You’ve tried — with your friend, your spouse, your adult child. You made the case for counseling. Some hem, some haw, some say they will, but don’t. Others just refuse.

Why?

A few reasons to consider and what you might do about it:

• Stranger danger. Suspicion of strangers is deeply rooted in the human race, derived from our primitive beginnings and ever-present con-artists. Your friend’s personal experience of betrayal may be a key factor.
• Saving face. Much in life depends on reputation. How many of our parents admonished us to hide the family secrets and “be sure you don’t tell the neighbors!” Men, in particular, want to project strength, the better to succeed in the world of work and win a desirable spouse.
• The doctor doesn’t care. He is only in it for the money and measures his patients’ value by the size of their bankroll. Should counselors then give treatment away and make their living after hours by standing on street corners with hat in hand?
• I’m afraid my employer will find out. I can’t risk it. If you use insurance, the insurer will know your diagnosis, as will every such company in the linked system. They are not supposed to reveal anything to your employer. However, if you work for someone with few employees and his premiums go up the next year … ?
• Therapy is for the weak, a crutch for the spineless. A therapist argues instead that facing your demons and working to change are signs of strength, not evidence of frailty: an indication of courage, not its absence.
• I don’t believe in the value of looking back. Sometimes therapy doesn’t require it, but a historical evaluation can remove the bolder from your backpack and allow you to move ahead with pace. On the other hand, baseball’s Satchel Paige said, “Don’t look back, something might be gaining on you!”
• Emotional pain. Whatever reasons are given, the prospective client can be unconsciously timorous at opening painful issues — digging up a grave bursting with undead horrors of the heart and memory.
• I’m a logical person, not into feelings. I can solve this logically. Such statements are uttered most often by those who aren’t as logical as they think.
• A real man does things, he doesn’t talk about them. But what if he doesn’t know what to do after trying everything?
• Fear of change. Most of us find discomfort in new challenges, in or out of treatment. Yet change can’t be avoided unless you want to wear the same clothes in the same size and color the rest of your life; and continue to travel to the same job site even after your employer bars the door.
• Fear of the mystery. The counseling office is a bit like the inner sanctum of a haunted house — a place of strange rites and secrets, incense and shadow play, frequented by the ghost of Sigmund Freud. The person who wants control will find few guideposts. Will a wizard cast a magic spell on him?
• Fear of medication or hospitalization. Though you can’t be forced to take meds as a rule, some are terrified they might hear the doctor recommend it — or worse, a hospital stay.

What’s to be done? I received calls from spouses who wanted to make an appointment for their mate. This is rarely useful. If the individual lacks the courage or motivation to seek treatment himself, the likelihood of his appearance at the appointment is a coin flip at best.

Begging and pleading have their limits, too. The more you push, the more therapy becomes your agenda, not the person you care about. You own it, he doesn’t want to buy it. The more you pester or threaten, the faster he runs. If he does attend a session, his motive is to placate you, not heal himself.

Sometimes it helps to enlist the persuasive talents of one who is respected by the prospective patient: a clergyman, best friend, or close relative. The danger here, however, is an unauthorized revelation to a third-party interpreted as a breach of trust. A similar risk occurs when you plan an “intervention:” getting several friends and family members together to encourage and explain their concern to the doubtful potential client. This technique is more often used with alcohol and drug abuse problems, and is easier to rationalize when the person’s life is out of control and in danger.

I am not speaking here of people who are at risk of harming themselves or others. Thus, legal remedies to force the issue are not available. If your steady expression of loving concern cannot turn the tide, waiting might be the only alternative. The accumulation of pain perhaps will do what you can’t.

You are left in a difficult situation: straining your patience when everything in you wants to scream.

Most of us spend a good part of our lives wishing others were different: more loving, kinder, attentive to us in a way rarely offered; with an intensity and compassion that finally permits the auditor to “get us.” We want the love of this one, the respect of that one, and wish another would take our words to heart. We think and plot about attracting the dark stranger, selling the human product (ourselves), and winning the vote of the crowd.

The good news here is the presence of one person we tend to ignore. While we work on others to change, he remains in the shadows. We don’t need to run after him, persuade him, make an appointment to meet six weeks in advance, and cause his face to turn in our direction. His visage greets us in the mirror every morning.

When others resist our efforts to influence them we are left to change what we can about ourselves — what we may and what we must: our attitude, emotions, and reactions to the one who refuses treatment — and to the rest of life as well.  The transformation begins whenever we want. The process of self-modification can persist as long as we live. Unlike changing the loved one, however, the necessary alterations are in our hands.

The most important opportunities in life sometimes have been there all along. We wait for the other to wake up while what is changeable in ourselves awaits its own awakening. Imagine standing at a crossroads: one path leads to a darkling state of perpetual hope or desperate preoccupation with a person you can’t control. You pass the time alternately gnashing your teeth or imagining what life might be like if only he changes. The other road directs you to a house of natural light and mirrors revealing all sides of the one human you do control. This workshop evokes the hard work of the master sculptor in everyone, the painstaking job of reshaping our basic stuff.

Become your own work of art.

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The second image is a Ladies Watch Case photographed by Zeigerpaar and sourced from Wikimedia Commons. The bottom photo comes from the Bristol RA Gallery Festival of Stone Sculpture.