I've discovered that I like "the act of" doing something. I like the act of writing when I do my Morning Pages each day. It doesn't matter that most days there's nothing but drivel in the MPs: the physical act of writing with pen and paper is enough to satisfy me.
I walk 7 miles most days now. When I started (NOT at 7 miles! just 2), it was to lose weight. Now I walk because I enjoy the act of walking. I like feeling my muscles move. I like being outside with no distractions (I'm not an outdoorsy person, but I enjoy the walks each day) (make that "most days").
I enjoy the act of making quilts. (OK not ALL the steps involved - but most of them.) It doesn't matter to me that they have no intended purpose. It's the act itself that is vital to me.
I've learned that "the act of..." is sometimes all that matters. I've stopped feeling weird that some act I do has no purpose other than the act itself.
If you're "beating yourself up" like I used to .... STOP!