bhugz, you bring back so many memories of myself. I agree with much of what Frances said. It all made perfect sense to me back then too, but it just didn't work at the time. I felt like Humpty Dumpty, too many pieces to fit back together, while holding on to two or three, the other five or six were spilling all over the ground. That was me down there, not some fairy tale story, and it hurt like hell. I started to go out of my mind. I couldn't explain my feelings nearly as well as you have, but you could be talking about me then.
Frances is right on about confidence, begetting, what folks are attracted to. You've probably seen it for yourself. I knew what made people click, I just didn't have it anymore. Now I can see clearly that losing my self-esteem was what crushed everything. I didn't believe in myself. I had no stories to tell. No laughter, no response. I did what Frances suggested. I asked a lot of questions. People love to talk, to be listened to, to share what they know. I had millions of conversations and learned a lot. But, it was never about me. I brought nothing of my own to the table. I was "blank" like you. I was still not doing the one thing I had lost with my esteem, that is being myself. I wasn't me, I wasn't who I had been before, and I didn't like who I was now. I was ashamed to speak, afraid of being wrong, someone else would know more than I did and expose me as ignorant. My attempts at humor were embarrassing failures. There was no part of me I was willing to share with anyone.
Your mention of the divided self really makes me wonder. If you mean what I think you mean, and I'm not certain, then might be able to help. Because I was so disconnected from others, and felt so wrong about who I was, I began to question my heart and soul. Was I really a monster in the making? Was I capable of truly evil things? I was so depressed and unhappy I began to believe I was a creepy Jekyll and Hyde character. That one year or five years down the line I would be a night prowler, a pervert, a rapist, a murderer. I was sincerely afraid of the path I seemed to be headed and no way could I re-direct it. I looked deeply into my soul. I felt what you described as the battle of good and evil taking place inside me. It was very scary. I began to believe destiny had plans for me and I had no choice in the matter. The isolation and lonliness I felt was driving me insane. I fought back. I scoured the depths, brutally honestly, and questioned myself and my intentions. That is how I came to know myself. I came to know I intend no harm to anyone. That I would sacrifice my life for anothers and have almost done so in the past. I found out I care about people and the love or lack of it in our everyday world. It's how I decided to do my part to make the world a better place. It's how I know what depression can do to a person, how I can understand so much about desperation and how to heal myself. It's how I discovered who I am and what I'm about, and how I finally got over the social phobia. I now know myself. But I had to go through hell to figure it out. Is that what you mean? I can relate to so much of what you say. I really wish I could give you my hand and lead you out of the hole. Know who you are. It will all fall into place when you do.

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but rising every time we fall." Confucius