Harjot Atwal |
Reader beware: You’re in for a scare of a Halloween-themed piece on mental health in law!
Imagine all of us lawyers wearing witches’ and wizards’ hats. We’re all crowded together in Hogwarts’ hallowed halls, smiling (many doing so awkwardly through gritted teeth). The threat of He Who Must Not Be Named is tangible in the air. Yet, is it Lord Voldemort out to take over the magical kingdom? No. Is it one of his terrifying Death Eaters out to take over his throne of mysterious and mystical misery? No.
The unnameable is the fear that we must admit we are human. We lawyers.
Where does the title for this piece come from? Well, I was talking with another lawyer a little while ago. We were working on opposite sides of a real estate transaction. I was representing the buyers, and he was representing the seller. We were commiserating a bit about our clients’ respective positions, and the unforeseen difficulties they had caused us. Accordingly, as an attempt to be friendly and bridge the gap, I mentioned I was in the midst of writing a three-part series about difficult clients I had encountered in the last year (see: part one, part two and part three).
His response was the eponymous phrase: “Keep this under your hat.” The meaning essentially is: Don’t share these stories of human frailty with anyone, or you may be sorry. I queried: “Why should this be?”
Perhaps we can say that I phoned an editorial friend for a lifeline (though I certainly don’t have a million galleons). His response reminded me of the above quote I mentioned 11 years ago in an article entitled Staying ‘sane’ during exams. As I understood from my learned friend, who is better acquainted than I with the fact that lawyers do not like to always consider themselves to be human. Obviously, a client or three cannot cause us lawyers difficulty!
To take a bit of artistic licence, perhaps we are witches and wizards adept at performing skillful spells in courtrooms as others are entranced by our arguments. Alternatively, we are supreme sorcerers who mix prewritten clauses — modified slickly to suit our clients’ best interests — and slyly place them into the most potent portions (or potions) of binding contracts.
Rather than being human, we lawyers are way tougher. Only the darkest of arts can take us down. But is that truly the case?
Ask anyone who knew me at Osgoode Hall Law School from 2010 through 2014 and I get the feeling they could tell you a story or two (perhaps reimagined a few different ways than I would prefer). But, it boils down to a guy who gained over 100 pounds from anxiety and depression as well as the desire to eat and drink his way through it.
Yet, I recently lost 120 pounds as of April 2024, as I detailed here. So, I’ve fought my way through it, right?
Forgive me a break from my Harry Potter metaphor, when I say (in the most PG-13 of ways): Hell, no.
As of last year, I run and operate my own real estate law firm. I have no employees. I’m trying to find love. I still struggle to maintain my weight often while completing my workload and need to exercise and diet harder sometimes after enjoying junk food. Do you imagine that is easy? Hell, no.
I’m simultaneously trying to learn how to become an effective mortgage agent, and then studying to get my realtor’s licence (since I don’t know which side hustle I prefer yet and want try to both before making a decision). Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy, right? Hell, no.
Please forgive the “H,” “E” and double hockey sticks. Perhaps unfortunately, my language would likely be a bit more colourful if we discussed the matter in person, but my rhetorical references won’t transform you like Polyjuice Potion into either someone who cares (if you didn’t previously) or someone who is magically cured (if you can’t learn to accept help in order to save yourself). Instead, consider the next part of Mr. Gold’s above quote from Speaker's Corner: Why do lawyers insist upon torturing themselves?:
My experience confirms for me that lawyers, despite protests to the contrary, are, in fact, human and that those who are able to accept their humanness live much more balanced lives. Whatever life throws at you, allowing yourself to feel and process the feelings that accompany those hardships helps you cope with and ultimately get past them. Resisting human frailties, on the other hand, leads to self-loathing and anxiety.
Why would I resist telling my story if doing so would lead me to hate myself in one way or another? Will I be better equipped to serve my clients (and my personal goals) if I resist my humanity? It’s a logic I understand intellectually as it pertains to the legal community, but not one that I feel emotionally.
Another example I will give you is my article here where I discuss the anxiety and depression I felt from working as a commercial real estate lawyer in bigger law firms and my desire to return to a smaller and mostly residential real estate law practice. My friend and I discussed that there were probably many lawyers who would advise never to write such a piece. After all, should I ever change my mind, my (somewhat negative) discussion would likely prohibit me from ever easily attaining a similar position in another mid-sized or larger firm again.
But wait: Accio balanced life. In the same vein: Reducto unnecessary hardships.
To put it more frankly, and to again reiterate that if you met me in law school (or most years thereafter), you would likely know I have a big mouth sometimes, and I am going to go down whichever path I deem best. If that means occasionally going on a tirade of six to seven articles talking about physical and mental health in the span of a few months of 2024 (many of which are linked in this article) in Law360 Canada, so be it.
Feel your feelings. Process them. Be loud about them. Be quiet about them, but express them. Whatever.
But, mental health stigma? I’m pretty sure that only goes away if we all find a way to make our voices heard during both the good times and the bad times. During the ups and downs. For better or for worse. Don’t always keep everything under your hat (metaphorical or otherwise).
I’m going to quote my favourite bard one last time: Sonorus. Speak up when necessary (or just do it when you feel like it).
Harjot Atwal is a real estate lawyer. In 2023, he opened up his own shop, Atwal Law Firm. You can reach him via email at harjot@atwallawfirm.ca, by phone at 905-264-8926 or on LinkedIn.
The opinions expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the views of the author’s firm, its clients, Law360 Canada, LexisNexis Canada or any of its or their respective affiliates. This article is for general information purposes and is not intended to be and should not be taken as legal advice.
Interested in writing for us? To learn more about how you can add your voice to Law360 Canada contact Analysis Editor Peter Carter at peter.carter@lexisnexis.ca or call 647-776-6740.