It’s OK to still get spots at uni

You wake up to the juddering screech of your alarm. You twist yourself out of bed and set about evolving from a yawning wreck to a functioning human.

You go for a wee, obviously. Then, inevitably, you look in the mirror and are confronted with your own face. Except it doesn’t look like your own face. There’s something growing out of it.

Maybe it’s in that awkward enclave between your nose and your cheek, or perhaps it lies a bit below your lower lip, as shown below.

This kind of monstrosity isn’t as rare as you think

Maybe the red-and-yellow orb of pain has sadistically decided to camp out on the very forefront of your nose, lending you an apt nickname along the lines of Rudolf the red-nosed Fresher.

In any case, the spot will leave you feeling socially crippled for the rest of the day.

But fear not. Throughout that interminable period in front of your reflection – where you wince at your newfound ugliness – one thought should bring comfort: you are not alone.

More than 80 per cent of 11 to 30-year-olds are affected by acne. Bear in mind those figures encompass all ages up to 30 – spots aren’t just the scourge of hormonal teenagers. Most people’s faces are sporadically invaded well into their twenties.

For 60 per cent of cases, there’s also the unwelcome phenomenon of ‘backne’ – a term I, for one, use in the confused hope a flimsy pun about my body will somehow make it look less disgusting. The chest is another unfortunate location, with 15 per cent of cases flaring up there.

What is particularly worrying is that 92 per cent of acne sufferers have felt depressed, and 14 per cent have even felt suicidal.

It is data that seems even more tragic when one realises the vast majority of acne treatments result in at least a 50 per cent improvement in symptoms in the first three months – acne, then, is almost always very treatable indeed.

There are various gender-specific coping mechanisms too. For girls, a dash of make-up can obscure even the most visible blighter. For guys, a smattering of stubble is usually opaque enough to do the trick.

However, a plaster and an elaborate tale of how you walked into a sharp tree-branch this morning doesn’t work too well – I’ve tried.

The next time you wake up with a ghastly protrusion and think “I’m too old for this shit”, remember: you’re not special. The attendance of tertiary education doesn’t exempt you from the laws of human biology. We all get ugly sometimes.