The year was 2014. I was 19 years old. I was sitting in my 8-10 p.m. freshman math class, unable to think straight as I anxiously shifted my focus from math to pulling at the hairs that make up my naturally thick eyebrows.
To say that I was anxious at this time would be an understatement. I was anxious about a lot of things. Math class, for one.
I was also experiencing severe intrusive thoughts and compulsions, something that I would soon learn was OCD. I was sad, lost in an untreated depression, feeling too much and yet numb to certain things.
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