Shocking: Children’s book lawyers

Living with Depression

One lawyer’s personal account of struggling with depression and its impact on his career

I was 40 years old when depression first struck. I was a trial lawyer and managing partner at my firm. From the outside, I was successful: a high-paying career, interesting work, a great family, and lots of friends. From the inside, however, something was terribly wrong. There was a deep sadness that wouldn’t go away.

Before this time, I had gone to therapists for stress-related issues. Therapy always worked. After a few months talking things through, I always felt better and stopped going. But this time, it was different. Things didn’t get better. Besides the deepening melancholy, I lost my ability to concentrate, to be productive at work. Sitting at my desk, a motion that generally took a day or two to punch out now took me over a week or more; requests for extensions were routine. Depositions? They often got canceled because I was emotionally incapable to do them.

Keeping my door shut, others thought I did so because I was busy. The truth, however, was that I was immobilized by depression. My sleep became fragmented in a way I had never experienced before. I was always tired, but couldn’t sleep through the night. I went to bed early, exhausted from trying to make it through another day. Often waking at 3-4 a.m., I was unable to go back to sleep. I’d get up, watch TV, or read old magazines while my family slept upstairs. Other times, I would shower, shave, put on my suit and tie, and drive to an all-night coffee shop. I was the only customer that early in the morning. Sitting there with my coffee, I stared out into the night. I wondered when I would start feeling better, when things would get back to normal.

I tried to hunker down and power through the depression. That didn’t work. Things worsened. I didn’t bounce back as I had before. I would find myself crying as I drove home, seemingly, for no particular reason. Sadness now haunted my days. Once, driving home on a snowy night, I was sobbing so hard I couldn’t see the road ahead. I pulled off the expressway. Finding an empty store parking lot, I stopped my truck and sat there crying. It must have lasted 20 minutes. I then drove home. Sitting in the dark driveway, I could see my wife and daughter through a house window. They were laughing and chatting with each other as my cheerful wife cooked dinner. I steeled myself. I did not want them to know what a mess I was. Walking through the door, my wife said, “How was your day, honey?” “Just great,” I replied.

My therapist, concerned about my welfare, said therapy alone wasn’t working. He referred me to a psychiatrist. “You have major depression, Mr. Lukasik,” he said. “I am going to put you on an antidepressant. You should take 90 days off work.” He gave me a script for the medication. I took it to my pharmacist and began taking the pills. The next day, I told my partners. It did not go well. Sitting there in our conference room, I said, in a quaking voice, that I had been diagnosed with depression and needed to take three months off to recuperate. “Go on a vacation, for Christ’s sake!” one snapped. Little did he know that when on vacation, I was still severely depressed. I could not experience joy, a symptom, I later learned, of depression. Disneyland was no match for depression. Another partner said, “You’ll be fine in a few weeks and back to your old self, Dan.” Had he heard what I just said? I later learned that disclosure of depression to someone can be met with the person trying to minimalize the problem. I don’t think he said this to be dismissive. He didn’t have a frame of reference for what depression was. He had never experienced it. Like many, the closest thing he could think of was sadness. But depression isn’t sadness. Sadness is an emotion. Depression is an illness.

The Stigma of Mental Illness

Why lawyers are often hesitant to disclose their mental health struggles and the consequences of silence

I tried to hunker down and power through the depression. That didn’t work. Things worsened. I didn’t bounce back as I had before. I would find myself crying as I drove home, seemingly, for no particular reason. Sadness now haunted my days. Once, driving home on a snowy night, I was sobbing so hard I couldn’t see the road ahead. I pulled off the expressway. Finding an empty store parking lot, I stopped my truck and sat there crying. It must have lasted 20 minutes. I then drove home. Sitting in the dark driveway, I could see my wife and daughter through a house window. They were laughing and chatting with each other as my cheerful wife cooked dinner. I steeled myself. I did not want them to know what a mess I was. Walking through the door, my wife said, “How was your day, honey?” “Just great,” I replied.

Breaking the Silence

The importance of creating a supportive environment for lawyers to discuss their mental health

I later learned that disclosure of depression to someone can be met with the person trying to minimalize the problem. I don’t think he said this to be dismissive. He didn’t have a frame of reference for what depression was. He had never experienced it. Like many, the closest thing he could think of was sadness. But depression isn’t sadness. Sadness is an emotion. Depression is an illness.

Transitioning to a New Chapter

Stepping Down from the Bench

The challenges judges face when transitioning to retirement and the importance of preparation

Several years ago, I was approached by Connecticut Appellate Judge Douglas Lavine. He invited me to participate in a program for judges who were transitioning into retirement. Lavine referred to this stage as “stepping down from the bench” and noted that these men and women were having a difficult time with this transition, suggesting some of them were experiencing depression and other maladies. While judges receive excellent pensions and health benefits, the emotional aspect of this transition has been ignored and problematic for many of them.

Mastering Transitions

The three stages of transition and how judges can navigate this significant life change

Like athletes, judges are transitioning into a major life change that affects their prestigious identity. Many of them have not prepared and don’t have a plan for the next path. So, each year for the past six years, I have participated in a program, organized by the Connecticut Judicial Branch, for judges who are stepping down from the bench. I began speaking to them about mastering transitions. Initially, I focused on helping them understand the stages of transitions, relying on William Bridges’ book Transitions as a model for this process. Bridges worked with groups of people adjusting to life changes and identified three stages for negotiating all transitions. The first stage of any transition begins with an ending of something familiar, the second stage is a neutral zone for processing, and the third stage is ultimately a new beginning.

The neutral zone can be the most productive stage, as it is an opportunity for the work required to make a meaningful and successful transition to a new beginning. The neutral zone can be difficult and uncomfortable, but out of that discomfort emerges the growth and self-awareness that become the source of the new beginning. This time cannot be rushed or ignored. Encouraging the judges to take the time to prepare ahead for retirement by attending to what they experience through the neutral zone was suggested. Topics to address included their own personal interests, goals, bucket lists, hopes and dreams. In addition, planning ahead with their families, spouses or partners was discussed. Spouses who have not prepared for transitions often have difficulties when retirement actually occurs, including power shifts in the family. How to manage the discomfort that might arise was also noted.

Planning for a Fulfilling Retirement

The role of personal interests, goals, and family planning in a successful transition

Several of them presented their own stories about retirement. Some very accomplished writers, builders, antique car collectors, volunteers, and singers shared their next stages of life. This group had successfully transitioned their enthusiasm, wisdom, and talent into new areas. They had prepared for this stage and had a plan in place. They had also taken the time to work through the neutral zone, processing their emotions and thoughts about the transition. They were able to find new purpose and meaning in their lives, and they were excited about the possibilities that lay ahead.