Over the many years of my doing therapy, there are some times that a peculiar thing happens in some sessions, and it’s almost always a turning point for the client.  A client and I will be talking in session, and he or she will go on and tell me about some events or circumstances or people in their lives that are causing them a lot of distress or problems.  They’ll talk and talk, sometimes cry, and sometimes become outraged as they relate to me the things that have caused them so much pain in their lives.  I sit and I listen and I process what’s going on with them now, as well as process and piece together what has happened to them in their pasts.  They continue to talk until they’ve finished their story or until they’ve gotten to that point in which they pause and wait for me to give them “the answer,” to tell them that remedy that’s going solve their problem, ease their pain or, at the very least, give them crystal-clear insight and understanding about their lives or their problems.

When they get to that point and wait for “the answer,” most of the time I have something for them.  Most of the time, I can help them gain some insight into what’s happened to them, why they did what they did, and why they feel the way they feel.  Most of the time, I can give them my perspective and learned opinion on what they might try and what they can do to help resolve the issue, get things back on track in their lives, or equip them to deal with their problems more successfully.  Most of the time, I can do these things for the client.  I can do this most of the time, but not all of the time.  There are times when I don’t know what to do.  There are times when I don’t have “the answer,” when I can shed light on what’s going on, and when I can’t help them understand things any better than they did before they walked into my office.  There are times when I don’t know what to do to help them.  So, what do I do when I, as their doctor, as their expert, as their hope, do when I don’t know what to do?  I tell them.  I tell them that I don’t know what to do.  I’m extremely honest about it with them.  My response usually goes something like this after they’ve told me their story and their waiting for my “ultimate wisdom:”

            Me:      “Wow, that’s a lot of issues.  I can see why you’re feeling so overwhelmed by it.”

            Client:  “Thanks, so what should I do about it?”

            Me:      “I have no idea.”

            Client:  “What?  You have no idea?”
            Me:      “Yeah, I have no idea what you should do.”

            Client:  “What do you mean you have no idea what I should do?  You’re the psychologist!”

At this point, some clients kind of wait me out, to see if what I’m saying is some kind of “psychological trick” or something just to see what their reaction is going to be.  Or, they think it’s some therapeutic technique that I’m using to get them to come up with some magical answer.  Really, it’s neither.  I just don’t know.  It’s about at that point that they start to look like all is lost.  Then, I respond:

Me:      “No, I’m not kidding.  I really don’t know what to do for you.  I really don’t know what to tell you.  You have been through a heck of a lot, more trouble and stress than most people will ever see.  I can see why you’re feeling overwhelmed, why you can’t concentrate half the time and why you’re crying your eyes out the other half of the time.  You’ve been through hell and I don’t know what to say or do at this point to help you.  But, here’s the thing:  you definitely don’t know what to do to help yourself, and I just told you that I have no idea what to do to help you, but you know what, let’s sit here and see if we can figure something out, come up with something that at least might be a starting point.”

It’s at this point that things change.  It’s at this point that the client stops looking helpless and starts looking hopeful.  So, we sit there and we start to talk it out.  No idea is condemned right away.  We put pretty much any and everything on the table and reason each of them out before we decide whether it’s something that will be realistic to try, something that’s likely to be effective or something that can be harmful or counterproductive.  We sit and we think and we talk.  I don’t think that there’s been a time in over 20 years of doing therapy that a client and I haven’t been able to come up with at least a little something as a starting point.  I think in pretty much all the cases, the client has felt better when they left the session.

I believe that there are some reasons why acknowledging that you don’t know what to do, when you actually don’t know what to do, is helpful.  The first thing that I’ve noticed when I’ve told clients that I don’t know what to do to help them is that look of shock and panic that spreads across their faces when they realize that I’m being honest about being clueless in this situation, that’s it’s not some kind of trick or technique.  They’re horrified that they came to an expert and that the expert doesn’t know what to do either.  They usually feel pretty hopeless and helpless.  But here’s what my admission to them does.  It helps them to understand that there are some times in one’s life that one simply doesn’t know what to do about a given issue or circumstance.  There are times when even an expert is going to be at a loss for what to do.  It helps them to understand that it’s okay that sometimes they’re going to be at a loss for answers and solutions, and that it’s okay to feel how you feel about that.  But other things also happen as a result of my admission.  Please note that, even though I told them that I don’t know what to do to help them, I didn’t panic about it, and I didn’t tell them that things were hopeless or impossible.  After the admission of not knowing what to do, we simply sit with our feelings about it for a minute and catch our breaths.  Then, I let them know that, even though we don’t know what to do at the moment, let’s sit here and try to think and come up with some possibilities.  This is extremely helpful.  Being able to brainstorm and think out loud and run things past someone is helpful, and it’s the most helpful to do with someone who isn’t going to criticize everything that comes out, criticizes the person or shoots everything down.  We talk, and we sort, and we move on to the next possibility.  The act of going from one possible course of action to the next, in and of itself, shows the client that there are possibilities when, just a short while ago, he or she did not perceive there to be any at all.  I believe that clients feel better by the end of the session because, in their time of dire need, the person they came to for help did not leave them.  It almost didn’t matter that I didn’t know what to do to help, but I stayed there with them while they were in their distress, and I told them that together we might be able to figure something out.  It often helps people feel better when they’re not alone in their distress, and when they’re helped to feel like they can do something to help themselves.

Partners need to be exactly that: partners.  There will be times when one of you is down and the other is up, and times when you’re both down.  That’s okay, it’s normal for things to shift like that.  Some of the things that help are for each partner to realize that sometimes you won’t know what to do to make a situation better, that sometimes you have to create an atmosphere where it’s safe to admit that you don’t know what to do, that you don’t abandon each other just because of the distress of the situation or the stress of not knowing what to do, that there is an atmosphere of safety for brainstorming to take place, and that things can, and often do, get better, even when it feels like things are absolutely hopeless.  Here’s another important point: in many of my sessions, clients have left it up to me to figure out and give them “the answer.”  The thing is, there usually isn’t “the” answer or even “an” answer.  It’s been my experience that, in many of these situations, problems are addressed or resolved by the client trying a number of different things.  I don’t help them to come up with “the answer,” but I help them develop “some answers” or some ways of doing things that might add up to the outcome that they’re hoping for.  Trying to come up with one great and glorious solution to a problem puts a lot of pressure on the person to find that elusive and perfect answer.  But helping them to see that they can develop some tools and techniques and methods that they can pull out, mix and match, and use whenever problems come up is usually more effective and helps them to feel empowered instead of powerless and helpless.

Interested in learning more? The following courses are recommended at Don't Date A Psycho University:

"Working Through Your Relationship Problems"

"Stop Talking and Start Communicating!"

"I'm Always Right and You're Always Wrong!"

"When Things are Not What You Thought They Would Be"