Often when I'm depressed, I don't feel satisfied with who I am. I feel like I'll (and by I, I don't mean my character, but my SOUL. As in, my CONSCIOUSNESS. I'm perfectly organized in that other way, thank you very much.) always be in many pieces and they'll never find each other, so the pieces will have to look elsewhere for friends. So they look outside of my head (since there's no stimulation inside any more) and start collecting things that I might use in a better life once I get one: clothes, accessories, makeup, other stuff. And I become very particular about it... counting the stuff sometimes, organizing and reorganizing it, making sure nothing was stolen and havign a panic/depressive episode when I can't find something in my stuff or in my mother's, so I decide it must have been stolen, and then there's anger too, and I have a mini-meltdown, and think and say, "OMG, I've been robbed!" And it's also the feeling that someone GOT ME GOOD that gets me. That they were able to steal from me. That they got one over on me. That they got the best and the better of me. It drives me a bit nuts when I have nothing else to cheer me up, and am really clinically depressed. My posessions have me.