There was something off; I knew it. I couldn’t quite name it. But it was deeper, darker than what had previously bothered me. I was diagnosed with depression at fifteen and generalized anxiety disorder at seventeen. Depression, being familiar to me, seemed like a well-worn jacket weighing me down. Anxiety seemed like a scarf, too tight, wrapped around my throat, restricting my breathing. I learned how to manage and to wear them. But this… this was different.