Proud. The one word that when I think about it, brings up so much sadness and anger. I have never felt proud of myself, but I poured my pride into other people and made sure those around me knew that they were enough, doing all the right things and creating a great life. Meanwhile I stood there telling myself that I didn’t deserve happiness, that my trauma wasn’t real, that I don’t get to be sad because I have too much going for me. Well, you know what, sometimes the people that seem to have it all together just don’t. When I pictured my life, I didn’t see a broken woman fighting a war against her brain…the anxiety, depression, ptsd, and addiction. I saw someone who was living the life of her dreams, but present Sara doesn’t measure up to what I wanted my life to look like, so now I work to become her. I can’t continue to gaslight myself into thinking that my experiences aren’t valid, that the feelings I feel towards them are too much…that I don’t have the right to be sad and take resources away from someone more deserving than myself. I tell myself every day that I am worth it, that I am loved and that I am not too much but it hasn’t stuck…I don’t believe those things. I feel the opposite so deeply and I can’t shake it off. How the fuck did I get here, to this place where I can’t even believe that I’m worth fighting for…sure I’m getting help for my problems, but in doing that I don’t feel proud for reaching out, I feel shame for not being able to process my own damn emotions by myself. I am tired, I am sad and I don’t know when I will be myself again, but despite it all I’m still trying. Maybe one day I will believe that I am enough and worth it but until then I will remind myself daily with the new habits, I’m creating by giving myself 10 uninterrupted moments each morning and evening to write my thoughts and feelings.  Processing my emotions will take time, and learning to trust that my experiences and reactions to them are valid may seem impossible right now, but one day, everything will be okay.