on narratives and being a good person

When I started seeing my therapist a couple years ago he told me that one day I would look in the mirror and say "hey, this human looking back at me is a good person."  Now, I don't care about that.  I just see a person in the mirror.  I am no longer under the delusion that I can or should be anything, let alone something so arbitrary as "good."  So, what am I then?  Well let's start with the old narrative that used to run through my head, which looked something like this:
    I am a bad person and all my natural instincts end up hurting me and everyone else around me.  I can't act right, I cant speak right, I step on my words...I am bitter, jealous, angry, deceitful, dishonest, petty, resentful.  It takes every fiber of my being to be a decent person.  From the time I wake up til the time I go to bed I am fighting urges to do bad and hurtful things and it is only through extreme concentration and effort that I can be a functional person.  

the narrative continued in this way: 

    Because of all of this I will be forever alone.  Once people get to know the real me they will lose interest in me, they will realize how fucked I am, how much work goes into being the only halfway decent shit I am, and they will run away from me never to return.  I will never truly know anyone or be known by anyone, all my relationships will be temporary and fleeting.  Romantic love and deep lasting friendship are things I will not know, they are not for me. 


So where does this leave me now:

I question these narratives from the past but they return to me sometimes.  As I fight with my best friend now I wonder if I am fundamentally flawed, which is not something I even believe in.  I wonder why I talk so much shit, why I run my mouth so often, why I can't just learn to shut my fucking mouth for a while.  I wonder why I act shitty.  I am not sure.  I don't hate myself like I used to, but I don't want to hurt people anymore.  I am in the most beautiful relationship of my life with Snail.  What we have will remain with me until I am dead, no matter what happens.  It is so easy to be sweet to them and for them to be sweet to me.  I am not sure why I am not so sweet to everyone else.  I feel like I do it sometimes....I dunno.  I had a friend text me that I am a good friend yesterday, and another today, and a third on the phone 2 days ago, but something about being really close and seeing people often makes it really hard for me, but then I am left with the paradox of missing them if I don't see them often.  Fucked if I do, fucked if I don't.  Today is another day, and I can completely destroy the image staring back at me from the edge of the mirror and pen a new fiction about myself to be lived across the many other fictions passing in and out of my life