My main regret

Empathy, while you might try your hardest, is impossible to achieve fully when you haven't experienced anything like what the other person is feeling. It's sad, and every time someone tells me about something bad they're/they've going/gone through I feel so guilty that my life has been so easy when theirs hasn't, and so ashamed that I reach the limits of what I can do to help so soon just by listening. I abhor each and every time I've had to say "That sucks". And sometimes, it's more than just being unable to help. I... hate emotionally hurting people more than anything else, whenever I stumble in my ignorance it feels so much worse than anything that could happen to me. My fear of death comes only from this.

All my beliefs,everything about me... I wonder if it would have been possible had I lived a less damn sheltered and peaceful life, I can't escape the doubt which wriggles in my mind calling me a hypocrite, saying that the morality I don't believe in and the safety I'd so freely trade away are not the things which are truly petty, but my rebellion which may only be product of a mind which has always been surrounded by safety and morality. I know also that part of me relished in and held onto the pain of my depression, finally there was something which might bring me closer to understanding someone else's pain, and to the end of my self-doubt. I believe my fascination with physical pain stems from the same source.

I don't want to be ignorant and incapable, I want to understand and to help. I seek to understand everything, it hurts that I can't even fully understand something so important as you.