Transitions Counseling and Consulting

When I first arrived at Algamus, I was in one of the lowest points of my life. I didn’t know if I could ever beat gambling—it felt like it had complete control over me. I wasn’t sure if change was even possible. But after completing the 35-day program, I can confidently say I walked out a completely different person: stronger, healthier, and more at peace with myself than I’ve ever been. Most importantly, I've remained gamble-free. The professionals on staff are top notch. Stephanie, the psychiatrist, was absolutely incredible—she has a way of teaching that makes everything click, and her lessons still guide me every day. Anthony brought this calm wisdom to his group sessions, and his quotes and insights stuck with me in a way I’ll never forget. Terrence’s sessions were eye-opening and gave me practical tools that I could immediately apply. And then there’s Doug, the house manager. Having been through his own battles, he understood me on a level no one else could. He went out of his way to make sure I was supported whenever I needed it. On top of that, I met people here that I’ll consider friends for life—others who had been in the same position I was in. That sense of connection and community in recovery is priceless. If it weren’t for Algamus, I honestly don’t know where I would be right now. Since finishing the program, I haven’t had a single urge to gamble—not one. That in itself feels like a miracle. Algamus didn’t just help me stop gambling; it gave me back my life, my confidence, and my future. I am beyond grateful for this program and everyone involved. If you’re struggling and wondering if it can work for you, take it from me: it works. Algamus changes lives.

My initial consultation with Dr. Caleb Reid was not only unproductive—it was deeply triggering. As someone seeking mental health support, I came into the session ready to engage genuinely and openly. However, when I began answering basic questions, Dr Reid abruptly stopped me to say he didn’t think I was being “professional.” I was stunned. I asked what exactly he meant, and he replied: my tone. Let me be clear—I was calm, respectful, and simply responding to his questions in a way that I genuinely felt was authentic and truthful. If my tone reflected any emotional weight, it's because the questions were triggering, and I was doing my best to be honest—something I thought was not only allowed but appropriate in a mental health setting. Not one of my responses had anything to do with Dr. Reid personally. Instead, his response showed a disturbing lack of empathy and an inability to hold space without personalizing the interaction. When I pointed out that I wasn’t being paid to be professional and was instead a client looking for help, I was met with what felt like deflection- He told me since it was the initial consultation, he wasnt getting paid yet either. The interaction left me feeling invalidated and more distressed than before the session. No one is perfect, Mental health professionals are no exception, maybe he was having a bad day? I wish there were a way for mental health practicioners to have the ability to help patients navigate their emotions and most definitely not shame them for how they show up in moments of vulnerability. For whatever reason, Dr. Reid projected his discomfort onto me. Maybe this works for some patients. I would strongly caution others seeking compassionate mental health support to look elsewhere.