Remembering Sharon...

It's been a year since one of my dearest friends went home to heaven...Sharon Garland died on April 25, 2009. She was a fierce advocate, a lover of life, an "in your face kinda girl" and the consummate momma bear. So many memories flood my heart today like warm tears shed out of sheer joy. I loved that girl with all my heart. She made me laugh. She let me be me. She taught me the power of sharing our stories. She gave confidence a new face. Bravery was her middle name. A diamond in the rough! She was my friend, confidant, caretaker, and esteemed colleague. She helped me understand the stronghold of addiction. One of these days, I'll give you a proper introduction to the lady whose charisma could have catapulted her into the office of presidency of the United States (if only she hadn't inhaled). For now, I'd love you to hear her story. Please read it with your soul.

In 2003, Sharon wrote this upon my request to help our volunteers at Oak Street House understand the heart of addiction.

ADDICTED TO FEELING NOTHING
I am a child who has been beaten, emotionally, physically, sexually, and spiritually.
I have learned how to please everyone and trust no one, not even myself.
I have little or no self-esteem.
I will lie, manipulate, and steal, to get what I need and what I really need is understanding.
The understanding that I am vulnerable and sensitive, too sensitive so I medicate, I isolate,
I keep everything inside until I am about to burst.
You may never see me cry, then I would be exposed, I would be pathetic,
Though I can cry on command.
How will you know when the tears are real, or just another guise to make you mine?
You wonder what type of person would set out to purposely destroy their lives, not I.
Yet, you see, I have shut down a long time ago and this is the only way I know how to feel,
How to feel nothing inside.
I am a child, who has never had the chance to grow up with love,
Kindness, affection, or understanding.
I am pimp; I am whore who wields the sword of power over my victims.
I am a casualty of my surroundings, and a predator in the making.
If you show me weakness the only thing I know, is how to take advantage,
Because my survival for the longest time has depended on the moment when I feel the need not to suffer anymore.
I live to not feel, and sometimes no matter how much dope I have I still can never escape,
Because everyday I wake I face an existence of pure pain.
When I come in from the madness, I am exposed, raw, and scared,
And now I am supposed to feel.
What happens when I feel and I don’t know how to handle my thoughts
Because I never have had them before,
I am going to get angry, I am going to push you away,
I am going to isolate and hope I can find a way to deaden the ache.
I am going back to what I know, even if that way will eventually cause me so much more pain,
Because you see it is what I know.
When you punish me, I laugh in your face, you could never do anything so terrible to me that
I have not done to myself already, more devastating then you could ever imagine.
So I wonder what are you trying to teach me, some lesson in life’s consequences,
You better find another way.
I need to know there is a place for me, to grow, to live, to not be humiliated
Because you really don’t have a clue, do you - the hell I have been living.
Now you want me to transform, overnight, when it took me many long years
To get where I am now.
Look at my survival skills, look at the strength and determination
I possess to be sitting here right this minute;
Believe that I am worthy inside, even when I don’t.
You try to help though I fight you all the way, it is not my intent to disrespect you,
But until I am ready to admit I have a problem, I may seem like a waste of your time.
But whatever you do, do not think that I am hopeless,
For the seed has been planted and some of us just take longer to bloom than others.
Everyone else has given up on me, so why not you, show me that my existence is worthwhile,
Even though I cannot love myself right now, please love me anyways.
Even when I am angry, let me know that you are there for me,
Let me fall but be there to guide me back.
I am a child who has been stripped of everything and I do not know
Or have never been shown that there is a different way.
Give me options, give me praise, but do not try to humble me, only I can do that.
Let me know trust, let me know that I am a valuable human being.
Do not let me run circles around you.
Let me make mistakes, be there to walk me through the process,
Do not let go until letting go might be the only way to show me love.
For you see I will tell you anything you want to hear
But what you need to do is to watch what I do.
When I start shutting down and my behaviors start to change you need to pull me up,
You need to call my bluff, and the danger in that is that my bluff could kill me.

Written by Sharon Garland, January 2003

my favorite hoodie

It’s tattered.  It has that lived-in-feeling. It’s what my mom calls threadbare and given the opportunity she would throw it out in a New York minute.  It’s literally (and figuratively) my comfort zone.  It’s like an old dear friend that knows me inside and out.  It has known the triumphs and oh-has-it seen the glory of my messiness.  My favorite hoodie has been “snot on” by little ones, cried on by mamas, hugged on, cursed at by wounded souls, sweat in and loved.  If this hoodie could talk - it would write these contemplations with ease.  It’s wise beyond its years in regards to emotional boundaries - both healthy and unhealthy.

I know it’s wisdom because I wore this hoodie every Monday night when I was the director at Oak Street House.  I got down and dirty on Mondays.  It was the night of the week when we were all about living life together - the good, the bad and the ugly.  I got down on the floor and played with the kids - oh the memories of laughing, singing, crying for mama, and taking rides on the “silly train”.  Monday night was “mandatory”!  We all ate dinner together as a family.  We took turns cooking.  We invited friends.  And THEN there was house meeting - oh my!  House meeting was where we “duked it out” - I mean figured out this thing we call community and how to live together in something that was supposed to resemble harmony.  Envision yourself living together in a beautiful Victorian with nine of your dearest girlfriends and all of your children are under the age of five - can you say difficult, if not impossible?  House meeting was our weekly intensive, crash course in boundaries - the DO’s and DON’Ts of healthy boundaries.

Oak Street House is where I learned all about the power of emotional boundaries. It’s where I grew healthier.  I used to chuckle with my clinical supervisor when I was in the throes of self-discovery.  I’d say everyone should have to work with the homeless and those in recovery - it’s like holding up a mirror to see all of the icky stuff that lives within the walls of your own true self.  Needless to say, with perseverance, patience and love we all grew healthier, that is, all of us who were willing to put forth the effort.

I’m wearing my blue hoodie right now.   It’s going to help me write my messiest contemplations to date.  You see, I’ve been a bit stuck.  The five foundations of this forthcoming book are growth, communication, the power of girlfriends, making life matter and boundaries.  Boundaries *sigh*.  Really, I tried not to save the hardest for last ~ these last contemplations have become the vegetables on the plate of a 3-year-old. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve sat down to “contemplate” the matter of boundaries since starting to write this book a year and a half ago. Once stuck, I put off the writing until later. The “later” train has now pulled into the station.  You’d think it would be easy for me.  I’ve learned so much and I’ve facilitated a number of workshops and retreats on the subject.  Yet, it’s not easy to put the un-pretty stuff of life down on paper - especially when it’s not a black and white subject matter.  

I’ve had a number of brainstorming sessions with Brad and Lisa, my coach, to help me get unstuck in this part of the writing.  Brad and I came up with the list of boundary titles to contemplate.  Last week, Lisa suggested starting off with a confession of why it’s so difficult to write about this subject.  This week’s brainstorm was my blue hoodie.  I’m finally writing.  Yay!  

Interestingly enough, I wonder if there’s a parallel process going on here?  I wonder if that’s what we all do when it comes time to put forth the effort to grow in an especially difficult place within ourselves?  Did someone say healthy boundaries?  Do we get stuck?  Do we keep putting off the process until later?  Until later arrives and it’s NOW necessary.  Hmmm...I wonder?

Words and phrases that come to mind when I think about boundaries ~ necessary, complicated, nuances, freedom, seemingly moving targets, protection, energy-draining, hard work, self awareness, discovery, growth, and my favorite - MESSY.

Just look at what dictionary.com has to say about the word MESSY:
Part of Speech:  adjective
Definition: cluttered, dirty
Synonyms: blotchy, careless, chaotic, confused, dishelved, disordered, disorganized, grimy, grubby, littered, muddled, rumpled, raunchy, slapdash, slipshod, sloppy, slovenly, unfastidious, unkempt, untidy
Antonyms: clean, ordered, organized, uncluttered

I confess I’m not the expert on boundaries but I’ve learned a whole bunch in my study and practice of healthy boundaries.  I’ve seen firsthand the power of boundaries defined.  I've learned that healthy boundaries are a journey not a destination.  I know they can help us live a life filled with Less Drama.  Boundaries protect us.  They help us know where we begin and where we end.  They help us keep the good in and let the bad out.  They help us know what is our responsibility and what isn’t. They help us live in community together.  Boundaries help us keep in relationship with the safe people and say goodbye to the toxic people in our lives.  Boundaries help us know when to say yes and when to say no.  So, over the next couple of weeks I will be sharing some of my contemplations and insights.  Note to self, you have now just “told the world” - there’s the accountability you’ve been needing.

If these contemplations in the coming weeks spark in you an interest to grow in the area of healthy boundaries, I encourage you to read the various boundaries books by Henry Cloud and John Townsend, you can find them on amazon.com.  They are my boundary gurus.  I think their books should be in the “dummies” section of the bookstore instead of the self-help section, i.e. “Boundaries for Dummies”.  They make the content easy to digest and they get to the heart of the matter.  They know boundaries.

So, there you have it ~ a picture of my favorite hoodie with it’s back story, a confession on why it’s so difficult to write about boundaries and a commitment to write some on this very messy subject.  I hope you are ready to embark on this last leg of the journey with me.  My friend, Cindy Mitchell, said earlier today - hurry up with the veggies, so we can get on with dessert.

Still Writing,
Cindy