The Drawing Out Process - Inmate Stories

Tom and "Confused"

20 May 2013 2:11 PM | Anonymous

Round-faced with a ruddy complexion and a sweet set of little-boy blue eyes, Tom was very confused. He had drawn himself inside a box, tears streaming down his face, surrounded by question marks, chained to iron balls marked "Religion".

Hanging over him were "shame", "fear", and "rejection", as he struggled with being an abuser with sexual addictions and behaviors. Outside this box were freedom and love, but he couldn't reach them. He was trapped in a prison of shame and loneliness.

Though I never learned what landed Tom in prison (I never ask - it isn't my concern), my sense was that he may have molested a child.

He had labeled his inner character "Confused", so Confused was my first point of entry into clearing Tom's struggle.

Confused shared details of Tom's childhood: both parents were intensely religious and intensely restrictive, as well. Just about everything was considered "wrong" and "shameful". This, of course, included sex. Tom said that the topic was never discussed.

Prior to my session with Tom, one of the other men in the group, Greg, had told the story of being severely beaten by his mother after she saw him with an erection - and of the shame and confusion he felt from that incident. I responded, "Beating a little boy for having an erection is like beating him for breathing."

I asked Greg, "As a little boy, could you control whether or not you had an erection?" Greg replied, "No." I continued, "No, you couldn't. An erection is a natural bodily function. The reality is, we are sexual beings. And yet so many people have been taught to be at odds with their own bodies, their own innate sexuality..."

Tom, like Greg, was struggling with intense feelings of shame. As a result, Tom came to believe he himself was shameful.

Eventually, we were able to pinpoint the root of Tom's intense confusion...

One day, when Tom was a young boy, his mother discovered he had a copy of Playboy magazine in his room. Young boys often do, in their burgeoning curiosity about the opposite sex. She became very upset and left Tom's father to deal with the issue, "which he didn't, of course", added Tom. His father simply took the magazine away.

Later on, Tom went down to the basement only to find his father looking at the Playboy he had just confiscated from Tom.

This - more than the constant shaming and judgment from his parents - this is what hurt Tom the most... what finally caught him in his throat. And he began to cry.

Tom's father's hypocrisy was at the root of his intense confusion. "Do as I say, not as I do." How many parents model this discrepancy for their children? So many. Tom's turmoil stemmed from discovering that his own father didn't abide by the beliefs his parents so ardently claimed to espouse.

I reiterated for the group what happens inside when we suppress how we feel: rather than the feeling going away, it gets worse. The pressure builds. And, before long, it explodes out - sometimes with terrible consequences, such as criminal behaviors.

Why does this happen? Simple. Newton's Third Law of Motion: "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." When we try to suppress our thoughts and emotions, they push back. Why? Because they're following the laws of physics. It's that simple.

On the other hand, when we accept how we feel - when we drop the judgment and nurture a healthy, loving attitude towards ourselves - those intense feelings gradually subside, we reduce the inner struggle and feel more at peace. When we are at peace with ourselves, we virtually eliminate the likelihood that we will hurt ourselves or explode our pain out onto others.

Connecting this concept to Greg's story, I asked Tom, "What happens when you try to suppress your sexual thoughts and impulses? Do they go away?" "No," he replied, "They get worse." "Exactly. They get worse because you're pushing them down, which means they'll simply push right back up... until you can't stand the pressure anymore, and out they explode again in unhealthy behaviors, right?" Tom replied with a soft, "Yes."

I gently continued, "OK, Tom. So what's the reality? You have sexual thoughts. OK. It is what it is." Then, repeating something I had explained earlier in my presentation, I added, "You have a right to everything you feel, Tom. Does that mean you have the right to do whatever you want with how you feel? No, of course not. That's probably what landed you in prison. But you do have a right to your thoughts and feelings. And the more you allow yourself to think what you think and feel what you feel, the less intense your thoughts and feelings will be, the more at peace you will feel, and the less likely you will be to hurt yourself or others."

In short, resistance makes it worse - acceptance makes it better.

With an understanding look in his eye, Tom's face softened and he breathed a sigh of relief.

It was time to ask: "Has Confused changed at all since the first drawing?" Tom said he had. "Would you please draw how he appears to you now?"

Here's what Tom drew.

Chris and "Midnite Rider"

14 May 2013 12:15 PM | Anonymous

Staring back at me were the sad, pleading eyes of a lost little boy. They belonged to Chris: a 44-year-old, weathered-faced, square-jawed man with short brown hair and a mustache.

With every fiber of his being, Chris was trying not to cry.

He had drawn himself as a zombie surrounded by faces and hearts. Within each heart were different words: on the left he put his family members' names, while on the right he wrote "Meth & Cocaine", "Power", "Alcohol", "Drugs", "Love", "Sex", "Friends", and "Acceptance". Underneath he had written, "Lonely, Dead Beat Dad, Failure, Nobody Loves Poor Me, Shame Guilt Road".

He summed up his story as "looking for love in all the wrong places". Though married with two girls, his desperate desire for connection had led him to womanizing and drugs. For a brief moment, he would experience it with the women; through dealing drugs, he felt a sense of importance, of having "friends", and of being needed by others.

Chris had repeatedly abandoned his family in favor of these other activities that he believed would bring him peace. But they didn't. Instead, they led to divorce from his wife, estrangement from his children, and another stint in prison just 7 months after the one before.

His sadness and shame were palpable.

Chris then mentioned a crying little boy he felt inside... so I asked him to draw it.

While he was drawing it, one of the other inmates in the room took the opportunity to say to Chris, "Hey, man. There is nothing about you that I can't accept. The good, the bad - it doesn't matter. I accept all of you." The 20 other men in the room nodded in agreement. Chris replied with a soft, emotional, "Thank you."

At that moment, it took every fiber of my being not to cry.

Chris drew "Midnite Rider": a very sad, lonely little boy laying in the dark on his bed in a fetal position. Midnite Rider wished he could be "in a loving relationship as a family with my mom, dad, brother, sister, and a puppy, too!!"

I asked Chris if I could talk to Midnite Rider, and he obliged. Midnite Rider described how his father would yell at him, spank him, and push him away. What he wanted from his mother was to be helped with his homework and held - simple, innocent expressions of connection that a parent can give their child. However, he missed this - he missed out on his childhood and yearned to experience the joys and love that other children feel.

Through listening to Midnite Rider and helping him to feel heard, understood, and cared for, Chris reconnected more deeply with this abandoned part of himself. After our conversation, I asked Chris to draw Midnite Rider as he appeared now. Sure enough, he had transformed into "Daytime Rider", a happy-go-lucky teenager with a huge smile on his face and "Live to Be Happy" written on his belt buckle!

Daytime Rider's hair was long (Chris said he had always wanted long hair), and on his t-shirt was written "Have a Great Day" with a giant smiley face, which Chris explained was painted on the cookie jar in his childhood kitchen. One of the few good memories he had growing up was of grabbing cookies from that cookie jar...

By the end of our session, Chris couldn't help but let out a sweet, grateful smile - happy to have found this new friend within.

Will and Little "Jerry"

27 May 2012 5:12 PM | Anonymous

"I'm confused. I don't understand what this is."

A soft-spoken, 30-something redhead with deep brown eyes, Will appeared anxious and shifty-eyed. A veteran of the war in Afghanistan, he had expressed deep remorse at having taken a life and at being forever labeled as a "murderer".

"May I see what you drew?" I gently asked.

Will held up his paper. He had drawn in brown marker what looked like an apartment door with a number, a peephole, and a mail slot through the middle. Peeking through the mail slot were two little eyes, wide with fear.

I asked him who was peeking out through the mail slot, and he said, "Jerry". Will described Jerry as a terrified little boy who was constantly on the lookout for danger. Jerry's presence within him put Will in a constant state of alert and anxiety - unable to stop analyzing everyone and everything around him for fear that he would get hurt.

Though Will didn't understand why he drew Jerry, I marveled (as I often do) at how the subconscious provides us with such beautiful and clear images to serve as roadmaps for our self-understanding and healing.

Jerry was what I call a "Wounded" - a type of inner character that embodies our pain, fear, and powerlessness. Having spent a great deal of time with other Woundeds like Jerry, I knew that, in order for Will to feel at peace, Jerry would need to feel safe coming out of his hiding place so that he could reconnect with Will. However, this would not be accomplished through coaxing or manipulation but simply through learning more about sweet Jerry, what his fears were, and what would help him feel safe.

During our conversation, Jerry expressed that he was very scared and didn't trust anyone - including me. So I gently spent some time listening to his fears about what might happen to him, how he might get hurt, why he was so scared, etc. During the course of our conversation, as Jerry felt more comfortable, heard, and understood, he slowly revealed himself. First he was behind the apartment door... then he unlocked the door... then he opened the door... until finally Will revealed that Jerry was holding his hand!

More than anything, what our pained, inner emotional characters want is to be noticed, valued, and re-united with us. I knew of one more thing that would "seal this deal" between Will and Jerry. I said to Will, "I think Jerry would really appreciate a hug from you. Would you mind giving him one?"

Will obliged and closed his eyes, imagining himself giving Jerry a hug. Moments later, he slowly opened them and looked at me. The sweetest smile then spread across his face and the softest innocence suddenly glimmered in his eyes.

Within only minutes, this "murderer" had transformed from anxious and shifty-eyed to calm, smiling, and sweet...

From then on, whenever I saw Will, he smiled with a new sparkle in his eye and told me how much better he now felt - simply by reclaiming the sweet little boy within him that so desperately wanted to be loved and heard.

UPDATE: I saw Will again a year later. His eyes are bright and innocent, his smile is sweet, his energy is calm and present. Beautiful to behold.

Stan and "Had"

15 May 2012 12:02 PM | Anonymous

A short, stocky man missing all of his front teeth, Stan looked like someone you would not want to meet in a dark alley... yet he had the composure of one with great clarity, wisdom, and peace.

In a group session of eight inmates, Stan volunteered to show his drawing first. The character he had drawn was looming, menacing, and dark. Broad-shouldered, square-bodied, and muscular with just slits for eyes, "Had" commanded the entire page on which he was drawn.

Stan explained that Had had been with him for many years. Cold, calculating, and violent, Had was a "creeper". When Had showed up, Stan felt him as a pit in his stomach. If someone even looked at Stan the wrong way, Had would flood his mind with thoughts of guns, knives, and ways to kill that person.

It was because of Had that Stan had been in and out of prison for 35 years.

I asked Stan if I could have a conversation with Had, and he obliged. Stan closed his eyes and allowed Had to speak through him.

As the tears flowed down Stan's face, we learned that Had learned to use violence and craftiness during Stan's violent and abusive childhood. There were times when Stan had no choice but to use physical force to protect himself, and Had showed up to "do the dirty work" so that little Stan wouldn't have to.

Had's intentions for Stan were entirely good. He loved Stan and didn't want him to get hurt again. Unfortunately, he had become too good at his job and was perceiving physical attack when none was present, causing Stan to behave in ways of which he was not proud.

It was time for Had to understand that the violence and extreme self-protection wasn't helping Stan anymore but hurting him... and that he could relax now...

After a while, Stan opened his tearful eyes and, with an embarrassed laugh, exclaimed, "I ain't the only crier in this room!" We all laughed with him. (And, sure enough, other men cried during their drawing sessions, too!)

I asked Stan to re-draw Had so that we could see how he appeared now. Had had softened into a friendly guy. Relieved that his job was finally done, Had waved goodbye to Stan once and for all, and Stan felt at peace.

Darren and "Big Brother"

02 May 2012 5:13 PM | Anonymous

"I'm just gonna let you know right now that I'm gonna cry!"

A tough redhead named Darren sat across the table from me, his eyes already red, stinging with tears.

"I'm a big crier!" he continued. "I just want you to know. I cry a lot!" I smiled and told him, "That's wonderful! I think crying is a great thing. It's what our bodies sometimes need to do..."

The sensitivity, humor, and vulnerability of the man sitting before me belied what I learned about his childhood. Raised in a militia family, rage, abuse, and violence were practically served up for breakfast. He said that expressing emotion was cause for a beating.

The eldest of 9 children, Darren had never really had a fun, playful childhood. Instead, he had to put aside his own needs and feelings to take care of his younger siblings - a common theme in these prisoners' life stories. I never learned Darren's reason for being in prison, but he was a "lifer" so my assumption was that he had taken a life.

Prior to this moment, Darren had watched his dear friend and fellow lifer Connor go through the Drawing Out Process®. Connor struggled with an inner "Chameleon" that enabled him to blend into any environment he needed to for his own survival, but it also meant he didn't know who he truly was. During the session, Connor visibly struggled with intense pain and deep emotions but was trying mightily not to cry. Meanwhile, Darren sat across the table from Connor with tears in his eyes, mouthing, "I love you, man... I love you..." - a touching display of support and affection for his struggling friend.

In contrast to Connor, Darren expressed his intense desire to allow himself to feel and show emotion. "I just want to be able to cry myself to sleep," he said, "But I just can't. Something inside me stops it."

He then showed us what he drew: a male stick figure standing in front of a walk-in deep freezer full of giant ice cubes. Each cube of ice had within it an object that represented a different person or memory from his life: his children, his family, anger, etc. For years, "Big Brother" had taken each of these emotional moments and put them in deep freeze for Darren, awaiting the day when he'd be able to deal with them. Big Brother was clearly a protective mechanism stemming from Darren's childhood - when expressing emotion was a threat to his very survival. However, even though Darren knew that he was ready to address his issues and feel the pain, Big Brother was still dutifully taking them from him and locking them in that freezer...

One might assume from the character's name that it was about menace and control, but Darren's "Big Brother" was in fact quite helpful and caring - like a protective older brother who looked out for him. However, Big Brother was doing too good of a job. Darren desperately wanted to be able to cry himself to sleep, but Big Brother wouldn't allow it. It was time for Big Brother to learn that it's okay for Darren to feel and that he didn't need to do his job anymore.

My conversation with Big Brother revealed that his job was exhausting him, and he was relieved to learn that Darren didn't need him to work so hard anymore. By the end of our session, Big Brother had stopped putting everything in the freezer (in fact, the freezer disappeared), and Darren drew a phone booth with the words "Waiting for your call." Big Brother was done taking control of Darren's emotions but reassured Darren that, if he needed him, he was there.

After finishing his drawing, Darren's tears were gone, and his face had softened into the sweetest, most innocent smile...

UPDATE: I saw Darren a year later. Exceptionally creative, artistic, and energetic, he's using his talents to organize large events at the prison! He has also reconnected with his teenage daughter, from whom he'd been estranged for years. I met her, too. She's a sweetheart and so happy to have her dad back.

The Skinhead Who Let Go of "HATE"

15 Apr 2012 5:08 PM | Anonymous

A white, bald, 6'3", brightly blue-eyed man in his 50's with no more than 7 teeth and "S-K-I-N H-E-A-D" tattooed in capitals across his knuckles sat earnestly before me, tears streaming down his face. Beside him sat a chaotic scene he'd drawn. I asked him to tell me about it.

He had titled it, "My Name Is Sadness" and pointed to the masses of giant tears. Within each was a stick figure representing a different family member he had hurt. Carl's sadness was so overwhelming that he simply stared at me and repeated, "I'm just sad. I'm so sad..." Eight of his fellow inmates sat quietly around the table, witnessing this intense outpouring of a "brother's" emotion.

I pointed to another section of the page and asked, "What's that?" An angry, large-headed demon with a swastika on its arm was beating on some of those tears.

"Oh, that's 'HATE'," Carl replied. "He beats on me and makes me judge and hate others. I hate it when he does that! But I can't stop!"

So began my one-on-one with an inmate at a state prison in Ohio. For three days, I was invited to take the men through the Drawing Out Process®, an emotional healing technique I created out of my own struggles with depression, fear, and self-loathing. This was my first time ever to set foot in a prison, and most of the men I was working with had committed violent crimes - many of them in there for murder, sentenced to life.

Carl's nickname, I learned, was "Fingers" because he was so expressive with his massive hands - hands that, no doubt, had committed their share of violence. He admitted that, aside from his knuckles, his chest was also covered in racist tattoos. This embarrassed him, and he wished he could have them removed.

I knew Carl wasn't ready for me to have a conversation with HATE, and I knew that talking to HATE could be a dangerous endeavor. So I asked if I could have a conversation with "Sadness" instead. Carl obliged.

Sadness and I discussed his family members, his abuse of crystal meth (the reason for the missing teeth), and how much he regretted having hurt so many people over the years. After a few minutes of exploring Sadness' side of the story, however, I knew that it would not disappear until HATE stopped the beatings. I had to talk to HATE.

I switched from my soft, compassionate voice into a more challenging one, "You know what? I wanna talk to HATE. HATE, where are you? I wanna talk to you!" Carl sat back with a terrified look in his eyes. "Oh no," he said, "I don't think I can do that." I said, "Well, look, Sadness isn't gonna go away unless I talk to HATE. So, HATE, I wanna talk to you! C'mon - talk to me!"

Carl sat back and took some deep, scared breaths, weighing whether or not to engage. Suddenly his eyes widened and he lunged forward at me in his seat, yelling, "I don't need any of this shit! This is all bullshit - all this stuff!" He flung his hands around, gesturing to me and his fellow inmates. "I ain't goin' nowhere! You're not gonna get rid of me! I'm staying right here!"

HATE was now speaking, referring to the fact that he'd seen other inmates' inner characters disappear as a result of having just gone through the Process. HATE refused to suffer the same fate.

I said, "That's fine, HATE. I don't wanna make you go away - I wanna talk to you!" My tone was much more confrontational than I normally use with a person's inner character, but I knew that's what it would take to get HATE to respond.

Meanwhile, I heard whisperings behind me. I later learned that Derek, my escort at the prison, a Drawing Out Process client, and the man responsible for bringing me in to help these guys, was telling the other inmates around us, "Keep your eyes on Carl. If he goes after her, stop him." Derek was concerned that HATE (through Carl) would lash out at me for challenging his worldview. Though my heart was pounding a bit harder now, I wasn't too concerned for my safety. Nevertheless, I was grateful to learn they all had my back... just in case.

I asked HATE when he first showed up, and he explained that, in 1985, Carl's grandmother had been beaten and killed by two black men. Soon after, his niece had been violated as well. Since then, he had harbored a rage so violent that it caused him to be viciously prejudiced toward blacks, become addicted to and manufacture crystal meth, and landed him in jail. He admitted that, for 30 years, he had never even touched a black man. Meanwhile, two of his fellow black inmates were sitting across the table from us, witnessing this exchange.

HATE told me how sad and angry he was when his grandmother and niece were hurt and killed. I empathized with him, saying, "Hey, I don't blame you, HATE. I'd be angry, too, if someone did that to my family!" HATE seemed rather confused that I agreed with him but appreciated feeling understood.

I asked HATE what he thought of Carl. He told me he was angry at Carl. "I wish he'd quit being so sad and be a man! Be strong! I hate it when he's sad!" I replied, "Yeah, it hurts to feel sad, doesn't it? Sadness feels weak, but anger feels strong, right?" HATE continued, "Yeah! I'm angry because I'm sad!"

With that, HATE's eyes suddenly widened in a powerful epiphany, and he repeated what he had just said: "Yeah. I'm angry... because I'm sad!" HATE repeated this a few more times, allowing it to sink in even further. He had unwittingly landed on the root of all those years of rage. "I'm angry because I'm sad..."

I asked HATE how it felt to carry all of that anger for so many years. "Exhausting!" HATE proclaimed. "I'm tired!" I knew I was on track to help HATE fully let go of his long-standing beliefs and emotions. I could now take him through the final steps of the Drawing Out Process®.

After going through those final steps, I asked HATE, "So, HATE, you understand now that Carl doesn't want you to do any of that stuff any more, right?" Calmly and almost sweetly, HATE looked at me with clarity and determination and said, "Yes. I'm done. I'm not gonna hate anybody or do any of that stuff anymore. I promise."

With that, Carl broke into the biggest, most exuberant smile - his bright blue eyes sparkling with light! I said, "What are you seeing right now, Carl?" And he said, "HATE is waving goodbye!" We smiled at each other and at the wonderful transformation he'd just experienced - 37 years of rage and prejudice dissolved in only 20 minutes.

Carl then added, "Emily, I want you to know that I missed getting my pills just to go through this with you... and you know what? This is better than a pill!"

With that, all of the other inmates fell into laughter! They clapped and congratulated Carl for the emotional journey he had just taken - out of the darkness of grief and rage, back into the light of his own truth and peace.

UPDATE: I saw Carl one year later. His energy is so kind and soft, and the light that emanates from him is gorgeous! He's holding a loving space and presence for the other men going through the Horizon program and proudly told me, "Emily, I tell everyone about you! I'm your spokesperson!" Oh - and he now has teeth!