When I was 23 years old, my fiancée broke up with me for good. I sat at my desk and struggled to finish my graduate school work while the diamond engagement ring sat in a drawer right next to my desk. My anxiety level had gone through the roof. I had a really difficult time focusing on my work because I kept having a tape play in my head: “She’s broken up with you. She doesn’t love you any more. You suck. It’s all over for you.”