A Vulnerable Time (A More Personal Post)

Since the beginning of this experiment with mental-health-and-trauma-related advocacy (starting with this article and then this blog), I've had the sense that I might be doing something unwise speaking out the way that I do. Perhaps recklessly, I've chosen to share my experiences at a time when my own outcome seems most bleak. I didn't recover first and then share my perspective once I was safely in the clear. At the most difficult moment in my career when I am more isolated than ever in my personal and professional life, I realized that there are things that needed to be said that have been building up in me, so I just finally broke and said them regardless of the consequences for me.

I don't regret it. I still feel that it needed to be done.

But it may not have been smart. Sometimes it feels like I'm narrating my own breakdown, unsure of what the ending will be. Maybe that's where some of the urgency comes from. I can't know whether it will be a crash landing or a successful one, but I have thoughts I need to share and conversations I need to try to start. So I have to say these things now, just in case I'm unable or unwilling to coherently do so later.

The consequences of the things I write about have been severe for me. Most of those consequences have been personal, not professional. In recent years, due to the nature and degree of my suffering, I increasingly isolated myself to the point where I gave up any real hope of a meaningful social life. I stopped dating altogether and had fewer and fewer close friendships. In those close relationships that I did have, I was constantly frustrated by my inability to explain what was going on with me as I feared that those relationships would be unable to withstand the revelation of what I was suffering (as had been true for many past relationships). As a result of that increasing isolation and a recent move from Ontario to Vancouver (where I knew almost no one), my personal life has all but vanished. But throughout it all, I've maintained my sense of professionalism and dedication to my work. I didn't perform as well as I could have if I weren't suffering so much, but I got things done. The combination of the nature of my work and my past experiences affected me greatly, but I never stopped being able to competently perform. I made sure of that, no matter how difficult it was to endure. I just couldn't allow myself to break.

However, 2019 has been different, because for the first time there were consequences I couldn't ignore for my professional life. For the first time, I had no choice but to take a break since the suffering was just too much. There were days at the office when I would struggle to eat my lunch because the fork would shake so much that I could barely get it to my mouth. I stopped being able to sleep more than a few hours a night.The suffering was no longer possible for me to contain enough to get things done.

For the first time ever, with great trepidation, I spoke to my family doctor and reached out in a meaningful and substantive way to a mental health professional. The result was that, unlike ever before, I now have a mental health diagnosis (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), something I had been afraid to seek out for fear of the consequences, yet was undoubtedly long overdue. 

My intention and expectation is that I will return to work and continue being a competent lawyer. I hope and expect that I will find better ways to cope so that I can go back to doing what needs to be done and doing it well. But, of course, it's scary to think about going back after something like this. It's not an easy time to say the least. And I can take nothing for granted. Nevertheless, it's something I know I am capable of under the right conditions.

As to whether I will heal from my trauma and have a meaningful and somewhat fulfilling personal life, I can honestly say I have no clue. It often doesn't feel that way. It's often not clear to me if I even really deserve to or if I would even know how to rebuild one. I've prioritized my career so much (surviving just well enough to be able to cope sufficiently to get the job done to an acceptable standard) that my own sense of who I am outside of work has been almost entirely sacrificed (except for the fact that I love animals and detest avocado-the two most important things to know about me as a person).

In other words, I'm confident that I will be able to function as a lawyer again provided that the conditions are right, but I'm not so sure if I will ever be able to become a person again (something I in many ways ceased to be long ago, it seems). As I've said before, it sometimes feels like I'm speaking on these issues from a void, and I would add now that sometimes it feels like that void is what's left of my personhood. I'm still able to call out from it in the hope of starting a conversation that might help others, but I'm not sure what's left in it for me. All I know is that I still have a voice and so I'm going to do my best to use it.

This Friday the 20th, I will have my first birthday as someone with an official mental health diagnosis. And the first one in a decade and a half where I'm not currently actively engaged in the practice of law. It's hard to look on the bright and shiny side of things. I've lost so much as a result of all this. I have no big celebration plans. Looking back on how my life has evolved to this point is not a pleasant process. None of this is easy.

All I know for now is that I'm going to continue speaking from my void for as long as I can, although it is personally very difficult for me to do so. Once I return to work, I'm also going to continue striving to be the best lawyer I can be, even if my personal life continues to be sacrificed. And in the meantime, I'm going to do my best to try to figure the rest of it out...

As always, please note that I am a lawyer, not a mental health professional of any kind. I have no expertise in trauma or mental health. Also, please note that any opinions and views expressed in this blog are solely my own and are not intended to represent the views or opinions of my employer in any way. For more information about the purpose of this blog, please see here and for a bit more information about my personal perspective on this issue, please see "my story" here

I am very grateful to have received a "Clawbie" Award for this blog (which reflects the importance of this topic): https://www.clawbies.ca/2019-clawbies-canadian-law-blog-awards/

For some of my external writing on this topic, see:  

• https://www.canadianlawyermag.com/news/opinion/a-more-inclusive-discussion-on-the-impact-of-trauma-on-lawyers-mental-health-is-needed/276166 
• https://www.cbabc.org/BarTalk/Articles/2020/February/Features/Speaking-Up-About-Trauma-and-Mental-Health    
• https://www.canadianlawyermag.com/news/opinion/changing-the-conversation/326240