vulgaris

Since I was roughly 14 years old I have struggled with the common ailment called acne vulgaris, zits for short. It has consistently pained me and embarrassed me. I once even had someone I liked dub me the "Pimple Queen." High School clearly was hard. Painfully, it is oftentimes associated with pubescent teenagers but it is not always the case. Here I am, a 21 year old with the face of a 15 year old. I expected, like many of my companions, that I would simply grow out of it.
Does that mean I didn't waste an insane amount of money on products in an effort to combat the infection of my face? Of course I did. Have I grown out of it? Has anything legitimately worked for me? Perhaps for a small amount of time, maybe a month or two of sheer bliss but nothing much longer.
So I ask you, how? How do I combat this!? Have I not suffered enough?

Here's a funny little anecdote for you;

A few months ago my face broke out, bad. The worst it's been since my sophomore/junior year of high school. It was nothing short of a complete embarrassment for me to walk out in public. But alas, I went. Because I have never been one to let fear get in the way of me living my life (Ha!). Anyway, I had to return something at Ross because I was strapped for cash like I usually am. There was a man in front of me in line. I thought nothing of it. I did what I went to do and was on my way. In the parking lot, however, the same man stopped me. He was a stout Mexican man and spoke to me in spanish. He asked if he could speak to me and I said sure, why not? I figured he needed directions or something but I should have known something was up by the way he had kept staring at me earlier. Anyhow, the conversation was vague. He was asking something about if I knew someone who was pregnant and I was utterly confused. He kept talking about (get this) how I should ask my prego friend if I could kindly take their placenta and rub it on my face. Here's the point where my brain's gears were grinding and suddenly came to a halt. This man was talking about my acne! Not only that, he had told me to rub HUMAN PLACENTA on MY FACE to CURE my ACNE. The man was kind and gentle, so unlike many people whom I later told the story to told me to react ("Tell me you hit him," or "You cussed him out, right?") I simply thanked him and walked away trying very much so not to cry.
But honestly, now. Does this tell you anything? Consider this. Acne harms people mentally more so than just their dermis. It harms their psyche and their confidence to a level of desperation, to put human placenta on your face is nothing sort of sheer desperation. It is very saddening to me. Have I reached that point? Goodness, no. Have I considered it? Jokingly, afterwards but never seriously. Sorry, but I don't have the gall to go through with that. The idea (understandingly) sickens me.

But really, I've tried countless things. And Proactiv sucks. Maybe it works for those sensitive skin folk with a tiny little zit or two but it dried my skin out something painful. I couldn't move my face or moisturize without a searing amount of pain and I don't care what you say, that is in no way good for your face.
I, like a good amount of people am vain and sick. I strive for, not exactly perfection (I long ago learned that just wasn't within my grasp), but simply to look good. I am sickeningly green with envy of those whose face glows in the sunlight where mine only shows the tiny little shadows of bumps and redness I can't always hide.
I'm tired of slathering my face with make-up in an effort to hide the inflammation, scars and pockmarks. I am completely sickened by the fact that oftentimes I photoshop my face in pictures to appear smoother.
But really, at this point, what am I to do now?