Myrl Jeffcoat myrlj@jps.net
26 mars, 2005
Addicted To Plastic Surgery
A nip here, a tuck there. Science is making it easier and easier to
change the physiques we were born with. But you may not know that some people
literally can't help taking advantage of it. Studies estimate that 2%, or more
than five million Americans, have a disorder which can cause an addiction to
plastic surgery. It's an expensive
habit, and a dangerous obsession.
We talked to many people who had made a few changes to their bodies, but
they, say their physicians, are not plastic surgery
addicts.
And neither, say some, is another, more infamous woman:
Surgeon Dr. Lorin Eskenazi says, "What I would say would be a red flag is
someone who's had multiple surgeries and is dissatisfied with all of them."
Mental health professionals say that continual dissatisfaction - the
chronic need for more cosmetic surgery - is a symptom of a known medical
condition called body dysmorphic disorder or B.D.D. It is an
obsessive-compulsive disorder, that doctors also call "broken mirror"
syndrome.
Its sufferers are often people with perfectly-aligned features who
believe there are drastic flaws in their appearance: crooked noses, blotchy
skin, and assymetric chins no surgeon can resolve because the problems don't
actually exist.
"The obsession is very powerful, so people are easily distracted by these
thoughts, and they have a very difficult time concentrating on much of
anything," says Scott Granet of the Obsessive/Compulsive
Foundation.
Scott should know. His own struggle with B.D.D. began in college. He has
a full head of hair, but he started to believe - really believe - he was going
bald. He visited between 30 and 50 dermatologists for scalp treatments.
"They couldn't see any problem. They couldn't see any hair thinning," he
says, "and wondered why I was obsessing about this."
It took Scott 20 years to realize the problem was in his head, not on
it.
He now runs a local foundation for people with obsessive-compulsive
disorders and works for a clinic in
He claims that 25 to 30% of people with B.D.D. make suicide
attempts.
One woman who we'll call Jane admits she's had 17 cosmetic surgeries, and
was literally addicted.
"I've had my breasts lifted," she says. "I've had liposuction. I've had
varicose veins removed." And she's had dozens of skin procedures.
"I was dissatisfied. I felt I didn't look right. I still didn't feel
comfortable in my own skin," she says.
Now 46, she has struggled with B.D.D. since she was in her teens.
She missed special occasions, holidays, birthday parties - even her own -
instead spending hours in front of a mirror, putting on makeup, asking friends
constantly if she looked okay.
"I was just hoping for that moment I looked good because the next moment
I would be unhappy again," she says.
What may have triggered this? Jane - part Armenian- was adopted by a
family with more Aryan features and, never having met her real family, just
instinctively felt she should look like her adopted one.
She wanted to look more like a California Blonde. She never accepted her
natural features until it was too late.
The struggles of Jane and others like her are fed in part by a minority
of plastic surgeons, who either don't know or don't care to hear that what their
patient needs is not more surgery, but more therapy.
Last Summer, a
Even for those who do get therapy, the disorder remains a constant
struggle. One those caught in the throes of it say they may never overcome.
"I don't think this is something I can get over," says Jane. "The only
thing I can do is keep re-adjusting."
Patient advocates are
pushing a plan forcing cosmetic surgeons to make prospective patients get
mental evaluations, but surgeons and patients are likely to be resistant,
given the extra cost.
