My Adventures With Pim

I have a friend. We have this love-hate relationship. She loves me but I hate her.

I call her Pim Pel but her proper name is Ac Nee. I first got to know her when I was about fifteen. A seemingly innocent little pest, she was. At different times, she brought along some of her friends: the Head sisters – Black and White, and Pa Pule. I knew of other people who had such friends too but they had cooler names, like Zit. Why did I get Pim?

Anyway, Pim was a real pain. She often showed up at the most (mis)opportune time. She was there for my exams, birthday parties and during Christmas. She also came along for my holidays, always the uninvited guest. Worst of all, she was always fighting to be noticed in photos!

It irked me when people started asking me about my friend. A little child with the most angelic eyes asking, “Wha’s dat on yer face?” Or a well-meaning school-mate asking, “Hey, why are you breaking out? You should eat oranges, you know. Do you drink enough water?” The fact was, I did drink lots of water and at that time, I was actually taking two oranges per day (because it was good for bowel movement)!

Pim wasn’t overly dominant, but she was around often enough to bother a self-conscious 17 year old. So, my mother took me to see a dermatologist. You know how doctors are. They see patients and hear their complaints the whole day. It’s business as usual for them. She took one look at my skin with that huge magnifying glass and pronounced, “Small matter, girl. I’m sure it will pass. You’re only 17. I’ll start you on antibiotics. Come back and see me in two weeks.”

And so began my relationship with Tetra Cycline. Good friend, she was. Tetra stayed with me for three months. Pim wasn’t fond of Tetra, so Pim grew more and more distant, much to my delight. Problem was, when I stopped seeing Tetra, Pim slowly crept her way back into my life.

So, back to the dermatologist I went. I was 18. She basically told me the same thing and put me on antibiotics again. Aah, hello, Tetra! Will you stay with me again for three months?

With Tetra around, Pim left, but only to return yet again when Tetra went away. It was a vicious cycle. I don’t remember now, but I might have gone on a total of three or four courses of antibiotics before deciding to give up on the dermatologist.

In my early adult years, I started going for beauty facials. The owner of the beauty salon, Grace, was a tall lady who always wore very fierce (translated: inches and inches of) makeup. She had a whole facial ritual: Cleansing, steaming my face to open up the pores, clearing the skin of impurities (to put it mildly), applying electrical pulses on the skin to stimulate the nerves, facial massage and finally a very soothing mask (during which I would doze off peacefully). I visited her salon loyally every month for three years but still my problem persisted.

I toyed around a bit with foundations too which only worsened my facial problems. By this time, I was catching glimpses of Ac Nee. I stopped my appointments with Grace. I had to admit to myself that her facials weren’t helping much.

One fateful day, I was out and about with a girlfriend in London and, in a sudden wave of reckless vanity, I asked her to guide me with choosing a foundation. I wanted so badly to see how I would look with flawless skin. We ended up at a Bobbi Brown counter. I got a little makeover and for the first time in a long, long time, my skin looked flawless. No pimple scars. I was sold and promptly bought the pressed foundation for use on special occasions.

But guess what, Ms Bobbi Brown? I broke out like crazy after that! Major! Pim had fully morphed into the very very evil Ac Nee and I found out that Ac actually had a proper surname – Vulgaris. It was a big rave party with other friends like Pus Tule and No Dule. It was the most horrifying, traumatising, depressing time of my life. I guess the worst feeling of all was that of helplessness. How do you stop it?!?

I sought the help of another dermatologist and he prescribed me a very potent drug which made Tetra seem like candy. Enter Accu Tane a.k.a. Ro Accu Tane. Accu stayed with me for a couple of months. Accu was able to tame Ac Nee but it was a good six months before my face fully cleared. The dermatologist also did chemical peels on me to help expose the fresh layers of skin. In those six months, I became a recluse and I never left the house except to see the dermatologist. I emerged from that experience a broken spirit and the scars remind me every day of those awful six months. Now do you see why I was so paranoid about applying foundation and blusher on my face for my wedding?

I do still have breakouts, but only occasionally (touch wood!). I know there are much worse problems in this world, mine pales in comparison, but please allow me to indulge in a moment of self-absorption. Suffering from severe acne does destroy one’s self-confidence. All those years of suffering have made me into a very self-conscious, shy and sometimes withdrawn person.

Self-conscious: “She’s talking to me, but her eyes are on my pimples.”

Shy: “Please don’t look at me.” “Oh, I just want to melt into the wall!”

Withdrawn: “Don’t come near me. I prefer my own company.”

Everyday it’s a slow climb getting out of this abyss called insecurity. On good days, I climb up four steps, but on bad days when I wake up and see Pim on my face, I slide back two.

When I was younger, I had secretly wished I could be a model or a flight stewardess, living the glamorous life and travelling all over the world. Of course, I never pursued those paths nor did I take the initiative to pursue those paths. I always saw my bad complexion as an obstacle. Simply put, I blamed it all on Pim.

I remember reading a woman’s magazine years ago. It featured this young pretty model-cum-flight stewardess on the cover. In it, there was a short interview with her and one of the questions posed was, “Do you ever have pimples?” Her reply: “Pimple? What is a pimple?”

The cheek! Such arrogance! I hated her!

Well, a few years later, she got married to this filthy-rich retired politician who was a quarter of a century older than her. Last I checked, they’re still happily married and living the glamorous life. Hmm, some people just have all the luck.

Argh, life is so unfair!

Posted in history with acne