March 2004
Turning the Corner
Featured Writer: R. Cotton Fite,Ph.D.,

My colleague’s husband struggled for several weeks with influenza that had turned into a serious case of pneumonia. She commented one day that he was finally “turning the corner”. She meant, of course, that he was feeling better and that the worst seemed to be over. They felt “out of danger”.

A client had struggled for years with an anxiety disorder. At the beginning of a session she announced with obvious delight that her dutiful practice of anxiety management techniques had actually worked in a situation which formerly would have incapacitated her. “I think I’m turning the corner on this beast!” she exclaimed.

A couple had fought viciously in a therapy session. They told me at our next meeting that their embarrassment at how nasty they had been to each other convinced them they both must change. And they did.

As my colleagues can attest, I am addicted to carbohydrates. If I eat one cookie, I am likely to eat the rest of the box. On the basis of some nutritional research and the example of my physician niece, I recently adopted a modified diet which has greatly helped reduce my craving. I’m not sure I’ve turned the corner on my addiction, but I do have a hopeful new way of managing it.

“Turning the corner” obviously does not mean total victory. My colleague’s husband had more illness to suffer. My client was not through battling her anxiety, and my couple had more fights, albeit less destructive ones. I will have to manage my diet for the rest of my life. But in each case there was more hope. We had a new tool, a new understanding and we were no longer merely the victims of whatever plagued us.

As a clinician, I want to help my clients turn the corner on whatever is diminishing their lives. My colleague’s and my clients’ comments led me to wonder about the components that make it possible for someone to gain new mastery over their particular problem. As I thought about my clients, my friends and family, and myself I realized that turning the corner is probably more a process than a single event. It signifies a significant change and a new hopefulness, but in retrospect it is usually one of many important turning points.

Through my experience with the HOLD support group, I learned a lot about grieving. Healing Our Lost Dreams is a support group for parents who have lost an infant, one of the most devastating losses anyone can experience. Grief is made up of many components, and as any of these parents will tell you, it’s hard work. There are times when you must allow the pain to be present, times to focus on something else. There are exercises of rage and forgiveness and acceptance to perform, rituals of remembrance to repeat. Occasionally a parent would say to the group, “You know, I feel like I’ve turned a corner. I don’t how or why.” Sometimes there is no reason; healing, like grace, is a gift. But often the group would remind the parent of all the hard work they had done, all the struggles they had faced, all the love they had shared.

Those who know me know I am a person who stutters. I’m relatively fluent now but as a child I had a truly terrible time talking to anyone but my dog who didn’t care whether I made any sense or not. As a young adult I did a year of speech therapy with a wonderful man who was a pioneer in the field. It was with him that I turned my first corner. He encouraged me to face my disorder, to become intimately familiar with it rather than deny and flee from it, a common practice of stutterers. My assignment one day was to practice stuttering on words beginning with “m” with everyone I met on the street. I was to collect 500 such experiences! At the end of the day, I knew every possible variation of ways to stutter on “m” words and, if I chose, I could say the word fluently as well. It was a turning point, and I still remember the elation I felt at the mastery I had achieved. I had a lot of work left to do, but what I learned that day was that facing my worst fears would not kill me and just might heal me. I also learned that the discipline of doing my homework pays off.

Friends and clients who have struggled with alcoholism and are in recovery tell me there were moments when they knew they had turned the corner on their denial, when they knew their life had to be different. Usually, another person who loved them was involved. Other times it was the simple but painful realization they were destroying their life. They also tell me they know they can not become complacent, committing themselves to a lifetime of recovery, one day at a time. Some disorders like alcoholism are insidious; they never leave us alone, and they must be managed the rest of our lives. Rather than being a burden to resent, however, people in recovery suggest, at least some of the time, it is a gift for which they are grateful.

What makes the difference? What contributes to our turning the corner? Certainly no one thing. Frequently, though, it involves a deeper understanding and acceptance of ourselves, the support of others who love us, and the willingness to practice a new or different behavior. Sometimes it comes after lots of anguish and hard work, sometimes after surprisingly little. In either case, hope ushers in a profound sense of gratitude.

Featured Writer:
R. Cotton Fite, Ph.D. Dr. Fite is a senior staff member and former Director of The Counseling Center of Lutheran General Hospital. He is a Licensed Clinical Psychologist, an AAPC Diplomate and an Episcopal priest.

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