Here’s another excerpt from my book ‘Future Has-Been’, this time from the ‘Body Dysmorphic Disorder’ chapter.
I’m sitting on the couch with my leg propped up; looks like I’ve pulled another goddamn muscle. This has become a frequent occurrence ever since I began my nightly ritual of half-assed two-hour Insanity workout marathons. No pain no gain though, right?
My Toppik hair fibers are blinding me in a river of sweat. I’m also experiencing an allergic reaction to my overseas (and likely counterfeit) Propecia while simultaneously hyperventilating from my incredibly tight Man-Spanx undershirt. I can see my nose throbbing, as blood red as Rudolph’s from too many layers of Clearasil, with my one functioning eye.
The other is swollen almost completely shut due to using some expired under eye cream that got into my lashes and quickly spread. This eye reacted by shutting itself off as if to say, “I don’t wanna see anymore of this shit show, thanks.” Clearly, I am a very confident young man. I wasn’t always this together though!
For years, I’ve struggled with both real and imagined body image issues. A life spent fluctuating fifty pounds up and down over a matter of months left me genuinely incapable of seeing what was truly there when I looked at myself. Instead, I’d see some funhouse mirror like caricature. In my mind, I looked dangerously similar to the body made up of oversized ovals and squares I’d draw in elementary school self-portraits.
As I’ve gotten older, the dysmorphia has only gotten worse. Especially damaging were focus groups conducted to decide whether I had the “IT factor”. I assumed this factor entailed having the personality of a creepy clown, therefore it was something I also assumed that I did unfortunately possess.
Turns out, it meant finding out whether I was someone people would lust after, or at least take seriously, when singing shitty pop songs. The answer? A resounding no from all but a few senior citizens who felt I was a “sharp looking young man with strong brows”. Wonderful.