such high anxiety about my appearance in the first place.

This past week, my therapist and I laid out a couple of very specific behaviors that I should employ to combat my skin-picking routine and the anxiety that would inevitably follow. I am happy (ECSTATIC) to report that it has been going very well and I am seeing results.

I definitely want to explain what my homework assignment is this week and how I have been doing, but I am going to save that for another post. I don’t want this one going on for days. [update: follow-up post is here]

For now, I hope this has given you all some insight into the compulsions surrounding BDD and maybe given some people hope that it can be overcome :) More soon!

Support

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Fri, 24 Jun 2011 02:01:00 +0000

This is absolutely the way I feel about my own dad, who has been my #1 champion throughout my recovery. I don't know if I could do this without his support. <3

From postsecret.com

Recovery is a constant battle

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Sun, 19 Jun 2011 23:09:00 +0000

I had a revelation today: recovery is a constant battle. It is a relentless process, not one that happens in fits and starts.

Have I been fighting to overcome my BDD and working hard to set up a better life for myself? Yes, of course. However, I’m realizing that I only fight when absolutely necessary. When something happens, I can analyze it and determine if I want to have it in my life. I can recognize when I’m having BDD thoughts, and am slowly working to push negativity out of my life. But there are moments in between that are seemingly lacking in stimuli. Moments when I’m not being pushed by my therapist or battling an obvious trigger.

I now recognize that true recovery happens in these moments. Recovery happens when you recognize your opponents, see their arsenal of weapons and get pissed off about it.

I was feeling self-conscious as I got ready today ~ noticing all of my flaws, feeling extremely anxious and beginning to spiral into my typical BDD thought/compulsion pattern. I didn’t want to go out of the house ~ I wanted to, but felt like I couldn’t. I was just too ugly. Everyone was going to stare at my face and all my horrible imperfections and turn away in disgust. I couldn’t handle that happening.

And then something clicked in my head. I thought, “who is telling you that you’re ugly? Who is making you feel this way? The media? Society? TV? Magazines with perfect-looking models on the cover?” I stood in front of my mirror and listed all of the different sources that made me feel worthless. I thought of all the ways beauty is personified in our culture and all the reasons I supposedly do not fit this ideal. I saw my opponents and I saw their weapons. I knew exactly what I was dealing with. And then I got pissed.

How do people who have never met me have the right to determine how I feel about myself? Who gave a group of individuals the power to sit in their offices and decide who is prettier than whom, and who looks perfect and who doesn’t? Why do they think that they can wave their advertisements and photoshopped pictures in my face and cause me to break down because I know I can never be what they want me to be? Do they think I’m that weak? Do the people pushing popular media today think that I am nothing but a weak, brainless little girl who will consume whatever trash they throw my way simply because they say so?

No. I am not. I am intelligent. I am independent. I can stand on my own two feet and make my own damn decisions. You don’t know me, and you never will. You can not pull strings like an invisible puppeteer and make me do your bidding, buy your products, spread the word of self-hate and ignorance.

I am going to learn to love myself. I do not need you to tell me how to feel ~ I am perfectly capable of figuring it out on my own. In those moments in between, when I am sitting idly around waiting for the next trigger, waiting for the next moment of insecurity, I will remind myself who and what I am fighting against. I am going to charge at my self-loathing with increased fervor. I will make recovery my full-time job. I will defeat you. You won’t even know what hit you.

It’ll be me. And I’m going to be beautiful.

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Who would we think is beautiful?

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Sun, 19 Jun 2011 16:04:00 +0000

Nabbed from Rachel Rabbit White

To theater, or not to theater?

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Sun, 19 Jun 2011 02:13:00 +0000

Tonight was the first night of rehearsal of a musical being put on by a local theater. It’s a theater I have performed for in the past, and one where I made some great friends. I had an absolute blast performing with them, and had been asked back to audition again this summer. As you can probably guess, my response was “no thanks”. It’s true that I have been saying “no” to a lot of things lately, but it’s all relative. I have a lot of different interests, and lots of people I want to spend time with. I’m also trying to work as much as I can to pay off debt, get my blog rolling, and learn guitar. Of course, this is on top of repairing my low self-image and getting healthy. It’s a lot. I don’t just want to do these things, I want to do them well ~ they are important to me, and I enjoy them (yes, even working).

I eventually want to be healthy enough to go back to performing, but right now is not that time. As much as I love being on stage in front of a mic, there are so many things surrounding the performing arts that are hard for me. It took me a while to recognize this and even longer to openly admit it. Rehearsal rooms with mirrored walls, dressing rooms, being measured for costumes, being evaluated based on your “look” and your body type, being labeled by strangers as a certain personality or character type because of that look, wearing heavy makeup and sometimes revealing clothing ~ all of these things can act as triggers, and usually they are all going on at once. I have to believe that I can get to the point where these things will not bother me and I will actually enjoy them.

I want to sing and I miss performing, but I have to think of my health and my silly little brain first. It would not be smart of me to run onto a stage right now in the middle of recovery. Until I am well, I can practice on the side, sing in my shower and hone my skills so that when I am better, I can reward myself with auditions and hopefully some open mics and such. It was a hard thing to say “no” to, but I feel more in control having done so. I know that I am really thinking of what I need and not just what I want.

Recovery

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Wed, 15 Jun 2011 15:58:00 +0000

All pictures are from The Love Yourself Challenge, which is an amazing blog that everyone should definitely check out, especially if you are struggling with poor body image.

On my way

noreply@blogger.com (Jessie Rose) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 06:03:00 +0000

This is just a quick post to say that I think I am finally starting to feel better. For real this time. I am starting to believe that I am at the top of the mountain, ready to descend ~ that there is a light at the end of the tunnel (yay metaphors!). So many times (too many to count, really) in the past few years I have felt better ~ less self-conscious, less anxious, more in control ~ but have never been at peace. I always had a strong feeling in the pit of my stomach that the fight wasn’t over, that I was just waiting to crash again, to be suddenly ripped out of my seat, whirled around and dropped back at the beginning of the same long journey. And this is always what happened. I didn’t have the tools to move forward, I was simply willing myself to get better. I didn’t even know where to begin or how to get help; I just wanted everything that was bad in my life to go away.

This time is different. There haven’t been crazy ups followed by paralyzing crashes. There have been ups and downs, of course, but there has been an overarching increase my well-being. I have seen things slowly but surely get better in these past few months. I have taken my treatment one step at a time and have been living my life one day at a time, which I believe has made all the difference. Instead of expecting a sudden miracle, I have allowed everything to slowly fall into place. I am taking time every single day to gauge my mood, my compulsions, my self-image. I am constantly working on my identity and my life, steering myself in the right direction and allowing my past to move me forward instead of hold me back.

I don’t have the same sense of dread that I used to have. I don’t feel like I am going to crash. If I have a bad day, I honestly believe that I can come back from it (and have had to many times before). I am at a place where I never ever thought I would be ~ steadily walking the road to recovery. I had so many days where I would lay in bed and wonder if my life would ever get better, or if I was doomed to exist as a lump for eternity. Would I ever become a real person? Would I ever feel confident or pretty? Would I be able to actually live my life?

I’m definitely on my way, and it feels amazing. I can’t believe I’m here, but I’m so very glad that I am.