For those of you who follow me on social media, you may have witnessed a rather emotional video I posted a few weeks ago. (If you haven’t seen it, click HERE) I had just finished a hearing where I represented a mother and father trying to get guardianship over their son on an emergency basis in order to prevent him from killing himself. I presented a very strong case and won; and my client was able to place her son in a mental health facility. This hearing came one day after the funeral for my friend’s son who unfortunately did succeed and was just 20 years old. I interrupted the interpreter during the hearing so many times (by accident) and I apologized to the court and explained why I was off. After logging off from the hearing, I lost it… emotionally and mentally. Her loss (and my client’s emotional state) affected me so deeply and so I decided that I would not work the rest of the day nor on Friday and would concentrate on getting myself back to neutral at least. At 41 years old, I am finally able to point out when I’m about to reach my breaking point and take a time out from life, because the alternative isn’t an option for me.
After collecting myself after the anxiety attack that ensued after the hearing, I took a hot shower, ordered some comfort food, and hung out with my husband the rest of the day who recognized my need for love and peace. The next day I did a hair mask, two face masks and gardening. I also read a detailed astrological report on me and on my company that I paid for a month ago but never made the time to read.
Why am I going on and on about all the things I did on my days off? Because self-care is not a luxury; it is survival. Because healing is not a linear process — it’s a series of small, stubborn choices: a hot shower when your chest feels tight, a quiet lunch with someone who knows you, a hair mask that feels silly and human, a garden that reminds you seasons change. Those tiny rituals gave me enough of a tether to come back to my work and to myself. They did not fix everything — they just kept me breathing long enough to keep going.
And here’s the other thing I need you all to hear: mental health doesn’t happen only in therapists’ offices. It happens in our courtrooms, in our conference rooms, in the break room, at the kitchen table before a 9 a.m. call. It happens when someone on your team starts missing meetings or when a normally chatty coworker goes quiet. It happens when a client’s crisis follows you home and sits at the edge of your attention like a heavy rain cloud. We all carry storms — and sometimes we need other people to hand us an umbrella.
Because it’s September — Suicide Prevention Month — I want to be blunt and practical for a moment. Employers: you have the power to save lives by creating workplaces that notice and respond. Train managers to recognize warning signs (withdrawal, sudden changes in performance or sleep, talk of hopelessness), make mental health days a real benefit, invest in Employee Assistance Programs, and normalize asking for help. Simple policy changes — flexible deadlines when someone is struggling, private conversations without stigma, clear information about resources — are not “extras.” They are part of keeping your people safe and your organization healthy.
I share my story because I want us to stop treating mental health like a private shame and start treating it like workplace safety. Be the kind of leader who looks up from the email to ask, “Are you okay?” Be the kind of teammate who notices and shows up. And be the kind of human who knows it’s brave to step back and heal.
We cannot unmake every tragedy. But we can make our workplaces kinder, our conversations braver, and our help easier to reach. That matters. It saves lives. Thank you.
