Who am I?

I passed through empty consciousness,  
then through the cocoon of my ego, which gave me the illusion of self-sufficiency,  
although every moment of my life was filled with fear of my true “self” — fear of how people saw me. Would they stay with me? Was I behaving attractively enough? These thoughts devoured me.

Then came awareness, and after that — darkness that enveloped my entire life.  
I no longer belonged to them, but I also no longer belonged to myself.  
I no longer control my body or my mind, but was “I” even there at all? Who am I?

All my life I was a personality assembled from many others, but it was never truly me.  
What can I call my own? My name? My biological sex? My position in society? My relationships with other people?  
All of this is external — something that never depended on me.

Then what does depend on me? Do I even have a mind or will?  
Am I writing these words right now, or is it another consciousness occupying my mind, forcing me to believe that I exist?  
Is what I see real? Or is it only a projection? A dream of a cosmic being? And am I merely a flash of its thought power?

What am I, truly?  
I observe and ask questions — does that mean I possess the capacity to witness?