Being Homeless

Being Homeless

Being homeless means wearing clothes you did not pick out.

Being homeless means eating what they give you.

Being homeless means having to hear a sermon before you can eat.

Being homeless means being asked for you ID by the police for being in the park.

Being homeless means hiding everything you own so no one will throw them away.

Being homeless means spending most of your day with addicts and the mentally ill, even if you yourself are not.

Being homeless means people are surprised you have an opinion on the presidential election.

Being homeless means walking several miles to eat.

Being homeless means eating meals in a soup kitchen no person would ever order in a restaurant.

Being homeless means rich church folks giving you second hand underwear.

Being homeless means standing in line for everything.

Being homeless means having to pee but local merchants won't let you use their bathroom.

Being homeless means crying when it rains, because everything you own is ruined.

Being homeless means having to choose between standing in line for hours to get food, clothing, or medical attention or going to work today.

Being homeless means paying $5 to cash that $47 check.

Being homeless means wondering how you are supposed to get a job when you cannot take a shower.

Being homeless means being afraid to tell anyone where you sleep.

Being homeless means talking to your children on a borrowed phone.

Being homeless means being afraid to hope anymore.

                                                     ~anonymous

Forgiving Myself

The Courage to Forgive Myself

“How could you do that?” – was a question I asked myself many times daily.

When I was a newly recovering addict, I had such a pile of regrets there was just no way that I could ever be forgiven.

Ruminating about the depth of my shame caused increasing feelings of worthlessness and low self-esteem. I resented and loathed myself so much that for months getting up out of bed and functioning for a day was the only goal I set.  Focused on what a horrible person I was, I felt that I wasn’t deserving of anything good at all.

Even as I went through active addiction over that past 10 years, I was close to God. I attended a women’s bible study and church service on Sunday. I believe that because I had been searching for God and wanting him to help me, he heard me and got me to where I needed to go: a superb treatment facility for my addictions. After completing treatment, I believed that Jesus had forgiven me, but I didn't feel forgiven. I felt hopeless and defeated.

Everywhere I went, everything I did, I dragged along an armful of musty smelling old luggage with name-tags hanging from the handles saying “shame.” I was forever in a state of self-flagellation. I couldn't forgive myself.

Imprisoned by memories that might never let me go, I was surviving but not living. I became despondent. I was in bondage. I believed that forgiving myself would meant that I wasn't taking any responsibility for what I did. I wanted to take responsibility and never repeat those bad behaviors again.

Albert Einstein said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” I had lived like that for 9 years. Insanity was no longer an option.

In Hickory, North Carolina, there is a day weekday shelter program specifically for women that provides safety, shelter, and a positive program. There is a van that picks women up at the homeless shelter around 8:30 am or you can walk there yourself.  Days are structured. Walking into in building in the morning, you sign in and take a point’s sheet. Listed are ways that you earn points to get toiletries, underwear, socks, umbrellas, clothes, cosmetics and bus passes. Friday is the day you can cash in your points.

Every weekday the program starts at 9 am with Bible study and devotions. A volunteer usually comes in and leads the session. Afterwards, until lunch, there are various activities like playing games, doing crafts, reading, cleaning, watch a movie, play bingo, etc. until lunch.

One day I was reading a book I borrowed at the day program to earn points titled Beauty for Ashes by Joyce Meyer. She explained how she was having a difficult time feeling forgiven about some things she had done in her life even though she knew God had forgiven her. She realized that problem was that she hadn't forgiven herself.

That was an epiphany for me. Realizing that not forgiving myself was not doing anything positive for me

or anyone else that I had wronged, I mentally summed up the courage and was willing to try to forgive myself.

Within only a day’s time, I felt more optimistic. I envisioned dropping off that armful of baggage that I had lugged around with me and continued walking down life's highway without them. I didn't look back; I just walked forward down the road. I felt the sun on my face. I would not let my past behaviors define me. Increasing my faith in God was necessary if I was going to get back on track and start doing positive things in my life.

I told God that I was sorry for not forgiving myself. If God forgave me, why wouldn't I forgive myself?

Nothing is more powerful and freeing than forgiveness. If I hadn’t forgive myself it would mean that I believed the lies of what a worthless person I was that Satan put in my head. My thoughts and feelings don’t always originate from me. Don’t underestimate the power of evil. Remember the devil recited scripture when he was tempting Jesus in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1). I experienced a freedom. I could now choose what I wanted to focus on.

By letting go of the fear that I would repeat my atrocious past behavior, I put my trust in God that he would help me not repeat those behaviors if I only asked and followed His will for my life. Since February of 2011 I have poured my love and attention into what God wants me to do. I opened myself to the idea of hope through forgiveness. I just had to try.

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Matthew 11:29-30.

Homelessness is a Courage Developer

Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Who the hell is going to read that crap that you write? You are homeless… a nobody.”

Homelessness has developed a new-found courage within me. In so many areas of my life I feel as if I am moving forward in the roominess of a fresh start. Gone are many earlier reservations of trying something new. 

I have trepidations regarding writing. While I have only been blogging for week, I have made such great progress.

I am an over educated homeless woman. While teachers educate us, they also have the capacity to strip away individuality, imagination, and uniqueness. In the summer 1983, when I was between the 11th and 12th grade, I started taking college classes at Jamestown Community College, beginning with core required writing classes. I enjoyed writing and it came easy for me. I remember peacefully sitting on a classic retro aluminum folding lawn chair on our back patio listening to the birds while writing drafts in a spiral notebook. I earned “A's” in both classes.

Jamestown Community College
Jamestown New York

Moving forward, the Bachelor’s program in Elementary Education required that I have a concentration. Some choices were Reading, Math, Special Education, and English. I chose English. I enjoyed every literature class and “A’s” came easy until I took a class on comedy writing. I ended up with a ‘B’ even though I worked harder in that class than any of my other literature, linguistic, and writing classes. I fervently tried to decipher and emulate exactly what the professor was looking for. I never really got it right.

I moved on to a Master’s Degree Program in Early Childhood Education. While graduate school demands more technical writing like would be in peer-reviewed research journals, I gravitated to the in-depth study of understanding of human behavior called qualitative research. 

I felt good about my writing and research and presented my research and findings at both national and international conferences.

Many professionals feel that qualitative research isn't "real research." The preferred research methodology is still the number-crunching quantitative variety. Qualitative research is scrutinized as biased. However, anytime there are humans involved in any research there will be bias and subjectivity.

I discovered what horror writing could be while working on my Ph.D. One professor was never really satisfied with my papers. There was a VERY SPECIFIC manner in which he wanted me to write. I tried and tried and tried to figure it out and emulate it but I failed miserably to get it right. Unfortunately, the professor I couldn't make happy was my advisor.

I developed a fear of writing. The fear of writing became so bad that it became a challenge for me to turn papers in on time. I went over and over my papers and never felt that they were right  I underwent Behavioral Counseling over this struggle and I also went to the Office of Disability Services to meet with a counselor one on one to go over my papers. None of the half-dozen counselors who read my papers ever found a problem with anything I wrote. I had another student in my classes read my papers. He would switch a few of the words around and the paper would read much better, but I wasn't able to make my advisor any happier with the next paper.

In May of the spring semester, my advisor said that he wanted to see me in his office. I followed him in and sat down. "Paula, I just don’t think that you are quite up to par with the rest of the students in your cohort.” The department gave my Research Assistantship and Tuition Waiver to another student. In reality I was being told I could get a doctorate, but not from this university. He told that I just didn't process information right in my head. This couldn't be happening. I relocated to North Carolina, 13 hours away from my home, and had spent 4 grueling semesters to get to this far. I was not able to attain a Ph.D. because I couldn't afford the tuition.

I am still carrying the fear, but I am dedicated to getting past it and once again enjoy writing. I am a lifetime fan and follower of ‘feel the fear and do it anyway.’ Homelessness has given me an attitude of "it can only get better from here," and I have a fresh courage to try different things to help me feel that I am able to contribute to the betterment of society. I wish I still had the retro lawn chair!

 God is Good All the Time

Homelessness Research

I would like to pass along a link to The Selected Works of Dennis P. Culhane, a researcher at the University of Pennsylvania, who's research focus is in the area of homelessness and assisted housing policy. 


http://homeless.samhsa.gov/Search.aspx?tagId=6163&search=Culhane%2C+Dennis