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I spend a lot of time ranting (and writing, although the two are probably synonymous) about the fact that we lawyers have not made mental health in our profession a priority. It needs to be one, and I am not the only ATL columnist to say so. Perhaps if we are willing to talk more openly about issues that we confront as lawyers, and not just the legal ones, we’ll make some progress in this area.
Last week, I was invited to join a group of other lawyers to do exactly that, to talk about issues we confront as lawyers, be they substance abuse, isolation, or the myriad of other pressures that we face. It’s not just about marketing and networking; it’s about being unemployed after years of practice, it’s about wanting, needing work-life balance, it’s about managing pie in the sky client expectations with the realities of what can be obtained for the client (any disconnect there? No, of course not.)
We were a big group, 20 or so, more than the host expected, and it is a tribute to him that people battled Los Angeles traffic to join him. It also said that there was a hunger for this kind of group, a group of like-minded people who were and are concerned about our mental health. There were millennial lawyers, Gen X lawyers, and boomers. We had all kinds of practices; we were male and female. Everyone was respectful and listened (to the extent possible given the decibel level) to what others had to say. Not everyone spoke up, not everyone shared thoughts, but there was no “mansplaining,” no patronizing behavior, no “you don’t know what you are talking about.” There was no judging, just understanding where people have come from and where people are at right now.
The host led off the discussion. His story was raw, visceral, and courageous. He had shared his story with me some years ago, but I would guess that most of the people there didn’t know it. He had a drug abuse problem that finally forced him into rehab. His insurance wouldn’t pay for as long as he would have wanted to stay to detox, but he gutted it out. After a few rocky years and therapy along the way, he and his practice are flourishing.
There was talk about issues that we all face: getting clients, rather, getting the right clients who will listen to the advice, will pay our bills, including replenishing the retainer when it’s used up. No one went into the profession to be a de facto lender.
We talked about managing expectations and firing clients who refuse to take advice and then complain when they receive “only” 99 percent of what they wanted. They perseverate about the one percent they didn’t get and blame the lawyer for failing to get that one percent. We’ve all been there.
There were stories about having an awesome résumé and great experience, but having trouble finding a job past a certain age.
People talked about the need for work-life balance, that spending time with family and friends is critical, that coaching Little League games, attending school recitals, and other school events, that just being there for the family is intrinsic to mental health. What about vacations? As one wag once said, and I am paraphrasing here, on your deathbed, no one is going to say that you should have spent more time at the office.
We have all seen the destruction that working to death, either literally or figuratively, has caused,and that it is not the way we want to or should want to live our lives. We have read about the deaths by suicide of lawyers of all ages, not just millennials, not just dinosaurs. We cannot help but be profoundly moved by the tragic unnecessary losses of lives.
One story that will always haunt me is that of a widow whose drug-addicted Biglaw husband was so caught up in his work that his last cell phone call was dialing into a conference call.
Slowly, very slowly, lawyers are starting to speak out about their own struggles with substance abuse and mental health issues. As one lawyer noted at the meeting, practicing law is a lonely profession. And that point is borne out by a study last year not only confirming that but concluding that law is the loneliest profession.
Factors contributing to the loneliness include the solitary nature of research, long hours, and just sheer exhaustion. We can’t afford to isolate ourselves. Loneliness can be even worse for us dinosaurs, also known as the “silver tsunami,” those of us who are reaching or have reached retirement age. One friend of mine isn’t taking any more cases, but still goes into the office very weekday for interaction with colleagues.
I think lawyer support groups are a good idea. It’s not networking, not hustling, not business development. Talk like that should be grounds for tossing the person out. It’s development of a totally different kind: it’s self-development by sharing with other lawyers that you are not alone, that other lawyers share the same or similar frustrations and failures, that we are more than our lawyer identities, that we all have vulnerabilities, try as we might to conceal them. We all need this kind of support. If there’s a support group in your area, then join it. If there isn’t one, why not start one?
So, to my host, keep this one going. My only request is that you find a place that’s not so damned noisy. I am a dinosaur and my hearing is not what it used to be.
Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at oldladylawyer@gmail.com.