When I was a teenager, I suffered from anxiety, depression, and what appears to have been obsessive-compulsive disorder (disorders with which I have learned to cope, but still battle from time to time even now). I hit the age of 16, and suddenly a massive load of pressure and stress collapsed on me. There was long-enduring family dysfunction and brokenness. There was my own sense of deep sinfulness and a longing to “get it together” spiritually, even as my efforts became frustrated again and again. There was isolation and loneliness. There was an awakening to the truth of my own mortality. This was a heavy load to bear at such a young age. I confessed my sins again and again, only to find more in need of confessing. I purged my belongings. I washed my hands again and again. I attempted to scrub my mind of any and all sinful thoughts. I read the Bible and attended church, desperately anxious for a sign of God’s love and favor. I was a living shell of a person.