I'm fairly indifferent about myself, except when my depression kicks in and makes me hate myself (which, unfortunately, is a lot of the time). I don't really have anything to like myself for, and it's really more my circumstances I hate than myself (though my depression tries to blame me for that).
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Yet in my new wildness and freedom I almost welcome the bitterness of alienage. For although nepenthe has calmed me, I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.
-H. P. Lovecraft, "The Outsider"