5 minute read. Content warning: Mentions of mental illness, personal struggles with identity, and reflection on past emotional challenges..
- What do you think of when you imagine the person that you are? (2)
chatGPT Summary: Kay reflects on their resistance to August’s prompt about self-identity, exploring how personal experiences with mental health and lucid dreaming have shaped their evolving sense of self and the challenges of imagining who they are.
Vancouver, on occupied MST territory – As I began to (try and) tackle August’s prompt, I was confronted with an unexpected resistance within myself. KM’s prompt proposed that we focus on the components that make us who we are—a topic that could be fascinating but felt challenging for me. The prompt initially stirred up some oppressive, ageist thinking. I dismissed it as a topic more suited to someone younger, still discovering themselves. This reaction clashed starkly with my belief that we never stop learning about ourselves if we continue to grow, learn, and try new things.
Why was I resisting this prompt? Was it because it challenged me to look inward in a way that felt too vulnerable, too raw? I think about the internet memes that categorize and define people based on seemingly trivial choices, and I am bothered. I’ve always had a complex relationship with these categorizations, and it felt like this prompt was pushing me into a corner where I had to define (or share) myself in ways I’ve resisted. My knee-jerk reaction was rooted in my discomfort with being labelled, categorized, and put into a box.
But the problem wasn’t the prompt—it was me. This became clear as I reflected more deeply throughout the month. I realized that my resistance was not just about age or identity but discomfort with being seen, known, and categorized by others. It’s a struggle I’ve faced many times, manifesting in various aspects of my life and practice.
I know my resistance and discomfort are worth exploring—not just because they’re part of the prompt but because they’re part of me, and my desire to distance myself is unhealthy. So, as I move forward, I will try to push through, examine my resistance, and see what lies on the other side of it.
Imagining Being
When I was growing up, I used to lucid dream a lot. I was the hero in all my adventures, and I looked like something out of a fantasy novel, my clothing, hair and weapons reflecting what I had recently read and watched. When I went to university and felt anxious, I would dream of myself in the same scenario and complete the final battle in heroic and selfless ways, focusing on specific details in different dreaming sessions. I could recount my most recurring dream – but I find telling dreams (especially listening to them) tedious, so let’s move along.
Content note: mental illness – When I was in my twenties, I had a break. I broke such that the pieces couldn’t be glued back together. I wouldn’t wish it on someone (or even my younger self), but this break allowed me to get off the highway I had been cruising, moving along a career I hated in a town I desperately wanted to leave and reexamine the person that people kept telling me I was. It was important to learn and mend, and while my new stitches hold me together pretty well, the seams are visible and often need repair. To continue with that metaphor, I will stitch new swatches and bobbles to myself, requiring old patches to be removed or covered or pins to be disregarded. My waking self is constantly being molded and changed, but what I have lost entirely is my ability to lucid dream myself as the hero protagonist.
I try it sometimes—I can still lucid dream in most cases—but I am no longer a hero in a fantasy world. I can watch mental videos of previous dreams, but the character in the hero role is no longer me, and my daydream is more an entertaining retro-film distraction than a fulfilling and empowering choose-your-own-adventure. I’m sure some would call this growing up.
I found myself resisting this question again because I could not imagine myself. I know who I am in most moments and am harshly self-aware and sharply critical. It’s hard to create fluffy dreamscapes when you’re wielding a scalpel. However, I can imagine who I want to be. I find that as fulfilling as I remember feeling when I dreamed of myself as the protagonist in my adventures. I like imagining a future where I will accomplish things or that others will benefit from my labour. When I imagine the future me(s), there is still space to change and be surprised, but in every case, I am still working to care, learn and be creative.
Technology note:
I continue to test the use of AI within my writing and artistic practice. I used chatGPT to create a summary for this blog as well as provide the reading estimate and content warnings, and Grammarly to assist me in spelling and grammar.