I used to believe that I was defective, incapable of
obtaining and keeping the same things that supposedly normal people liked to flaunt
as though that was the definition of success. By all measurements to western
society… I was a failure… broken marriage, broken mind, struggling finances, lack
of motivation at times, and a death wish.
Broken.
It’s such a powerful word with a strong sense of permanence.
If something is broken, it might get fixed, but it will never be good, whole,
or worthy...
