Trigger Warning: Mention of Self-Harm From a young age, I began finding things along my path. I’m not sure which came first – depression, anxiety, or obsessive-compulsive disorder, but they clung to me. And over the years, they swelled and shrunk at varying rates, but I could not shake them altogether. Each in turn flourished, multiplying symptoms. It became too much to carry in my hands, out where people could see. I felt the need to keep them out of sight, and tucked them into a backpack. Through the highs and lows of my childhood, this weight remained settled heavily on my shoulders. In junior high I found myself so…