I was struggling to write this column. After 2-3 years of writing about stress I was feeling like I was running out of ideas. How many ways can I spin stress management?  So I got thinking about what I've learned from my clients about facing life and dealing with stress. Mostly I've learned about the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity.  I thought I'd share a little of that with you.

I've seen a lot of things in my 17+ years of doing psychotherapy.  I've seen tremendously strong people come into my office thinking they are weak because they do not always have a grip on their emotions. I've seen smiling people dissolve into a puddle of hidden grief no one would suspect. I've seen competent people make poor choices that derail a successful career or marriage. I've seen analytical people hamstrung by anxiety that they cannot think themselves out of.  I've seen people in intense emotional pain wonder if they really need therapy.  I've seen people struggling with chronic illness, chronic depression, chronic anxiety, and chronic abuse struggle with feelings of helplessness and hopelessness.  I've seen families wrecked by the tragedy of suicide.  I've seen marriages teetering on the brink of dissolution because of violence, betrayal, immaturity or just plain indifference.  In short, I've seen people who were so defeated by life that they didn't think they would ever see another happy day.

By the time people get to my doorstep, they are sometimes so full of despair that hope seems like a painfully distant wish. They are at the end of what they know to do, even if they've read all the self-help books in the world. I've seen young people come in with a long list of medications that they are taking to help them manage their emotional problems....to know avail. I frankly wonder how they are able to stay awake and function at all.  I see people who believe they are trapped in unfulfilling jobs, marriages and lives.  I've seen people who are so afraid of other people that they haven't had a date or an intimate relationship.....ever.  I've heard stories of how people were abused, beaten, raped and sometimes left for dead by the very people that were supposed to love and care for them. I've heard cries of anguish, gasping sobs of unbearable grief, and shrieks of terror that lie hidden beneath the social facades we present to the world.

My clients will often ask me, how do I sit day after day, year after year listening to such depressing stories and not go home depressed myself.  Well, I'll tell you this:  I am in awe of my clients. Yes, I think, no wait....I KNOW that the people who come for help are the most courageous people I've ever had the privilege to know.  Within the confines of my office, I've heard the worst stories of what one human being can do to another from the survivors, who still wonder if they  "made it all up." 

Yes, I want to help people who are in pain, but first I want to RESPECT their pain and what they had to do to survive emotionally and sometimes physically. By respecting their pain, what I mean is that I take it very seriously.  I don't care if their pain is the emotional equivalent of a hang nail or a crucifixion, it is pain and it is theirs to deal with.  Pain is pain. In this, size doesn't matter. 

Second, I know from my experience of being with clients who struggle courageously to come to terms with what life has given them, that hope is not only possible, but it's a certainty.  I don't GIVE my clients hope or strength to face the challenges they wrestle with.  I watch and listen while they FIND it within themselves, within their story, and within their struggle.  Without a doubt, any person who looks within and who dives deeply enough into what seems like intractable pain will find the source of their hope within themselves.   

I've seen this so many times, I look forward to it.  I can't really predict when it will happen or what will trigger it. I just know it will come.  Sometimes I see it dawning; sometimes it's a complete surprise.  However it comes, it feels like....grace.  Like that person has been moved by something larger than their pain, their woundedness, larger than their personal history and larger than their conscious resources.  When that day comes, there's still work to be done, but a corner has been turned.  Things start to change gradually or suddenly.  What I first notice is my clients start discussing their choices in terms of "the old me" vs. "the new me."  Certainly something new has been born and just like a baby, it doesn't get up and run marathons the first day. It has to learn to creep, crawl, and toddle before it walks, but at least it's moving...moving towards the light of hope.