I'm an attorney, as noted in my profile.  I sent a letter to the magazine published by the state bar association about my experiences as a lawyer with depression.  (I'm copying the letter after this blog, it's kinda long).  I had to ask that it be published anonymously, not only for my own professional protection but because I'm restrained by a settlement agreement from disclosing certain facts. 

This is part of the response I got:

"IThanks for your interest in submitting your story to the Georgia Bar Journal. At this time, we do not print “anonymous” letters. Also, we aren’t comfortable with any references to your previous employer, even though they were never named.
 
If you would like to submit another article about depression and how you’ve dealt with it without going into the issues you’ve had with your previous employer, I think it would be great. I am all for getting more information out to our members. I see that you noted our Lawyers Assistance Program in your letter, and that program does help members who are dealing with mental issues. I see that we need to promote those services more!
 
If you want to talk more about a general article on depression, I’d be happy to.
 
Thanks for sharing your story with us."

The main point of the letter I submitted was that I'd been fired *twice* for depression, and that our profession needs to treat its members with mental illness with greater compassion and understanding, but apparently I'm not allowed to go into that.

Sigh.  Seems like every time I try to get a little understanding, I get slapped back.  It's getting a bit exhausting.

Anyway, here's the original letter I sent in for publication:

******

The email did not come as a complete shock.  I’d actually told my therapist it was a probable outcome.  Nevertheless, I had to try very hard to keep from hyperventilating when I approached the managing partner’s office.

Once I was seated, he wasted no time.  “You’ve been asking questions about your insurance coverage.  I want to know why.”

Part of me could not believe he was asking me this.  The firm did employment law, and what he was asking was blatantly unlawful.  The rest of me saw it coming and had debated how to handle it.  I could lie and just avoid the situation, but that wouldn’t help me get better.  I could tell the truth, and potentially lose my job.  I decided I couldn’t be indicted for honesty and just laid it out for him.

I told him I was suffering from depression, stemming partly from my brother’s death from cancer the year before, my mother’s suicide attempt barely two moths after that, and my divorce six months later.  I told him my therapist thought I might need more intensive therapy and was asking questions to find out what was covered. 

I was sent back to my office, and less than twenty minutes later I received an email advising me that I was on probation for “unsatisfactory job performance.” Before this email, I’d received nothing but positive reviews, and even got a raise less than three months before.  The email was, to say the least, vague about the terms of my probation, so I sent a response, asking what the timeframe was, what specific improvements the firm expected from me, and how I could best meet those expectations.

The response:  “You’re a lawyer, figure it out.  We’re trying to save your job.”

After two months of putting me through hell, the firm finally manufactured an excuse to fire me.

Sadly, this is how much of our profession treats mental illness.

The [bar association's intervention program], while a worthy and necessary program, focuses primarily upon substance abuse.  Substance abusers receive counseling and are often forgiven.  There is no program, though, that addresses other forms of mental illness such as depression, which requires no external ingredient to render its victims equally helpless.  Ironically, depression is a leading cause of substance abuse, yet we focus only on a subset of effects and not the cause.  I write to raise awareness and begin to change that inconsistency.

I’ve never been apologetic or secretive about my mental illness.  I confronted my own issues years before and had been actively working on them and treating them with therapy and medication.  All the while, I’d managed to continue a successful career as a litigator, a career irrevocably damaged simply because I’d admitted I suffered from an illness.  I must publish this letter anonymously because my settlement with my former employer demands I do so.  Ever since, when I’ve interviewed for a job, I’ve had to come up with a good excuse for leaving that firm, one less than honest, because the truth would not only subject me to the potential liability for violating the terms of that agreement, but might cost me the job I was seeking.

Depression, anxiety, panic disorder, social anxiety disorder, OCD….let’s face it, we can all point to someone in our office, even possibly ourselves, suffering from one or more of these illnesses.  Despite the prevalence, our profession would like to pretend these illnesses do not exist because there are no obvious physical effects.  Illnesses that obviously physically debilitate the sufferer engender immediate sympathy, yet mental illness, because of its hidden effects, seems to garner only fear.  The deeper reason, one that has sadly prevailed in society as a whole for centuries, is fear bred from ignorance.  In the case of our profession, though, the fear is deeper:  lawyers live by their wits and intelligence, and are understandably frightened by the prospect of losing control over their most important asset. 

I write this letter for two reasons:  First, to encourage my fellow Bar members to embrace their brothers and sisters who are suffering, or to seek out help if they themselves are in pain.  Depression is insidious, and usually cannot improve without help and support.  Conversely, and more importantly, depression can be managed with support and treatment.

Second, this letter is a plea to all the managing partners who may read this.  You can only improve your firm by improving your employees.  By assuring attorneys with mental health issues not only the help they need but the support they deserve, you engender loyalty.  I can tell you first hand the crushing disappointment one feels when they reach out for help, and instead get punishment. 

I have often joked that all lawyers have a screw loose somewhere: why else would we choose this profession?  There is a bit of truth to that, as well, for at one point or another in our careers, we all have felt or will feel the stress, hopelessness, or defeat that makes it difficult, if not nearly impossible, to continue.  Rather than acknowledge this, we are collectively afraid of it, as if acknowledging our own weaknesses makes us weak. 

The very opposite is true.  The fact is, we all preserve despite these weaknesses.  We are the ones people look to when they have no other choice.  Despite our own insecurities or fears, we go forth and battle for others.  That, in itself, is noble.  And we should honor it as such.

It is time to begin a meaningful discussion about all attorneys in crisis, not just those who turn to substances for relief.  Openness, not silence, will increase support and reduce fear of the unknown.  We are willing to do whatever it takes for our clients; it is my hope that a new compassion will result that will make us willing to do whatever it takes for our colleagues, as well.

Tags: Work

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