It would be difficult to determine what stressors ultimately lead an attorney down the path of self-destruction, but is likely a series of events that takes the stress and depression to a level that results in death whether by suicide, drug overdose or engaging in other reckless behavior. There are so many, many theories.
Yvette Hourigan, Director of the Kentucky Lawyers Assistance Program, wrote an article in the September/October 2015 issue of the KBA’s Bench & Bar magazine titles, “The Cumulative Cost of Caring.” I found this article in Luke’s folder which he was compiling for his blog. In her article she writes about Compassion Fatigue, which is defined as the “cumulative physical, emotional and psychological effects of being continually exposed to traumatic stories or events when working in a helping capacity.” In other words, attorneys act as caregivers who are assisting clients in dealing with traumatic events, even though we are not trained as “caregivers.”
One of the areas of practice where this is most common is Family Law. There is a reason that I stopped practicing family law more than ten years ago. In litigation involving divorce, custody, visitation and even termination of rights, raw emotion plays a greater role in the decision-making process than any other area of practice. In other words, rational thinking plays a small role. Expectations that our clients will follow our best advice are minute.
Despite the fact that I avoided family law, I receive calls every week seeking representation on Family Court matters. Shortly after Luke was admitted to the bar, I asked him if he was willing to take on these cases. He seemed eager to have his own clients and venture into the courtroom. He was successful in his very first appearance in Family Court where he convinced Judge Squire Williams that his client had not committed domestic violence.
He even began representing some of his friends on custody issues. We had a discussion about a situation where both parents were abusing drugs and neither was the appropriate custodial parent for their minor child. There was a sense of anger toward the parties.
He also had to rescue a friend who had tried to do a pro se divorce. Their case was ultimately dismissed and Luke got it reinstated and helped them get their final decree. That lead him to write a satirical piece on the nonsense of the pro se divorce and how the parties seldom fared well. At some point I will share that here.
Starting in my early years of practice in Kenton County, I began handing public defender cases. Kenton County had a roster system where most private attorneys who were not prosecutors would be assigned cases. Some were brutal, such as my Percodan addicted client who tried to sell his 3-year-old daughter to get money for drugs. The purchasers were investigators from the Office of the Attorney General. When Bob Carran called with the assignment, he said I could turn it down, but I have always believed that everyone charged with a crime is entitled to representation. That was my responsibility. I guess I was lucky to be more impervious to the stressors than many of my brethren. Rather than disgust, I felt the need to help.
Luke was different though. While he had seen the way his fellow soldiers were treated and wanted to guarantee them a fair shake, there were situations that he was not comfortable in defending someone he felt was not honorable. Several years ago I was retained to represent a 17-year-old who was charged with incest. Luke assisted me with the research but I could see that the facts really bothered him to the point that he did not want to be involved.
Earlier this year Luke handled a divorce and child custody hearing. He was well prepared with his questions and strategy, but in the courtroom self-confidence was missing. It was as if he felt sorry for the opposing party and did not want to be aggressive in his questioning. At times his questions came out barely more audible than a whisper.
We as attorneys deal with factual situations that are often stranger than fiction. And we are expected to do it without it affecting who we are and how we go about our lives. Our compassion thus can be our downfall. If we feel too much, if we carry the burden of our client’s trauma or even that of the opposing party or victim, it can place a heavy strain on us. Whether it be compassion fatigue or empathy or guilt or disgust, it weighs heavy on our psyche.
Shortly before his death Luke made a comment to one of his friends about the “stress of the courtroom.” He never openly shared that thought with me. He was looking for ways to overcome that stress or numb it down without seeking assistance or guidance from me or his counselors at the VA Hospital. Keeping it inside is what can damage or destroy us. We as attorneys must open up, tell our stories and know that we are not alone.
You write extremely well. You have opened my eyes to the considerable need for support within the much maligned and under appreciated legal profession.