"Only that which is the other gives us fully unto ourselves.."

All this while i have been wondering if i had been afterall the one that has been sick; and all that i have been accustomed to were not so much for others but for the minds of my own. For the interests of one must, afterall, come from within.

And how may i be tempted as to be begged upon the very path of sadness, but the oneself that truly despises all? I cant describe the despair enough, for it has been intermixed with all that pride, and the resultant? One of self-pity. It is truly this that must have made depression narcississtic. What i could not achieve in theory, i could neither have made it in practice, and still i torment myself with this neverending duel. Why? I so much as want to help, but i think i cant and have never been doing a good job. I can't, and yet i still wish to. Can you forgive my stubborness? Both of You?
As i know this speaks of faith that requires more than just my muscle's strength (of which isn't much; as seen from the bruises on my back and the unequivocal defeat at the wrestling match), i cant help it but feel that this is all but a funny suspension in the abyss.

There was this tale about a woman who had met with a violent accident, and upon this unfortunate event a Doctor blessed her with perfections of his skill. That she was able to get back her life was a miracle, yet no one would have expected her to be back with the beauty that she had never had before. Or so it was said.
For everytime the woman looks into a mirror of all shapes and sizes, she sees the most disfigured face that horrifies the very eyes of her soul, but she could not understand why people indulged her with sugar and spice, and all things that are nice. She thought they were all just too kind to tell her the truth. Being too embarassed and diplomatically nice, they should at least spare her with the list bit pity that could have consoled her mishaps. Sometimes they sound so convincing, she could believe them. But the mirror always haunts her and makes her look down and cry.

(this tale from some "twilight zone" late-night tv show. the story may a bit modfied but the gist is there as i think it is. i watched it so long ago.)