I have no idea what to title this.

I think the reason I've been so unhappy for a good year or so now is because I've been so focused on myself.
Okay, I'm not unhappy like miserable. Maybe unhappy is the wrong word, because I have been happy, maybe not like ALL the time, but I have been happy. I really have. I think maybe the word I'm looking for is unfulfilled.
Yes, that's definitely it. I've been so fixed on myself. I hate it. If you ask me, that's the worst way to be. I learned three years ago that the easiest way for me to be more joyful and at peace than I ever thought possible is to lose myself in helping others. That's what I need. That's what works for me. That's what God made me for.
But it's like I hit a wall this past year. I don't even want to bring it up, it hurts too much. I don't like talking about it. With anyone. I don't even know why, it doesn't make sense.
The wall is guilt.
It's kind of a long story, and I don't even really want to talk about it. Like I'm sitting here alone in my room, just me and the computer, and I can hardly bring myself to keep typing.
Guilt because... I don't even fully understand why. Guilt because I'm selfish and comfortable while so many people struggle every day just to stay alive. Guilt because there are children without parents who love them and are able to take care of them, children who rejoice for even one meal a day...every couple of days, even. I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate all the need, the desperation, the cries for help. I hate this feeling I have in the back of my eyes, in my throat, of HELPLESSNESS. I feel powerless to do anything, to change anything. I feel guilt because I can't help.
It's this guilt that's caused me to shut down, to turn away. Because it hurts too much. It hurts too much to hear these stories, to feel these things, when there's this gnawing, aching sense of responsibility, this burden that I can't lift. No matter what I do, there will always be more. More need. Overwhelming, icy, putrid need.
I know that I am not responsible for all the poverty in the world, I know it isn't my fault and I can't meet every single need, no matter how much I may want to. I know that. But still there's this feeling of... Gosh, I don't know. This feeling like I abandoned those kids in Uganda. Because, in a way, I feel like I did. Maybe you, whoever reads this and really knows me and my heart will think different. But it feels to me like abandonment. Why? Because I couldn't take the hurt. It ripped me to shreds inside. So what did I do? I turned away. I ran and hid. I plugged my ears, to be brutally, painfully honest. Whenever one of those "Feed a child for a dollar a day" commercials came on, I changed the channel, muted it, whatever. Because it hurt too badly.
The guilt has paralyzed me. Disoriented me. And caused me to pretty much just focus on myself. I've hated it. I've never felt more useless. And I feel like it's just going to get worse if something doesn't change.
But this feeling. I've called it guilt, but the word "guilty" really doesn't even begin to describe how it is I feel.
But it will hurt more to carry on how I am than actually face this. I know that for a fact. I have to do something again. Go somewhere, change something, encourage, give of myself. Infect hope. That's why I'm here. That's what I need. That's what works for me. It's why God made me.
I don't know if anyone will even read this. If someone does, I just want to say how excruciatingly painful it was to say these things. But I feel like it had to be done. It had to be done or I was going to explode.