At What Point Do I, As The Therapist, Become Part of the Problem?
Thirty years I’ve sat in this chair, listened, empathized, and tried to guide people out of the labyrinth of addiction. Thirty years of striving for unconditional positive regard, empathy, and congruence. But lately, a nagging question has been echoing in my mind: at what point do I, the supposed guide, become part of the very problem I’m trying to solve?
We, as therapists, are taught to be the safe harbor, the non-judgmental ear. We create a space where clients can unravel their deepest fears and vulnerabilities. But what happens when that space becomes a comfortable cage, a place where they can confess their struggles without facing the real-world consequences?
The core condition of congruence, that cornerstone of therapeutic practice, tells me that I have a responsibility to be honest, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s about acknowledging the elephant in the room. And in the realm of addiction, that elephant often takes the form of isolation and secrecy.
I’ve learned, through countless sessions and heartbreaking stories, that recovery begins with vulnerability. It begins with telling the people we love, the people we’ve hurt, the truth about our struggles. It’s about breaking down the walls of denial and admitting, “I’m in the shit.”
But what if my client, sitting across from me, confesses their awareness of their addiction, yet vehemently refuses to share it with their family, their partner, their closest friends? What if I become the sole recipient of their truth, the keeper of their secret?
That’s when the uncomfortable truth dawns on me: I’m enabling them. I’m becoming a part of the problem.
By allowing them to confine their struggle to the therapy room, I’m inadvertently reinforcing their isolation. I’m providing a safe space for them to avoid the difficult conversations, the necessary confrontations, the essential steps towards real recovery.
It’s a delicate balance, this therapeutic relationship. We strive to create a safe space, but we must also challenge our clients to step outside of it. We must encourage them to extend their vulnerability beyond the confines of our office, into the messy, complicated world where true healing takes place.
It’s not about judgment or blame. It’s about recognizing the insidious nature of addiction, how it thrives in secrecy and isolation. And it’s about acknowledging my own role in perpetuating that cycle.
I’ve learned that sometimes, the most compassionate thing I can do is to challenge my clients, to push them beyond their comfort zones. To remind them that true recovery requires them to step out of the shadows and into the light.
It’s not easy. It requires courage, from both the client and the therapist. But it’s the only way to break free from the chains of addiction.
This journey has taught me that being a therapist isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being honest, about acknowledging my own limitations and blind spots. It’s about constantly questioning my role and ensuring that I’m truly serving my clients’ best interests.
And sometimes, that means admitting that I, too, can be part of the problem. And then, working to be part of the solution.
If you are struggling with addiction and want a therapist that will lovingly challenge to best your addiction then contact me at
victoriaabadi66@victoria-abadi