Once Upon A Therapist

"A long time ago something happened in your life. And just with that, your empathy was gone. Forgotten. You had shut it down."

"There are so many things and so many people I don't feel anything about. Anything, other than indifference, to be precise. I thought I should at least be sad about that. And yet, there's still nothing."

"How could you expect to feel someone else, if you don't first feel yourself, and for yourself?"
What does it even mean that you haven't done enough? Enough of what? And compared to whom?
You constantly judge, punish and reprimand yourself for something that cannot live up to anybody's standards. The others, they can make mistakes, and you'd still care for them. But your strict double standards don't grant you the same indulgence when you're the one slipping up.
By trying to explain your complexity with a linear equation you're planting the seeds for a living hell and, more than anything else, you're stealing your own freedom.
Sometimes you're weak, sometimes you fail. It's ok.
You have to start allowing yourself to be you, and not who you think you should be.

You have to start forgiving yourself".

But all I can wonder was: how can I forgive myself, if I don't even know what I've done?