The longest battle of my life: ACNE

I haven't lived long enough to have experienced as many life battles as my Dad, but in those few years of my life, I have been given a battle that will surely matter to me even in the next twenty, thirty years: ACNE. 

I know I should be writing my manuscript, but this write-up is ten years overdue. 

I was one of the first people who got acne in my class when I was in sixth grade. From then on, acne has been an uphill battle for me. That's fifteen years of countless visits to different dermatologists, hundreds of prescriptions, creams, aesthetic procedures, peels and pills, and more than ten thousand dollars (twenty, my mother claims) all for the sake of getting rid of acne. Fifteen long years of low self-esteem, self-consciousness, and depression; more than a decade of hiding the emotional damage for fear that people might think I'm stressing over something so girly. But now I've had enough. I'm not here to give you medical advice on how I cured my acne; neither am I writing about a success story nor the next holy grail product to achieve clear skin. This is not a beauty post. Once and for all, I'm writing about this tiresome, never-ending battle that has affected my growing-up years. I'm writing about what hurt, what and who helped and how I (still) cope with acne. 

1. The humiliation sticks with you forever.

I don't expect eleven-year-olds to be understanding about how to protect one's self-esteem, and how bullying actually damages life. Yes, I know we were all just eleven, but it doesn't change the fact that I was hurt. My classmates said hurtful words that I can't ever forget, not because I'm still holding grudges but because it hurt that much. I still remember one of my classmates' mom asked me "Heidy why do you have pimples?" Uhm, you're the mom so tell me about it. I heard versions of that questions many, many times from other parents, teachers and even from my loving relatives. When my brother was ten, his playmate asked, "Is that your sister? Why does she have a lot of pimples?" I went home crying. 

2. It's not a girly thing. It IS depressing.

At eleven, I already experienced crying myself to sleep, praying that my pimples be gone the next day because I didn't want to get bullied again for another day. I started comparing myself to other people, thinking why am I the only one suffering? What about him? What about her? Why me!? I saw a glimpse of serious depression when thoughts of harming myself entered my mind at a tender age of eleven. 

My acne got really bad, as in medically described as "severe", when I turned 18. That was the time when depression hit me hard. One year of darkness -- that's all I remember from The Great Depression. At one point I was getting by, thinking that "Nah this too shall pass." (it did) , and "God has a plan for me." (yes He has) and that "I will wait for God's miracle!" (sure). I went from being that optimistic to being a crying mess real quick as soon as I see my face in the mirror. In an effort to help myself, I avoided cameras and mirrors but I could only do so much when my face was tomato-red, with big painful lumps and it's impossible not to see it even through the back of a spoon. So tell me, how can you overcome depression if you are reminded of it every time you get a glimpse of yourself?

3. Friends can't cure acne, but they can cure the damage that it does you emotionally.
Depression takes so much of your self-worth that you tend to reduce yourself to the amount of what's hurting you. When my acne was calmer, I'm happier but when it gets bad, I fall apart. My best friends reminded me that there is so much more in me. They were kind enough not to hurt my self-esteem in any way and kept on encouraging me that things will get better in time. By now, Ghel and Deb have run out of things to say to lift my spirits up, to tell me it's really okay. It is not an easy thing to do but I thank them for trying because kind words really matter.

4. Accutane: The double-edged sword

The severity of my acne went down several notches because of Accutane: the be-all and end-all of all acne treatments. It is considered as the last resort for patients who have tried everything across the board with no results (like me) because of its harsh side effects (if you'll just google). With a promise that my acne won't ever return after a six-month course and with monthly lab tests to ensure my health is intact, I took the plunge. And after six months my acne struggle was over.. or so I thought. I was one of the 30% in the group who had to do a second course after a few years because my dear acne came back. Not as bad as before, but it came back. So repeat, I did. Studies show that there's only 30% chance that acne will come back after two Accutane courses so I'm off the hook right?

Nope my acne came back just recently. My doctor recommended a third round of Accutane.

Fuck me. I was outraged. After two courses of rigorous treatment with my health on the line, why am I still not off the hook from this fucking acne? No seriously, I was just barely enjoying my clear skin and now I'm back to square one?

5. The rude awakening
It took me a lot of pondering and maturity to logically identify and assess my current situation. You see, the Great Depression that I experienced last 2009 was valid: my face was pus-filled and tomato red and not even my loving friends can deny that. It was BAD. Now, though my acne is back, it's still not half as bad as it was before. My face is just not good for my liking.

So you might ask, why not? Just take the damn pill. Third time's the charm. Yeah that's what I've been asking myself too. I've done it before, doctor said it's safe, it's effective, so why not? What's stopping me?

Maybe you'd also ask do I regret taking Accutane? Hell no. It saved my life. But maybe I'm just being greedy if I'll take it for the third time. At one point I need to draw the line, start accepting that Accutane can only do so much for the skin that I was born with, and just learn to deal with a few spots here and there.

Do you believe in divine intervention? I do, and He tells me "not now".

Not now because I want to learn something from this experience. I want to learn how to feel beautiful despite my imperfections, and I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and appreciate the reflection. I'm sick of feeling sad for a condition that has immensely improved over the years. I want to be "cool" about it, like "I don't give a shit because seven years ago, when severe cystic acne made smiling physically painful, I would have given anything for the world to get the skin that I have now. So fuck off."

To everyone who has shared the same struggle, don't let anyone dismiss your feelings as "trivial" or "vain" because no one will understand the impact of how something simple and vain as acne can control someone's life unless they've actually lived a decade with it. Let's hang in there. Stay strong, you're beautiful!

2009

Day 4: My Parents

I came from a typical Asian family. My father is a diligent, hardworking man who spent half of his life providing for our family; sent us to the best universities and only ever wanted the best for us. My mother is a caring housewife who tended to all our needs from cooking all our meals to looking for our missing socks. Between the two of them, my father is the strict parent while my mom is sympathetic -- a very typical setup. I remember having far and few attempts to being "rebellious" throughout my teenage years, but it didn't take a while for me to jump back to my old ship after receiving a few beatings from my father. 

I really had a strict upbringing compared to my friends. I was hardly allowed to go on sleepovers and out of town trips until I was twenty-one. My curfew was 9pm for as long as I can remember. My friends said that I did not have any freedom, but now that I look back I think I got it all wrong. Apart from the discipline and the inspirations, my parents never really forced their way through my childhood. They gave me the intellectual freedom to shape my personality and define my beliefs and principles in life for as long as it is morally right. I had the freedom of satisfying my curiosity through books, movies, classes and people without my parents' intervention. How I stayed in 'moral boundaries' without my parents' guidance during those curious years was beyond me. Kidding aside, I think it's one of the greatest things that my parents imparted to me -- the freedom to think. Truly one of the reasons why I am on this path of delving the unknowns in Science. (I took it way too seriously, now I am an overthinker! Damn it. ) But thanks folks! 

Day 3: My First Love

My first and greatest love happened to be living 3,000 kilometers from me. It was a fateful time when I finally packed my bags to seek an adventure in South Korea, which led me to him. He came at a time when everything was unknown and when my world suddenly turned into a different language. Despite all, our similarities overcame the language barrier and cultural differences to the point that we became genuine friends. We talked and talked for hours, watched so many movies and went to many places, then one day we realized we have something greater than friendship. 

At the beginning of our relationship, we tried really hard to be like normal couples: we went out on dates, hung out in cute cafes, took plenty of photos and celebrated relationship milestones -- all these while my expiring student visa loomed in front of us. Eleven months into our relationship, I had no choice but to go home taking comfort with the promise that we will fight for our relationship despite the distance. In the next five months, we searched for ways to continue our academic careers in the same place. After several emails, applications, and buckets of tears, we found ourselves in Australia. While I was waiting in line at the immigration, with Jay waiting to meet me at the other side of the airport, I remember thinking "I really, really, really just want to be with him." After the immigration officer stamped my passport, smiled and waved “Welcome to Australia!” I collected my suitcases and went out in a sea of new people, searching for the face I yearned the most. 

Nine months after our happy reunion yet we're still finding our feet in this country as we still struggle day by day. And I could write about our struggles forever, but I couldn't care less because I’m just so grateful that I'm with Jay now so everything else doesn't matter. Time and time again, I always find myself thinking along those lines and it always proves true. The past two years with him has been challenging yet beautiful, and I'll do it all over again if it meant being with him through and through.

Day 2: Meaning behind your blog name

For some reasons, my closest friends has started calling me HD four years ago. My name is very short and easy, I didn't really have a nickname while I was growing up so I was fascinated when people called me a different name. It happened at a time when I needed a new domain name because my old blog name was apalling so there yah go. 

Day 1: 10 facts about me

Hello, I'm Heidy. I'm a 26 year- old researcher currently residing in Queensland, Australia. As you can see in my previous posts, I've been overwhelmed by deep thoughts and quarter-life drama but that's not how I used to be. I decided to go back to regular blogging in the hopes of bringing back my thoughts to shallow shores so I can enjoy mundane things around me.  

10 I-hope-they-are-interesting facts about me:

1. I love my job! I'm taking up a research-based phD that does not involve any coursework or any form of examinations so just pure research! I love delving into unknown areas of science, armed with a goal to make the world a better place. I know it sounds cheesy and highly ideal but (who cares! and why not!?) I'll keep this passion with me for as long as I can. 

2. I speak three languages. English, Tagalog and terrible Korean. My Korean is still abysmal, with the intonation of someone from the far-flung areas of the peninsula (maybe North?) with bad grammar but enough to hold a normal conversation with the locals for hopefully thirty minutes. 

3. I'm a slave of Korean dramas! Because they are so addicting, and I need to improve my Korean skills. Haha.

4. My boyfriend is Korean. And I'll tell you more about him soon! 

5. I avoid the sun like a plague. Ironic from someone who was raised in the tropics, yeah. But I grew up with the stigma of tanning and dark skin, and skin cancer fears. Plus Australia gets the harshest sun rays with its UV index going up to 17, and sometimes 20 every summer! Yikes. 

6. I don't like summer. That's it. I hate the heat, and having to bring umbrella rain or shine. I don't even know why I'm here in Queensland haha. 

7. Not a fan of sweets. I used to be a chocolate addict until I got allergic to it 5 years ago. I was once a fan of cakes and pastries but not until I decided to lose weight and watch my diet. Now I don't watch my diet nor count calories but I still can't even finish a slice of cake. It's been four years since I lost that loving feeling.... 

8. I am constantly distracted. Aren't we all? Damn you, smartphone. 

9. I am distraction personified. I have a few friendly colleagues at work who always try to make small talks when we see each other, but I don't do small talks so it always ends up in a lengthy conversation. Whenever that happens, I feel bad that I distracted them for a long time from their work so I try not to do that every day so they won't avoid me haha. 

10. I'm still crossing off my old bucket list. I wrote it seven years ago. What desires do you expect from a nineteen-year-old before she kicks the bucket? Things like, to see Piolo Pascual in person, watch a live concert, I even wrote something as random as owning MAC lipsticks. Gosh I must have been very poor back then. Haha. Nevertheless, I still slowly cross things off because it feels like I'm doing a favor to my younger self.