I had completely forgotten what it was like to be self conscious about your skin. A luxury, I know.
When I was a teenager, I had pimples, sometimes lots of them, sometimes painful, and often impossible to hide. I remember seeing an older relative at a family gathering and her exclaiming, ‘What’s going on with your skin?!’ as though I had any idea, and public acknowledgement of it would somehow make it go away.
The hardest part about having regular breakouts, especially as a teenager, is that there’s no discernible cause. People might insist that your skin would clear up if you would just drink more water, eat more vegetables, cut out dairy, or wash your face with a very specific and usually very expensive product, but the fact is, it’s hormones. And genes. And a bunch of other factors that are entirely out of your control.
But when I woke up at 27 with a painful breakout all over my forehead, chin, chest and back, after having only dealt with the odd pimple for years, it felt different. Surely this doesn’t just happen out of the blue. The entire texture of my skin had changed. It was oily and sore and these pimples weren’t like the ones I was used to. They were painful lumps, in some weird places (on the back of my ear… really?), and after a few days, I realised they weren’t going away. Every day there were more.
I racked my brain for anything in the last few weeks that could’ve triggered it. A face mask? A facial? A new body wash?
I’d used a face mask a few weeks prior, but that didn’t explain my chest and back. It also felt like something had fundamentally changed about my skin – this wasn’t just a bit of a breakout.
Then it hit me.
I had gone to the doctor for a blood test, and when I got the results, it turned out I had a vitamin b12 deficiency. So the doctor had recommended a set of three b12 injections.