Storyteller: Michael Herman
Michael is a strong advocate for mental health & wellness at Gowling WLG and within the broader legal community. Through his ongoing work to raise awareness & eliminate stigma, he hopes to make it easier for anyone experiencing mental illness to come forward and seek help without fear of judgment.
This story was originally published in Issue 3 of Lamplight. Lamplight is an Unsinkable publication designed to be a home for mental health care providers. It’s published digitally throughout the year, and once in print every October 13th.
Hitting The Wall
For most of my life, I’ve wrestled with anxiety and depression as my constant companions. I became very good at “pushing through” during the hardest times until I finally crashed into a wall: severe depression.
It began with small, nagging physical ailments that lingered for months. I felt completely drained, unable to focus or concentrate on anything. I decided to take what I thought would be a short leave of absence from work to rest, address the physical ailments and quickly feel better.
Each morning, as soon as I woke up, I fell into a deep, dark hole. No light entered that hole, and there seemed to be no way out. Every day felt like falling into the abyss all over again. Some days, I felt nothing - no emotion, no interest, no reaction to anything. At other times, I felt a profound sadness that hurt more than any physical pain I had ever experienced. On rare occasions, I felt as if I had buried alive, consumed by fear and panic.
Yet I continued to focus on the physical symptoms until one beautiful early summer morning. I was standing on my balcony drinking a cup of coffee looking out over a sunny view of Toronto and the ravine that backs onto our condo. Suddenly, I had a thought: “What’s the point? What’s the point?” It seemed to come out of nowhere. It so unnerved me that I reflexively staggered off the balcony, back into my apartment.
I realized in that moment that my issues were not primarily physical; rather, I was experiencing acute depression. If I was going to get better, I needed to focus on my mental health.
That realization marked the beginning of a different kind of journey, one toward recovery, one that will last a lifetime. That journey includes opening doors that I had kept shut. One of the most important led to how I process “control”. The key has been learning to identify, and live guided by, my core values.
Tyranny of Control
I’m a Type A personality — driven to succeed, often at the expense of my own health and well-being. I’m also a perfectionist, afraid of making mistakes, even though I know that everyone will make many. Deep down, I worry that people will discover I’m not as competent or confident as I appear. I fear being exposed as a fraud or a phony. (Did I hear someone say, “imposter syndrome?”)
To protect myself, I often try to please others, even when it’s not in my best interest. Why? Because I want to control how others see me, what they think of me. The problem is that this strategy requires constant vigilance, as if exposure could happen at any moment.
When I stop and think about it, I know there are countless things I simply cannot control. (1) Yet somewhere in the background, my mind insists that if I can just plan enough, perform enough, or worry enough, I can bend the future to my will.
But when I fixate on outcomes that depend on forces beyond my control, life inevitably refuses to follow my script. My thoughts spiral into a “what if” loop: What if I fail? What if I disappoint? What if I can’t handle what comes next? It’s exhausting. And it’s a loop that leads not to safety, but to self-blame, shame, and fear of the future. In my case, it eventually led to severe and debilitating depression.
Even insignificant interactions can send me spiralling. I remember an incident when someone in authority criticized me in an email and during a virtual call. He said I had not provided him with material information about a particular problem he was handling with my assistance. I knew rationally that the criticism was probably unwarranted. However, that evening I spent hours ruminating about whether I had provided the information, how I could have avoided the criticism and worrying about whether I had lost this person’s trust and respect. As my thoughts looped repeatedly, I started blaming and judging myself. “I should have handled it better.” “I’m such an idiot.” “I shouldn’t be thinking this way.” I became more anxious and upset. I could not let it go, stop the thoughts or fall asleep. Seemingly minor incidents like this occurred with regularity, each one adding to the toll on my mental and physical health. (2)
Guided by Values
Wisdom teachers through the ages have emphasized the importance of living in alignment with one’s values. Unfortunately, many of us, including me, have struggled to heed their lessons.
During my recovery, I realized I needed to stop trying to control outcomes. I wanted to find a path to what Tara Brach, meditation teacher and psychologist, calls “enoughness.” (3)
I began to explore consciously living in alignment with my core values. (4) I don’t mean lofty ideals or abstract words on a page, but deeply personal principles that reflect who I most want to be: integrity, kindness, compassion, humility, curiosity, and authenticity. (5) I fail to live up to these values more often than I care to admit. Yet unlike trying to control outcomes, values provide a framework for a life I can influence. I cannot guarantee that others will appreciate my effort, projects will succeed, or life will be easy. But I can choose to act with integrity, treat others with respect and kindness, and remain curious, humble, and open-minded.
Shifting from controlling results to committing to values means accepting the uncertainty of outcomes and recognizing that what truly matters is how I show up. It means asking myself: Can I be vulnerable enough to set my own course and live in alignment with my values, even when I fail or face difficulty?
“I realized that sharing my experience publicly was the right choice for me, even though it was still frightening.”
For example, when I decided to publicly share my experience with anxiety and depression, I had no idea how people would react. It was a difficult choice. By focusing on my values, I realized it was the right decision for me. It was still frightening, and I still cared about how others might perceive me.
I can recall the first time I shared my story with everyone in my firm. I had been asked to send a blast email encouraging participation in a mental health initiative. I decided this was a perfect opportunity to tell people why it was personally important to me. I was at home with the email open on my laptop. I held the cursor over the Send button for what seemed like five minutes asking myself whether I was going to very publicly expose my experience with severe depression. But I knew I was doing what felt true to myself and could live with the consequences. I pressed Send.
I’m learning that my worth isn’t measured by whether things go well, but by the intention I bring to what I do. I still set goals and tackle challenges. On days when depression or anxiety whispers that I am failing, I pause and ask whether I am acting in alignment with my values. If I’m not, I can course correct, doing my best to be consistent with those values — and know that is always enough.
Changing the Script
We live in a time when levels of anxiety, depression, burnout, substance misuse, and other mental health challenges are rising sharply. I’m not an expert, but I believe our hyperfocus on material and individual success as a measure of worth is a major contributor. Society, social media, schools, and workplaces all tell us that only outcomes matter. How well can we keep out of the abyss? Can we worry enough to avoid criticism? Can we perfectly prepare for the response to sharing our truth with our coworkers?
Our shared truths are that we never know the outcome and that we’re all in this together. I share my story with you from the perspective of a lawyer, but is it so different from that of another profession? From yours?
But if we pause, step back, and consider our core values, we can change the script. It sounds simple, but if you are like me, it isn’t easy.
My journey toward recovery has been messy and imperfect, full of stumbles, setbacks, and small victories. Recovery will always be a work in progress, but my values provide a grounded and hopeful path forward.
“Recovery will always be a work in progress, but my values provide a grounded and hopeful path forward.”
NOTES
(1) Paraphrasing The Serenity Prayer, I suspect many of us wish we could focus more conscious and deliberate effort on what we can control, accepting the things we can’t and trying to develop the wisdom required to know the difference.
(2) The next morning the person apologized to me for his inappropriate criticism.
(3) Brach writes: “I have discovered that enoughness has absolutely zero to do with accomplishing, nothing to do with achieving and is not at all about trying to be good enough.” To Brach, all of us are inherently “enough.”
(4) Certain therapies that have proven quite effective in the treatment of depression and anxiety, including Cognitive Behavioural Therapy and Acceptance Commitment Therapy, incorporate identifying one’s values into the therapeutic process.
(5) These are my core values. Each of us must determine what are the most important values to us. I also realize that while certain values may be constant, others may change based on our life circumstances.
