Rebuilding on New Ground: After Life's Hurricane

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long as the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us.” - Helen Keller

Rebuilding on New Ground

After Life's Hurricane 

It has been a while since I have drafted any blog posts. It has also been a while since I have started to take a trend towards a renewed happiness. My previous blog post indicated everything that has transpired prior to my move back to Philadelphia. March 17th will mark my three-month anniversary since I have landed back home. While it is several days off from exactly three months, these three months have been eye-opening. Even in the pain and depression that I had to fight through, it was clear that my life needed improvements on all fronts.

Assessing the Damage

Metaphorically, in my last blog post, I talked about my house being built upon sand. When I returned to Philadelphia, I had to have a critical moment with myself to figure out where I had gone wrong. Truth be told, It was a daunting process that took most of the month of December. I know that the bar exam was coming up again in February, but I also wanted to use the holidays to figure out what was wrong with me and why I was struggling so badly.

It revealed itself to me within a week of sitting and thinking what was wrong; I was completely out of balance.

Mentally, I was struggling with depression from having to give up my life in Atlanta and my independence. I felt like I had failed as a man and as an adult because I had to move back home, lose my income, and lose my own means of making a living. Physically, I was falling apart. My weight ballooned as I gained 15 more pounds on top of the weight I had been struggling to lose. I was tired all of the time and my blood pressure had gotten worse. Spiritually, I felt broken. I felt that God had completely forsaken me and that I was meant to be a tortured soul because he did not take me when I asked him to (immediately following my bar results... this will be the subject of another post later). 

The day after New Years, it became clear what I needed to do. I needed to get myself back together. I needed to reclaim myself from all of my issues. Rather than cede my power to people and things, it was time to take charge of myself. Historically, this has always been a challenge for me; I always tried to control everything both internally and externally to make sure that it all was "right." But I learned that trying to control the external sometimes yields very little. So with that in mind, I said that 2019 was going to be the year I take myself back. 

I did not realize how revolutionary when I decided to deem 2019 a year of Reclamation. Yet, the change was not overnight and is still ongoing. 

Building Something New

The first step to fixing most of my problems had been completed; I identified them and wrote them down. However, the second step was the most difficult part of the journey and is still one I struggle with from time to time. 

I had to reframe my approach and viewpoints. The first thing I had to start with was saying to myself  "that I'm going to this again." Anytime I felt myself feeling like I wanted to cry (and yes, men usually cry when they felt like they have lost everything) or get frustrated over what I had lost, I immediately would say the opposite of what I was thinking. I had to cognitively reframe my situations as they happened. While this is strange to some, I decided to take a spiritual approach to this. Many spiritual texts (including the Bible) talk about the power of words. For me, I wanted to not speak stagnancy or negativity into the journey I was embarking on. I only wanted to speak life, positivity, and affirmations into it. Even when things were not ideal, it helped me get through many dark days of studying the bar again. 

The second thing I did was that I had to look within to find my spiritual compass. I left Atlanta spiritually near-dead. I also had a bad habit of calling on God when I felt that my life was falling apart. I learned that many of us making the mistake of talking to God (or our divine being of our respective religions) when we are in trouble. However, I decided to stop crying to God only when I was hurt. I prayed to God many days and nights thanking him for what I did have.

It helped me realize that I was blessed and that I had a lot more than others. I became appreciative of the fact that I had a family home to return to, my mother and sister are alive and well, and that even when I felt unloved or had no mercy on myself, they would be there to cheer me on and encourage me. Prayers of appreciation and regular engagements with the Bible through prayer calls and my daily Bible app helped me through many tough days as I was studying for the bar exam. There were days where I would be so disgusted on my own performance on practice questions. However, I had to stop and think to myself that if God wanted my journey to be over when I asked to be done because I felt I had failed in my purpose, he would have called my number. Then I'd remind myself this one key thing: "if God can have grace on you, why not have grace on yourself?"

The third thing I did was that I changed my diet and started exercising. Exercise is important, but it is important that you pair it with a change in diet. One thing I got rid of was potatoes... because I realized that when I ate them, it would affect my digestion and also affect my mood. Additionally, I now work out at least an hour 4 times a week. While I was studying for the bar, I had to walk almost a mile back and forth to the library where I would study at every weekday. In changing my diet and increasing my level of physical activity, I lost 25 pounds. I did not realize how much weight I lost until I had to pack to head back to Georgia to take the bar exam at the end of February. When I used to struggle to fit a size 38, I now fit comfortably into a size 36. I feel a lot better, and I think a lot more clearly. Plus, keeping to a diet and exercise regime helped keep me disciplined. 

Placing the Fence 

In building something new, on more stable ground, and seeking to reclaim yourself from spiritual, physical, and mental deprecation, it is also important to remember the effect that others have on building something new. 

Keeping a privy council is always best. Yet, it is best to keep it small, keep it intimate, and keep it with people who you have built trust with. Not everyone should be entrusted with news of your growth. Some may even feel the need to limit it or block it if you mention it. Work your plan and keep very few on notice about how you are going about reclaiming yourself. For me, I had to learn this lesson the hard way. But also, I learned that not every person cannot be called a friend and some "friends" are best held five feet away from you and your magic. 

Even after two months of this change, I started to look at some of my relationships shift with certain people in my life. There are some people in my life who I love dearly as my friends, who I now realize are broken, toxic, or troubled. One thing I learned in the new approach that I am taking that I cannot fix other broken people without the right tools, toxicity is best avoided altogether by keeping my distance, and trouble is best handled by pointing it in another direction. 

More simply put, you cannot allow yourself to be imperiled by your conscious decision to give time and power to others who will merely waste it and laugh in your face. In line with this thinking, I now am focusing on fixing solely myself. One friend has said that my new approach is selfish. However, the old approach left me just as broken, toxic, and troubled as those I tried to help. I'm more effective as a whole person free of encumbrances than someone weighed down by the negative energies of others. 

As relationships shift, do not despair. The good friends and the positive influences will be there for you as you grow. The ones who are "friends" only in name will either fall away or reveal their true colors to you. Once someone's true colors are revealed, and it appears less than reputable, take Maya Angelou's advice: "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time."

Conclusion

These last few months have been a period of immense internal growth. While it has been painful, and at times, I cried or was angry at my circumstances, I found a way to start to turn the corner. Now, that I'm on the road to something new and I have two months and some change until the bar exam results from February release, I have full faith that what is currently under construction is more beautiful and robust than what stood before. I also have full hope that for all of the suffering and depression I went through in the past will yield something beautiful and glorious come May. 

The Danger of Sand Foundations: Starting Over

The Danger of Sand Foundations

Starting Over

For many of us, we struggle with trying to hold onto old things. It is a part of our human way. Many of us are stubborn and want our way. Yet, there are times when wanting our way costs us our health, money, and ultimately – our pride. This is a lesson I am learning now in the midst of a bunch of reorganization occurring in my personal as well as professional life. Here is the story.

The Houses Built on Sand

I lived in a house that was built on sand. There were many times where I had great success; I got scholarships, good grades, got into a great law school, won awards, and made academic and professional strides well beyond someone of my age normally got.

Notice however what frames this story: glory – pride that never ceased and radiated like the Sun coming over a morning horizon. Yet, I fell for the same cycle of placing myself in peril. I would construct these grand houses of pride, excellence, and opulence on foundations of sand. They stand tall for a time, but with the slightest encroachment of rain or wind, the entire structure comes tumbling. Even without the encroachments, these same structures would sink and subside leading to a less evident destruction. 

The Repeated Subsidence 

Subsidence is defined as "the sudden sinking or gradual downward settling of the ground's surface with little or no horizontal motion." It is common when the soil is unstable and the land above gives way. Comparing it to my life, there have been many points in which the underlying area beneath my accomplishments and successes were plagued with instability. The most recent period of this was in the last couple of years living in Atlanta.  

This last period of subsidence in my life happened because of financial problems, mental disease, health issues, fatigue, and destroyed confidence from poor mentorship and poor self-care. This was evident in how I treated the completion of law school; I did not look at it as a moment of immense celebration – I took it merely as a moment to exhale. That moment was brief, and the bar exam was the next thing of a growing list of things that had to get done and pass. Yet, as I continued onwards to take the bar exam, I was aware of the ongoing issues that I was plagued with internally. Rather than be responsible and addressing them, I dressed them up and acted as though nothing was wrong. 

While studying for the bar, I battled quite a few demons: depression, physical health issues, death, and intense financial hardship. Yet, I acted like those problems were not there. Rather than appropriately address them, I played stoic.

What I learned from making this mistake and dressing up my problems rather than addressing them was that they were set to grow and worsen. Time has a way of either fixing problems or causing the situation to deteriorate further. In this instance, my mental and physical health deteriorated and I was left in a state of shambles. By the time August had rolled around and the Bar was over, I found myself needing to piece myself back together. The grand houses that I built on the sand sank well into the ground below. September into October, my financial situation worsened and the prospect of fixing my problems rested solely on passing the bar exam. 

The Destruction

The day that everything came to an apex was October 26, 2018. The Georgia Bar Examination results were set to be released that morning. I came into work and started my day with a nervousness settling deep within my spirit. Suddenly, the first emails had gone out. People's fates were revealed by a simple ping on a phone or computer. One of my coworkers had gotten his email and within moments was rejoicing. He had passed.

With a weight in my gut that I had never felt before. I went to the bar website (I did not get an email at that point) and logged into the portal. The exam results were posted on my page. I opened them.

My world shattered. My visions of success were tarnished. The world had gone grey. I collapsed into a state of devolution; blubbering and crying with a severity unlike any other felt in my life before. The house of achievement I built upon the sand instantaneously crumbled under its own weight. The deciding factor came as a sudden jolt:

I failed the Bar. It was a matter of nine points that solidified my dreams and affirmed me. Those nine points left me feeling like I was irretrievably broken. I felt my willpower leave me. I remember I left my office in tears hours earlier than anticipated, and I went home and laid on the couch. I said to God. "I have failed to clear the final hurdle after 20 years of pursuing this dream, what are you going to do with me now?"

The Contemplation

It's been a couple weeks since that moment. Every day it hurts less. Yet, the house that stood upon the unstable foundations of sand sits in a state of disrepair. I felt inclined to go back and try to pick up the tattered pieces of my life and my psyche after the Bar exam. The pain, however, is simply too much for me to bear. The only option left is to abandon "the old" and all that comes with it.

When I refer to "the old." I'm referring to frames of thinking that were incongruent with reality. I thought that perfection and doing "the right things" would get me what I wanted. I also believed that If I put 10, 12, or even 16 hours into a day studying and perfecting something, I would be so good at what I'm doing that I would be able to clear the hurdle.

The old way of thinking was self-defeating; whenever I was told I fell short, I would go harder on myself. The old way of thinking destroyed my self-confidence and left me as a hollowed shell. I had the brains, but I had no confidence behind it to demonstrate it was present. The old way of thinking put me out of sync with God. It made me believe that God was complimentary and that he would only allow my dreams to come true if I proved myself worthy to man.

After looking at the mental, emotional, spiritual, and fiscal wreckage left behind by me failing the bar exam and looking at my life critically, I realized that it was time to abandon what was there. What I could salvage of my dignity and my emotions I did. The rest I decided to leave in its place – it is now a monument to building on a poorly chosen foundation.

The Moving

At present, I am in transition. I am still working. I am still paying my bills. And I am still in the process of making things work. However, with less than a month left on my lease, and the prospect of taking the February bar exam as a reality, it has dawned on me that there is a set of reality that comes with me failing the bar.

I got hired 11 days before the bar exam results came out. I was grateful because, after months of looking for permanent employment, I had found it. As a result of my failing, I did not lose my job. But, in a more heartbreaking twist, I have to relinquish it. My schedule at where I took up employment is at odds with allowing me to study again for the exam.

Even if I was able to keep my job on a part-time basis, I have to relinquish my apartment. With a drop in the number of hours worked, it also will cut my salary. So, that means that I would not be able to make enough money to afford all of my expenses.

The final thing I now have to relinquish is my autonomy. In my adult life, I've had the unique privilege as a millennial of living independently. Since I have been 18, I have not regularly lived at home in my mother's house. At 25, I must return home. It is not because of my mother being ill. Nor is it because of the fact that the family needed me to come back. It is because of money, opportunities, and dignity have disappeared. I am thankful and grateful, however, because some people do not have parents or a home to return to. When the bottom falls out for some of these people, they have to figure it out with no support.

In a way, it sucks that I have to relinquish the dream of living well and primed for better in Atlanta for the foreseeable future. Yet, I am glad I had the chance to get as close to it as possible. In the meantime, I need to return back to a place where sand foundations are a rarity. Being back home, my foundations were so stable that nothing changed. In the midst of deaths and divorces, life still kept moving at a steady pace. Friends and family carried on and people lived their best and truest lives.

Conclusion

Heading back to Philadelphia was not in my plan. However, if it means success when I take the exam in February and a sweet victory in May when I pass, then I am willing to leave Atlanta behind for a while. I am going to miss my friends and miss the place that tested every piece of grit I could potentially have. Yet, now is the time to do what is best for my future. God, my mother, my closest friends, and my significant other all support my decision to pack up and leave. Even my employer also supports the decision.

This means that for the next few months, I will be disappearing from this space to try to recenter my life. When I return, I hope I can share with you what I have learned from living in a house, that is not built on sand foundations. 

Why We Cannot Wait: Mental Health in the Legal Profession and Community

Why We Cannot Wait

Mental Health in the Legal Profession and Community

Introduction

It has been one year since one of my good friends who attended law school with me took his own life. People are unwilling to say it with such a level of directness as I. However, I can say it with such sharpness because of the response that occurred by people in the law school community I was a part of. Looking back on it, I never knew exactly the level of turmoil and struggle that one of my good friends was going through at the time. He was one to always crack jokes, he had an infectious smile that would make you feel better on days that you struggled to make it through the grueling landscape of law school, and aside from the comedy that he provided – he provided some sage advice to me in the time that I knew him. 

He was imperfect, but he also was someone who I could talk to about some of my issues and would understand some of the hardships I dealt with in the midst of the "process." However, upon news of his passing, the law school attempted to disguise his identity with a vaguely worded email notifying the community of his passing and his employer promptly removed him from their website within hours of being notified of his passing. In a way, I felt as though he was erased. 

However, like the old adage that we use in tort law: we take people as we find them. With law schools and the legal profession being a high stakes game of success or failure, the pressure is insurmountable to many. For a limited few, they are adroit enough (or frankly have ample resources) to rise above the challenge of law school and later working in the legal profession. For many, however, we fall victim to the mental whipping that law school and the following career path places upon us. Thus, our mental health, our physical health, and our dignity begin to slide downwards. For my friend, he entered law school with some issues, the same I or many of us did. However, rather than championing him seeking assistance, the environment of the legal profession and law school ended up claiming him in the end. 

The Facts

For those who are unfamiliar with law school and the legal profession, let me provide some context of the issue. Mental health awareness in some professions and academic programs have taken off in the last few years. In the legal profession, however, mental health awareness is a recent focus in the legal profession [1][2][3]. The tight job market, galactically high student loan debt, and the high stakes and high-pressure nature of the job of being an attorney have taken its toll on lawyers new and old in the profession. An article written by Kristen Johnson earlier this year reported that mental health issues and substance abuse are an immediate threat to the continuity of the legal profession [4]. Her report is not novel, however; it is a continuation of already understood issues. 

The statistics are alarming. Lawyers rank 4th in suicide deaths by profession [5]. One in three (approx. 33%) of lawyers engage in problem drinking [6]. Further for many the problem started in law school. [7]. Yet, "44 percent said problem drinking began during their first 15 years of practice." [8]. For some, the problem runs deeper. Harder drugs such as opioids and Xanax are now becoming more common. A story ran in the New York Times in 2017 quoted Warren Zysman, the clinical director of the EARS Recovery Program in Smithtown, N.Y., saying that "It used to be mostly alcohol [. . .] but now almost every attorney that comes in for treatment, even if they drink, they are using drugs, too — Xanax, Adderall, opiates, cocaine and crack.” [9]. 

The Anecdotes

Do not get me wrong, the profession is still noble - but something in the system is broken enough to practically destroy budding attorneys or have successful ones wither on the vine. It is apparent that something must be done. It also requires the culture of the legal profession to shift and not support or enable unhealthy alcohol or drug habits. 

I very vividly remember when I was in law school, people hailed Adderall as the "miracle drug." You could get 200 pages of reading done that night or study for 12-15 hours in a day without having to stop. In law school, the ability to study 12-15 hours a day non-stop was an accomplishment met with praise and sheer discipline. However, no one really can comprehend unnatural nature of such a feat. The same "zeal" is even expected in legal practice with some days starting at 6:00 in the morning and dragging into the 10:00 or 11:00 hour at night. In a world where this is now the norm, the ability to keep up demonstrates a lack of proficiency, laziness, and an unwillingness to go the extra mile.

But what does this mean for mental health? From my experience, I've heard people be told to "suck it up ... this is your new reality" to the  "go the doctor and get a Xanax prescription." I've even heard bar prep lecturers (as recently as a few months ago) say that "it's best to keep your ibuprofen for your headache right next to the Xanax and Ambien bottles." In a way, this toxic romanticization of mental dysfunction has become a norm that people believe can be best fixed by pills and copious amounts of marijuana or alcohol. 

Now is the time for law schools, bar prep lecturers and bar prep material providers, and employers to seriously take a look at the world that they are crafting for up and coming attorneys. As millennials now come of age and enter the legal profession and law schools the demographic is more mental-health aware than their elders [10]. Millennials, however, are at higher risk for mental health disorders compared to other groups due to societal pressures on perfection, financial independence, and image [11][12]. For existing attorneys, the same is true. Billable hour times have gotten longer from the already average 1700 to 2300 hours a year. Some suggest that with the introduction of millennials, the 2500 billable hour year will become the new standard [13]. 

In this environment, once again - where does mental health awareness have its place if you're expected to output several thousand hours of work, of which only a portion is billable? Where does mental health have its place when law schools are breeding a culture of "existence by substance?"

The Solution

While law schools and bar associations are stepping up to assist law students and lawyers with their mental health concerns and the ABA has created the lawyer assistance program for substance abuse [14], the profession trails behind others in terms of being able to offer the assistance that is important to allow people to thrive and grow. 

There is a need for more programs that cater to attorneys. While the belief is that attorneys get paid well to deal with the problems of others, peace of mind is a hard thing to purchase no matter if you're making $65,000 a year in public interest or $190,000 as a first-year associate. 

There also needs to be a more honest, open, and constructive dialogue about seeking professional help and guidance. Rather than offering a recommendation for Xanax or offering a glass of wine or hard liquor to students at a keg, there needs to be a culture that fosters an "I understand" rather than a "Get Over It" mentality. Luckily, this dialogue is opening up with places such as Above the Law having a series of articles dedicated to attorney wellness [15]. 

The last thing is that there needs to be a definitive statement and a reminder to all law school deans, bar prep personnel, older lawyers, and legal employers. The 2017 report by The National Task Force

on Lawyer Well-Being, titled: Creating a Movement To Improve Well-Being in the Legal Profession states poignantly that “[t]o be a good lawyer, one has to be a healthy lawyer. Sadly, our profession is falling short when it comes to well-being." [16]. 

I'd recommend that all law school deans, employers, senior attorneys, law students, and those thinking about law school read the Report by the  The National Task Force on Lawyer Well-Being.  The same way that law students were tasked with reading extensively about Pennoyer v. Neff on the first couple days of class should also occupy the consciousness of everyone in the legal profession. We all know what to do, it's just a matter of acting now. 

Ending Statements

In closing, I want every student and person reading this to understand the importance of the words I've shared here. I want you to engage with this material and if it speaks to you - share it. 

I also want to dedicate this piece to my friend E. Cortez Adams who transitioned on September 24, 2017, after struggling with depression which became too much for him to bear. Following his departure from this Earth, we found that he passed the New Jersey Bar Exam posthumously. Had he been alive today, he would be been a practicing young attorney in New Jersey with immense promise and with wit as sharp as a tack. 

As someone who has struggled with their mental health throughout law school, lost their dignity at the hands of the "process," and still fighting the exhausting yet well-worth-it fight - I know there are days that tasks seem insurmountable. There are days when the billable hour seems like the death of us, or a client or supervisor is riding us hard. 

However, remember that we are in this struggle together. Call your friends, speak to your mentors earnestly and honestly, engage in self-care, find a hobby, and make the time for yourself - even if it means sacrificing an hour of the day. 

Ultimately, when it is all said and done - longer hours do not make you more productive [17]. What does make you more productive, is a sense of self-pride and self-worth; a sense of morale and dignity carries you a long way in providing a service for your supervisors and clients. So if you feel as though you need assistance, I borrow the words from Above the Law:

"Most law schools have counseling and psychological services resources that students and graduates can turn to if they are in crisis or would like counseling, even after hours.

 If these services are not available at your school, and if you or someone you know is depressed and in need help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255) or a lawyer assistance program in your state (don’t be fooled by the name; these programs also provide services to law students).

 Remember that you are loved, so please reach out if you need assistance, before it’s too late. Don’t become a statistic — please seek help."

Cranes In My Sky: Mental Awareness

“I tried to keep myself busy
I ran around in circle
Think I made myself dizzy
I slept it away, I sexed it away
I read it away
Away”

- Cranes in the Sky, Solange (2016). 

Cranes in My Sky

The Epiphany for Mental Health

Mental health. It is a term that elicits many responses. Some respond praising its recognition. Others see it as a ploy for weakness and feebleness. No matter what way it is received, there is a common denominator in all of the discussions – mental health exists.  While many people in today’s society live with increasing demands and are constantly bombarded with information, they are afflicted with conditions that the mind cannot readily sort. Chronic stress, anxiety, and desensitization permeate the landscape of mental health of people living in the 21st century. As technology has made our lives easier and tasks more efficient, humans are now tasked with working with machine-type pace and precision; always being on and ready to take on more. 

Moving away from the abstract and general, mental health is something that affects physical health. Speaking for myself, when my mental health starts to deteriorate, so does my physical health. One example is when I had to pay the emergency room a visit unexpectedly. Working tirelessly, stress, anxiety over completing 2 projects in one day caused me to have chest pains. It was later revealed that my blood pressure was 175/105. After a series of prior visits in which my blood pressure had come back high and recently having tension headaches, it was a wake-up call. I had to start addressing some of the serious issues affecting my mental health or at 24, or pay the ultimate price. 

The reason why it took me to long to seek help was repetitious reinforcements about how seeking help would make me appear feeble. In the legal profession, many attorneys shy away from talking about mental health as much as they do about substance abuse. In the Black community, seeking help is a sign of weakness and a failure to have a connection with  God. In essence, your mental health is tied to prayer and if you fail to pray, you end up with mental defects because you did not do your due diligence. In American society, talking about mental health is a recent phenomenon where people openly talk about it. In my early teen years (only a decade ago), it was still a relatively mum topic for discussion. These experiences and viewpoints created a cognitive dissonance, where I felt it was best to work through it, be strong, and ignore all of what was going on, with the hope that things would improve.

Prior to me starting law school, I did not have anxiety issues. And while things were stressful at times, chronic stress was unknown to me. During undergrad, there were times where things were “tight,” but I managed to make them work. Even when I was stressed out, I had a network of close friends that helped me channel my energies into hobbies, activities, or just plain discussions which would end in laughs. To some degree, there was balance and my mental state was reflective of that. 

Law school, however, caused a marked shift. Everything upon moving to Georgia, was stress -creating. School, by itself, was and still is, stressful. The career flubs and failures also took its toll. Paired with poor sleeping, eating, and self-care habits my body started to shut down... slowly but surely I landed in the hospital. Now, I am 76 days away from walking across the stage at graduation and I am in the process of addressing problems that have aggregated over the course of the last year. I am trying to take back my life and seize it. One of the ways I've decided to regain control over my life is by exercising control over my mental health. 

Taking control of your mental health is hard. It is seemingly hard as hell. Yet, it is doable. The first thing I did to gain control over my mental health was to start saying "No." Saying "No" (notice, I'm saying it with a capital 'N') is important because you can make your spaces exclusive; you can let people know that they cannot impose. Saying "No" also means that you can become the master of your own time and not accept the terms and conditions that others decide to impose on you. Saying "No." is mentally liberating; the epitome of taking control of yourself. 

The second thing I did to start taking control of mental health was seeking help. I know that in some circles seeking professional help is not popular. However, after I've witnessed people take their own lives, steep themselves into addiction, and lose themselves – I decided to not fall into the trap. I sought counseling, and since I have started, things have started to smooth out some. Had I decided to listen to the status quo and not seek help, I would have been mentally destroyed and beyond the point of repair. 

The third thing I started to do is take mental health days. Some people don't care that you need days where you are unplugged from society. Since people want to bombard you without care to your capacity and sensibilities, you need to either make the time or take the time to re-center. Find a weekend day where you do nothing. No phone calls, no reviewing emails, no projects – just relaxation with a good book and a warm bath. I've started to incorporate it into my weekly schedule where I have one day where no business is transacted. If someone has something to say about it: I treat it the same way they consider my mental health at the time - I reciprocate my lack of concern or care. The message I send is "apologies for the inconvenience, but business will continue at [insert set time]." Creating a hard limit like this may break friendships and associateships, yet it is necessary to safeguard my mind from over-exertion. 

The last thing I am doing to help my mental health and feeding myself affirmation. Two of my fraternity brothers here in Atlanta had a talk to me about trying to reframe my thinking. They told me to take up daily affirmations. The affirmations are written on my mirror, and I read them every morning when I walk into the bathroom to start getting ready for the day. Before I wash, before I dress, and before I cologne myself – I try to pour back into myself positivity that has long been overdue. 

Overall, your mental health should not be ignored. It should be treated the same way as anything else that is central to living. Mental heatlh is the gateway to physical wellness and balance. Without properly taking care of our mental health, we fall victim to silent killers which can destroy us faster than anything manmade. Ultimately, it is up to us to draw lines in the sand, say "No,"and take time for ourselves to truly re-center, and in turn, flourish. 

Don't Be Like Me: A Gift from Mistakes Lived

Don't Be Like Me

 A Gift from Mistakes Lived

"Listen, don't be like me...." That is the normal way how I frame most of the advice I give nowadays. 

Some look at me when I say it and say "why are you so self-deprecating?" However, I am not. I am providing advice in a way that is saying: "I've done it this way, and I am a living example of the results... do not do it." In telling others "don't be like me," it frames the reality of a world where people's experiences will vary wildly even in the same place. 

To provide context, I started to say "Don't be like me" when I started to give advice to my younger colleagues in law school. During the start of my last academic year, I began to be very open and transparent about my situation and also the reasons why I am in that situation. What was the situation you may ask? I had (and still do have) a low GPA, job prospects looked extremely frigid, and it was the first inkling where I started to look at the prospect of returning home to Philadelphia following law school. 

When 1L students talk to me about their nervousness, anxieties, and fears, I always shoot back with "Don't be like me." Most times I get "what do you mean? You're a 3L, you're nearly done. You couldn't possibly be that bad off." 

I respond in true transparent fashion explaining several things. 

First, I usually tell 1L students not to be like me because I do not want them to be fearful and doubtful. When I first entered law school, I was fearful of failing and doubtful that I had the intellect to make it. That lack of confidence set me up for a world of trouble. I do not want them to become broken people merely trying to seek accolades for a confidence boost. I want them to enjoy the experience in any way they can. 

Next, I say "don't be like me" when 1L students say that they are not taking care of themselves and stressing themselves out beyond what is physically and psychologically healthy. The reason: because I am dealing currently with the net results of pushing myself beyond the bounds of what is necessary and reasonable. The results have left me with health issues of both the mental and physical variety, some of which will take upwards of a year to resolve fully. I do not want students to foster an attitude that self-care if not important and that taking a day or a couple hours is sometimes better than popping an Adderall to "work through it and burn the midnight oil."  

Lastly, I caution the 1L students shouldn't "be like me"  because I walked in only appreciating one model of success. Currently, that model of success that I once held is now next to unattainable. So I tell them to be flexible and not to be disappointed when the six-figure job does not provide them an offer upon first blush. One thing about youth is that it is fleeting, but the second thing is that with it there are so many things you can do. In being "younger," you are allowed to get away with asking certain questions and making certain mistakes. In doing so, having extra potential paths of success are always encouraged and should be nurtured. Crushing dreams does not help focus someone, it merely damages their dignity and confidence in ways that one cannot describe. 

To say the least, I struggle to keep honest with those around me. However, I do not want the same state of affairs to befall anyone else that comes after me. While I may not be any material help in terms of helping underclassmen get good grades, or be of any help with certain professors, I seek to be helpful in allowing them to know not to fall into some of the pitfalls I've become victim to. These pitfalls that I am warning them about are bigger than any GPA or accolade, it is about helping them retain a sense of humanity and dignity in a time where just the sheer difficulty of it can strip those things away. 

While it is true that we learn from our successes, we also learn ample from our failures. In learning from our failures, it is important to impart those lessons to those who are next in line to prevent them from making the same fatal mistakes.  I may not be the valedictorian, order of the coif, or a MENSA member. However, I do know that I have learned a lot merely by having made a plethora of mistakes and am currently paying the cost of fixing them.

So if I say "don't be like me." I am not self-deprecating; I am trying to gift you a lesson, without you having to go through the pain to get it. 

(c) ifw - 2017

Truths as the Grand Finale Approaches

Truths as the Grand Finale Approaches

Today, I registered for my final semester of law school classes. It was a moment of bittersweetness. However, in that bittersweetness, the sweetness outweighed the bitter. I realized that I was ending a journey that has managed to change me to my core. The end of the destructive force I had to face was coming to an end. 

As you read this, this is a moment where I am going to be transparent. I do not seek pity. I do not want to enter the oppression Olympics. However, I do want to share my state of mind and reach others that feel like they are in a similar place. It may appear like I am "bitching" or "complaining" - however, I am not. What I am doing is providing a testimony and a warning for others out there to avoid being in my situation. It may not be the prettiest story, but it is mine. 

Recognizing the Truth

When I moved to Atlanta and started to attend Emory in the fall of 2015, I was fresh out of undergrad. In my freshness, I felt like I could take on the world. Vexingly, over the course of the last two and a half years, I have become a shell of what was. The only quality I maintain is my ability to be raw and honest about my problems and opinions. As the grand finale approaches, I realize that the realities of the world edge closer. In those realities edging closer, I realize that I am ill-prepared.

Law school was sold to me as a game of discipline. If you discipline yourself, if you work hard, if you take the Adderall - you'll excel. After 5 semesters of trying my hardest, putting in 200%, and losing it all in the process - I realized that the idea of this being a game of mere discipline was a beautiful lie. Law school is not a place where a discipline-only approach wins the day. In addition to discipline, it is about politics, your willingness to bear your soul with reckless abandon, and luck. As hard of a pill as it is to swallow, I've forged onwards in this journey with the wrong approach only to find myself worse off than how I started. Worse yet, in my 3L year, I still do not know how to master the game to secure a successful ending.

While I started with merely a bachelors of arts and limited job experience, my outlook on life and confidence were at an all-time high. I was optimistic that my life was going to amount to something greater than a piece of paper – that I could meet mostly all challenges as Christ was my guide. But with the wearing winds of the legal institution, I have been left skeletal. 

The Change in Morale

Most of my friends who are in law school with me have probably noticed the slide in my confidence and demeanor over the last year and some change. The reason is that I am realizing how much I lost. I lost financial security in the sense that I've acquired a mountain of debt in a high-risk job market. I have lost my mental health because I have become chronically ridden with anxiety. I have lost my physical health because I have become corpulent, hypertensive, and subject to constant gastro-intestinal upset. I am unable to sleep well. I lost the intellectual confidence that has been the cornerstone of the excellence that propelled me onto this stage. Worst of all, I've lost hope and faith. 

It is a sad state of affairs and as of now, there is nothing left for me to do except to finish this self-imposed mission. Even as I take the final steps in the journey, there is so much uncertainty. On the eve of character and fitness being due, I'm missing vital things to help me make decisions on where I want to practice. Even worse, I am fresh off of losing a six-figure job offer because my skills were deemed subpar. I have yet to rebound, and it is not for lack of trying. 

As of now, I withhold my tears. Why you may ask? I walked the plank with my eyes somewhat wide open. I knew that law school was going to be hard. I knew that getting a job in the legal profession was going to be difficult as well. What came as a shock was how much destruction came from this process. It was even more shocking how even after following "the keys to success" and "taking tried and true advice," I ended up in such dire straits. It also was shocking how certain crude advice (such as dropping out because my grades were too low) actually made sense at many different points. 

Well, What Now? - Some Solutions

Well after looking this, one would probably be wondering "well... what now?" I thought I had an answer for this several times. But alas, like the well of confidence, the well of answers has run dry. I have made many plans in my tender years. However, for some reason, plans regarding law school fail in a spectacular fashion. So, I have decided that I am going to stop planning and setting goals and let things happen. There is no floor to hold things up, and no walls to hold things in regarding what can happen regarding employment or academic prospects. 

Academic Approach

My grades will just "be." They will exist on my transcript as an indicator of how well I survived in a system where I have prior failed many times before. Gone are the days where perfection was attainable, and excellence was a norm. Now I have to accept that my new norm looks different. It's lamentable, but in order to regather myself, there is a good chance that my transcript may have already seen its last A. 

Personal Approach

At this point, I have to refocus on regaining everything I lost. 

I'm not talking about vanity either. I am talking about a basic sense of self that has been stripped from the moment I sat down and forced archaic jurisprudence down my throat. I have to regain that sense of personality that was beaten out of me when I was told that my prose had no place in a piece of legal writing and that my florid use of language was indicative of "legal illiteracy." In regaining things lost, it means performing some profound self-reflection and work.

It means going through the rough journey rebuilding confidence from the basement level. Never in my year of education was I told that I was inarticulate or that my analysis was incorrect on such a consistent basis. It was also rare that my work was deemed deficient. It also means rebuilding confidence to speak. Since my early childhood, many have stated that I was gifted with a natural public speaking ability. Law school has made me feel like I am the village idiot in cold-calls and during class discussions because of the ogling and stares I receive while sharing my extraction of the case. 

It means that I now must re-establish my identity as a person. The law school environment breeds a spirit of conventionalism that sterilizes almost every aspect of a person. Away from the casebooks, the business cards, the charcoal grey suits, and a persona centered around finely crafted business introductions, I should be able to answer simple questions about myself. As it stands now I can't. In re-establishing my identity I can discover my interests and answer honestly and unapologetically about them. 

It means regaining myself as a commodity. I need to learn how to make myself a primary investment both time and resource wise. I should not be giving out whatever bits of talents I have left to those that do not appreciate them or will denigrate them at any opportunity. It also means saying "No."  with a readiness unimagined by the modern person who is desperate for a job. I have learned that in saying "Yes," I have not ended up in any better a position that has said "No." As a matter of fact, it's been the opposite. People that availed themselves of the word "No." have had an easier time with finding their happiness, finding employment, retaining their confidence, and being focused on the game that is law school and the entry to legal practice.

Conclusion

In the end, I write this to all of those out there who are starting the journey in law school or legal practice. I have failed immensely and am finally aware of it in the 11th hour. The only thing I can do is hope that I land on my feet and in one cognizable piece. For 1st year, 2nd year, or pre-law students you have time on your side to craft your own happy ending. You also have time to escape the traps that the institution will have you fall into. Drinking at every bar review is not going to solve your core problems. Concerta or Adderall will not save you from this feeling.

I say these things in short:

Remain truthful.

Do not let your confidence slip into nothingness.

Do not lose yourself or your soul in the process.

You are your most important commodity - so respect yourself as such. 

Say no when necessary. 

Remember that the calculus is not as simple as it seems.

(c) ifw

2017