When I awoke this morning, my codependent cardigan was not draped at the end of my bed. In its place was a black silk shirt.

It’s a bit like waking up to find my husband is now a hot summer fling, which I neither remembered or wanted. It can mean only one thing: summer has arrived and that means change.

On the one hand, I love summer. It brightens my mood and always transports me back to childhood — because that was the last time I enjoyed a normal summer without rituals.

My cardigan is not the only summer change, of course. My entire ritualistic life gets the good ole Spring Clean.

Mirror feng shui

In 2024, I have transitioning into summer down to a ritual. It’s a bit like monthly cramps except less often. I expect three to four days of pain, where my mirror has PMS and my face takes on a shade of pink poloni sausage, before my bi-annual game of mirror feng shui soothes it all away.

As of today, my grooming rituals have officially entered summer mode. What this means is I’ve endured the aforementioned four nerve-cramping days and have performed my feng shui routine. Bogey Maid’s hormones are restored.

So what is my mirror feng shui?

It’s a simple process, starting with furniture sliders. I discovered these nifty little disks only four years ago and they transformed my BDD life. Within three pushes and one pull, my vanity mirror no longer faces East, now it faces West, thereby restoring the perfect light-to-shade ratio and direction.

Four Layers and a polonaise

Six years ago, my summer transition had a very different feng shui component.

Instead of furniture sliders, I’d be retrieving my summer furnishings. By the time I was finished, my windows rivalled the dresses in Gone With The Wind — petticoat and all.

Layer one: a net curtain hung close to the glass. A superficial layer of camouflage to appease the neighbours, aka curb appeal. I didn’t want the curtain twitchers asking why mine hung flacid and to excess.

Layer two: a white roman blind. Also for curb appeal because it was mostly useless for blocking sunshine.

Layer three: a blackout blind, which was really never more than an overcasting blind. I cut if free from its roller and instead stretched its rubber-backed fabric over the frame like cling film, pinning it to the frame on all sides so the sun’s nimble fingers couldn’t curl around the edges like a sneaky window peeper.

Layer four: Thick, fully lined curtains drawn so tight they overlapped the centre seam.

Now that I see these layers written out, I wonder, why didn’t I build an internal wall out of plywood?

All in all, I’d say I’ve achieved remarkable progress. Sure I lead a ritualistic life, however, I have plans to transition out of rituals within two years. Watch this space — or better yet, subscribe.

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2 responses to “Cardi’s and Mirror Feng Shui”

  1. Rosemary Gazzoli Avatar
    Rosemary Gazzoli

    I am going through the exact same thing. It’s so exhausting. It has tinged every joyful event in my life. My son got engaged yesterday. His uncle put a montage of pictures to show on their television. I was horrified at what I looked like in the pictures with me in it. Again this disease has sabotaged a very joyful event. Will this ever end. Am in therapy now and on a higher dose of SSRI. Doing better and trying to do exposures since I have also avoided all reflective surfaces in order to cope and live my life. But last night brought it all flooding back. Am I as ugly as what I see? How can my brain play such tricks? When will this be better?

    1. Carrie-Ellise Avatar

      Rosemary,

      First of all, congratulations on your son’s engagement, and thank you so much for commenting. It sounds like you went through one hell of a flooding exercise with all those photographs. My BDD cringed in vicarious empathy when I read your comment. I was put in a room of mirrors one time, so I know how that can feel.

      Does it ever get better? Gosh, how many times do we ask that question? It goes hand in hand with “what’s the meaning of life?”

      Six years ago, I finally stopped asking both questions because I determined that, for me, nope, it doesn’t get better. I’d become a husk of a person, ghosted myself into isolation, and lived in perpetual darkness. All the fight, hopes, and dreams that kept me going as a teen? Poof, gone. I never imagined I’d be doing my makeup two foot from an unobstructed window, and yet that’s my reality today.

      As you’ve experienced, better is a step-by-step process, sort of like an advanced game of snakes and ladders.

      Exposure exercises work wonders. They take time, and yes they are exhausting sometimes, but they are effective.

      Here are some things I’ve done to desensitise myself to photos, using rituals to my advantage:

      * Never look at photos in a raw state.
      * Have my husband put a sticky note over my face.
      * When I’m ready to look, I blur my eyes and stand back.
      * Then I gradually unveil, prepared to abandon the task if it overwhelms.
      * Now, I even have fun with imperfections, like sabotaging my hair before a photo.

      Does it get better? Absolutely. When? It takes time. Celebrate every success. Be kind to yourself. Patience is key to success, but it will come.

      Even when it feels like you’ve gone back to step one, you’re always building new ladders and learning to avoid the snakes. At some point, those successes compound.

      Setbacks are part of the process. You’re taking positive and proactive steps with therapy and SSRIs, even with a giant snake or two getting underfoot, and that’s how it gets better.

      Carrie-Ellise

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