Cowardly Beasts

There are beasts in me that poke when I’m not looking. Yet when I try to find them they have long gone away. Monsters that disturb my inner peace and try bring me down in guilt over things both done and undone. What is the nature of those beasts? Why do they bother me so, if they can’t even stand up before me?
I feel it is me. That I don’t really like to know my wrongs and weaknesses, but hide it through a layer of objectivity. Yet I so much yearn to know. How can such conflicting realms exist within a person? Is it perhaps that a man’s soul is not only divisible, but rather even impossible to unify into a single piece? I can not know whether that is true.
Just earlier I felt a lack in me. That if I had been a philosopher, always engrossed in their internal world, I would have come through the difficulties I've had with more constitution. I felt a deep pang of regret.
Yet when I went to look for that regret so I could ask it questions, I did not find it any more. It's a mere beast in me that pokes holes into my shell. Then again it is also me. What purpose could a person have in poking holes in one's own fortitude?
Perhaps it is fear that should I not consider those things, I would be hurt once more, this time more badly. Then again, I feel little innocence at this point anyway, so what exactly is there to lose?
Would I become a worse person if I knew those things? A more cynical me, that seeks to profit at others' expense? Or perhaps that is already who I am, but simply can't come to terms with the facts?
I can not deny being weak and sinful. As with any person, I am not perfect and perhaps never was. If that is the case though, then in addition to repenting and learning to be better, I must also accept that maybe there isn't a better past that I could escape to. That maybe if I returned to the places I was, I would see them different and no longer take part in the magic that I saw when I was there last.
Perhaps it is nature itself that brings me down like this, embodied by mere instinct that deems me as one lacking in worth?
My knowledge of nature does not support such a hypothesis. More than anything, nature is a matter of both consequence and opportunity. One that is not dead can always still do something, such is the law of the world.