Growing up with mental illness plaguing you is detrimental to your growth and wellbeing. My mental illness was able to convince me, for a very long time, that I was nothing more than someone who had depression, or anxiety, or post-traumatic stress disorder. I would always identify myself by what was wrong with me rather than the aspects that make-up who I actually am. I wrote this poem in the middle of a panic attack to try to calm myself down, to try to rationalize with myself that I am more than what everybody, including myself, has told me. I refuse to let people define me any longer.