Am I Here?

I often wonder if I really exist. I look in the mirror and there I am. At least I think it is me. I hear myself say things and they sound like something I might say... I think. I often cut myself while preparing a meal. Blood appears and I hurt. It feels like me. But am I really here?

The reason I question is because others often tell me I am not the real me. I am the person who has to rush to the electric company to show them the cancelled check to prove I, me, actually paid them. Please do not discontinue service.

Paperwork for me is constantly being lost. My second son was never paid for. The reason? The insurance company had no record of me being covered. I fought them for several years with all the proof I could muster. They had more proof that I do not exist. I finally gave up.

I returned for that dreaded 6 week check-up after my daughter was born. My daughter was with me. They had her file ready and waiting to affirm that she was a perfect little girl. This was at the hospital where she was born.

Imagine my shock when they informed me that there was no record that I had ever been there. My daughter was born there. Where did she come from? I even had surgery two days after she was born. Or did I? They never did find my paperwork.

Then there are the many people who say, "You look just like my cousin's best friend's sister!" Or some equally obscure person. Am I that person?

In a diner one day with my children another person came and said that I looked just like a neighbor's friend. I told her that I was me. But I wonder. Am I?

When we had the junkyard people kept coming in and saying that I looked just like Metacore Mary. Metacore was a business that took used car parts and rebuilt them to better than new. Mary worked there and often made deliveries and picked up supplies. It was similar to the job I was doing. But I did not know her.

One day I was having some propane and oxygen tanks refilled. In walked a woman that looked like a relative. I was staring and when she noticed I apologized.

It was Metacore Mary. I explained that people were constantly telling me that I looked just like her. Once I had gone to pick up an order of work gloves and they gave me the order for Metacore because they thought she was me.

We looked like we might be relatives but we certainly did not look "just alike". Mary started to laugh. She said people were always telling her about this person who looked just like her! She was very nice and said she was happy to meet me.

Then she laughed again and was having a hard time stopping. It was not that funny. Then she said, " You don't look just like me. But you do look just like my younger sister!"

So you see? I am not certain there is a me. Papers do not support my existence. My face is so common that I could be anyone. But perhaps I am not me. Someone needs to tell me. Am I here?