Index with Links and Descriptions of All the Posts on This Blog (Part 1)

1. Purpose of this Blog: in which I introduce myself, describe the intended purpose of the blog and my hopes for what it might accomplish.

2. Embracing Our Vulnerability : in which I for the first time explain my view about how our attitudes towards and acceptance of our vulnerability needs to change.

3. Sharing Our Personal Experiences (Or Not): in which I discuss the reasons why some people might be able to share and some may not, and explain my view that no one should feel obliged to share but we should strive to create the conditions to make it as safe and comfortable as possible for those who may wish or need to do so.

4. How Can We Support Each Other (A Question, Not An Answer): in which I brainstorm ways in which we might be able to try to support each other re trauma and mental health issues.

5. Toughness And The Legal Profession: in which I describe my perception of the pervasive attitude in the profession that lawyers are and need to be "tough" and the damage it can do/what we sacrifice when we approach our role this way.

6. Professionally Mandated Healing (Avoiding Discrimination and Health-Shaming): in which I commend the efforts to encourage people to get help, but caution that we need to do so in a way that doesn't discriminate against those who have health conditions or suggest that they can't be excellent lawyers. I discuss how we might go about encouraging people to get help without shame and discrimination, and issue a reminder that lawyers with health conditions (physical, mental or both, including chronic conditions that they can't simply go away and fix)  have a great deal to contribute.

7. Strategy to Reduce Stigma For Lawyers' Mental Health Issues (Without Needlessly Exacerbating Other Types of Stigma):in which I discuss how efforts to de-stigmatize one mental health condition can sometimes stray into invoking language that draws on and aggravates the stigma attaching to another mental health condition. I suggest that we need to try to use discourse that is transformative rather than helping people feel better solely by assuring them that they aren't as bad as some other group they might fear belonging to.

8. Doubts and Fears: "Can I Really Make A Difference?" : in which I reflect on the efforts I've made in speaking out to that point and describe some of my fears about whether I'm really helping...

9. In Defence of Trigger Warnings: in which I write about a recent study suggesting trigger warnings for traumatic content in universities cause more harm than good, and reflect in my own non-expert way about why I feel the study might be missing the point.

10. To Those Who May Be Struggling...: in which I directly address those who may be struggling from the effects of trauma, and offer my message of support.

11. Encouraging People To Seek Help Vs. Ensuring Proper Supports Are Actually In Place: in which I discuss the caution I feel we should take in encouraging people to seek help. While we want to give them hope, I feel we need to be careful because sometimes the supports that should be there aren't. I don't say that we shouldn't still encourage people to seek help, but I do say we need to be mindful of the possible barriers they may face in doing so....Unrealistically optimistic encouragement can cause more harm than good.

12. Avoiding A Skewed Narrative: Finding Ways To Learn From Those Who Can't Speak: in which I explain how we need to be careful in not assuming that the stories we hear about mental health are an accurate reflection of what people are experiencing. It can be easier to share and hear the positive  stories (with an outcome that's more palatable to those with the power to amplify those voices). If we want an accurate understanding of the nature of the challenges people are facing, we need to take care to hear all stories, both with positive and "negative" outcomes.

13. My Vision for Our Legal Culture (Re Mental Health and Trauma): After so many posts that are a bit critical of how our profession handles these issues, I write a post that looks to my own vision of what our culture might look like if we handled these issues better (note: it was meant as a more positive post but there's plenty of criticism of the status quo--apparently, I can't help it).

14. Allowing for Complexity and Nuance When Discussing Trauma and Mental Health: in which I discuss the care we need to take in not assuming that outcomes of those who have experienced trauma will always be the same: not everyone will end up with a tragic outcome; and even those who suffer effects won't necessarily do so in an obvious or visible way. We need to recognize the common and obvious ways in which trauma can manifest itself, without erasing the experiences of others who have less visible/"obvious" outcomes.

***Incomplete: will add later entries at a subsequent date**

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

The Little Things: My Totally Quirky Self-Care Tips

As I've emphasized before, everyone has unique circumstances, needs, and vulnerabilities. In addition to the obvious ways in which we might care for ourselves (e.g., therapy and/or medication, exercise, yoga, meditation, writing about our feelings etc.), I think we all need to experiment and find some (hopefully healthy) ways of coping that serve our own particular needs. So here are a few quirky 100% non-expert things I sometimes do to feel better which may or may not be helpful for someone else (Note: I might add to the list from time to time. Feel free to message me if you have any suggestions):

1. Hold a purring cat to your ear: It's a scientific fact: cat purrs are very healing. I happen to have an adorable kitty-cat with an extra loud and enthusiastic purr. When I'm feeling stressed I can cuddle him up against my ear, and it soothes me. Please note, however, that different cats purr differently and mine happens to be a superstar (he could win a gold medal if there were a purring category in the Kitty Olympics!), so I can't promise that all kitties' purrs will do the trick to the same degree. Also, we don't want to stress out or traumatize our kitty-friends, so attempt this self-care tip only if you have a highly tolerant cat who is already very comfortable with you and won't be upset by the exercise (FYI, speaking from experience, I can say that being scratched in the face is not great for self-care)....Note: if you don't have a kitty to cuddle, I highly recommend adopting one or two from your local animal shelter. Saving a life is also good for self-care. Or if you're not in a position to adopt, you could always volunteer to hang out with the kitties or temporarily foster one until the kitty finds a permanent loving home.

2. Have a go-to list songs that can help pull you out of particular unhealthy emotional states: For me, music is magic. The right song on repeat can save me from the worst mood, but I need to know which ones to reach for ahead of time. I've therefore created playlists specifically for this purpose that I update regularly. Sometimes you'll want a cheerful song to lift your spirits and tell you everything will be okay (ideally something you can dance and sing along to). For me, ABBA's Chiquitita works for this purpose. But, other times, when things are especially bleak, the last thing you want is some gaslighting syrupy BS about how everything is going to be okay. What helps me in those moments when I don't believe ABBA that "[I] will dance again and the pain will end" is a suitably bleak song about how nothing is okay and may never be again, but that conveys empathy for people who are suffering with no real hope of getting better. That way, even when nothing can convince you in that moment that things are going to get better, you can imagine a compassionate presence with you who feels for your suffering and wants you to hang on. Even if you aren't able to be convinced that your suffering will end, you can at least feel a sense of meaning and solidarity with others who suffer. I recently discovered this Peter Gabriel song and have heavily leaned on it in the past couple months. In fact, I'm not sure how I could have survived without it. It's incredibly dark (written about political prisoners in the 1980's, I think) but filled with a sense of compassion and solidarity (I can't explain how much it has helped me to hear Peter Gabriel sing in his persuasively compassionate voice: "Let your spirit stay unbroken. May you not be deterred. Hold on."). For another mood, when feeling very insecure due to imposter syndrome, I turn to this song, and find it cathartic to sing loudly along with Ben Folds about what a loser I feel like ("I'm a loser. I'm a poser. Yeah, really. It's over. I mean it and I quit. Everything I write is shit."). On a more practical note, when I need to be reminded to eat healthy foods, I dance around to this fun Animaniacs song. The point is different songs work for different moods, and knowing which ones will work for you can help.

3. Hang out with an affectionate but poorly trained pup or two: Unlike with people, who really should respect your boundaries, I find that my self-care is best-served by cuddling with the worst-behaved dogs who lavish affection on me whether I want it or not. Thankfully, my two adorable rescue dogs, who are both not as well trained as they should be (my fault, not theirs), are ultra-pushy about affection. The old hound mix nudges my hand constantly and head butts me to demand that I pet him. My cocker spaniel leaps into my lap without warning, places both paws on my shoulder, and licks my face while I try to dodge him. The best part about their lack of boundaries is that they interrupt bad moods with their unasked-for affection and seem to have an intuition about the best times to do so. Also their excessive ill-mannered enthusiasm is especially endearing. I'm sure a well-trained dog would be good for self-care too, but honestly I'll take an overly enthusiastic one lacking in boundaries any day (note: this is okay for dogs, not humans, for obvious reasons). See note under tip #1 re what to do if you don't have an adorable pup to hang out with...

4. Buy a decent USB microphone, and then make up your own songs and record them (even if you completely lack talent): I haven't done this in awhile, but one thing that used to work for me was to compose my own spontaneous freestyle a cappella songs. The idea wasn't to create something brilliant or get stressed out about the quality. It was just an exercise in creativity and emotional expression. I even created my own soundcloud page where I shared them (note the lack of a link here, as I won't subject any of you to my terrible singing). As another creative exercise, if you're not up for inventing your own lyrics, I also took some of my favourite classic poems and sang them to whatever melody happened to come to mind (added benefit: it helped me memorize the lyrics of many poems and now I sorta feel like a genius. I imagine it might work for singing important passages from legal cases too...). And I also sang terrible a cappella covers of some of my favourite songs.  (The soundcloud page still exists but I won't share its location, even under threat of torture. Over the years, since 2007, it has managed to accumulate almost 39K plays, which consists 100% of bots, people who clicked accidentally and then wished they didn't, and family/friends who humoured me by listening when I first started making them).

5. Dance around clumsily in the dark: As far as I'm concerned, this works only if you have zero talent, grace, or coordination (but I might be biased since I lack all those qualities). Play your favourite songs in a dark room, and just move however feels right for you (feel free to do kicks and leaps as if you are a graceful figure skater, but, if you're like me, you might want to make sure the room is fully dark or hide the mirrors because it won't be as graceful as it feels and it might kill your mood to catch a glimpse of your actual movements...)

6. Exploring your self-image via selfies: I hesitate to share this one, because selfies get an unfair reputation, especially for women. I've struggled with self-image issues for as long as I can remember. I hate getting my photo taken a lot. But I discovered years ago that there's a power to selfies. The goal isn't realism. It's control. You can take 99 terrible photos that make you want to cry and then delete them all upon finding just one that you actually feel okay looking at. Find the right lighting, or these days the right snapchat filter, if that's what it takes to enable you to feel okay about looking at yourself. Wear as much or as little makeup as you want. Crop it however you want. Be self-absorbed. Be silly. Make whatever facial expressions feel right or fun for you. Play around with different looks and personas. Personally, I'm sick of the shaming women and girls are often subjected to for their use of selfies: my view is that there's no shame in exploring your own appearance, however you please, and there's power in affirming this in defiance of the haters. On the other hand, I don't doubt that selfies can also be unhealthy for some people, so make your decision about whether to use them, depending on how it makes you feel. If it works for you to explore, then do it. If not, then use the camera for photos of your ill-mannered affectionate pups and purring cats. It's all good = )

7. BABY BATS! The closest thing I've ever found to a cure for my PTSD? Baby bats!!! In my worst states, I can watch videos of orphaned baby bats and sometimes the cuteness overload will magically reset my brain and all will be right with the world again. SERIOUSLY, LOOK AT THEM! The world can't be bad with baby bats and the lovely people who rescue them in it.

8. Helping others: https://traumaandlawyersmentalhealth.blogspot.com/2020/03/self-care-in-reverse.html

Closing Comment: The point of the above isn't to suggest that my little tricks will work for you, nor are they a replacement for the more evidence-based self-care and mental health interventions. It's just to show some of what helps me in my more difficult moments and to encourage any of you to feel free to try them if you think they might also help you, but more importantly to think about and have your own strategies for helping yourself through difficult times in your own unique ways.

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

Respecting Autonomy in Addressing Trauma and Mental Health

Mental health issues will be experienced differently by different people. Some might be so severe as to prevent us from being able to do our work or to accurately judge our ability to perform. Some might not. Not only are mental health conditions diverse, so are the circumstances, strengths, skills and vulnerabilities of those who experience them.

Although I was only recently diagnosed with PTSD, the underlying issues have undoubtedly affected me my entire career in different ways at different times. As I wrote here, the toll it took on my life was mainly personal. I remained dedicated to my career and performed competently at all times, until recently when I was unable to perform to the standard required and did the responsible thing and took some time away.

Despite what I was dealing with while engaged in the practice of law, I was no less worthy than the other lawyers around me of continuing to practice despite the fact that (with the benefit of hindsight) I'm now aware that for much or all of that time I was suffering, almost entirely without support, from an untreated mental health condition that profoundly affected me. My lack of full insight into my condition affected my well-being but did not render me incompetent or incapable of recognizing my own limits. I faithfully followed the same Rules of Professional Conduct as everyone else did. I monitored my own competence the same way all lawyers should and when I was no longer able to contribute the way I needed to, I did the responsible thing and took a break to address the issue.

That's not to say that things unfolded perfectly for me. If I had received the right kind of support and encouragement earlier, then maybe I could have suffered much less and accomplished much more. I truly wish that's what had happened for me. I'm not saying that waiting this long to finally seek help was a good thing. BUT if I had been shamed and compelled to seek help that I didn't feel ready for earlier or forced to take a break when I was perfectly capable of performing as well as everyone else, the damage would have been severe. The very harmful message would have been that my condition made me inherently less worthy of contributing (a discriminatory and shaming approach that I wrote about here, which would also have been factually wrong).

The point of me sharing the above is this: we need to support people with mental health conditions, but if we're actually going to be supportive and helpful we must aim to do so in a way that doesn't erase their autonomy, dignity and individuality.  That's not to say that there may not be times when, sadly, a mental health condition might make it impossible for us to judge our own competence accurately or continue doing what we would prefer.  Like so many other issues, this one is complicated (just like everything is, as I wrote about here). Sometimes difficult decisions will have to be made. But the default should be to give people support and proper accommodations to empower them to contribute in the way they wish to if they are capable of doing so, not to assume that they are inherently too broken to contribute (with the right supports and accommodations in place, if necessary).

I speak from experience about the impact of the more damaging approach. As a student, I sought some accommodations for what I was dealing with (an experience that I to a limited extent described here). Up to that point, I had excellent grades and consistently earned scholarships and awards. Yet, despite a proven track record of academic success, what I was greeted with when I needed support were responses that were at first highly skeptical of me (outright accusing me of dishonesty), and then, once I provided documentation regarding my need for accommodations, those responses instead became shaming and controlling. A condition of getting accommodations was a forced leave of absence from the program in one instance and forced counseling in another (for a few extra days on a paper worth very little of my grade). In the first instance, taking time off from both work and school to heal was not a luxury I could afford so I went to a different program. In the second instance, suitable counseling was also something I couldn't afford (university counseling options were not helpful for what I was dealing with and didn't feel safe or comfortable for me, and I couldn't afford appropriate private counseling. Moreover, I simply didn't feel ready for it. I wanted to focus on my studies, as I knew from past experience I was perfectly capable of doing if I could just get past that moment of needing a small accommodation). In the latter instance, I advocated for myself and declined the counseling. After much harmful back-and-forth, I was able to get them to back off from imposing that condition, but having to fight for that outcome was very damaging to me.

The experience of being coerced into options that not only were inappropriate for my circumstances but profoundly undermined my basic dignity and autonomy severely affected me. My difficulties and suffering greatly intensified and almost cost me my education. Once I managed to get past it and successfully graduate, the long-term effect was also serious. It created an intense aversion to seeking help and support for fear of experiencing shame and coercion that erased all my strengths, skills and autonomy. To this day when I come across the old emails from university administrators, I am seriously re-traumatized by reliving what I went through when being treated that way.

So here's my message from my personal experience for whatever it's worth: We have to do better. We have to offer help and support without paternalistic coercive messaging and discriminatory policies and measures. We have to make the effort to continue to recognize people's skills and strengths while offering supports that recognize and reinforce their dignity and autonomy. Otherwise, we are not helping. We are just making things worse. Speaking for myself, I don't count anyone as a friend of mental health who doesn't recognize this, no matter how much "support" they condescendingly offer.

(Note added after the fact: I wrote this about mental health in general, but it's especially important for those who have experienced trauma given the importance of empowerment and connection in healing from trauma. I would add that experiencing a mental health issue may also feel profoundly dis-empowering and disconnecting (and very traumatic in its own right) for some people if not properly supported, so I personally think the same principles would apply, although I'm no expert.)

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

If You're Not Ready to Do It All, Then Do What You Can

As I keep repeating, I'm not a mental health professional. I make no claim to know what's best for anyone. But I can share what's helped me (a highly unique person who may not in any way resemble you). Please don't give it any more weight than that.

So with that caveat duly emphasized, I want to share a few words that may or may not be useful to others about an approach that has helped me.

First, I want to acknowledge that it often isn't easy to decide what kind of help to seek. Perhaps for some mental health conditions, there are clear treatment protocols (e.g., a particular medication or therapy) but this may not always be the case. As lawyers we know that even the most qualified professionals can disagree about the best approach to something. Mental health is a field where there are plenty of "experts," some of whom strongly disagree with each other. So when it comes to deciding how to get help, it's not unreasonable to apply our own critical thinking, to hear out what different experts have to say, assess the basis for their reasoning with due regard for their experience and qualifications, reflect on what feels right for us, and decide for ourselves (after fully informing ourselves) what we'd like to try. Thanks to our courtroom experience, we know the right questions to ask when deciding what approach we find most credible. Personally, it helped me to maintain my autonomy and trust my ability to assess what felt right for me. (Alternatively, we might opt for a leap of faith by finding a professional we trust and allowing them to guide us. I don't think either approach is wrong. We just need to do what works for us)

Second, I think we need to make allowances for the fact that we may have our own personal fears, hang-ups and limitations. That's what I'm going to address in this post. Sometimes, we know what we should do, but we truly feel that we just can't. It may be a symptom of a mental health condition, but that doesn't make it any less real for us. The first point I'd make is that, of course, if you can overcome these fears and limitations, by all means do what you need to and seek the help you need.

But as one human to another, I'm here to address how you might approach your situation if you know what you need but you just can't do it. Maybe it all just feels like too much and you aren't ready.

I raise this scenario because this is exactly what I was facing when I first decided to reach out for some help. I had a lot of well-founded concerns, along with many unreasonable fears (that were nevertheless very real for me). There were several treatment approaches I absolutely didn't feel able to try, the very same things that well-meaning people would be inclined to push on me. In some instances, I was disinclined to try things because, having done my research, I had concerns and reservations about a particular intervention, but other times, I wasn't able to try even if I knew something might help me because I just couldn't. The fear was too great. And the harm of being forced to do it would cause a whole other set of problems for me. So I was kind of stuck.

So if that sounds like you, I can tell you what has helped me. If you can't do everything you feel you should, just start by identifying what that leaves you with, and do what you can for now.

Perhaps in the beginning you won't be ready to reach out at all, but maybe you could start the process by doing those small things you can to make it easier for you to seek help when you do feel ready (e.g., keeping a folder of research into potentially viable treatment options even if you aren't ready to pursue them; or looking at websites of mental health professionals to decide which ones feel safest to you even if you aren't ready to see one and don't know if you ever will be). Then maybe you might find that you reach a point where you're ready to just have one or two conversations with a professional who can offer you some advice and support. So if you can do that, feel free to just take that one small step without feeling the need to commit to anything else. Maybe there are small lifestyle changes you can make (e.g., meditation, yoga, reduced hours of work) to ease the pressure on yourself, even if you aren't ready to have a larger-scale strategy. Just do what you can.

The way I thought of it when I first started on this path was that I was simply creating tools for myself that I could use later if I was ever ready (much like packing a bag to use if you ever have to flee your home in a disaster--in the beginning, all I saw myself doing was packing the bag and planning my possible exit strategy, even if I wasn't yet able to change my surroundings, despite the fact that my metaphorical house was already on fire).

If you're like me, maybe taking those small steps will help you. Maybe with each step you'll feel a bit stronger and then you can reassess what else you might be able and willing to try.

The reality is that I'm still stuck in the sense that I feel unable to pursue most of the options that are recommended for me, but I find that because I accept those limitations and strategize how to do what I can despite them, I'm increasingly able to identify what I can do, and build on those small steps (which have helped me immensely). I'm still in the burning house but now I've picked myself up off the floor with less panic than I was experiencing before and started looking in the direction of the door with a few more tools than I had before to help me get out safely. It may not sound like a lot and it isn't a cure, but sometimes those small steps can be everything.

So if your house is on fire and you're too afraid to flee, please do whatever you can to reach out to someone who can help you get out the door asap. But if you just can't, that doesn't mean there's nothing you can do. You might not be able to escape now, but you can do what you can to make your situation more tolerable and increase your chance of success when you are ready.

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

You're Still You (A Quick Note for Those Who Are Suffering)

Hi there:

This is another note from me to anyone who may be struggling. Maybe you're being really hard on yourself and you don't want to face the fact that you may have a trauma-and/or-mental-health related problem. Maybe you fear it will change everything about who you are.

So here are just a few quick points from me to you:

• You've already accomplished so much (by getting into law school, graduating law school, being called to the bar, practicing law, and/or whatever your unique achievements happen to be). Nothing that happens now takes that away from you. In fact, you have every reason to be incredibly proud of yourself for accomplishing all that despite what you've been dealing with.
• If you seek help and/or show yourself compassion, you won't be erasing those achievements. They're still there waiting for you to build on them whenever you're ready. If you show yourself some kindness and get the help you deserve, there's every reason to believe that you can accomplish even more (assuming that's what you want, which is totally up to you. Maybe, as you heal and gain more clarity about what you want from life, you will choose different goals and that's okay too). If you've achieved so much carrying such a heavy burden, then just imagine what you can do after you work on increasing your ability to carry it and/or reduce its weight or eliminate it entirely!

When I was first faced with an actual mental health diagnosis (PTSD), I had many moments of panicky regret, like it was a Pandora's Box I should never have opened. I wished I had never reached out because there was no going back to pretending that I was someone who had never had a mental health diagnosis. I flashed forward to all the ways in which my entire future could be changed by it, the ways in which my career and personal life could be limited, and all the boxes I would now have to check on forms, etc. But a friend told me exactly what I needed to hear, "You're still the same person you were yesterday. Nothing about this changes who you are." So now I'm telling it to you (whoever you are) in case you need to hear it too.

Yes, there can be stigma associated with trauma and mental health. It's definitely not always easy to deal with these things, and society has a long way to go in properly supporting those who need it. But as lawyers we have chosen a life of advocating for those who need a voice. If you choose to face what you are dealing with and feel up for a little advocacy, then you may find great meaning in doing so not only on your own behalf but also on behalf of others who are struggling.  But again that's totally up to you whether that works for you. At the very least perhaps you can employ some of those advocacy skills internally to remind yourself of all that you've achieved and all the ways in which facing your issues can open up new paths for you or enhance your ability to continue on the path you've already successfully traveled.

Regardless of what happens and how you decide to deal with it, you are still you. You still have the power to make choices about the life you want and the means you choose to pursue it in the face of whatever you may be dealing with. Yes, those choices will be constrained to some extent by circumstances beyond your control (which is the same for everyone), but you can use all the strengths and skills that got you this far, and also add new ones to make you even stronger and more resilient than before.

Not sure if anyone needed to hear that. I can't promise that I'm always good at remembering it myself (I'm super-terrible at it, actually), but I thought I'd reach out in case anyone out there is being as hard on themselves as I often am.

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

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

Vicarious Trauma: Avoidance And/Or Acceptance?

A recent decision is circulating (R. v. Marratt, 2019 ONCJ 618), acknowledging the impact of trauma on justice system participants. As a result of that recognition, a choice was made in that case not to file images of child pornography that could simply be verbally described instead. All participants agreed to this procedure to spare court staff and other justice system participants from being needlessly exposed to such traumatic material.

I don't comment on criminal justice system procedures here, but I will say that I was very encouraged to see a judge sensitively acknowledge the impact that trauma can have on justice system participants, including court staff, judges, and lawyers.

That having been said, I always worry a bit about these kinds of acknowledgments because I fear that an over-simplistic-recognition of the impact of "exposure" to trauma can reinforce the culture of silence that I've experienced and observed. It can become too easy to draw a self-protective line and say "no more unnecessary exposure to trauma" in a way that can silence those who have no choice but to endure the consequences of that exposure (because they've lived it). Excluding those voices because they are just "too much for others already struggling to cope" has real consequences. I'm in no way saying that the case above fell into this problem. It was addressing its own particular facts and I take no issue with it (in fact, I applaud it), but I just fear where the discourse could go, if looked at only from the perspective of avoidance.

Speaking only for myself, I would say this is one of the greatest harms I have faced: the idea that me bringing some of what I've been through to others' attention would just be too much for their mental health. Because they can't handle hearing about it. The result is that I'm not allowed to speak about my own lived experiences the way that others so easily and comfortably can, which has real consequences for my mental health and my ability to communicate freely and effectively. I struggled to articulate this concern in a law school assignment in 2002. The topic was sexual assault and we had been asked to write a few pages using 1st person examples from our lives. I said:

I'm not taking issue whatsoever with the aim of reducing needless exposure to traumatic material and subject matter. In fact I'm very happy to see that recognition of the importance of caring for our mental health. I absolutely agree that needless exposure to traumatic material should be avoided. But let's not forget that a lot of traumatic exposure relates to the lived experiences of people, who may in some (but not all) instances really want or need others to understand what they have been through (while others may prefer privacy).

What I am saying is at the same time as we recognize and reduce the impact of needless exposure to trauma, we should also be working on enhancing our ability to safely face the ugly realities of the world so that those who suffer through those horrifying experiences won't have to endure them alone. I'm not offering answers as to where the line should be drawn. I'm just saying that our objective in addressing vicarious trauma shouldn't just stop at avoidance or reduction of exposure, but should include strategies to enhance our ability to face it.

Trauma happens to people. We need to learn how to accept and bear that fact. We need to learn how to share that burden. We need to learn how to face the fact that it can happen even to us and to our colleagues. While we shouldn't needlessly expose ourselves to it or force others to be exposed to it, my view is that our mental health measures should do more than just protect us from exposure. Rather, what we need to learn is how to face it safely (which includes learning how to recognize when we've reached the limits of what we can bear and how to take self-protective measures, such as reducing needless exposure and handling the material as sensitively as possible when it is addressed). It's the only way to protect our mental health without sacrificing the health and inclusion of those who have been deeply impacted by trauma and don't have the luxury of looking away.

So yes it's a very good step to acknowledge the impact of vicarious trauma, but let's be cautious about where we go next in the discussion. In my view, the answer can't just be that trauma exposure is bad and should be avoided unless absolutely necessary. What we need to do is ask ourselves what measures we need to take to enhance our mental health and resilience so that we can remain open to learning from others' experiences even when they horrify us. It's an extremely basic point but one I have to keep making until I live in a world where people feel free to share their experiences, even when those experiences are just "too much."

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