You know how it feels to dislike the way you look. You feel the pressure to look a certain way, to be a certain shape. So it would be easy for you to dismiss my intense obsession with my appearance as vanity.
You could wonder why I take medication to cope with thoughts experienced so universally. Or reject the idea that feelings of ugliness could equate to a clinically diagnosed illness.
But you never have. Instead, you've perfected the art of emphatically disagreeing with my stubborn belief that my face is monstrous, whilst not indulging my compulsive behaviours.
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