Uncertainty, darkness, and the faint desire to turn on Netflix and watch some cheesy television show as a distraction wash over me at the same time. I have awoken halfway through the night, again.

I lay awake at 2:43 am. I’m covered in 3 blankets, hair a mess, bags under my eyes. It’s dark out, the only light is that which filters through the overcast sky. It’s cold. The kind of cold that sends a shiver through your bones, the kind of cold that a blanket can’t fix. I question everything about myself, as I do every night after waking up.

I stumble across a mountain of a question; who exactly is Shelby Howell?

I’m not exactly sure, I think to myself as I begin to delve into my own mind. Is Shelby Howell the quiet, awkward girl, afraid to make eye contact with others in the overcrowded halls? The one who, when asked, would much rather be alone than have to talk to those she’s uncomfortable with. The Shelby Howell who spends her summers alone in her room, seldom invited to do anything with anyone; yet is too emotionally numb to care.

Or, on the flip side, is Shelby Howell the one who takes charge in situations? The Shelby Howell who is a section leader in the marching band, who is the co captain of the robotics team, the one who is always ready to stand up and prove a point. The Shelby Howell who spends so much time at that stupid robotics center she almost failed so many of her classes last year. The one who will always carry that screaming self-doubt whenever she helps someone wire, or CAD, or play through a rough passage because what if she’s telling them the wrong thing?

Well, what about the Shelby Howell who teaches? The one who spends 6:00-8:00 pm 3 days a week, teaching noisy 4th and 5th grade boys what Gracious Professionalism is in a busy, beige elementary school gym full of all ages of school children and their silly questions. She has a passion to pass down; the passion for engineering and building new solutions, a passion that she can never seem to fulfill well enough. Is she the true Shelby Howell?

And how about the Shelby Howell who is a student? The one with a yearning desire to be better than everyone else; an unattainable goal? The one who sits in a stuffy classroom, trying not to cry during a test because she knows she should have studied harder even though she was up until two the night before. The Shelby Howell who spends hours a day at her fake wood desk in bright, almost sharp lighting with thick books and what has to be reams of paper spread out, the one who lays her head down in defeat because she just does not get it.

What about the Shelby Howell who never seems to come out? The one who internally screams whenever she is touched, the one who hates to get close to people after what just one person did. The weak one, the overly critical one, the angry one, and the numb one all rolled into one monster of a person.

Or is Shelby Howell the one that almost everyone who I call friend sees? The one who is happy, just tired and stressed. The one who is imprisoned in the thing she loves most, the gym full of Legos and metal and tables and deep red and bright yellow plastic school chairs, yet never shows her upset with it when she’s there. The one who cracks bad jokes to others, trying to impress them.

I guess I don’t know. It is now 3:17 am, and I close my eyes knowing that whatever sleep I get tonight will have to do. A final thought settles in my mind, and I am able to find a strange sense of solace. Yeah, I change my personality a lot through the day. Finding a perfect balance is hard, but I suppose I’m getting there. That’s the best I can do for now.