Today.

Today I spent 20 minutes staring blankly at myself in the mirror, convincing my reflection that even if the lady at the doctors office told me my BMI is too high I'm still worth something to someone. I'm still pretty. I'm still every bit as funny and interesting and kind and a good person as I was two years ago.

Today I spent thirty minutes crying about the balance in my bank account. Because after skimping, and saving, and trying and clawing and climbing up a never ending mountain, its still not enough. And somehow that is always my fault. I don't spend all the money. But I'm blamed for all the things we can't afford.

Today I spent an hour crying because I feel unimportant again. I feel small again. I feel like a girl trapped in a room, trying to make herself smaller and smaller so that she disappears. This isn't a new feeling. This feeling creeps up on me every few months, right when my good mood is in full swing. I go from standing tall, proud of everything that I am, and suddenly I am crumbling. I fall apart.

And right now I'm falling apart. I hate being an adult. I hate being alone. I hate feeling like I'm screaming and waving my arms and no one notices me.

I AM important.
I AM strong.
I AM an adult.
I AM good enough.
I AM NOT worthless.
I LOVE MYSELF.

I think.