At 16 I knew it all. Everything. There was nothing you could have said, or done, that would have impressed this super cool chick. Of course that was on the outside. Inside I was fearful, insecure and needy. The combination of these two, may be the most confusing part of this dis-ease. An ego maniac, competing with an inferiority complex.
In other words…. A drunk or addict, just waiting to happen.
When your insides don’t match your outsides, you look for something to bridge the gap.
I found my ‘something’ in a bottle and a tiny little folded envelope.
Once consumed, gone was any sense of inferiority. As a matter of fact, I was equal. Maybe for the very first time. Of course if one was good, two was better. Hell, why stop at two?
More became my mantra.
More became my lifestyle.
I never did fit in my skin. It was something I felt my whole life.
Except, of course, when I was using.
Since then I’ve come to understand there are many of us, who don’t fit in our skin. You can’t tell by looking at us. It’s a disorder that lies below the surface. You can’t see it. At least, not at first. But you can feel it. You know it’s there.
And therein lies the problem.
For those of you who don’t have substance abuse issues, picture this. You’re born ugly. Hideous even. You’re ashamed, and you never talk to anyone about it. One day, quite by accident, you come across the cure. It’s been there all along. Your mothers face cream stands on the bathroom counter and you think, she uses it every night. It seems to make her feel better. With caution you pick it up and tentatively rub a little blob onto your cheek.
The cream is warm and comforting. It feels good. When you look in the mirror you notice the results, immediately.
Holy Shit!
Is that really you?
Your eyes sparkle. Your cheeks are pink. A smile widens on your astonished face.
Wowza!
This stuff is good shit man.
You can barely contain yourself. You can’t wait to see your friends and hangout. Your shyness vanishes and your inhibitions flee. The thing that was tightly wound within you, relaxes, and lets go. You can breathe. It’s intoxicating. You can’t get enough of it. For the very first time in your life, you feel free. Pretty even.
Confidence blossoms.
The world is yours.
Then one day you notice the face cream is leaving a nasty little rash. Red spots and hive-like bumps, cover your cheeks. You decide to lay off the stuff, for awhile. Before long you begin to feel sick. All the old doubts and worries, creep back in. Fearing the worst, you look in the mirror and sure enough, your worst fears, are confirmed.
The hideous face you were born with, is staring back at you.
The nasty rash forgotten, you reach for the face cream. The jar is light and your throat constricts. Wrenching the lid open with a frantic twist, you note the jar is almost empty. You scrape every last bit of cream from the jar, and lick the lid.
For a minute, the warmth is back. Only this time it cools quickly, giving you nowhere near the comfort, you got the first time you used it.
Panic settles back in, as you glance at the mirror again.
The outline of a beautiful you, fades quickly. The rash returns, only now the hive-like bumps have turned into blisters and your face morphs back into the hideous look, you were born with.
You scream pounding your fist on the mirror. It’s so unfair, you hiss. For the very thing that’s brings beauty to your hideous face, also, destroys it.
Your life becomes a constant tug of need – vowing never to use the cream that blisters your face, and yet, not being able to leave the house without it.
This my friends…. is addiction.

Lorelie Rozzano.
www.jaggedlittleedges.com