Learning to Appreciate

I don't like what I'm seeing in the mirror. All the image gets is a sigh from me. A sigh of disbelief. On some occasions, I would joke on how ugly I was as I look on my reflection in the mirror. I don't really mean it, I mean me being ugly. But what do you call a face that seems like an overripe banana with all the brown spots? My acne scars. It wasn't that bad, or maybe a little more than bad, but I'm not used to it. You see, I used to have a beautiful, clear skin and I had never experienced something like it before. I do get pimples once in a while but if I do, that is only about one or two at a time, mostly a sign that my once in a month friend is about to visit once again.

Now it was so noticeable as this unwanted occupants seems to find their perfect place on my face. I don't know how to stop it but I know how it all begun. I noticed it all started when I keep on losing sleep. Aside from my morning case, I had worked extra hours on some nights and that's about 8 hours to 12 hours four to five days a week. But only when my office sends me to emergency cases. But with someone who's a bit of an insomniac like me, it took a toll on my face.

A few months after I'm getting used to my acne-scarred face, now I have another reason to stress myself out and give out another sigh of disbelief. And that's whenever I see my scarred body every time I get ready for a shower or change my clothes, my unwanted remembrance from suffering to what I have been told as worst case of eczema. This is what I got from not seeing the doctor earlier. I, instead decided to what I thought was just ordinary rashes to go away until it went up to my upper body. I lost count of how many times I had been poked with a needle that day when I finally decided to seek medical help. I can feel the needle every time it goes under my skin. It was probably about 30 times or more with 2 vials of medicine used on me.

Before getting help from the doctor, all I cared about is to get well, to be assured that I'd be alright. That it wasn't something serious. At those times I don't worry about the thought of getting scars as the eczema heals, I just wanted to get over it and not be bothered by it every night as I go to sleep.

I still feel bad sometimes whenever I see all the marks left on my skin, specially the biggest scars on my thigh and waist. It travels me back in time, when I was scar-less.

I am trying on a herbal remedy now to help my scars completely heal. It might take some time, or maybe a lot of time before I see results. Or it might not work at all. But now it doesn't matter if it works or not. Or if some scars disappears and some may not. These scars had taught me something. I had learned how valuable life can be and it doesn't matter how my skin had changed. It taught me to appreciate myself, even my flaws.