On the intermixture of embarrassment and anger I feel in looking back on my having bought into liberalism for so long

There is such a strange mixture of embarrassment and anger for me.

Like I definitely did eagerly buy into such a comforting view of the world: since violence breeds violence, anyone who fought oppression violently was a brute and a fool, and pursuing my own success “creating beauty” was the best I could do for the world. That is embarrassing because it is a very juvenile, self-serving view of the world, and I bought into it hard.

But I am also angry at the establishment, because

(a) the liberal worldview was the only one that it offered me, so if I was going to doubt it, I would have had to doubt it without any salient evidence to contradict it, which is not impossible but it was very unlikely–I did not simply make a fool out of myself, I was helped to it because I was deeply, thoroughly, ingeniously lied to;

(b) that way of viewing the world is fundamentally degrading to whoever accepts it. If I think humanity is unable to overcome the bitter situation prevailing on the planet due to some inner psychological trait of human beings, then I inevitably think that I, too, am flawed and gross. It is spiritually rot-inducing to accept this worldview, even for those whom it provides superficial comforts.