How do you perceive the world?

I just wrote this. Not sure what I’m trying to say with it ..

Sometimes I feel like everyone sees things so differently to me.

I just saw a post on Instagram about fat phobia and my only thought was, but why would someone think or feel that way? Like obviously everyone likes everyone and doesn’t judge and is accepting of everyone. 

Sometimes I think I live in a world of rainbows and unicorns. I see the world that way. And no one else seems to. And it’s weird in a way. And jarring.

And of course I see the world…. I’m destroying myself at the moment (pretty literally). My siblings make sure to educate me constantly. My friends have all been through, are going through, so much.

Yet I still think of the world and people as all good and awesome and everyone else seems to think differently. It’s just, I don’t even have the words to put it down what it feels like. Like I perceive something and it seems like almost everyone perceives it differently. And no, I don’t want to change.

Do I password protect my last posts?

I’m thinking about this. About password protecting my last posts. Because they’re on the darker side and that’s not what my blog is meant to be about. I don’t care for my sake if they’re up. I posted them, and it helped me to write, and you people here have been invaluable. Thank you for being here, and for believing in me. Thank you for your messages C and J. I’m just not sure if I should keep the posts up. If it’s helpful to anyone or not at all. I’d love thoughts…

This week has been a good one. It’s been chaotic and good. And busy. Still messing up and living with destruction, but it’s not the only thing at all. And I’m proud of how I handled my sister – I may still write about it if it’ll help me to. I overreacted in my mind, but in reality I really handled it well. And been trying to get back to journaling which really helps me. A friend bought me a diamond art painting which I did, so ordered another, and have the awesomest I believe in you box to keep the diamonds in (I hope you’re reading this 💕).

Happy weekend….

Been making some pictures for instagram. Haven’t posted most, but here are a couple.

Love, light and glitter

You are one choice away from the life of your dreams.
You are perfect just the way you are.
Your weight does not define you. Your body size does not define you. You are beautiful just because you exist. You are perfect just the way you are.
Will you tell someone they look good because of their weight or because of their smile? Will you tell them they have a nice dress/bag or that they look so skinny?
When I began losing weight I received a lot of backhanded compliments. Wow, you look so good, you lost so much weight. Are you telling me that I didn’t look good until now?
Just because I chose something once (or constantly), it doesn’t mean I have to make the same choice again.
Your feelings do not define you.
Your body size does not define you.

Today has been today.

Today has been. Today. Today has been today. How profound is that?

This morning I was messaging TC (a friend) which was good. T always makes me smile. Even just thinking of her. And she shared something cool with me. This morning as in my kind of ‘morning’. This afternoon went out. Was just really calm and okay. Didn’t take much cocodamol this afternoon.

Only took when I came home a couple hours ago. And then felt really icky. It’s like a bone weariness and exhaustion and general ickiness that comes from it. It was interesting to really see the effects.


RR said to set my sites on a goal. Any goal.

There is a dream I have. I wrote a letter I wish I could have told you this before you killed yourself. My dream is to have a selection of letters. To have a number of letters from others.

Would you write a letter? Would you write something like that? If you are happy to, please do, and post it, link it, share it etc. If there is enough we can do something with it…. one warning point though is that I want them suitable for everyone. So nothing religious there.


Today’s been good.

I want to use more and I don’t want to.

I don’t see another choice. But, it’s the first time in the past couple weeks that I’m thinking maybe I don’t want to always keep using cocodamol. That I don’t like how it makes me feel – physically, the general under the weatherness. That maybe I see a life beyond it.

So, that’s today. As I said, today has been today.

Sunday smiles – A letter from Kate. You are awesome!

Kate’s letter is gorgeous and made me want to cry. Well worth reading…

a love letter to YOU!

From Kate

Dear Hearts,

This is an open letter just to let you know how much you are loved, how precious each and every one of you are. The mere fact that you are alive brings sunshine into our world daily!

I know that we all have a good heart, and sure some may have more layers to peel off than most. But each of us are doing the best that we can … especially all the kind supportive friends I’ve made world wide here at WP.

We are going through some particularly difficult and challenging times lately. For some restrictions are easing while others seem caught in a downward vortex.

Although we may all be in this together remember that some do have more resources to cushion the blow than others. Such as stable housing, funds to buy sufficient supplies and pay for medical assistance as needed. These factors alone are a huge blessing as most of our world are currently struggling with these very basics.

Incomes are no longer assured, some countries provide safety nets yet the majority don’t. So what I’m suggesting is that we all be grateful for what we do have and try to share with those who don’t have.

While fear and anger reign we all pay the toll … so kindness and acceptance go a very long way to cheering both our self and each other up in this time of turmoil. No point in sugar coating it but we each have immense inner strength, resilience, that we can draw on. Use it to it’s full potential because it will keep you balanced.

If you find yourself getting snappy, saying nasty things or overwhelmed by anxiety know that none of this is normal. That every single one of us have had our life turned upside down and trampled on. Each of us are fragile in various ways. Missing family and friends, deprived of touch and company, not able to socialise and keep ourselves busy with our usual distractions.

Might be time to find other healthier distractions, such as hobbies, helping, networking … coz sulking, avoidance and fear can become insurmountable. So rather than chew another out, extend a warm smile leave a book, a rock, a teddy bear in your window or on a seat … share the love or whatever brings you joy!

As your heart opens it heals those around you. Use humour, nature, write, create … find your healing outlet and as your mood lifts it ripples out to others and we all feel lighter and brighter.

Now enough from me, know that you are loved, that I am thinking of you, that I hold you in my heart and my prayers, that I wish you nothing but the best … know that you ROCK! And if this has helped even in a small way then please pass it on to whomever it may help so that we can support and heal each other.

How I dread chain letters but if this one can help please make it one … a chain of tender sincere love to warm and nurture you as you deal with all that comes your way today and in the following months. You may feel alone but know that you are not …

much love aunty Kate

PS you are my rainbow, my sunshine, you are divine … remember that!

Is suicide the solution?

Suicide. It’s a word that scares many and brings hope to others. I started my blog elizareasonstolive (which for now is down) when I wanted to focus on the reasons to live, rather than reasons to die. I would post reasons to live, at the same time as doing things to end my life. I lived on the edge. Which is what I wanted to do. I wanted suicide, and I wanted to believe in hope.

Hope is the little voice you hear whisper maybe when it seems the entire world is shouting no. (Google image)

Slowly, my life changed. I stopped using, stopped self harming, started eating, and started living in the world. (They’re all still things I can struggle with). I learned what it means to be present. I learnt, am learning, boundaries. And I learnt a lot about myself. I always thought it was about the end destination. About getting somewhere. Instead, I learnt that it was about the journey.

The journey is the destination.

I learnt that the journey is the destination. I started my current blog when I wanted a space to ramble and write things that weren’t just reasons to live or that offered hope. Writing gave me a lot. Writing is the best therapy I could ever have given to myself. When I wrote letters to myself I accessed a part of myself that I never knew existed. I never knew I could talk to myself nicely. I never knew that there was any part of me that believed I was worth it.

You are worth it (google image)

Today, today I can’t say my life is perfect, but today I’m happy to embrace the imperfection. There is so much I want from my life. I’d love to know who I am and what I want from my life. I’m looking forward to learning it. Life is a learning game.

More than I’m grateful to be alive I’m grateful that I’m grateful to be alive.

For the most part, I’m grateful that I have this chance. There are times I can get stuck in my head, and the biggest thing I’m focusing on at the moment is to stop overthinking. To live. To be. I’m trying to live in this world and not leave this world to live instead in my head.

Nothing and no one is perfect. No one has it easy. Not everyone feels guilty for living. Not everyone knows that by living they’re hurting others. I’ve learned, am learning, to let go of others. To be myself, for myself. I’m learning who I am. And, life is a learning game.

My blog is a positive space. I want it to stay that way. It’s a space where I share some awesome pictures – I love taking photographs even though I don’t publish most.

It’s a space that I want to use to spread love, light, and glitter. I can’t say I use it well, but really it’s just my space. A space I’m grateful for and where I’ve met some awesome people.

Remember, you are worth it. When you reach rock bottom, there is a way up. Don’t believe anyone who tells you it’s easy. Or that it’s your fault. Or that you’re crazy. There is not always another choice. Someone once told me that self harming was my way of looking after myself. And she was right. I was taking care of myself, coping, the best way I knew how. Also, don’t believe anyone who tells you there’s no hope. For there is always hope. I used to feel I was trapped. That no matter how much I tried I was and would always be stuck. I wasn’t depressed. There just wasn’t a way out. And suicide was the best answer. I’m not actually sure how come what I did to myself never harmed me. But I’m not going to complain. I can’t say I’m grateful that I was born. I can say that once I’m here I’m going to make the most of it and try to use every moment. I know life is just temporary. And that you are worth it and way stronger than you believe.

Love, light, and glitter

Suicideforum.com/community is an awesome peer support that I’m grateful for.

Metanoia – suicide – read this first

A reason

How do you fill a cup with a crack in it?

Can you fill a cup with a crack in it?

I wonder if I’ll fully write this post. Maybe if I keep it short. I replied to this in a comment to Keith, and said it deserves a post of its own. I’m in the middle of writing numerous posts. If I don’t finish it, it just doesn’t happen. I know how to go with the flow. I don’t know how to get back to writing something I started. Well, we’ll see if this is something I’ll publish or not. Bring that I haven’t written anything yet!!!!


It’s always easiest to explain what I mean when I bring it to my life.

EV is an older email friend of mine. Someone put us in touch for that purpose. She feels old which I find funny. I guess I’ve grown up in an older family so don’t see 70 as old. Though we’ve been in touch since she was early 60s. Rambling off tangent as usual. Anyways, I used to ask her for reassurance that she was there. A lot. Until it got to the point that it wasn’t healthy. (We worked through it, got past it). It taught me a lot that relationship.

It taught me that she could never tell me enough that she was there. However much she would tell me I wouldn’t, couldn’t, believe it or hear it.

AH – my ex therapist – once told me that I wasn’t believing that he could possibly care about me.

Safety. Trust. Believing people can care. Believing you’re worth it. Believing you are lovable.

I used to think it can come from others. I used to think people can pour it into the cup. Until I learned that if you pour into a cup that has no bottom nothing can stay in. It’s bottomless. Nothing is ever, can ever, be enough.

There has to be a cup there. When there is a cup there, people can pour into it.

So is it the internal or the external?

Well really, it’s a mixture of both. The external can never be absorbed unless there is the internal. However, that’s not to say that nobody external can help you build the internal. Also, take a crack with gaps. The water stays in the cup. It may drop out and need refilling more often, but the water poured into it stays. And, people can definitely help you build the cup.

I stopped asking for reassurance in relationships. Any kinda relationship I mean. Because I realised that I didn’t hear what was said. I couldn’t hear it and the words made no difference. (That didn’t stop me from listening almost daily to AH’s voice message telling me I wouldn’t push him away).

And I feel like this isn’t worth posting for it doesn’t really say anything…

For yes, I think we all know that there has to be a cup to pour things into if we want it to stay. It has to be internally absorbed, known, for the external to make a difference. And I also think we all know that people can help you build that cup. That the external sources can help you build that internal resource.

Random thoughts

I don’t know if I should write this or not. But it’s probably better to than thinking about it.

Just a lot of thoughts coming together to create a picture.

Yesterday I was telling my sister that my parents should have known I was physically sensitive. I didn’t know this until a couple weeks ago when my mother was telling someone that when I was a baby she took me to the hospital because of a rash. Which turned out to be from a cream (designed for babies). I never knew until now that she’d always had factual proof that I was sensitive.

Now I was thinking about places. How when there is a lack of air concentration I get dizzy. The problem I have is that I don’t notice the gradual onset. I don’t notice the dizziness until it’s extreme – until I’m shaky, light headed and sweaty. I’ve learned from experience that it has to do with the air concentration. I know some places that bring it on. Some shops I know must have different pairs because I get dizzy there and not in other indoor closed places.

I don’t notice anything physically until it’s extreme. The other examples I wouldn’t really write here. It’s also partly why I don’t really know what goes on in my body emotionally. I don’t experience emotions as it is, but you’d think I’d see it in my body. I’m slowly learning to, but the thing is that I don’t recognise anything.

When I saw my GP about a year ago maybe. He took my blood pressure/pulse and then he asked me if I was dizzy at all. Uh, no. I didn’t recognise any dizziness. Because I wasn’t blacking at all. My vision wasn’t blurring. I wasn’t shaky or lightheaded. There was no really visible physical clue, and if it’s not really visible, how would I know it? I’ve learned to ignore anything physical. I had to.

When I was younger my father would flick my cheek. It was his way of demonstrating love. I asked him repeatedly – almost every single time I think – not to. Because it hurt. He just did it. He was trying to show his love. But he wasn’t doing that. Reminds me actually how he always said my kisses were really light and gentle. To me they weren’t. With hindsight I can see that what to me was giving a real kiss would be really gentle to another person.

One of my sisters told me one of the reasons she found it really tough with me was because of my physical sensitivity. When she’d bump into me I’d get really upset at her hurting me. When she didn’t do anything.

Everyone always told me I was just being sensitive. That what I was saying wasn’t true. I learned to believe them. In some ways I still believe them. Although now I know logically I’m not just being sensitive.

The last time my sister – a different one – bumped into me and was surprised at how strongly I reacted, I later showed her the bruise she’d left. She hadn’t done anything wrong. I wasn’t at all upset with her. I just wanted her to see that I wasn’t overreacting. When I carry heavy bags i get Mark’s, which I’ve learned are the blood capillaries broken from carrying things too heavy. It might not be too heavy for most people. For me it is.

For some reason my friends just accept and know it. It’s a non issue with them. If we go shopping my friends will most likely take the bags even if I protest. They’ll open the bottles. It’s just a non issue. Whereas with my family it is an issue. They’ll be upset if I don’t carry more than I can (I ended up having everything drop all over the other day because I was trying to bring in what I couldn’t). They’re not being ‘wrong’. They’re just believing all that they’ve always known. That I’m ‘just being sensitive’. Like sensitivity isn’t real. Because sensitivity isn’t real, is it?


I just answered the phone and said this to a friend. She said not they should’ve known, they could’ve known. And yes, whatever else.

When I was 20 E was the first person to tell me that boundaries can exist. Should exist. That you need to listen to the other. I’m surprised I recall her email. She wrote that if her 3 year old grandchild would tell her the bath was too hot she would add cold water to it. She was explaining that she would listen. That one should listen. I’m surprised I recall it. But I guess it makes sense I do. I definitely didn’t expect her to say that she’d act on it. I’d have thought she’d say no it isn’t. Or even it just feels too hot and you’ll get used to it. Or something like that. But no. She would listen. And act on it.

She said that she would knock on her child/grandchilds door, and if they asked her not to come in she wouldn’t. It took me until I was 22 to learn that my thinking things weren’t okay was because they weren’t okay. Not because I was just being sensitive. That people should respect my boundaries.

Hey, off tangent thought. I’m okay with touch from my friends. I’m not okay with touch from some people. It used to be an issue, that I wasn’t okay with touch. I think it’s that, I’m not okay with people who don’t respect my boundaries touching me.

More than I was hurt by the lack of boundaries, I was hurt by being told it was my issue. I always knew that what my mother did or said wasn’t healthy – she’s changed a lot so I feel bad writing this. My father telling me every time I went to him that I was just being sensitive or some variation of that, taught me not to trust myself. Taught me that I’m just being sensitive. That’s also why it took me until I was 22 to know that I’m allowed to have boundaries. That it’s not okay for someone to get upset with me when I’ve asked them not to enter. That it’s not okay to look for things in your adult child’s bag, no matter if what you want is innocent. You can’t go somewhere without asking. I never looked at my mother as a barometer. For anything and everything was always ‘not’. Whatever I said either wasn’t so or was me just being sensitive.

My mother isn’t a bad person. She was brought up by survivors and is learning only now to change the patterns she was raised with. It was easier for her to live in denial of what was going on (how do you face your special needs daughter saying she’s going to kill herself and it’s the families fault? How do you deal with your child killing herself albeit not knowing the risks of what they’re doing because they’re 14? How do you deal with the sibling rivalry that developed into so much more? Etc). She’s learning and been changing the past 5 years.

I looked at my father as the barometer. Because however much denial he lived in, he was definitely in a healthier place. I see now that it’s a dynamic and both my parents are imperfectly perfect. As a kid I always knew that I could approach my father, not my mother. Except that I couldn’t approach him. For instead of helping me deal with anything I asked him advice about he said I’m just being sensitive and it’s my issue. Which I believed. Because it’s my father who was talking. My father who I always idealised.

One of my sisters say it isn’t fair how we all put my mother in the wrong and my father in the right when really they’re both human. I’m not sure that she is right, because, however much I don’t trust my instincts and intuition today, I trust my child knowledge. The younger E knew that my father could be approached. The younger E who hadn’t yet learned that expressing herself is wrong and whatever she says is anyways untrue, knew that her father held the answers. Not because she looked at her father as big and strong but because she knew that her father was healthier.


Whatever. I’m not sure if I should post this. At least it’s not all just in my head. And I’m not feeling as resentful and upset as I started off before putting it down.

The why and wherefore make no difference. Yes it helps to understand why I don’t trust myself (I’ve known it for a long time now). Yes, it helps to know why I struggle with boundaries. The why doesn’t change what is today. Resentment only hurts me. Writing about it helps because I’m expressing it so it’s no longer in my head.

And the reality of today is the reality of today. I don’t trust myself. I’m learning to. I don’t trust my knowledge or my intuition. I’m learning to. Surprisingly others trust my intuition about them, believe I know way more than I do ‘because they know me’. They trust the knowledge I don’t believe is true. I don’t know what I feel pretty much ever. Though the further away it is from me, the more I can feel it. And the more I tune in and allow myself to experience whatever is going on, the more I am experiencing it. The more present I am staying with myself. (Which is how I’m aware that I’m so much on edge. Either I never was on edge, or I just didn’t live with myself). I’m not always present. I’m more and more present both in the world and with myself. I’m not aware of the physical messages my body sends me. I am aware. I’m tuning in and noticing things I wouldn’t have in the past. Like a knee twinge so stop holding myself the way I am. When in the past I wouldn’t have.

The why may give context for myself. The why doesn’t take away my responsibility today. That my reality today is my reality to deal with. The only person holding onto resentment hurts is myself. And, mostly, this is something I can let go of, and for the most part (taking specifically about this) have. Understanding my context helps me understand theirs. Doesn’t take away others responsibilities, but the responsibility isn’t mine.

This is more than long enough. And wasn’t actually what I planned on writing.

This really is 3 different posts. But because I’m writing it for me, (posting because I want a record of it, for now anyways I do) and this isn’t really the topic of my blog, so keeping it as is.

How do you identify yourself?

Just a thought. Trying to clarify this in my mind.

There’s a lot of darkness. There’s a lot of negativity. Some of the choices I’m making really are not the best. However, and this is a big point, I get to choose what I identify with. How I identify myself. What choices define me and what don’t.

A few years ago R’ R said to me along the lines of that it’s up to me to choose which part I identified with. It was re religion but the point is the same. I’ve always remembered it and it’s made a big difference to my life.

What do I choose to identify with?

So, I’m not eating enough at all. It’s a big part of my life today. Just a fact. True. In a big sense it’s an act of self care. There’s self sabotage involved too, but, primarily, I’m looking after myself in the best way I can. Since I cut down a couple weeks ago my mind is much quieter. Until then I’d been thinking a lot about various things I had to emotionally let go off. Re Judaism and the past. Let go so that I can choose what I want my life to be. I still have to let go, but it’s not on my mind. My friends are all really struggling with different things. It’s not so hard for me to handle.

So I’m not eating enough. The only scary part is how it makes self harm (which would automatically mean taking cocodamol) much more of an option.

On the other hand is the rest of my life.

I’ve started running and I’ve kept up with it. Much to my surprise. I think a lot about the idea of motivation. That motivation isn’t the feeling, but actually doing. Motivation is the actions and the feelings come along. I’m not motivated in some sense but I’ve kept at it and I’m so proud of myself for how far I’ve gotten, and mainly for keeping at it even when I feel like I’m literally dragging myself out.

I’ve been making my bed each morning. It might be considered minor to some people but to me it’s really major.

I’ve been aiming to write gratitudes every day. So it’s not every day. And it’s not the 50 new ones a day R and I originally set out to do. I’m still passed 900!!!

I’ve been spending time with my family and loving spending time with them. I’ve gotten to spend time with some truly special people who may be leaving soon and I’ll miss them so much.

I’ve finally realised how much I love taking pictures. I love photography. Specifically nature photography. I don’t think I care so much for pictures per se. I’ve hundreds of photos of leaves, grass, trees, sky, colours, water, birds etc. on my phone. I think I like taking pictures of birds and ducks and some animals.

I’ve been colouring and listening to Louise Hay a lot. I like her thoughts. That our thoughts define us. One thing I noticed myself doing a while ago and I’m trying to keep with it is not to say I hate myself or the like. Rather to name what bothers me and change it from defining me. It doesn’t define me. Nothing I think or do has to define me. I define myself.

I’ve been speaking to a family member who is manipulative, especially with me, a few times. It wasn’t all okay. It was better than it has been. I kept my boundaries more.

I’ve kept my boundaries with someone in my life who is struggling a lot. I didn’t take on responsibility that isn’t mine. I didn’t help, which is one of the hardest and most guilt inducing things I’ve ever done. I’ve been there for her. I’ve gone out with her. I’ve helped her in other ways. But never in a way I was worried about. Never in a way that could possibly be taking on responsibility that isn’t mine. It’s been tough. It’s been really hard to hold her pain, be there for her, care, and not let it impact me. It definitely has impacted me. But for the most part I’ve been okay with it. For the most part when I think I’m guilty for what I haven’t and am not doing (No advice. Ever.) I correct myself. It’s hard to believe I come first. I don’t believe it. I know I don’t come first. Yet I’m putting myself first.

My friends are all struggling with different things. I’ve been there and stepped back. I’ve engaged and disengaged.

I’ve written letters to friends and people so they should know that they are thought of.

What do I identify with???

I get to choose.

Until I wrote this I didn’t realise just how much is so amazing. I’ve also refused to pass opinions with some unhealthy family relationship dynamics. I used to try and speak to the people involved. Help them see what they can do differently. Used to sounds like the past. I mean just a month or two ago. But for the most part I’ve stopped. I’m trying really hard not to suggest anything. Anything at all. Yes, my advice has helped them. But it’s not my place nor my responsibility. And when any of the people speak to me – which for some is, now that I’m thinking about it, completely inappropriate (they should never ask my advice for some of these situations, asking me is crossing boundaries and inappropriate) I try to just listen. Even when they ask for my thoughts and advice. Just to not pass any. It’s not my place and the dynamics are unhealthy enough. I can’t change them. My advice wouldn’t change the dynamics. What I’ve learned most from this during the past few months of extended family time is that everyone is right. And there are shades of grey. I used to think there was a good person and a bad person. I’m seeing it’s a dance of good behaviours and bad behaviours. And they are all a mixture of healthy and unhealthy. The people I thought unhealthy are surprisingly healthy, just dealing with their pain in the best way they can. The one I thought healthiest is actually not. Hurts to see that about someone I idealise.

So there’s all the good going on. Way more than I realise or give myself credit for. Yes there’s the negative too. I’m not taking care of myself in some ways that I’m way too embarrassed to even write down. I’m not eating enough (which is an act of self care too). I’ve thought way too much about burning myself.

Life is always a mixture.

Last week I was wondering whether I wanted therapy. Because I was offered it. I know now that I don’t. Therapy, at least in the typical way, will make my life worse. A large part of why I’ve been thinking about burning was speaking to this woman. There’s something I really believe in. Embracing what the universe sends to me. The universe sent me an assessment (still continuing) to a referral I requested 1.5 years ago. This woman seems to think I should go for what I asked. Which will probably be a years wait. If she requests it, she does. She’ll probably decide next week. If she doesn’t, she doesn’t. Will I want it? I don’t know. That is something I can see and decide then.

There really and truly is so much good in my world.

What am I choosing to identify with?

I can identify with the freaking out. Or with the 1.5 hour drive that I discovered some cool roads on that I drove until I was okay. I can identify with the thoughts of ‘I may as well just burn coz it’s so easy and I want to.’ I can identify with the choice not to. I can identify with purging and not eating. Or I can identify with choosing to try eat enough not to get dizzy.

I can identify with the boundaries I don’t keep and the guilt I feel whenever I keep a boundary. Or I can identify with the knowledge and ability to keep boundaries. With the awareness I’m allowed to. With the knowledge that people who guilt trip me are wrong, and the pride and the achievement of keeping and doing what is best for me no matter how hard it is for me.

I can identify with all I don’t know. I don’t know what I want for my life or how to get there. I don’t understand or recognise feelings or emotions with myself. I can identify with what I do know. I know my field of interest. I recognise some body sensations. I can identify with how often I disconnect from myself. Constantly :). I can identify with being present in a world, something I’m always grateful for because I love it.

I can identify with what I don’t know what I think or want regard

I can identify with how hard it is to do things I care about and want to do but just don’t do them because I don’t know why but it just doesn’t happen and I really wish it would (see, no I hate that I’m not. No I’m guilty. No I’m stupid or bad. Just, I really wish I’d be doing what means a lot to me). Or I can identify with what I AM keeping to. What I AM doing and succeeding in doing.

I can identify with the good or the bad. With the present or the lack. With the positive choices or the negative. With the pride or the guilt.

What do I identify myself with?

I get to choose. I choose the good things.

What do you identify with?

This was not what I expected. I didn’t expect to ramble so much. If you read through this all, thank you…

Love, light, and glitter

I’m grateful to R’ R for the comment he said at least 5 years ago which I’m site he doesn’t recall, which has really impacted my life (effect vs affect = impact).