Dear Diary, I Can’t Sleep

I used to hate it when people used the line “I need to fix me”, like if there’s something inherently wrong with them. Society always tells us there’s nothing wrong with you, or you don’t need fixing because your perfect just the way you are, but really we’re all just broken pieces trying to be whole. Sometimes we really do need fixing, for lack of a better word.

I admit there’s something wrong. I’m not happy and I need to find whatever is that makes me whole and that makes me happy. I need to fix it. I need to fix whatever is causing this unhappiness with myself. After all, it’s like fixing a broken window pane or fixing a fridge I need to fix me. I’m not saying that I want to be perfect, perfect really and truly does not exist as much as we try to give that impression. Nobody’s Perfect. Only God is perfect. The universe, Allah, Buddha, whatever you believe only he, she or it, is perfect. I do need to find whatever is not making me happy and I need to come to terms with the fact that I am indeed human, that I’ve made mistakes that I have regret, that I have a conscience, and I feel remorse for my actions.

People find that hard to believe, one person in particular, that I’m capable of feeling remorse for my actions. While I may not regret some of the experiences I’ve had, I know many can only dream of doing that stuff and I was brave enough to go there, but I regret it and I don’t like that it colours people’s impression of who I am even though I am I’m no longer that person. In order for people to see that I’m not that person, I need to see it for myself. I’m not perfect but I can be happy.

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