Every year, I revamp myself. A spring cleaning if you will.
I take all the different parts of me, I analyze them, and I decided on how I’m going to proceed to better myself. Which trauma will I work on overcoming next? What kind of person will I be now? How have I been this year? Too mean and bitchy (hey, at least I admit it)? Let’s work on that. How many breakdowns have I had? How many depressive episodes? What triggered them and why? What can I do to work through them, so that I can have less (or maybe none at all) next year? I ask myself all of these questions, try to get to the root of every one of them, and then I figure out what I’m going to do to fix it. And it works, it really does.
You have to be willing to strip yourself of all your little facades and face yourself. Because if you can’t be honest with yourself, who can you be honest with? People can change, you can change. You just have to want it. And so, that’s what I do, I fix myself. I take the experience that comes with living life and I use it to learn and improve. It’s an important thing to do, to reflect, to understand, to be able to admit your strengths and your weaknesses, your rights and your wrongs; even if the only person you admit them to is yourself. Maybe you’ve failed in some aspects before, and that’s fine, as long as you use those failures to be better. Much better.
Some things I’ve realized I can never change though. Those essential parts of my character. I’m not friendly, I’m not a people person. I can’t smile on cue or pretend that I like you; you’ll definitely know if I don’t like you. I’m easily irritated and I’m not good at hiding it. I don’t have a lot of patience, for anything really. And when it comes to matters of the heart, I always have my guard up. And that’s perfectly fine. Nothing and no one is perfect, we all have our flaws. If these are mine, then I can definitely deal. Considering how the first twenty years of my life went, it could’ve easily been much worse. At least I’m not a serial killer.