When you make the mistake of learning about Pscyhology, you learn things about yourself that I think sometimes it's best not to know. Nothing terrifyingly bad, Psychology has't been a science long enough for that to be a concern, but still and all there are things that Man simply shouldn't know.
One of those anathema things is "Locus of Control." That's a clever way to describe how we let outside things affect our mental conditions. And originally enough, the locuses are divided into Internal and External. Fancy that.
Internal Locus of Control folks do just what it sounds like they do - their mental lives, their moods and emotional states are self-directed, and they tend to be more level on a day to day basis than Externals.
And since I gave such a brief nod to Internal folks, it stands to reason that I'm considered an External Locus of Control person. If you guessed this already, pat yourself on the back and give yourself a cigar.
I see myself, among other images, as one of those old sailing ships, all sails and masts designed to catch the wind and be propelled forward. And like anything that is controlled by outside forces, one must adjust the sails to make the best of the wind. Unfortunately, nobody has invented any sort of reliable weather control, unless you count the myriads of pharmaceutical answers.
On some levels I want to change this travelling with the winds, and on other levels I have become so accustomed to it that I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I suddenly went to a pair of inboard V-8s. My moods have always been what used to be called 'an artist's temperment' and now are called by some OCD and ADD and Bipolar Disorder and any other of a dozen convenient descriptors that aren't really describing much of anything.
So here I sit, all over the map, desperately trying to avoid that big clear bit that says "Here There Be Dragons."