Once I ran into a 4 year old who reassuringly assessed my acne ridden face and in sympathy announced, “I had chicken pox too. Don’t worry, you’ll get better.”

Ugh.

With the advent of the Internet, the world I thought was my oyster. Yes, I’d be able to find the cure for acne from some far off land from the one person who knew what to do.

I discovered every beauty internet shopping site and tried hundreds of bottles of potions. Nothing. I consulted a facial specialist and invested $100s on one potion after the next, unfolding the little tissue weight paper information inside the box of exciting user trials facts and evidence proving that this would work. Nothing.

During this time the advent of Proactiv from TV infomercial land was launched. How convincing! I started it and got results. Then with the auto ship the boxes piled up and I couldn’t keep up with the pea size of this and dime size of that. How on earth did you ever empty a bottle? Calling Guthy-Renker was like dealing with the devil. You could extend your auto ship one or two times but that was it missy! My skin was a dry, hot mess and zits were coming back so I quit it.

Back to the Internet and I found an acne website and tried everything I could find from the forum. Apple cider vinegar taken internally and applied externally burned in both places and I saw some results for a few days and then, back to the same old thing. Zitfest.

Could it be that one day I’d be 85 years old with acne?

Now on that acne site, the founder was selling his own Proactiv equivalent and he said to lather on the benzoyl peroxide. I did and hey my face improved. It was zit free. But every time I ran into a friend or saw a doctor they would comment, “Why is your face so dry? Do you moisturize?”

I went to my friend a facial specialist with all the peels and machines who used that buzzing little tool they use for dermabrasion or something. It’s like a little vacuum that peels off dead skin. She was determined to get rid of my dead skin coating my face. She had to change her machine’s filter 4 times because it kept getting plugged from all the dead flakes on my face. Usually she can do several women and not have to change the filter. She finally kicked me out because she feared my face’s dead skin would break her little machine. Okay I guess that I had to face the fact that although I was improved on the acne side, at what cost were the benefits? I’d been left with croc face.