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Several years ago, as an addition to my depression, I was told I had Body Dysmorphic Disorder. I would look in the mirror and see, not my face, but blemishes, invisible blackheads, and hairs that would be out of place. I saw fat cheeks, I saw a disappearing chin. I picked and scratched and tweezed for hours, and what I never saw was the beautiful, young, foolish woman doing that to herself. After years of denial and then treatment, she is more visible. When I look into the mirror, I see a face that is just starting to allow itself to be seen. I see recovery.