This is who I am, but who am I?

So as you all will see by reviewing this blog, I didn't make it all the way through Holidailies last year. I probably won't make it all the way through this year.

As to who I am -- I suppose that depends on who you ask, or when you ask me. Right now, I'm an employee of a research institute with a boss who is...challenging to say the least. I'm fat. I'm -- just as I was last year at this time -- undergoing a series of tests to determine if I've got tumors going throughout my endocrine system, or if there's something else that's causing one of my natural-born steroids to be overproduced (and, therefore, I'm a patient). I'm a daughter, I'm a cousin, I'm a niece. I'm a best friend, a more general friend, an acquaintance, some lunatic on the internet, a total stranger.

I'm an erstwhile student who would love to be formally studying again. I'm an active student learning things every day. I'm wholly atheistic at the same time I'm completely spiritual and fundamentally agnostic.

I'm mentally ill, but this statement and the previous statement have nothing to do with each other. I've got another couple of so-called "invisible" illnesses, but I haven't had them long enough to add them to my self-definition. Also, their fundamental nature may prove to be part of a different health problem, so while I say I have them, they aren't yet a permanent part of my life.

That said, I am not my illness.

I'm a terrible gardener, a passable knitter, a writer, a poet, a severely out-of-practice pianist, the possessor of an inquisitive mind and could be the poster-child for the other face of depression.

I identify as asexual, and I have no pets, though I have previously been owned by rats. There is a neighborhood cat who desperately wants me to be hers, but I don't want a cat.

I'm a terrible housekeeper, an excellent baker, a semi-competent cook.

So that's who I am. Who are you?