So what defines who we are? Are our actions what define us, our thoughts, our words? My depression may not define who I am, such as “I am not depression, depression is not me.” But, if you take the depression away, I will change. If it weren’t for my dreams, or nightmares I suppose, then I wouldn’t be who I am. If certain things had never happened, I would be different. Not drastically different, but different nonetheless. If I hadn’t grown up having dreams of death and fear, would I be less fearful, or are the dreams a product of the fear? Do they feed each other? Would my decisions in life have been completely different without those warped and twisted adventures through dreamland? I know that depending on who I’m with, I am perceived differently. Does that have anything to do with who I am? My dad claims that my psychotic obsessive intrusive thoughts are not me, but they are a product of my mind, of my imagination… I know that I am a different person to my children than how my mother, father, brother or husband see me. I know that who I view me as is not shown to anyone else.

So who am I? What defines me? 

I am me. I have done more than many people even think of doing in their entire lives. I have been both rich and poor, homeless even. I have sung internationally with a choir, I have written songs, both lyrics and music, I have traveled abroad. I know movie stars, I know the nitty-gritty of life. I have raised animals for wool, meat, eggs, milk and had my own garden (like I could the byproduct, lol). I am self sufficient, as in I know how to survive in the wild. I can build shelter, build traps, hunt for food, build a bow, build arrows, whittle arrowheads. I know how to make rope, thread, cloth, chainmaille. I can harvest wool, spin it, knit it, weave it, crochet it. I can run Unix based systems such as Linux, as well as Dos, Mac, Windows. There is no program I have not tried and mastered that I wanted to. I can play with 3D modeling like it’s play-doh, I can “see” it as if it’s in front of me. I have also sculpted with clay. I can paint, draw, make jewelry. I have sailed to distant islands, motored around, skii and knee-board, wakeboard, surfboard. I’ve gone fishing with both high quality gear and makeshift stick and string and caught things with both. I have made fire with flint and steel, and with two sticks rubbed together. I am a cook, have a title of honorary Mexican for my Mexican cooking. I cook from scratch, making sauce and dough. I have almost mastered Italian and French pastries. I have studied history, foreign languages, cultures and mythologies, collected foreign antique coins, collect antique books, swords and other weapons, jewelry. I have studied heraldry and architecture and archeology. I have had heartbreak, found love, lost loved ones, have children, have depression, OCD, anxiety, psychotic intrusive obsessive thoughts, crazy nightmares, fibromyalgia, allergies, asthma, possibly Aspergers, high IQ…

I could go on for a while, I’m sure, but what I’m getting at is, Who am I? What defines me? With everything I have ever done, that has shaped my life, shaped my being… It’s not an easy answer, if it can even be answered.


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