Danielle Leonard

Tag: addiction

• Every day can be Paradise

  Posted at 11:37 am by Danielle Leonard, on May 17, 2018

  

   

  Sometimes I find myself feeling guilty when sharing about good fortune, a chance in a lifetime trip, and enjoying the fruits of our labor. I’m apologetic or downplay the excitement in my voice in a conversation. There is a slight deflection in my tone as if I were apologizing for spilling milk on the floor. Mind you, I’m not running around shouting it from the trees, but why the heck can ‘t I? Why can’t you?

  I remind myself that at one point in my life I was in the depths of Hell. There was no light or good fortune, but darkness and despair and addiction. God isn’t one of guilt but of celebration. I am thankful for every chance I get to experience another day here on Earth. Aren’t you?! Think about the trials and tribulations you have gone through. Look around and do you see the beauty in another day? Celebrate good fortune coming your way and the gifts from which you receive. If you are still deep in your trial, remember, it is merely a moment in time and it shall pass. It can be hard when you are in the deep end of the ocean fighting against wave after wave. I feel you. Life is a series of twists and turns – some are devasting, gut-wrenching, soul-depleting tornadoes. For other people, they seem to skate through life with a few small trips to the ground but nothing more than a scrape to the knee. Either way, we journey and we survive. We journey and we survive.

  So today I celebrate life. It is good to be alive. I am blessed to feel the rain on my face and feel the depths of love through my children’s hugs. I enjoy sitting in my freshly painted home and taking in the fumes. I see my hanging baskets outside filled with vibrant colors of flowers and bask in their beauty. Today I got to walk two 8-year-olds to school and laughed at their silly conversations as I walked behind and I took a mental snapshot so I never forget the moment. I got to experience an incredible sunrise in Hawai’i recently and I am not sorry to share it. How majestic is His name!

  In the same breath, later that day, I will remember the beautiful girl with the long blonde hair in the parking lot across from the sparkling blue water and sandy beach. She was strung out, sitting on a curb and smoking her cigarette. She was staring at two dogs playfully wrestling in front of her totally oblivious to her catatonic state. This woman was deep in her Hell, in paradise, and life was swirling around her as she was frozen in time. I felt her pain, prayed a prayer for her and carried an image of her in my head for the rest of the trip. I still see, God. I do. All the more reason to keep sharing your story. Our story. Hope is real and it is fuel for others. Hang on, people. Just hang on for those in the struggle.

  Second chances, big and small, are such a gift. Celebrate your life unapologetically if you are in a season of fruitfulness.

  Share your good fortune (not just monetary) because, in essence, you are sharing God’s goodness.

   

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  Posted in addiction, faith, freedom, life, mental health, momblog, Peace, Spirtiuality, Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged addiction, empathy, encouragement, faith, freedom, God, Impact, Kindness, life, love, mental health, people, positivity, spirituality, spirtuality, truth, warrior

• Left with a Bucket & Booze

  Posted at 9:45 am by Danielle Leonard, on December 12, 2017

  

  I watched him through the wall of glass as I sat at the desk in the administration building of the men’s crisis center. There was a backdrop of sparsely littered trees, naked and shivering in the cold wind, and the sun was making a half-attempt to warm the surrounding concrete jungle and abandoned buildings. It was as if the sun gave up on this embarrassing piece of land because there isn’t a point anymore. This is the neighborhood that is conveniently left out of the vibrant-colored brochures showcasing the “must see” sights in Cleveland.  Curiosity got the best of me because I could not understand why this man was walking with a bucket in his hand in the middle of a 30-degree morning.

  He shuffled to the front door, placed his white bucket with a sealed top down, and proceeded to walk in the entrance hallway. He was a large man with a bloated belly, a few teeth missing, and was wearing dirty white sneakers that forgot to put on their laces that morning. He looked a bit like a disheveled kid with his jacket unzipped. I buzzed him in and as he entered I felt the wave of alcohol ripple through the air and it smacked me right in the nostrils. I welcomed him with a warm smile, “How may I help you?”

  “Hi, Ma’am,” he politely said, “I’m just looking for a pair of warm pants.” I looked him in the eyes as the cold snot ran down his lip. I wondered how many people avoid making eye contact with him on a daily basis. All day long people avoiding this homeless man, as they nervously speed up their pace to pass by or over him. They play right into the rumor if you look a homeless person in the eyes they will steal your first born, or worse, your soul.

  I gently explained to him the policies of our center, how we serve our clients staying in our shelter, and encouraged him to go next door to get a bed. I could see in his eyes that he probably wasn’t going that route and gave him a street card. It is a double-sided paper with a list of resources and phone numbers to the city’s services for those in crisis.

  “Do you have a phone?” I asked. “No, ma’am,” he replied. I proceeded to give him directions to a church that happened to hand out clothing to those in need on that very day. A soft boozy “thank you” floated my way, and he walked out the door.

  I can’t save this man. I know it. I can’t fix him in the 5 mins of human connection we just experienced, probably the only connection he will receive today. I do know one thing, I can be empathetic and that I’m certain. I’m not naive to the fact that he could very well be dangerous, but I can feel his pain. I know I can take a moment and pray for his alcohol addiction and for freedom from his bondage.

  I encapsulate the pain he has caused his family. I can see the relationships he was supposed to be in charge of but he broke instead. I can envision his downward spiral to homelessness, left with a bucket and the clothes on his back. He didn’t have an ID and I didn’t even ask him his name. I can feel the empty love he probably received as a child. Sadly there could be a father he never knew and I see the hugs he never got to receive from him. I know the tumultuous love affair he has with alcohol and how it has robbed his self-worth and the integrity he once possessed. Maybe he served our country and saw the bloodshed of war. There is a possibility that mental illness has ravished his brain. Perhaps he witnessed abuse, was a victim of it or was the abuser himself. Maybe, just maybe, he chose this life and he doesn’t give a flying donkey. Although I would argue that because his voice was soft and full of thankful defeat.

  I can imagine what it is like to surrender to your demons and leave your “man card” back in the alley of your last party. It takes guts to look someone in the eye, vulnerable to the esoteric, and ask for a pair of warm pants. He was too appreciative for me to believe he was living a life of intentional reckless abandon. No. He is a prisoner to his own vices. He and his lover, alcohol, have probably left a trail of destruction in their wake but who I am to push his head even deeper into the waves.

  As I watched him sit on the bucket outside (ah that is why – he uses it as a mobile chair), and review the street card I gave him, the tears welled up in my eyes. The pain of realizing the bucket and booze were the last pieces grasping for purpose in this man’s life, was too much for my heart to handle. No, I can’t help him. His needs are far too great. But I can treat him like a human for a few mere minutes of my time. That I can do.

  Until next time, be well, my friend.

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  Posted in addiction, alcoholism, depression, family dysfunction, family issues, freedom, life, mental health, Spirtiuality, Uncategorized | 1 Comment | Tagged addiction, alcoholism, depression, empathy, homeless, homelessness, Impact, Kindness, life, mental health, people, spirtuality, truth

• When Instagram Can’t Filter Your Sadness

  Posted at 12:30 am by Danielle Leonard, on July 21, 2017

  

  Depression is like that annoying little sibling who follows you everywhere and wants to make you miserable with every breath you take. “Are you sure you are okay? Do you really think you are happy? Aren’t you kind of failing at life right now? The mom thing…meh…mediocre. Chasing after your dreams..please….you are nuts. I’m not sure, maybe you should look in the mirror a little longer so you can see the failure I see. Hey, look at Sally Sue’s page, she is in Prague and doesn’t have to fix her air conditioner. Oh, look, Nick just saved a family of kittens stuck in a tree. Mary just solved world peace and eradicated world hunger!!!!!” So on and so forth. It follows you into the shower, your car, the book you are reading, at the play ground, in the pool with your kids, and wakes you up in the middle of the night to rattle off every single bad thing you have done in your life.

  It is the shenanigans in your brain that start to set up camp. The SUV pulls up to a grassy spot in your head and pops open the trunk to start unloading all the junk stored in there. As fear, doubt, boredom, and failure set up at the campsite they overtake your mind. Before you know it, anything you set out to accomplish has run off with confidence, and you are stuck back at the site listening to fear tell you scary stories around the fire. It’s that feeling of dread that lingers over you and follows you with every move you make and thoughts race through the mind when you sit in idleness.

  Then throw in some social media surfing to warp your brain even more and cause you to believe everyone is doing way better than you are. We all know it is an illusion exposing the best side of their face but we allow our minds to be tricked. Heck, even I do it. The pictures are filtered with Instagram’s Mayfair or  Nashville (when you want to really portray an artsy hipster), yet, you allow it to join in with the other campers and pitch a tent. Sigh. Who allowed this jerk to hang out? Depression – the soul-sucking life-taking, not giving, thing that merely wants to bring you down with every move you make.

  It hit me like a ton of bricks last week. It was an overwhelming sadness that oozed like a festering blister into every crevice of my brain. In all honesty, I haven’t felt that way in years. If I recall, probably since my Anna Banana was born. I had some bouts of postpartum depression that rocked me for a few months but I’ve managed to skate through the last few years with very minimal feelings of sadness. Minus losing my Mother-in-law and life’s little stresses here and there, I’ve been real good.

  Here is the deal, if I’m honest I let it in with my own free will. If I do an accountability check there are a few things that I have let slip. I stopped writing, exercise has been sporadic, diet has been average, and I haven’t tapped into relationships around me or connected with God as much. I also ran out of Vitamin B which is detrimental to hindering my brain fog and feelings of sadness. My husband lovingly calls Vitamin B my crazy pill. Natural drugs, of course, because we are a Chiropractic loving family after all. When all of these things are in practice, I am armored with the tools I need to fight off the feelings of despair wanting to infiltrate the happy trail I am skipping along on.

  Thankfully, it was only a week long. There were a few times my thoughts went pretty dark but small things started to happen to lift me out. A friend reached out with a proposal of sorts for me to participate in an event later in the year. I received an email from a stranger asking to share my writing. I joined Ctown in my area for the next 6 week fitness program. Someone shared with me their struggles with depression the very week I was suffering. Slowly the clouds lift and the sun returns. That’s the thing we can focus on. Not the sadness or the deceitful lies inside fighting over the last S’mores. The sun will always return as dependable as ever.

  It is okay to allow ourselves some forgiveness. We can always recoup from the position we put ourselves into. It is even okay to take the filter off and let people see behind the smoke and mirrors. It gives an opportunity to share our struggles and help others know they are not alone. Let me tell you from experience, Isolation, is one of the most obnoxious campers of all. The one who strums the guitar, drowning all the other voices out, singing Pink Floyd’s “Is Anyone Out There” over and over on repeat. Alone. Just you and Isolation’s out of tune key being carried out throughout the campsite and surrounding forest. Don’t let it fool you. Because you are not. We are not. Alone is the grandest of illusions that cannot thrive as long as we have each other.

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  Posted in addiction, depression, faith, life, momblog, Peace, Spirtiuality | 6 Comments | Tagged addiction, depression, encouragement, freedom, God, men, mental health, people, positivity, truth, warrior, Women

• Naked in Truth. Does this angle make my butt look big?

  Posted at 3:12 pm by Danielle Leonard, on May 17, 2017

  

  If you are reading this chances are you know a bit about me or perhaps you don’t. If you don’t know much about me feel free to check out my bio. It pretty much sums me up in a paragraph. I’m not sure if that is pathetic or not, but it is the times we live in and we have 30 seconds to share who we are and then your audience is bouncing to the next thing. Today we function in Snapchat speed – ten seconds or less – GO!

  Over the last year and a half, I’ve broken down the barriers of shame and shared my story. Along with that many things have happened and many feelings transpired. The first time I shared my story was via a fundraising campaign and I posted it on social media. As soon as I clicked the ‘share’ button I broke out in a sweat and completely panicked, “What did I do?! How do I erase it? Is there somebody I can contact in the Internets, like a customer service department? Oh, I know. How about contacting that group, Anonymous (the internet warriors), and have them virtually blow up my story into a million little pieces!!!” There must be a red button that can be pushed and KABBBBOOOOMMMMM. The story is gone. The truth can be erased. Clean. Simple. No trace of truth residue.

  I compare sharing the truth to standing in a room completely naked and on a pedestal while a room full of people walk around with clipboards in their hand. There are some artsy-types that sketch out your curves and quietly whisper to each other. They appreciate art and in fact, one is inspired to write a poem. One woman, in particular, has her glasses riding on the ridge of her nose, pencil tucked gently in the corner of her mouth, as she nods with approval. She sketches with an intensity and a soft face full of approval. There are two men standing nearby the lady sketching and they assess every single detail of the body. They banter back and forth dissecting every square inch. Over in the corner, there are a few women leaning against the wall and they are far enough the ear can’t hear what they are saying. Oh, but their faces tell a thousand stories and they point, laugh, and roll their eyes. Then a family wanders in and immediately they are shocked. How dare truth be shared! How dare someone share about addiction, abuse, and suicide?! Where is the dignity? Shouldn’t these conversations be private and behind closed doors?? Disgusted the couple covers the eyes of their two children and ushers them out of the room.

  Then an older woman walks in with her Pomeranian in her hands and Hermes scarf around her neck. Ah, yes, I know how this lady is going to act, I say to myself. I stand there shivering in nakedness waiting for this lady to start ripping me to shred but I am wrong. She immediately cries and clutches her Pomeranian tighter in her arms, “Oh, FiFi, her truth is my truth! I was once a wanderer in the very same path she has walked. What victory! How brave to share such truth!” She tosses a thumbs up with her perfectly manicured fingers my way and walks out of the room with an extra pep in her step.

  You see, I can judge myself. I have been completely thrown off my game with different reactions. People I assumed would be embarrassed for me because I was so vulnerable and raw turned out to be my biggest supporters and opened up their own truth with me. Others I thought would be understanding have thrown a bit of shade my way. There have been highs and lows over the course of the last year and a half. There are times of confidence and absolute regret. I have had amazing conversations and some very uncomfortable conversations. When people talk to me in person there are times I am dying inside. It is wayyyyyy easier to share the truth behind a computer screen. I see how easy it is to become an Internet warrior sloughing off at the mouth through a keyboard. People be crazy on the Internet!

  There has been one thing that remains constant in truth – layers of freedom are revealed. Each time truth is shared another layer of shame, regret, and bondage is stripped from the bones. For every time there is a feeling of immediate regret, a person reaches out to assure you that your truth is welcome and very much needed. There is a dire need for stories of truth to be shared today. There are so many battles being fought and all you have to do is log on to the Internet and you will find people hurting and seeking understanding. As we each begin to share our struggles and battles, another person strips naked and jumps up on the pedestal. Before you know it, we will all be standing there completely naked, in all shapes and sizes, and none will be the fool. Nothing to see here, folks, just a bunch of truth-tellers stripped of shame and regret basking naked in the light of freedom. Won’t you give it a try and join us?

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  Posted in addiction, faith, life, Peace, Spirtiuality | 1 Comment | Tagged addiction, freedom, life, spirtuality, truth, warrior

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