I'd like to start by saying, I apologize for taking so long to respond. i hope you'll pardon me. i haven't been emotionally well enough to do even that properly. Within the past few weeks I broke a 2 years and then some streak of not cutting. I've been left alone without anyone i care to speak to for so many days.. i've been crying what seems like every few hours. all the time feeling this weight on my chest like someone were pushing the air out of me. all the time my eyes about ready to spill over. even now. i feel like this. but i'm trying. so bear with me..

Thank you. for your message. knowing my post inspired you to register just so that you could respond is somewhat heartwarming.. part of the reason it's taken me so long to respond is that in general i try to respond to every section or point a person makes.. and your message, while touching, is incredibly long. Forgive, me.. but i'm only going to touch on a few points.

The way you managed to find a coping mechanism in song got my attention in particular. i used to believe drawing or poetry to be outlets for me but i feel nothing in them anymore. and it makes it all the worse.. it can be a wonderful image a brilliant poem but i have no satisfaction from it.. it doesnt make me feel better. it doesn't change anything..

Solitude. also stood out to me. for the past 3 years or so, I've come home from school, walked strait into my room. and remained there for the rest of the day. online. I have 3 siblings. It's only my brother that ever attempts to reach out to me. but even that's not often and i can't express how much it means to me except by hugging him whenever i get the chance..

"my other me" i understand to some degree. but let me break down how my mind works for a moment.
i am nearly constantly. completely void of emotion. simply existing. going through motions like some kinf of robot. it doesn't phase me. most of the time. Then, there will come weeks. or months. of horrible. horrible crippling depression.. where every ledge becomes a siren. every street. every knife and bottle of pills i see. where i'm tempted to steal alchohol just to see if it would make me forget things for a while like people are portrayed being able to do with it..
then once in a very rare while i'll have a day or two (or more often) a few hours of unexplainable happiness.
but once in a rare while. once in a long. long while. drawn out to once. rarely twice in a year. there is rage. horrifying. psychotic rage. where the strongest desire i have is to destroy everything around me. it happened most recently while in a classroom my mother used to work in..
it seems. that there are always two forces working in my mind. and one is much much stronger than the other. the stronger is a self-sacrificing urge. and the feeble is the selfish urge. always there. making the sacrifice hurt. making everything all the worse. poking at me. until a day comes. like that day in the classroom where it bursts through and I'm ready to demolish everything and couldnt care less for the consequences. when i'll suddenly feel very confident. and strong. and self-righteous. like another person. like how i was before things in middle school happened.
I call this other thing. the other me. she has no name. but she once was me. she perhaps is what i am supposed to be.. but the empath in me has a much much tighter hold on me than she does. she just tears away at the empath until i can't help but give in. and it's without warning. usually in the middle of a blankness period..

my other me sits and whispers things like 'ignore him, he's ignored you so many times' 'curse her out' other cruel things. but the empath wins. in all but the rarest circumstances.
still the empath washes my life to this unspeakable grey. this monotone that's not worth suffering through all my self-sacrifice and all i've put up with.. when she's there things are bright. and there seems to be purpose. i feel like i have power. and it's tempting to just stay that way. i've wondered at times if i could. but the empath is strong. very. very. strong. and smothers that idea before it get's past just that. the idea.

But let me come at this at a different way too. there is perhaps. another voice. more like your voice. one who is directly harmful to my being. with no happier, tempting side. one who constantly whisper 'kill yourself' 'there's nothing for you in this world' 'you will die alone' 'no one loves you, they just use you' 'no one could love you. you're too inhibited' 'no one really cares' 'they're all sick of you' 'they don't need you' 'you're just making them worse' 'why don't you leave already' etc..
a very horrid voice. a voice which can conjure graphic images in an otherwise abstract mind of self mutilation and violence. the one who prompted me to cut myself perhaps a week ago today.

I've though too, though minorly on if this world were to end. just what my life would have been like. and knowing the empath is in control i simply sigh and there the weight is again. nothing will change. nothing can change. the empath is too strong to allow me selfishness. and change would involve selfishness.

I wish that like you i could perhaps turn these things around. but all parts of me are too stuck to change on my own. and i don't know what outside source could help. it could not be optional. it would have to be forced, there's just no way i can see myself gathering the strength to push through the empath for anything or to hold back the horrid little voice..

I wish i could learn to turn round and grab hold of these things leashes. but as things stand I am the prisoner.. and until i can find the strength to so much as plan an escape... it will remain that way.