As a teenager, I had what many people would call “bad skin.”
Bumps ofcystic acnefilled my chin, and pimples dotted all over my forehead.
It wasn’t much better behind my ears and down my neck.
Courtesy of the writer/Channing Smith
I went back on the pill and intermittently swiped the antibiotic clindamycin solution on my skin.
But the more I did, the worse my acne became.
A selfie of what my acne looked like on a daily basis before my diagnosis.
A selfie of what my acne looked like on a daily basis before my diagnosis.
Then, at 30, I finally got answers when a dermatologist diagnosed me with askin-picking disordercalled acne excoriee.
Sure, I always knew I picked my spots, but I also figured that everyone does, right?
I hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten.
By the time I was finally diagnosed with acne excoriee, I was defeated.
It was the depths of2020, and my acne was at an all-time low.
I was in physical pain every day, and my mental health was in tatters.
Lucky me, I had the cute trifecta of severe acne, a skin-picking disorder, and anxiety.
I already felt like my acne was my fault, so the diagnosis hit me hard.
And, even better, he promised to help… and then actually did.
“Traditional acne is characterized by whiteheads,blackheads, papules, and pustules,” says Garshick.
“[But] it’s much more intricate than just a purely skin phenomenon.”
(If you’re wondering about mine, it’s driving my car alone.)
