Frogs and Prinzes

As a kid, I used to read the TA for Tots books over and over. TA stands for transactional analysis but I don't know much about what that is; my hazy memories of these books consist of lots of "I'm okay, you're okay" type affirmations and stories about warm fuzzies and cold pricklies. There was lots of stuff about your inner child and parent too, I think, but the bits I liked best were the stories of frogs and prinzes. Everyone is apparently a prinz (their 70s non-gender-specific version of prince/princess), but sometimes a prinz could turn into a frog if they did something wrong (although I'm sure they didn't use such a judgemental word as wrong). My favourite character was a turtle, whose name I've forgotten, who would do something wrong or say something mean and then go off and be all grumpy and miserable (I think he rode his bike when he shouldn't have and cracked his shell). I think the sulking and feeling like he couldn't do anything right (accompanied by hovering cold pricklies) was key to turning into a frog. Then little flying warm fuzzies would come and chase the cold pricklies away. I think all he had to do to turn back into a prinz-turtle was realise that he was still okay, even if he made a mistake. He might have had to apologise, too, or that might just be something prinzes do, without being a requirement.
I read these books so often because while I was reading, I could believe that maybe I was okay too. Unfortunately, the feeling never lasted very long before I'd have to read the books again. I was reading these books when I was 6 or 7 and I already felt like I wasn't okay.
I was thinking about this today because after trying to ignore other people's concerned comments on my last post about me being hard on myself, Andrea's comment got me thinking about times when I have tried to stop the constant negative self-talk (and even been somewhat successful) and why I'm so reluctant to attempt it now.
Reading the TA books was my first attempt, I guess, although I never did any of the affirmations in front of the mirror that they suggested. I think I spent most of my school years assuming that things would magically get better whenever I got to the next new thing.
My first real attempt was when I first started hanging out in the online support world about 5 years ago. It was something completely new to hear from people who had similar fears and insecurities and even more so, to be able to talk about such things myself and have people understand. The group at that time was very supportive and there were people there who had improved enormously and were happy to offer advice and encouragement. A couple of people emailed me and actually seemed interested in what I had to say! Another guy specifically invited me to join his separate group. All this made me feel so much more hopeful about the possibility that I might be okay, after all, and maybe I didn't need to be so afraid. I read some cognitive-behavioural books and started telling the abusive inner voice to shut up. I stopped hiding out in the library instead of sitting with people I knew. I started accepting invitations and joined the committee for my Enriching Activity club. I remember being almost happy with myself for a while there.
I'm not quite sure when I started slipping backwards. It may have been when the misogynists took over the group, or when the guy who invited me to join his group went insane and I got caught in the middle. My new-found feelings of acceptance were too shaky to stand up to anyone (although I tried and it backfired), and were also closely dependent on not tarnishing my nice, sweet persona with any "bitchiness" (ie assertiveness in any less misogynistic environment). I withdrew from the group, but I still talked to certain people, which led to the complete disaster that is the story I was going to tell a few weeks ago, but got conveniently distracted from.
After feeling pretty well convinced that I was evil, I haven't been able to convince myself to try any of the things that worked previously again. I got as far as buying a cognitive-behavioural therapy book and I've read it a few times, but I never get past the identifying irrational beliefs stage to the parts where you start to get rid of them.
The problem is, I know the exercises work and I could probably convince myself to have some self-esteem, but I don't really feel like I should be thinking any better of myself.
Towards the end of my first academic year here, I started going to the gym and eating better. I lost some of the weight I'd put on from filling up on dessert when the dining hall food was too awful, I had more energy and I felt better and more productive in general. I lasted 4 months going to the gym every day, but for the last month (maybe two) it was a struggle against the self-destructive urges that eventually won. I ate too much (I don't want to admit to bingeing; I don't need an eating disorder on top of everything else...) and hid in my room. At least I finally recognised that maybe I might actually be depressed.
Since then I haven't been able to fully believe in or commit to any attempt to improve anything. I started going to therapy, but I don't talk. I write plans and lists of things to do that I immediately ignore. I keep going through the same cycle of feeling completely miserable, deciding to do something about it and getting as far as cooking one meal, or clearing my floor before giving up. And I keep moaning here about it all, without following any of the advice or insight you're kind and generous enough to offer.
If I really feel that I don't deserve to feel any better about myself or happier in general, I should just shut up about it and quietly live out my martyred little life as a frog, but I guess I still have some small hope that maybe I might be able to one day turn into a prinz. Unfortunately, it's just enough to cause the most annoyance, without being very helpful.