Halloween provokes a couple of scares here and there but, if we’re being honest with ourselves, there’s something that’s scary all year long: Acne. Almost a year ago, I decided to break up with the wretched thing by starting Accutane. If you don’t know what that is, you’re either extremely blessed or lying. Accutane is, como se dice, the most beneficial thing that I’ve ever done but the worse thing I’ve experienced. Or, in alliterative terms, it’s a particularly potent pill prescribed to people with persistent pimples. Conclusively, Accutane clears chronic acne. It’s just too easy.
As I reach the end of my Accutane journey, I have to admit that my relationship with it has been complicated. I know that sounds like the excuse your friend Sam gives you when you ask about their ex but let me explain.
I didn’t just wake up one day and decide to go on Accutane. In fact, even if I had woken up with such an epiphany, I most definitely could not randomly acquire Accutane. It took years of low self-esteem, months of dermatologist appointments, a dozen different attempts at reducing my acne, countless bloodwork, pregnancy tests and insurance changes before I could remotely qualify for Accutane.
Throughout high school, I dealt with a lot of turmoil regarding my skin. I constantly ached to start Accutane, but my mother refused to comply. What’s that phrase? Her house, her capsules? Something like that.
Consequently, I was not only jealous of my classmates with clear skin but of my friends who’d taken Accutane and benefited from it. Then, in college, it seemed like no one had acne. Somehow everyone else’s blackheads got the message to pack their bags, but mine was just getting settled. It affected the way I presented myself, thinking that my acne would always be the center of attention no matter how I behaved or spoke. It wasn’t until my first job at the Florida Senate that I decided to formally break-up with acne’s grasp on my life; I shouldn’t be walking into work thinking about pigmentation, pimples or peroxide face masks. I started the lengthy, grueling process and within a month, I was on Accutane.
Here’s where the real fun starts (fun here being used in an incredibly sarcastic manner). If you’re familiar with Accutane, or if you’ve ever typed it into a search engine, you probably know that Accutane has plenty of side effects. The basic rundown is dryness (of lips, nose and arms), joint pain, immediate sunburns, headaches, hair loss, redness, gingivitis and many other wonderful symptoms. I felt like a creature from some Lord of the Rings type world: no hair, afraid of the sun, extremely dry, cranky from headaches, frequent bleeding from the mouth and slow due to joint pain. Smeagol, is that you?
I started Accutane in February, a month before quarantine started. Unfortunately, upon going back home, my new dermatologist ignored my previous dosage, significantly lowering it. Talk about Doctor Miami. This means I was taking a sufficient amount to feel side effects, but not enough for my acne to get the hint. This picture was taken in June when my progress should’ve been more prominent.
In late July, the doctor caved and increased my dosage dramatically. Three months later, although the process is not completely over, I can officially say that I’m comfortable in my skin.
It hasn’t been the smoothest journey (that’s a skin pun if you missed it). I still can’t leave my house without lip balm, sunscreen and water, or ingest any substance that harms my liver. (I meant Tylenol, what were you thinking of?) I have to answer questions every month about the adverse effects Accutane has on fetuses and pledge to leave the Earth if I get pregnant. My fear of needles hasn’t reduced as much as my acne despite the monthly bloodwork, but at least my insurance representative knows me personally.
Yet, I’ve grown to like pictures of my face and not worry about my skin during first impressions. My make-up routine takes two minutes, or the amount of time it takes me to put on mascara at a red light. I’ve also discovered that the front-facing camera does serve a purpose.
Beyond all of this, I feel proud of my skin and the journey we’ve been through.
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