I received an email one day from a gentleman I will call “Phillip”. And I am sharing his story here with his permission hoping it will help someone else too.
He said he suffered from extremes of anxiety and depression, had frequent crying spells, and he seemed to have no willpower or self-control when it came to bringing himself to do basic things in life like keeping his apartment clean, his composure at his job, or even eating healthy. He said he knew he needed help, but nothing had helped him for the long term. He always regressed. And he didn’t know what else to try. What touched my heart deeply were his last two sentences to me: Would it be possible for you to help me? Or am I beyond hope?
My heart went out to him. Not because I felt sorry for him. But because I knew how much he wanted to work at this and feel better. I knew he was committed to doing what was needed. I knew he had hit rock bottom.
Something magical happens when we hit rock bottom, doesn’t it? And I knew that I had to work with him.
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