Each day I go to therapy and tell my doctor how it happened just like it was really happening.
Over and over I relive what happened so that I may come to terms with it.
I am not ashamed, nor am I scared to admit it now that I had Body Dismorphic Disorder.
Some days I still get the feeling of being alone and miserable.
I still get the feeling that I am unworthy of the love I am shown by everyone around me.
And some days I still get scared to look at myself in the mirror.
I get nightmares almost every night, but the nightmares are frequent now and slowly fading.
It’s hard but I am stronger now.
It’s exhilarating to know that I am less afraid.
Recovery. It’s a slow process but I know I am getting there.
And soon I will be free.
And although what I did to my face gave me these scars and irreparable damage, I will not hide.
It’s ironic that these scars associated with ugliness are the ones that remind me that I am not.
And I will carry these scars for the rest of my days.
My name is Mina and I had Body Dismorphic Disorder.
My name is Mina and these are my scars.
FIN
YOU ARE READING
Unpretty
Mystère / ThrillerIn this day and age, what truly defines being normal? What would you do just to fit in? (FIN)
