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COVER STORY A Story of Recovery I had a prominent position in one of the larger law firms in Nashville. I was successful in my career, with good clients, some expertise in my field and the respect of my law partners and colleagues in the bar. On the surface, to most who knew me, my life appeared to be in order. In fact, however, I was falling apart. I was separated from my wife. I was not paying attention to my cases or my duties to the firm. I was spending unaccounted hours during the day away from the office engaging in activities that I would never want to disclose to my partners or my clients. I was spending money wastefully and drawing on a family trust account to feed my habits. I was depressed and lonely. My problem is that I am an addict. I was actively addicted to alcohol, prescription and street drugs, and lust. Like many other addicts, I lived a double life. To the people I worked with, for most of the time, I projected the persona of a competent professional and solid citizen. In my private hours, however, I did things that I needed to keep hidden — things that I was ashamed about but which I could not control. On innumerable occasions I promised myself and my wife, in all sincerity, that I wouldn’t drink or drug or cruise for sex anymore. But I always broke those promises, and over time my secret life expanded and dominated increasingly larger portions of my time, energy and material resources. I could not believe that I had a serious problem. I was simply incapable of looking at myself honestly. People like me — successful professionals who have these kinds of problems — often will desperately try to hold their work together while allowing the rest of their lives to become unmanageable. We too often define ourselves and measure our self-worth by our work. We are willing to lose our family, our savings and our integrity before letting go of our careers. But our addictions eventually corrode our careers as well, threatening the loss of everything we have. Although I was separated from my wife, we still managed to talk each day over the phone. During one conversation I let something slip out. I mentioned in passing a certain illegal drug that I had “tried.” That was a red flag to her. She got together with my best friend, one of my law partners, and together they approached me to say that it was time for me to go to treatment. I resisted and delayed making a decision, but in the end I had no choice. Without help, I was going to kill myself. Somehow, deep inside, I saw that truth. I spent sixty days in the treatment center. I was terribly afraid. What would happen to my law career? What would my partners and colleagues think of me when I returned? How could I manage financially with the prospect of a divorce, no job and the costs of treatment? What about my reputation in the community? Fortunately, in treatment I was exposed to 12-step recovery originally developed in Alcoholics Anonymous. I came to accept the idea that I was not a bad person, but that I suffered from an illness which, though progressive and incurable, is treatable. When I was discharged from the treatment center, I returned to Nashville and began attending 12-step meetings on a daily basis. In the beginning I would walk into a meeting concerned I would see someone I knew. I wanted to avoid embarrassment, and I certainly did not want word to get out that I had a “problem” or that I needed help. My reputation seemed more important than my health or even my life. Eventually, I did encounter people I knew — clients, other lawyers, and even my wife’s first husband! I began to realize that those persons were probably as embarrassed to see me as I was to see them; and I came to understand that attending these meetings posed no risk to me. In fact, I needed the meetings to stay sober — and I continue to attend meetings today. Studies tell us that the incidence of alcoholism and other addictions is higher in the legal profession than most other professions. These studies make sense to me. Our work as attorneys is stressful, and it stands to reason that many lawyers will seek relief in drugs, alcohol, or other forms of acting-out behaviors. But more importantly, lawyers tend to be egotistical, arrogant, and self-reliant. We know how to argue and put our own spin on things. We believe that with enough effort and cleverness, we can control outcomes. In a word, many of us lack humility. The characteristics of the typical lawyer personality can create a toxic mixture in one who is otherwise inclined towards addiction. We lawyers are adept at denial, and we find it difficult to be brutally honest with ourselves and admit that we need help. Fortunately, there are several lawyers who have hit bottom and sought help, and through that help found their paths to recovery. To many of those lawyers and others like them in recovery, their highest calling in life is to help other addicts who are suffering and asking for help. We have found that, ultimately, service to others is what keeps us sober on a daily basis, one day at a time. Today I have been sober over six years. My marriage is restored. I was accepted back into my law firm. I have recently changed the course of my career to pursue my passion, something that would not have been possible without recovery. I continue to attend meetings several times a week. I sponsor other addicts in their recovery, and I have longstanding and deepening relationships with fellow addicts who have found the same solution to their problems. I do not regret my past, nor do I wish to shut the door on it. Unlike before, I now feel that I can look the world in the eye. I know that my past is my greatest asset when I work with other addicts. Today, because of my program of recovery and our 12-step meetings, I live a life better than anything I could have imagined. • • • Living Well is the Best Revenge “Living well is the best revenge.” I don’t know who said it first, or in what context, but it seems to be a good motto for our lives as lawyers, with all the business, blackberries, e-mails, cell phones and endless deadlines. In this regard, I have the privilege of serving as the chair of a newly formed Attorney Well-Being Task Force, along with 17 other lawyers and clinicians appointed by President Marcy Eason. For the next year our focus will be to examine the issues that plague us and how we, as an organized bar, might respond to them. In keeping with the theme of September as National Alcohol and Drug Recovery Month as well as Suicide Awareness and Prevention month, you will find here a story of recovery from a member of our bar, submitted anonymously and in gratitude to the Tennessee Lawyer Assistance Program (TLAP), as well as information relating to suicide — a deadly response to untreated and sometimes undiagnosed stress and depression, which is all too common in our profession. So, how do we perform this trick, pull the rabbit of happiness out of the hat of hard work? Here are a few simple (notice I didn’t say easy) ideas:
We will be meeting and working hard this year, so stay tuned … and, if you have any thoughts or input, please feel free to contact me at andy.branham@counseloncall.com. I welcome and value your thoughts. • • • Members of the TBA Attorney Well Being Task Force are Andy Branham, chair, Sheree Wright, Lisa Richter, Lance Bracy, Julie Sandine, Ruth Ellis, Judge Butch Childers, Art Grisham, Jackie Dixon and Connie Ross. Find more information about the task force at http://www.tba.org/committees/wellbeing/ • • • Help for Suicide and Addiction Prevention U.S. Department of Health & Human Services National Suicide Prevention Lifeline Tennessee Suicide Prevention Network Tennessee Lawyers Assistance Program (TLAP) National Alcohol & Drug Addiction Recovery Month National Suicide Prevention Week Local crisis hotline numbers can be found in the front of your local phone book, or call 911. • • • Do you have a history of alcoholism? Cut Back? Annoyed? Guilty? Eye-opener? • • • Signs of Depression
Tennessee Bar Journal
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