I began to become conscious of the way my body looked in the fourth grade. That was the moment when I started to compare myself to other girls, and from that point on, I never stopped. It progressively became worse as I got older. I would spend hours getting ready for school in the morning -- changing my clothes and changing my hair. I would get so frustrated that I would have an emotional breakdown because I felt so poorly about myself.

I would spend hours looking in the mirror analyzing my face, nitpicking everything I didn't like -- my nose is too big, my mouth is crooked, my chin sticks out too far. I was convinced that the right side and left side of my face looked drastically different, and would feel incredible anxiety when someone sat on the "bad" side of my face. I never wanted my picture taken, and would dismiss anyone who gave me a compliment, playing it off in my head as them just being nice.

I would spend hours sitting in front of my laptop, recording videos of myself, just to see the way I looked from all different angles. It sounds so strange, but to me, this was normal behavior.

The lowest point for me was my freshman year in college. It was the point when years of self-depreciating was beginning to affect the way I was living my life. There were points when I felt so frustrated with the way I looked that I couldn't muster up the energy to go to class. I was beginning to cut myself off from social interaction and spent the majority of my time in my room. I didn't want to be seen.

Years of keeping all of these thoughts to myself led me to my breaking point. I broke down in hysterics in front of my roommate, who was caught completely off guard. I couldn't blame her because I had never mentioned any of these feelings previously. I kept it all inside and it had finally taken its toll. My roommate suggested I talk to a therapist. I took her advice and have been talking to one ever since.

Through therapy, I began to learn that I had a skewed image of myself. Apparently, I don't see myself the way others see me, which is still a concept I'm trying to wrap my head around.

I was never formally diagnosed with Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD), but I don't have to be because I know it is something I have. Basically, BDD is an intense obsession over a flaw in your appearance that impacts daily living. The behavior I have described above reflects the behavior of someone with BDD.

The worst thing I did while struggling with these preoccupations with my appearance was not confiding in people I cared about. I bottled these feelings up in hopes that I could deal with them, but it became too much for me. Luckily, I have gotten better, but it is still an ongoing process. I hope that anyone who is struggling with anything in their lives confides in people who care about them and seeks professional help.

Please don't make the same mistakes I did.