LIFE IS OVERRATED

by Keith Anderson, LL.B., LL.M.

Life is over rated. I made that comment one early morning as I traveled to Cape Smokey to learn how to ski. Over the years, it became a phrase we would use at the firm when something went wrong.  Little did I know that in time I would actually think that of my life. I could see nothing  promising.

My life had become a series of bad moments,  bad days, leading to even worse months and years. I just thought that was to be my life. I didn't recognize that it was an actual illness.

March of 2003 was a turning point for me. On the 7th, I was diagnosed with depression. On the 11th, I was suspended by the Nova Scotia Barristers' Society from the practice of law. On the 11-12th, I suffered a breakdown. My mind was in fragments, some functioning, others not. I had lost my health and career in a week. Clearly, not my best moment.

When I was advised by the Bar Society of the complaint filed against me, I took my own advice, and retained a lawyer, Guy LaFosse, Q.C. I remember meeting with Guy after he  had reviewed the complaint and my history. I had had three complaints in 18 years of practice, all of which were dismissed at the first stage of the procedure. His question to me was " What happened, what went wrong in your life, this just doesn't happen?" I had no response. He suggested I see my doctor. Two days later my doctor of 25 years diagnosed me with depression and prescribed me an anti-depressant.

Four days later, I was suspended pending a final resolution. The public hearing was held in Halifax ( I lived and practiced in Sydney ), and lasted a few hours. I responded to questions from the Bar Society's lawyer, my lawyer, and the Committee members. It all appeared surreal. However, I did accept responsibilty for the decisions I made that formed the complaint. I had acted wrongly, improperly, and unethically. The crux of the complaint was with regard to my purchase of a new house.

I wasn't sure how I had arrived at such a point in my life. Over the next few months, and even to this day, I would learn how depression wrapped around my mind and how it such a devastating impact on me.

Depression is like a dark fog that slowly settles into one's mind. With a clear mind now, I can look back and recognize the symptons.

I started to withdraw from my friends. Solo lunches became common. I would get a bagel and a bottle of water and drive around the city. If I didn't have the energy to drive, I would park among the vehicles in a parking lot, hoping that I would not meet anyone I knew. I just wanted to hide for that half hour.

I cut off communications with important  friends  from university days. We had all been foreign students and with that common bond, we had become close. After we graduated, we kept in touch, even before emails. We shared holidays, concerts, and weddings. Then as my depression moved in, I shut down those relationships.

Tears occurred daily. I would cry as I drove to  the office. I would collect myself in the parking lot, walk in, and work all day, as if all was wonderful. Pretending to be fine was exhausting.Then more tears as I returned home.

My last relationship was short changed. As depression eroded my self confidence and self worth, I slowly cut off my contact with her. I couldn't commit to a trip or even dinner the next night. I thought I didn't deserve to be with her. I could  not allow myself to be happy.

Now, to show how twisted my thinking had become given my depression, insomnia took hold. I would sleep maybe 2-3 hours a night from Sunday to Thursday. By the weekend, I would be so tired from life, I would collapse and sleep. But the cycle returned on Sunday. This routine went on for months and years. The reason I didn't sleep was that I hated my life so much, that I didn't want the next day to begin, so, if I stayed awake, it delayed the next morning's arrival. Depression can be powerful.

My level of concentration was low. I couldn't focus to read a book. I had always been one to read. Even as I studied law, I read other books, from science to politics. In these dark years, I would still buy the books, but would be unable to read them.Watching  a movie was no joy. I would be sitting in a theatre and after 20 minutes, I would realize I had no idea what I had been watching.

Why did I miss these signs of depression?

For me, life in my twenties was wonderful, I did well in school, then at work. I was optimistic.Then my thirties rolled around, and I had my own personal challenges surface.

My law partner got us involved in a failed business, leading to some debt.

My father died at age 59 in 1992. I come from a close family. As well, my father was a real estate agent, and my practice was in real estate. So, we talked everyday about something. His death was the trigger for my depression. As well, the pressures of the debt load and  practice became overwhelming at times.

I thought I could handle my own difficulties, but in hindsight, I was at a lose.  My life was just not good. I just kept going, trying to get through each ugly day. I also think that we, as lawyers, are the ones who fix other people's problems. We tend to be strong willed, determined, and hard working. We don't ask for help, people ask us.

Now, getting back to March, 2003. After the hearing at which I was suspended, I walked across the street to the hotel where I was staying. My mother and sister were waiting for me. My brother-in-law was called and  arrived a few minutes later. I decided that we should check out, I wanted to see my niece and nephew at my sister's house, just outside of Halifax. My mind was beginning to unravel even more.

As we checked out,  I tossed my neck tie in the trash. As a lawyer, I had about 100 ties, some I wore for certain occasions. I had worn the tie I usually wore to funerals.

My family provided strong support. I mentally and physically collapsed at my sister's. I spent the next three months confined to a bed. My niece gave up her bedroom for me. There was a chair at bedside, and they took turns sitting with me. Without them, I would have ended up in hospital. This self confinement would actually last to some extent for a few years.

I must say the Bar Society was helpful. I was given a list of doctors for whom the Bar Society would cover the cost of the first ten therapy sessions.

With my family's encouragement, I called one of the  doctors. Now, I had never been to therapy before, so, it was all new. It's amazing what one will tell a stranger. The floodgates opened and out flowed my life. I attended therapy once a week for two years, then once a month for awhile. Attending therapy became the highlight of my week. I learned how to handle anxiety attacks which occurred daily at this time. As well, I came to understand depression and its impact on my life. My doctor also helped me wean myself off the medication.

My family and I discussed my illness at length, learning about depression and what steps to take to get me healthy.

June 23, 2003, was the date set for the final resolution of the complaint. By this time, my lawyer and the Bar Society's lawyer had come to an agreement to which I had consented. But the agreement had to be approved by a Bar Committee. I testified again for a few hours.

I was better able to explain what happened in my life that led to the complaint. I now understood depression. I had found a new house, it was isolated from everyone. Its driveway was over one kilometre long, there were no neighbours. I told few people that I had bought it. My thinking was that if I could get this property, I could hide from the world and be able to breath. So, my decision making was governed by the wrong parameters, depression was dictating how I thought.I had only one goal, my survival. As a result, the decisions I made were wrong and unethical. 

This Committee approved the agreement.  I would be suspended for two years, back dated to March 11, 2003. The only requirements to be re-instated are that I be healthy and that I cover the Bar Society's costs.

The Chair, John Merrick, Q.C.,  said at the conclusion, " I need say no more, but, Keith, go home and get well" Darrel Pink, the executive director, also wished me well.

Over the next months and even up to just a week ago, some friends came forward to help. They did not just say they would help, they actually did so. They helped sell my house; stored my belongings; called just to see how I was doing. Others took me to a few movies and even got me to attend pilates classes for awhile. Others contacted me when they read what I wrote for the National Post, an article called " How I Returned to a Life Worth Living".

So, getting healthy took the support and understanding of my family, my doctor, the Bar Society, and some friends. But  I also know it took my wanting to get well. A series of small steps would lead to major accomplishments. I worked hard.

I would go  to a  favourite restaurant, get take out, and eat in the vehicle in the back parking area.. After doing this for a few months, I then could eat in the front parking lot. Then one day, I could actually eat inside. Now, this entire process took around six months.

I would leave the house to go  certain places where I would be comfortable. I could go to Chapters. Book stores were always a favourite place. But I would go when it wasn't busy. I felt relaxed there. As well, as my mind became clear, I tried reading books again. I could now read and enjoy it.

There were a few bumps along the way. Some people didn't contact me at all. The day I learned of the complaint, I told my law partner. He didn't speak to me after that and then went to Florida on holidays. He didn't know I had retained Guy LaFosse as my lawyer. He didn't know about the suspension until after the fact. He didn't attend the June 23 hearing. I haven't heard his voice since March 7, 2003. Over the years,  I had stood by him with a list of complaints. His going to law school back in 1986 was even my idea.

I was snubbed by one person in a grocery store, who used to greet me with a hug. A local judge put his head down when he saw me in a corner store.

Another person came back into my life, only to take full advantage of my  poor health. She  used me for my money ( I still had some back then ), borrowed my vehicles and  treated me poorly. Then a year later, she called and told me she wanted nothing to do with me.

Well, with the help of my family and doctor I came to learn that such people are not true friends. I made the decision to dismiss them from my life.  A difficult decision, but a healthy one.

Now, I want to make it clear that this is actually a happy story. Getting suspended was a good thing. Don't get me wrong, it was devastating to me, but it had a positive aspect. It removed me from an unhealthy workplace. Those pressures were gone.

Being diagnosed with depression was a relief, in one sense. I knew that my life was not horrible. My bad moments were actually a real illness. I just had to get healthy. I thought I could have a chance at a real life, a second chance.

Before the diagnosis, one solution I thought of many times was a late night canoe trip on the lake in front of the house. With no one around, that could have been my end.

So, the events of March, 2003, were  better then those thoughts. I was put in a place, physically and mentally, where  I could focus on getting well.  I knew it would take a long time, but at least I  had found a path.

I lived on my savings for the first few years, but I now have no money, no income, no job. Life is good though, seriously. To focus on what I don't have is not fair to what I do have. I have my good health. I have my family. I can laugh. I can read a book, watch a movie, and enjoy it. I sleep well. I haven't seen Letterman in months. I have learned how to be happy again.

I will one day apply to be re-instated. I have a  healthy mind  now. I just need the finanicial resourses to do so. If I am fortunate enough to be re-instated, I am not sure what my career will be, but it will unfold.

I must say I have enjoyed writing about my depression. I also spoke in public for the first time in over five years at the Canadian Mental Health Association National Conference last week. I co-presented a workshop on depression and recovery. So, perhaps writing and speaking about depression will be part of my life. A different means of helping people.

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