How to Save a Life

A few years ago a client told me that I saved his life.  Well, he didn't tell me directly.  He told my colleague when he was drunk at a gala. But he told her to tell me.  Although I'm not sure he remembers doing so.  Still, I was humbled by this.  I knew therapy was important to him, but I didn't think his life was in danger.  But then again, even when clients are in therapy, they don't always tell you the full story.

Once I had to cancel a session with this client and he stopped coming in for about a month.  Apparently he got depressed because he felt like I had abandoned him.  A professor contacted him because he had also stopped going to class.  When he came back to therapy, he told me that his professor saved his life.  That was the first time I really understood how much therapy means to some clients, even when they say they're not sure they want to be there. 

Last week I went to a threat assessment training, and the first case that the presenter discussed was a student who had to go to the police department because she told her roommate she was suicidal.  While she was there, she asked for a piece of paper and a pen.  She drew what appeared to be a bunch of random doodles.  But later when they looked at the drawing, they saw that she had embedded the word help three times.

This, too, reminded me that people may say they don't want help but their actions tell you otherwise.

Before I started blogging, I thought blogs were just another example of our narcissistic culture in that journaling, which is supposed to be a private experience, was turned into something that you shared with the world and everyone was free to comment.   But now I realize that blogs can be a way for people who have never had a voice to connect with people like themselves.

My favorite blog is by Nelly N.  She writes passionately and honestly about her struggles with obsessive-compulsive disorder, among other things.  She shares her most painful experiences so that other people who suffer in silence will realize that they are not alone.  And it works.

A few days ago the student group that I advise had their annual eating disorder panel.  It consists of students in recovery who are brave enough to share their story.  On our campus, people with eating disorders are blamed and judged more harshly than any other disorder.  Not surprisingly, no one wants to admit to having one publicly.

Every year, at least one student seeks treatment after attending the panel.  And the next year, those students volunteer to speak on the panel so that they can help someone else who is alone with their eating disorder.  Sometimes they use the opportunity to speak as motivation to get better.

We don't have to be able to leap tall buildings to save someone's life.  Sometimes heroes are ordinary people who take action when someone needs help.