Sam was a young man of 20. Handsome, friendly, articulate, bright and capable. Everyone could see this. Everyone, that is, except Sam.
He saw himself as dull, boring, lazy and unmotivated. He had stopped going out with his friends, he’d stopped all of his sporting activities. He rarely left his room, preferring to watch videos or play the occasional video game with strangers. His sleep pattern was really mixed up and he looked run down.
His friends had stopped calling and his parents had no idea what to do. They were worried and were about to talk to their GP as they felt Sam was possibly depressed and that scared them.
I was asked to have a chat with Sam to see if I could help. We scheduled a zoom call and Sam was there on time. We started chatting and almost immediately Sam started to cry. And cry. And cry.
He also talked. About his disappointment with himself, the shame and embarrassment for being weak, the guilt that he felt because everyone was so worried and the fear that he might never get back on track.
My job here was to listen and make sure that Sam felt heard and understood. It wasn’t hard to do that.
Sam continued to cry and talk for his next few appointments. If I said anything it was to tell Sam how brave I thought he was, how articulate and respectful he was. I pointed to the health of Sam, rather than what seemed not to be working.
During the third session Sam took a deep breath and said “I think I’m done with crying. Can we talk about the future?”
That was music to my ears!
Over the next three months Sam got back on track. He became motivated, hopeful and excited for the future. He decided to get healthy and changed his sleeping pattern and his diet. He spent more time out of his room.
He left the house to meet a friend for coffee and the world didn’t fall apart. That was a big deal and led to more social outings.
He told some friends what he had been going through and again the world didn’t fall apart. That was also a big deal and led to deeper connections, including Sam becoming the listener to friends who were going through similar experiences.
He took up sport again and soon was hardly ever in the house. His parents were delighted. They had their Sam back.
Sam and I recently had a catch up. He was doing so well. In a job that he loved, had a gorgeous girlfriend and was looking to move out into his own place.
We talked about what had happened and what might have been the cause of Sam’s struggles. There were no particular events that Sam could recall, just a series of events that led to his feeling so low – a relationship break up, a moped accident, a job that was really hard, too much partying, too little sleep etc etc.
And at the time Sam just shrugged and carried on, not allowing himself to feel anything. ‘Doing the man thing’, as he called it.
I asked him what he did with disappointment and upset these days. “I cry like a baby” Sam laughed.
“And it’s great. I may be a six foot rugby player but I still have emotions that need to be let out sometimes! My mates think I’m a big softie and I’m fine with that.”
