Your Eyes Are Liars

There's a need to feel beautiful because the face is the first thing we see. Forget those clichés about beauty being measured by the soul and character. If that was true, you wouldn't be suffering. Beauty is found in the face and body and seen by the eyes, yet yours are liars. What do you see that's so atrocious about your face? Why do you cry when you look in the mirror? I can't imagine being bothered by my own reflection. It seems so crippling and demanding. I've noticed that you lose sleep because of it. You stare in the mirror searching for your ugliness, something that's invisible to many. I wish I could give you my eyes so you can see the truth.

What makes your eyes lie? It seems that body dysmorphic disorder is the true culprit, the one who steals the truth from everyone's eyes. As you know, it's a mental illness that makes a person obsess over minor or imaginable flaws of their body or face. It's on the obsessive-compulsive spectrum as a person will experience obsessive thoughts about their appearance and as a result, will develop ritualistic behaviors to try to hide their flaws. I've noticed that every night before you go to bed, you check the mirror six to eight times trying to find the source of your ugliness. The mirror can be your friend and enemy. You touch your nose bridge, in public mind you, just to inspect for any deformities. You believe there's a lump on your nose or your facial features are disproportionate, like your lopsided eyes and uneven jaw, so you'll do whatever it takes to make these thoughts dissolve. Sometimes, you'll feel those thoughts creep up in your mind and they'll hold you hostage for days. Some days, these thoughts choose not to disappear and instead decide to move in and make houses for themselves without permission. I know you don't want them there, but it's beyond your control. While you recognize that these thoughts are irrational, for some reason it became your new logic. What lies behind those smiles and throaty laughter is pain and sorrow. The day you were diagnosed with BDD was a day of relief, happiness, and sadness. You knew you were a part of that statistic, where hundreds of thousands of people are diagnosed with BDD. You ignored those who told you it's a self-esteem issue because you knew what that felt like and it didn't feel as intense and as hateful as this. You are not vain, mad, nor insane. Vanity is the complete opposite. A vain person sees their own beauty. For you and plenty of others, that's a complicated task because your beauty is non-existent and how can you find something if it doesn't exist? That's why you look in the mirror for hours, wondering when your eyes will find something attractive and that's worthy to look at.

And, there are times when your thoughts become life-threatening. Those trespassers go inside your mind and tell you to end your own life! In those moments, knives are not dangerous because if you were to use one of them, it would erase the misery and despair. It will hurt for a bit, but eventually, you'll be free of pain, free of looking at the hideous being that stands in front of you, free of life. You are also a part of another serious statistic: approximately 80% of people with BDD have suicidal ideation. It's strange how a life-threatening illness was caused by a few children who called you ugly throughout your younger years. It goes to show that words have immense power and can cause devastating consequences.

Suicidal thoughts? You've been there. Attempts? No, but you were close, a little too close. But, you thought about your family, especially your mom who would've been left alone. She wouldn't be a mother without you. You also thought about yourself and the goals that you want to achieve. You wouldn't be able to do any of those if you were dead.

You are now going to therapy and although it's been 3 months, you still feel shattered. Your self-esteem is being built, but it lacks a sturdy foundation. The suicidal thoughts have lessened, yet the thoughts of being ugly and hideous are coming in full force. I always wanted to see what you see, but I don't want to anymore. Your eyes are liars. I wish I could give you mine instead because if you can see what I can see, you'll find the beauty that your eyes couldn't.