Little Orange Pill: One Year Later

Wow time flies! Remember when I started accutane this time last year? Well, I finished it at the end of May, and I keep wanting to write a bit of a review and survival tips for those thinking of taking it themselves. I was looking for an honest portrayal when I was making my decision, and I couldn't find one. Most stories online were of the "this ruined my life forever" variety, which freaked me out!

The Cliffs Notes version is this: I experienced a lot of unpleasant side-effects, but from where I sit today, it was worth it!

I was a mess going into it. There aren't a lot of pictures to use as "before" shots because I hated the way I looked so much. And those feelings were at the surface of some very deep feelings of dissatisfaction in who I was.

My acne ended up being much more stubborn than I anticipated and instead of taking accutane for 16-20 weeks, I was on it for 8 solid months.

Before // October 2012 // I can't believe I'm posting this

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One month in, all I noticed was dry skin. The acne was still there, and I was still breaking out. But the rest of my skin was dry. The nice thing about this month, though, was that my backne did clear up pretty quickly.

Two months in, same. My face was less red, but the pimples were still definitely there and multiplying.

Three months in, the rate of breakouts seemed to slow.

Four months in, I was finally starting to notice a difference.

Five and six months in, there were steady improvements, but I still had acne.

Seven months in, I was so over the side effects and my acne was almost gone. I really wanted to stop, but my dermatologist convinced me that one more month would really clear everything up. And what do you know? It did!

The eight month, I recognized myself in the mirror again for the first time in a long time! I can't overstate how good that feeling was!

After // July 2013

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That being said, I was so so so happy to be done taking that medication. Dry skin was a given. I  went through one tube of chapstick a month and one container of lotion every two months for the duration.  After a lot of trial and error, I amassed a collection of my favorite products. My skin was so sensitive and dry that some products would sting when applied, and only the really good products would actually moisturize for more than a few minutes. I mean, I would put Aquaphor on my hands at night and it would soak in within 5 minutes!

Clockwise from top left: 

-Redken moisturizing shampoo

-TIGI S Factor "Serious" Conditioner. My hair was so crispy dry on accutane and I only washed it once or twice a week. When I did, this is the only conditioner that even touched that dryness. It's amazing that my hair would actually feel soft and not crunchy when I got out of the shower.

-Jergens Ultra Healing body lotion. This was lightly scented and went on without stinging. It was moisturizing without being greasy, and absorbed well.

-Refresh Plus eyedrops for my dry eyes. I actually ended up having to get prescription Restasis because it was so bad in the end.

-Eucerin skin cream for the dry patches I would get. They were almost eczema-like and would mostly pop up on my arms, ears, and face.

-Olay Regenerist micro-sculpting cream (fragrance-free) for my face. So many scented moisturizers burned when I applied them to my face. This one didn't (most of the time) and it was so luxuriously moisturizing without being greasy. That being said, when even this stung my skin, I applied straight up coconut oil or aquaphor before bed.

-Saline nose spray to help prevent the nosebleeds that started about three months in.

-Not pictured because it was always in my pocket: chapstick! For the first few months, I really liked Blistex Cold & Allergy. But after a while, that wasn't touching the constant peeling. I picked up some Whole Foods brand oragnic vanilla honey lip balm on a whim, and fell in love. It worked so well! Brownie points for the fact that it was practically edible, with an ingredient list containing coconut oil, beeswax, olive oil, shea butter, natural flavor, cocoa butter, hemp seed oil, Vitamin E, vanilla extract, and honey. I'm sure I ate so much chapstick while I was on accutane...

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I also can't understate chiropractic care while I was on this medication. I've had IT joint trouble and hip and lower back pain on and off since high school, but it ramped into high gear after about a month on accutane. It was so awful, it hurt to sit, stand, and walk. I got a recommendation for a great chiropractor and haven't looked back. I'm so thankful I found her when I did!

The dry mouth was terrible, and I never did find a great solution. I'd sleep with water next to my bed because I'd inevitable wake up with cotton mouth several times each night. The months I did go to accupuncture and get herbs, I would notice an improvement, but I had trouble going consistently with my old job schedule.

I would be remiss if I didn't also mention depression. I was totally depressed this winter. Worse than I have been in years. Now, there were a lot of factors going into that, and a lot of life circumstances weighing heavy on my heart, but I can't deny that accutane probably also played a role. I felt much lighter after stopping the medication.

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I've been off accutane for 4 months now and I love my skin! The dryness is finally gone and I'm back to washing my hair every other day. To be fair, I should mention that I do usually get 1-2 pimples a month and the cause me anxiety not because they're so huge, but because I'm always worried that they are the start of all of it coming back. So far, so good, though. The pimples I do get are much smaller and go away much faster than they used to, and even my scars are still fading every month. Like I said, it's good to recognize the person looking back at you in the mirror!

On What Makes Me Feel Alive

You've seen this quote by now, right? On Pinterest or Facebook or Instagram? I encourage you to read the whole post, but the gist is this:

Being a geek is all about your own personal level of enthusiasm, not how your level of enthusiasm measures up to others. If you like something so much that a casual mention of it makes your whole being light up like a halogen lamp, if hearing a stranger fondly mention your favorite book or game is instant grounds for friendship, if you have ever found yourself bouncing out of your chair because something you learned blew your mind so hard that you physically could not contain yourself — you are a geek.

As I sit on the brink of a time of beautiful, blissful unknown, I'm thinking about these things: What makes me tick? What makes me come alive? What am I really passionate about, as cliche as that sounds?

The answer, it turns out, is starting to take vague form as I spend my Memorial Day afternoon with my nose buried in a book: one of my first loves. In fact, if I had to sum up my favorite childhood memories in one sentence, I would say that I was happiest playing outside at twilight, reading a book, or helping in the kitchen. Is this accurate, Mom? Oh, and if family home videos are any indication, I also spent the majority of the summer of 1992 "helping" my mom take care of my baby brother.

Can that much change? I love exerting myself to the extent that I feel heart-thumpingly alive, gulping fresh air and becoming acutely aware of my own pulse. Twilight leaves me simultaneous happy and nostalgic and makes me long for a backyard to play in. The alchemy and art of baking is my go-to stress relief. Babies never fail to make my very heart feel a little lighter and more hopeful.

The only love I didn't really discover until later was the ocean. My first experience was with the brown shores of the Gulf near Houston and tears, screams, and heart palpitations ensued until my dad picked me up and held me safe in his arms above the dirty water which was surely, in my solidly Midwestern mindset, teeming with creatures who wanted to eat me. The only name I could give them at the time was sharks, which I had little knowledge but great fear of, probably thanks to the fact that The Little Mermaid was my favorite Disney movie. (I even had the accompanying book memorized and I remember telling my friend's big sister that I could read it to her, when really I was just reciting it by heart.)

Then for some unknown reason, I signed up to go to Seacamp in the Florida Keys in high school, saved up my paper route money, and found myself facing the very thing I used to be terrified of. There I found that the more I knew about the sea, the less scary it became. Indeed, I find that an ocean fix every few years reinvigorates me. Few things make me happier than salty air and the sound of waves lapping the shore.

So. Babies + ocean = working as a travel NICU nurse in Hawaii, right? Obviously my dream job. (I wish!)

But really, my interests allow for a lot of interesting combinations.

Biology is beautiful. Few things compare to the lightbulb moment that occurs when you finally glimpse the breadth and depth of the pathophysiologic symphony explaining the signs and symptoms you see in a textbook case living and breathing before you in the exam room.

Literature is beautiful. I recently re-read The Great Gatsby and the great American novelists remind my just how far I have to go to call myself a writer in any true sense. Words on a page hold great power and the true masters have harnessed great joy and grief in black and white type over they centuries.

Life is beautiful. It's no less stunning in the miracle of sprouting seeds able to produce a veritable cornucopia of culinary variety when exposed to sunlight and water, than it is in the first human heartbeat, visible on ultrasound at six weeks. I'm in awe every day that anything ever goes right in nature when growth of any kind requires millions of small and large interactions and reactions and offers thousands of chances for error along the way.

History is beautiful. Anthropology was an unanticipated and enjoyable discovery, threaded throughout my honors courses in college and opening my eyes to just how big this world is. Yet, even a thorough evaluation of your own personal history gives pause and takes the pressure off of every moment of this present life. From learning about your grandma's childhood to tracing your own genealogy to the point at which you can identify yourself with a particular region of the world and a particular combination of genetics and a particular culmination of world events that all contributed to making you uniquely who and where you are today, there's always more to learn.

Finally, I'm happy to digest all things pregnancy and childbirth related. And those NICU babies... the moment I can get a parent to understand the what's and whys of their baby's condition and help them bond in a way they hadn't before... those are the moments that job was worth it.

I'm so far from a personal expert, but these things really fascinate me. Honestly, a lot of the lines between travel, food (from planting to harvesting to rendering edible), writing, giving life, saving lives, and living my own life don't feel all that distinct to me.

My go-to books for leisure reading and re-reading often fall between fact and fiction: Barbara Kingsolver, Michael Pollan, and Bill Bryson take up their fair share of valuable bookshelf space in our one-bedroom apartment. I feel alive, albeit a bit vicariously, when I read their words and feel like I'm a part of their experience. Or when the potential to be a part of a similar experience is re-discovered within me.

How is it that Michael Pollan can make gastronomic anthropology so easily digestible, as it were, for the general consumer? And how, exactly, can Bill Bryson cover the vast domain between a Midwestern childhood, travel writing, Shakespeare, and, in fact, a Short History of Nearly Everything (quantum physics and all) and manage to make me laugh out loud while reading? These are people who truly love what they do and do what they love.

I don't know if these passions can culminate into one amazingly fortuitous and prosperous career. I don't know that they should, really. It's just good to remember sometimes. (And if I could just manage to find some sandy shoreline near all the people I love, everything would be even sweeter.)

Lovely

This simple truth from the Jesus Storybook Bible's version of creation has been pressing on me lately:

We are lovely because He loves us.

Not because we're beautiful inside or out.

More importantly, when we aren't beautiful inside or out.

God created us. And He loves us. So we are lovely.

This is a hard, hard truth for me to swallow and I'm kind of buried in it right now. Bear with me as I try to preach the Gospel to myself here.

I thought I had the self-loathing thing down pat. For years, I used the label of eating-disorder "survivor" to pacify myself. Like, I'm not nearly as bad as I used to be. So I'll just sit here in my survival shell instead of pursuing things of true and lasting beauty??? Ummm I can't believe I'm typing all these ugly thoughts out. But I know I'm not alone.

The truth is, I have struck a balance between bouts emotional overeating and a regular exercise schedule. My weight has fluctuated within a normal range for the past few years: a little skinnier in the summer, a little fluffier in the winter. It's a cycle completely dependent upon self-control and lack thereof.

Then, 2012 became (among other things) the year of unrelenting acne. Stress, hormones, and who-knows-what else made a perfect mess of the part of me that's most visible to the world. Unlike a sweatshirt that hides a few extra pounds, there has been no hiding this acne. Now that I'm on accutane, it's even worse because I'm still breaking out, but my skin is also ridiculously dry and flaky, so makeup just accentuates the dryness.

To be honest, though, even these things are small matters compared to what lies within. At the same time my acne grew out of control, my marriage was imploding and exposing the idols in my heart-- revealing the worst of me to myself. The past year has made me feel quite un-lovely in deep ways I never thought possible. What I once found decent about myself, was now wretched. It just wasn't good enough. I wasn't enough inside or out. For anyone. I wasn't enough of a wife to hold my husband's attention. I wasn't a smart enough nurse. I wasn't a dedicated student. I wasn't a good friend. I wasn't a good daughter, sister, co-worker, you name it. But truly, all those things aside, I wasn't enough for me.

My confidence was once at least held up by a semblance of denial and a healthy dose of, if they don't like my sweatshirt and jeans, that's their problem, not mine. Now? It's all out on the table and I'm trudging through the thick of it and I'm finding that I really can't fix this pain. I can't will it away. I can't outsmart it. I know that even if and when this accutane does its thing, I will feel so un-lovely if nothing changes in my heart. This holiday season, I ended up in tears in the bathroom before every single social event we had on the calendar, crying that I just wanted to feel beautiful for one day. Is that so much to ask?!

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When I disrespect myself, I'm saying to God, look, I know you tried and all, but you didn't do a very good job here. I know better. This is ugly. All of it.

The thing is, he already knows our hearts are ugly, because we are humans and sinners by nature. But he offers us grace upon grace upon grace in spite of that. In fact, because of that. I see now how much I need it. God sent his Son to justify our legal standing before the gates of heaven, and the Holy Spirit to sanctify our daily lives that we may constantly repent and turn toward the Gospel.

This is me repenting, I guess. Over and over again. I thought that if I was self-depreciating enough, people would have no expectations. That way, showing up somewhere with frizzy hair and no makeup would be better than not showing up at all. Joke's on me, though. I worked my way in a downward spiral until I felt unworthy of anything and incapable of true beauty. My sin is exposed and I cannot get stuck in this cycle of seeing my sin, skipping the cross, and moving straight to repentance and behavior modification. (Thanks for reminding me over and over again, Jami). This pattern will lead straight to despair every. single. time. Because I will never been good enough, but He is.

I am lovely because He loves me.

I am lovely because He loves me.

I am lovely because He loves me.

I did nothing to deserve that, and that's okay. I need to need my Savior. I am less than nothing without him.

Little Orange Pill

This past Friday, I started taking Accutane (well, the generic version). It was a long time coming, decision-wise and jumping-though-hoops-wise. In the end, my hesitations stemmed less from the risk of physical side effects and more from the fear, is this just vanity?

I mean, I'm 27 years old. I've struggled with self-image for a long time. We don't live in the matrix and this little pill isn't going to alter my reality. Once my acne is gone, I'm sure I'll find something else to fixate on. And I know that's a sin.

My value rests in Christ alone. Well, it should. Why do I have so much trouble believing that sometimes?!