It’s like that dream where your teeth are falling out one by one and all you can think is, “now how will anyone ever love me?!” and then you wake up and you swipe your grainy, morning breath tongue all across your top set of teeth and smile, reassured that someone, will indeed, love you, at some point.
Except this is real life. One afternoon, without really thinking about the consequences of my actions, I started scratching my miserably itchy cheeks (on my face). When I looked in the mirror a few days later, I learned that my skin is falling off, in the sneakiest, creepiest way. One. Flake. At. A. Time. I’m devastated but I’m mostly disgusted with myself. This is worse than falling teeth and the idea of the skin flakes hanging out everywhere, all dead and stupid and dirty, and, UNDER MY NAILS, makes me want to vomit. To make it worse…I touch it…and that’s when I also realize I’m probably turning into an elephant. Never have I felt scalier, drier skin than I did when I ran my fingers across my face that afternoon. I have rosacea.
Here’s the thing…it’s not a big deal. So why in the world would they give this condition a name that sounds really dramatic? Rosacea sounds like a venereal disease you get when you have sex in a rose bush with someone who has herpes. Apparently, I have to cut some crap out of my diet and put on some superman lotion like 75 times a day. I also have decided not to look at myself in the mirror until the doctor tells me I’m pretty.
The good news is October is right around the corner and I’m going to be in costumes all month. I’m thinking of revisiting my Elephant in the Room costume. I don’t feel like enough people, “got it” back in 2010.
girl walks into a bar... 