I have lost confidence in myself.

I'm not much like myself any more.

I suffer
from unrequited self love.
I love myself, but I don’t
Love myself
back.

What did I lack then, anyway?

I had failed to make a gift of myself to God.

I'm afraid I can't explain myself, sir. Because I am not myself, you see?

To lose yourself: a voluptuous surrender, lost in your arms, lost to the world, utterly immersed in what is present so that its surroundings fade away. In Benjamin’s terms, to be lost is to be fully present, and to be fully present is to be capable of being in uncertainty and mystery.

Tired of myself longing for what I have not

Struggling to be brief I become obscure.

I felt that I was leaving part of myself behind, and that wherever I went afterwards I should feel the lack of it, and search for it hopelessly, as ghosts are said to do, frequenting the spots where they buried material treasures without which they cannot pay their way to the nether world.

The fear of finding oneself alone – that is what they suffer from – and so they don’t find themselves at all.

I felt loss at every hand. The
loss of self-esteem is a celebrated symptom, and my own sense of self
had all but disappeared, along with any self-reliance. This loss can
quickly degenerate into dependence, and from dependence into infantile
dread. One dreads the loss of all things, all people close and dear.
There is an acute fear of abandonment.

I haven’t been feeling like myself lately. No, I’ve been feeling like my clone.

No matter where i go, i still end up me. What's missing never changes. The scenery may change, but i'm still the same incomplete person. The same missing elements torture me with a hunger that i can never satisfy. I think that lack itself is as close as i'll come to defining myself.