Clear Skin

The grandfather of all zits is currently residing between my lower lip and my chin. He staked a claim exactly at the midway point. Thankfully, I wear a mask all day at work so no one can see this guy. He is an unwanted and unexpected visitor. Well, at this point, he seems to have taken out a lease on the landscape of my face. He is kind of determined to stand his ground.

Now when I was a teenager, breakouts were common. A mixture of stress, hormones, poor eating habits, and greasy bangs contributed to my dalliances in pimple town. I had to learn to lay off of the hair grease just a tad. I had to learn to drink more water. Make better food choices. While my skin was not flawless, it did get to a better place.

But whenever I am especially stressed, this bad boy makes his presence known. He rises slowly from my pores. And I know I am to blame for his extended stay. Because I pick and pick at him. My fingers dance around him and just cannot resist pulling and tugging. Enough of the gross stuff. I need to leave this monster zit alone. Or it won’t ever heal.

And I need it to heal. That requires some work from me. I need to make sure that my skin is clean and then stop picking at my wound. Not picking at things is not my strong suit. I will wear things into the ground. I love to analyze my decisions. Go over them backwards and forwards. But this one just needs to be left alone.

This is not my first battle with an unsightly eruption. It very well may not be my last. But I am determined to handle them better each time they occur. <sigh> Guess, I’ll go wash my face and my nasty hands. #wepreach