Who am I anyway? Am I my resume?

To quote A Chorus Line: "Who am I anyway? Am I my resume? That is a picture of a person I don't know... What do they want from me? Who should I try to be? So many faces all around and here we go... I need this job...oh god...I need this show."
Auditions are the day after tomorrow. I am SO NERVOUS. This is a TOURING show and I want this aprt SO BADLY. I would give up anything for this. There is more at stake here than with any other show. It's not just a normal show. I am SO scared I could actually shit my pants.
I have finals coming up and I am just so stressed. Everything is flying around me at teh speed of light and I feel like curling into a ball and sleeping for ages. I want to stay on track. I want to I want to I want to.
Today I read my "This I Believe" speech in English. We all had to write about our coure belief and they were very emotional. Some people wrote "I believe the past is what makes you who you are", anotehr wrote "I believe in summer rain,", another wrote "I believe in the little things."
I wrote, "I believe life is beautiful."
it was very intense and revealing, but my class was wonderful. they supported me so much and I cried from happiness after I read it. I truly believe Life is beautiful, I have never believed it mroe than I do now.
Here is my essay to share with you guys if you're itnerested in reading it. Otherwise skim down and ignore it, I know it's long, haha! Sorry this update is so short but I'm SO busy! I love you guys! <3
This I Believe: Life is Beautiful

What are we, here? We are everything and nothing at once. Try as I might, I cannot philosophize my way to a place of reasoning where all the mysteries of the world are explained. Some things I will never know, and some things will never be fair. I have gone through a lifetime of scales, diet foods, blood tests, measuring tapes, and hospital beds to find myself in a place where there are no answers, and yet everything is unspeakably and inexplicably right. And here, in this place, I believe life is beautiful.
            Freshmen, I have been told, know next to nothing. I have to agree. I also have to say that I still know next to nothing, and I probably always will. I started out ninth grade on a diet. I ended my sophomore year in the emergency room with kidney failure. In between, I spent the most miserable two years of my life with a horrific eating disorder.
            The daily details are grainy and unfocused in my mind, originating from a time where I literally starved my brain. I cannot remember the day to day minutiae, but I can remember the feeling, the burning, the desperate thought clawing at the back of my mind: There has got to be more to life. A gaping hole sat squarely in the face of my existence, and I struggled, frantically, to try to fill it with a number on a scale. 120. I don’t feel good enough. 115. Better, but I’m still not there. 110. I am miserable. I am stuck. What happens now? 105. 100. 95. This isn’t life. This is death.
            I believed, with everything I had, that I could find the answers with every pound lost. For a while, I was fooled into thinking that there was a neat solution for the crushing loneliness, the complete confusion, the utter hopelessness of my life. I wanted so badly to find some distraction, some diversion, some other outlet where I could throw every bit of fear and sadness and heartache and pretend it didn’t exist. There was some misguided belief in my mind that my life was somehow terribly wrong because it wasn’t perfect.
            But as I stumbled around blindly trying to make sense of what I considered to be utter chaos, it struck me out of nowhere that, maybe, this was enough. Maybe it’s okay to feel sadness so deep it feels like you’re dying, as long as you don’t let it take away from happiness so pure it makes your heart soar. Maybe it’s okay to be completely petrified of what comes next, just as long you still take the next step. And maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to be less than perfect, just as long as you are you. These things I detested, this sadness and fear and imperfection, are what make life so breathtakingly brilliant. It is the gut wrenchingly painful parts that make the awe inspiringly exhilarating moments that much more profound.
            This much I know: you cannot feel love unless you know pain. You will never know the beauty of laughter until you have felt the anguish of tears. And above all, life really is lovely. No amount of bleakness, despondency, or angst can get in the way of that. It does not matter, at the end of that day, that I have fallen apart and been stitched back together more times than I can count. It doesn’t matter that I have lost my way and gone too far off the path to ever get back on it. And it doesn’t matter that I am not the golden girl I always thought I needed to be. Because after all this, I can still sit at my piano and feel contentment so pure it makes the world melt away. I can still walk outside into the sunshine and feel a rush of joy. And I can still surround myself with family and friends and feel love so real it takes my breath away. And through it all, through the ups and the downs and through every moment, both bitter and sweet, this I believe: Life is beautiful.