nyehnyehnyeh

Workaholic

Personalities seem to be a cumulative reaction to our lives. Traumatic events lead to shaken, distrusting people just as successful attempts lead to confident people. Psychologist Erikson suggested that people undergo eight crises throughout their lives, each crisis shaping their personality through building confidence and happiness or leaving feelings of disappointment and shame. A more famous psychologist, Sigmund Freud, believed that our personalities are fully developed by the age of five. When I was five, I was pulling off flower petals and chanting with my friends, "He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me," and I suppose that silly, lovestruck quote from childhood suits my personality quite well. Just as the affections of the boy change so rapidly, I change just as easily. With such a fickle temperament and the energy for it, I am clearly choleric through and through.

My most dominant choleric trait is my changeability. Or is it? I change my mind at the drop of a hat over all sorts of scenarios, ranging from the utterly frivolus to the life-altering. On a daily basis, I perform my "kitchen-hop," an act in which I plant one foot in the direction of my fridge, determined to find something delicious, and suddenly swivel away as I develop a sudden urge to find my iPod or clean my room or something just as unrelated. I turn back and forth, lunging towards the white handle, and then away, towards my Option B, my mind spinning just as wildly in an attempt to stick with one choice. At the other end of the spectrum, I was changing my decision on a much bigger issue a mere half year ago. My parents wanted to move our family to China and wanted my input. Some days, I would firmly believe that yes, I certainly wanted to live in the comfort of my own culture and begin a new lifestyle, while on other days, I loved my friends and the unique individuality I could only find here far too much to uproot and leave. Luckily, my parents spared me the pain of deciding, and six months later, I still reside in America. All this mind-changing takes up a great deal of my thoughts and time, but it is not the only volatile part of my nature. My daily schedule, or lack thereof, is proof of that. I cannot bear to be tied to routine, no matter how time-saving and healthy my parents claim routines to be. Some days I rise at three in the morning to finish homework, and a few days later, I find myself climbing into bed at that same ungodly hour. With regards to eating, I find myself scarfing down food voraciously every few hours or so some days, and then eat two, spare meals the following day. Other than my basic needs, I also alter my hairstyle, handwriting, preferences, and all other traits quite whimsically. My only constant is my consistent inconsistency.

When I am not busying with being mercurial, I still find myself being incessantly active, yet another choleric trait. I find there are two parts to my active behavior: being energized and being busy. I've been energetic my entire life, bouncing from room to room, person to person, and activity to activity. Even as a little kid, my mother claims I was never truly happy unless I was off and running, doing and making. Unfortunately for her, that meant I was getting myself into trouble as I tried to be productive, such as the time when I "planted" my neighbor's beautiful tulips by pulling them out and burying the flowers in another portion of her yard. As a teenager, I have retained this trait and applied it in a less troublesome manner. Nowadays, I am section leader of the flute section in marching band and I use this characteristic to encourage and energize my section. Marching is one of many extracurricular activities I have joined, which leads to my increasingly busy schedule. I have found that I adore this busy schedule with nary a moment to rest, and have thus piled upon as many clubs and responsibilities I can fit on my platter. I have marching band, Speech Team, Peer Leadership, Students Embracing Diversity, and Key Club to deal with on top of my already demanding coursework. In the summer, without these activities to busy myself with, I fill up my time with studying, summer classes, and spending time with friends. The only time I rest from this active lifestyle is through sleep. Even then I can not hold still, rolling around and tangling myself in blankets and pillows. It seems like my bile is boiling out from my liver, leaving me restless and active.

No matter how I look at it, I am nothing but choleric through and through. From childhood to present day, through every behavior and trait, with boundless energy and changing habits, I have been nothing but a choleric girl.