Diagnosis

On March 7, 2003, I was diagnosed by my family doctor of 25 years with severe depression. I have since learned that the depression had been creeping into my mind for many years.

On March 11, I was suspended by the Nova Scotia Barristers' Society from the practice of law.

On March 12, I suffered an almost complete mental breakdown, which had been unfolding for weeks, if not months.

So, it certainly wasn't my best week. The weeks and months that followed weren't much better.

I was confined to a bedroom for a month, unable to venture into the world. In fact, I was pretty much limited to a bedroom, a house, for a few years.

My mind was so fragmented that I could accomplish only a few life activities. I could attend at my doctors', go to Chapters, and drive at certain times of the day. My thinking was no longer sharp, I could not remember certain things. It was as if my mind no longer worked in certain areas.


Anxiety attacks became common. My heart would race, I would break into a sweat, and my head would pound. A normal occurrence , like the phone's ringing, could cause me to experience an anxiety attack. It could take hours, or at times, even days to recover. Such attacks were exhausting. As an attack swept over me, I would "hide" in bed or collapse on the floor.

I had lost my health and career within a week. How did I arrive at this point? To be honest, at the time, I was not sure. But with time, help, and lots of thinking, I now understand completely.

In early March, someone who knew of the complaint which led to my being suspended by the Bar Society, looked over my professional history , which consisted of a few complaints all dismissed at the first instance. His response was " What happened to you, this just doesn't happen. Something went wrong . " I had no answer. He suggested I see my doctor. Two days later I was diagnosed.

The crux of the complaint against me before the Bar Society involved certain decisions I made and actions I took when I purchased a new house, acting more or less as my own lawyer.

When I was presented with the entire set of facts, I initially had difficulty recognizing that we were talking about me. The events unfolding were so surreal. I think my mind was already beginning to break, the external pressures becoming internal pressures. However, I had no difficulty in acknowledging that my decisions were wrong and unethical. I accepted responsibility and was held accountable.

Back in 2003, given my state of mind, my understanding of the connection between my depression and the decisions I made in buying the house was limited. But today, with a clear and healthy mind and a better understanding of the effects of depression, the link is evident.

My depression put me in a place mentally where I wanted and needed to withdraw further from the world, a typical symptom of depression. My solo lunches were no longer enough. I worked with clients and staff all day. I could not hide at the office. So, I thought that if I could shut down my personal life, and thus hide, I would be completely alone and then my mind would be at peace. That was my goal.

Now, the house I found and purchased was very isolated. The driveway was one kilometre long. There were no neighbours. I told very few people that I was going to buy it, told even fewer that I had actually closed the transaction. Given my need to be alone, the house was a perfect fit. Getting this house was a matter of survival.

Therefore, I made certain decisions in order to buy it. At the time, I did not recognize that they were wrong. It was simply that my mind was so fragmented and my depression so powerful that my decision making was not governed by the proper parameters. My life depended on my buying the house. That was my only consideration.

Once I moved in though, my withdrawal escalated. While living there, I invited few people to visit. In my prior house, in a standard subdivision, I had staff parties, Super Bowl parties. Not anymore, not in the new house.

My need to hide was so intense that I had constructed a massive wrought iron gate at the end of my driveway. Most nights, upon getting home, I would close and lock the gate. Now, no one visited. No one was around. But still, I needed to lock the gate, to keep the world away. At least that's how my mind functioned, or didn't function.

At this point, I think it's necessary to explain the Nova Scotia Barristers' Society's complaint process, to show how it works and how certain events unfolded over its course which came to help me.

A public hearing was convened by the Bar Society for March 11, 2003. I attended with my lawyer, who , it should be noted, did an exceptional job in handling my file, and, at times, my personal well being. I think he understood depression and what it can do to a person better then I did at that time. My family waited at the hotel across the street from the Bar Society's offices. The hearing was held in Halifax, and I lived in Sydney, a 4-5 hour drive.

I responded to questions from the Bar Society's lawyer, my lawyer, and the Committee's members for several hours. The Committee, after careful consideration, suspended me for three months, allowing for further review by all involved.

During those three months, an agreed statement of facts was achieved between the lawyers. This Agreement called for me to be suspended for two years, back dated to March 11, 2003. In order to be re-instated, I would have to be declared mentally healthy by a psychiatrist and cover the Bar Society's costs in the amount of $25,000.00.

But this Agreement had to be approved by another Bar Society Committee, so another public hearing was held on June 23, 2003. Again, my family waited in the hotel across the street. I testified for a few hours. I took full responsibility for my decisions. I agreed that what I had done was wrong. I understood depression better then I did in March, and thus, I was able to explain what happened to me. Both lawyers presented a joint recommendation according to the terms of the Agreement. This Committee approved the settlement.

I must commend everyone involved, from the lawyers, the Bar Society's administration, the Committee members, and the woman who provided me with water and tissues. They listened to me and acknowledged the impact of depression on my life. That provided some peace.

My family told me that the Bar Society would have a "heart". I just didn't think anyone would when it came to me, my low self worth brought on by depression being a symptom of depression. As the June hearing concluded, John Merrick, Q.C., the chair of the Committee, finished by saying "Keith, go home and get well".

Shortly after my suspension, and in the midst of my breakdown, I realized that getting suspended may have been the best thing to happen to me in awhile, for several reasons.

One may think my life must have quite difficult if getting suspended was a good thing. Well, that's correct, my life was that bad.

Getting suspended gave me a second chance. It removed me from a workplace that was not healthy for me. I no longer had to struggle to go to the office. I no longer had to pretend that I enjoyed my work. I no longer had to deal with the people everyday. The pressures of my office were gone. Also, thanks to the diagnosis of depression, I knew the source of my troubles. All I had to do was work to get well. I had a chance at a real life. I had a new found sense of optimism, even though it was covered by layers of low self confidence, low self worth, and anxiety attacks. I hoped that one day that the optimism would rule. I realized I had a long and difficult path ahead, but at least I was now on the path.

As well, the suspension gave me an option to focus on my mental health and to get well. I lived on a lake, and many nights, I looked at the lake as my only option out of my troubles.

I remember explaining this to John Merrick in July, 2006, and his response " Well, I guess it's just a matter of perspective."

So true.

Keith