I know that complaining about a pimple belongs in the first world problem category, but this was no ordinary pimple – as you will soon discover.

It all started one night when I was getting ready for bed; I noticed a small, hard, red lump forming on my chin. I get them every now and then – blind pimples – no biggie, right? Sure, they’re sore and, if you squeeze them, can get a bit unsightly, but if you leave them alone they generally disappear within a few days.

It took every ounce of self-control that I had, but I resisted squeezing it – even though it got slightly bigger each day.

After a few days I realised it had started to diminish in size. In another day or two it would be gone and, for the first time in a long time, I had resisted the temptation to squeeze!

I had won…

…or so I thought. When I woke up the next morning my pimple had redoubled its strength and come back to kick my arse.

It was about mid-week when I decided I just couldn’t take anymore – my pimple was still growing and I was tired of the horrified gasps of co-workers and the constant mocking from my children. I drove home from work like a woman possessed; I had only one thing on my mind…it was time to squeeze.

My family could sense the shift in my mood. They knew something was up as I walked through the house with purpose.

My daughter followed me into the bathroom. She had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

I will spare you the image of what happened next.

As always my regret was immediate.

My chin was so destroyed there was little I could do to hide it. I tried using makeup, but it never quite blended with my skin tone and only seemed to accentuate the pimple.

With no way of hiding it, I tried different ways of distracting attention away from it.

I tried garish clothing…

a push-up bra with generous padding…

giant earrings…

…but nothing could distract from the abomination that was my chin. I had to find a way to make this sucker disappear. Google led me to some kind of zit forum where people were writing about the wonders of tea tree oil. I figured I had nothing to lose at this point, so I begged my husband to pick some up on his way home from work. I waited impatiently for it to arrive and when it did I took it with grabby hands and slathered the oil all over my bleeding open wound – yes, I had squeezed it again. Then, I waited…

…and miracle of miracles – it dried up my pimple in less than an hour!

I couldn’t believe it! It was some kind of magical cure! So I dabbed my giant ulcer all night long, bathing it generously in the tea tree oil. To say I went overboard would be a gross understatement.

I awoke the next morning to discover that not only had my dried-out pimple turned into an ugly black scab, but I had also managed to burn the crap out of the skin surrounding it by using too much tea tree oil (which I have now learned was supposed to be diluted and applied sparingly with a cotton bud).

But don’t worry, I knew exactly what to do.

First world problems really are a luxury, click here to donate to the East African Appeal.