So in the months before I was due to go abroad again for the first time in a while ( I took a hiatus from overseas travel for 1 year to save money and sort some shit out and it was the worst year of my life), my skin erupted into a minefield of cystic acne. Every morning turned into full blown anxiety sessions, where I would run my fingers against my skin and notice a new eruption beneath AND above my skin. At one point, I had a cluster of cystic acne on my cheeks and an infected cyst on the beauty spot next to my nose. It was carnage. I actually did not leave the house for one week straight during the worst of it because makeup couldn’t even cover the mini planets that were polluting my face, it only made it look worse.
During the year of 2016, I experienced the following things:
- Working 2 jobs, 7 days a week at ungodly hours. One of the jobs I hated so much that on my drives to work, I would picture myself driving off the various bridges I had to cross every day.
- A very, very bad “relationship”.
- Little to no sleep every night.
- Weight gain & poor diet
- An overwhelming level of anxiety and stress, both of which I can’t explain the sole root of. Possibly an amalgamation of all the above factors.
What I tried over 3 months, which did not work:
- Vitex tablets to regulate my hormones naturally.
- Major diet changes, clean eating and no dairy.
- Exercise minimum 5 times a week.
- Fish oil, Vitamin C, Magnesium and Fibre supplements.
- Hundreds of products, both expensive and cheap.
- Wearing no make up
- Facials, microdermabrasion, micro needling
So late January, I hopped on a plane with the antibiotics my doctor had prescribed for my skin and a cream that cost me $50 Australian in a tiny tube, terrified about how I was going to the Caribbean and would be wearing no makeup at the beach for 15 days. I had also ended that bullshit “relationship”.
I only had the cream and antibiotics with me. The antibiotics course finished after the 2nd day. The cream was forgotten at the bottom of my luggage. My second day in Miami, I started smoking cigarettes again (after having quit for a year). Drank all day and night on an unlimited drinks package on the cruise we were on, ate TERRIBLY and drank zero to little water.
After 6 days in the tropics, on the edge of the British Virgin Islands, I took a photo of myself to send to my mum. Her reaction was priceless.
“Oh my God, your skin… you look amazing.”
Not a single pimple graced my face. All that remained were the scars my outbreaks had left in their wake. Over the course of 5 weeks, I only had 1 cystic pimple that appeared and lingered for 3 weeks.
I went clubbing with no makeup, that’s how much my face cleared up. Before, you couldn’t pay me to leave the house with a full face of MAC. Okay, I’m lying, every girl has their price.
Everything came down the lack of stress, the sun on my skin, not worrying about what was going to happen the next day or the next week, no dickhead stressing me out and most importantly, not working 7 days in a job I absolutely DESPISED.
I have since quit that job.
But for reference, here is the development of my face.
1 week before I left, 2 days before I left, 6 days into my trip, on the plane back home.
Ladies & Gentlemen, if you have tried everything and nothing has worked… cut a ticket, pack your bags and fly the fuck away.