Monday 30 March 2009

The Beautiful City

The lack of a blog entry for the last few days is because on Wednesday I travelled to London to attend two meetings, and on Thursday and Friday I was too busy catching up with the emails and messages from Wednesday. Still, it was nice to get out of the office for a day.

If you work in London every day you may not have noticed recently that it is a stunning city. The first of the meetings I attended was in a glorious old building in Westminster, inside which was a modern law firm. Getting there involved me walking past the Houses of Parliament. Whatever your opinion of what goes on inside it, the building itself is beautiful. I walked past Westminster Abbey, which was also breathtaking. It was almost strange to see so many busses, taxis, cars and people plodding blithely past as though there was nothing to stop and stare in wonder at. Happily, of course, there were also plenty of tourists stopping and staring. I’ve lived in the South East for many years, and been to London many times, but luckily I’m not yet at the stage where all the amazing ancient architecture is just some blargh background to my life.

I was reminded on the way home that wonderful historic structures are not confined to London. Walking back from Rayleigh Station I passed “The Round House” which is indeed circular and is dated “1615”. And last weekend we drove through the Suffolk village of Somerleyton which seemed to consist of a handful of beautiful whitewashed thatched cottages set around a village green, and a large manor house in extensive gardens.

One thing which struck me in London as being different from, say, America, is that our historic buildings are still in use. The Houses of Parliament are the seat of government, religious worship still takes place in Westminster Abbey, The Round House had a Vauxhall Corsa parked outside and milk bottles on the doorstep, so evidently it still lived in, and Somerleyton has a thatched primary school. There has been a lot of fuss recently about the demolition of a village to make way for Heathrow’s eighteenth runway (or whatever, I can’t keep up). The village apparently includes a sixteenth-century pub. Can you imagine a sixteenth-century pub in America being razed to make way for an airport? But because sixteenth-century pubs are ten a penny here it seems that losing one doesn’t matter.

We take our history and gorgeous architecture very much for granted here, and we shouldn’t. Britain is a very beautiful country and we need occasionally to stop and appreciate it. So if you work in the City, take a moment today to look around and reflect on the astonishing beauty that surrounds you, and the history in those walls. It might help put your ever-expanding to-do list into perspective.

Tuesday 24 March 2009

What a Waste - Giving Up Gracefully

I have already mentioned that I have a neat little sideline writing novels. I have written about eight of them, three of which have even been published. Writing a novel takes a very long time, a lot of effort, frustration and determination, but at least four of the manuscripts on which I toiled, over which I shed tears and through which I tried to express part of myself, will never been seen in print. I am resigned to viewing them as practice pieces on which I honed my skills and learned my art.

Two days ago I added another to my “Archive” folder. My latest effort, tentatively titled Kept in Trust, was gradually being reworked into my next submission. However, having spent four months trying to rework it into something viable, I have come to the conclusion that it is dull, predictable, and beyond redemption, and I’ve given up on it. I don’t like it, and I’m the author, so why should I expect the public to buy it? If a writer’s novels are indeed our precious children then I have just committed the cardinal sin of abandoning this one on the steps of the orphanage because, quite frankly, I don't feel I can help it reach its potential and give it the love, time and dedication it deserves. I have spent years working on this manuscript, usually labouring late at night after the children have gone to bed when all sane people are watching Desperate Housewives with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s. It was all in vain. But part of being a writer, I think, is knowing what isn't good and being prepared to let it go, however much you have sweated over it.It’s not easy to admit that something wasn’t worth the effort you put into it. Something we hear often at LawCare is “I spent years qualifying as a solicitor, and I mustn’t waste that time, effort and money, however much I find I hate my job.” There are two points to consider here:
Time spent in education, or gaining experience, is never wasted.
It’s better to give up and move on than waste any more time being unhappy.

I have now started working on a new novel which I am excited about, and which is stretching my abilities and inspiring me as I write it. Sometimes, giving up on a lost cause is the right thing to do.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Barristers Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Monday 23 March 2009

Autumn Attitude

Today is Hubby Dearest’s 40th Birthday. I celebrated – if that’s the right word – this milestone six months ago, and it’s somewhat depressing to know that when my novel tops the bestseller lists, no one is going to say “And she’s so young!” as I had once dreamed.

I commented to my husband at the time that I felt I was now at the Autumn of my life. Spring is 0-20, the years of gambolling lambs, budding beauty and moments of tentative brightness. Summer is from 20-40, when the flowers are in full glorious bloom, life abounds, and the sunshine is perpetual and confident. (Please remember that this is a metaphor and not in any way based on the reality of the British Summer.)

Autumn is those years from 40-60 when things become colder, plans have to be abandoned because of rain, and inexorable night draws ever nearer. As for Winter – well, I’ll expound on that particular misery twenty years from now.

My husband responded to these words by pointing to his full head of hair and saying “Do I look as though the leaves are falling off?” I resisted the urge to point out that they were definitely changing colour.

There are benefits to age, however. For most people (although not me) it means that the children are reaching independence, and so you (still not me) have time to do all those fun things you always wanted to. Your legal career is probably well established, and with it your financial security, enabling you to afford to do all them. And it’s still only Autumn, so you may even have the health and energy to do them. If you’ve spent your best Summer years focusing on your career, or your family, or both, perhaps a big birthday might be what you need to realise that time is moving on, and it may be time for you to congratulate yourself on your achievements and start concentrating on doing things for yourself for a change. After all, I may be old now, but I’m still worth it.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Thursday 19 March 2009

Seeing a Solicitor

For reasons I have explained here before, I am the only member of LawCare’s team who is not a qualified lawyer. Even before I was subjected to the problems of members of the legal profession on a daily basis I was never interested in being a lawyer. I don’t have the personality for it. But that’s OK, because luckily thousands of other great people do.

For years, when telling people that I help lawyers for a living, I have been met with a raised eyebrow which implies “Why bother? Who cares about lawyers?” Lawyers seem to rank just above Estate Agents, Insurance Salesmen and Drug Dealers in the public popularity polls. But I think lawyers are wonderful. Yes, read it again, I really did say that.

Why do I think that? Because I have had occasion to consult one. The first time – when I bought my first house – I barely remember. The second time was in 2004 when I divorced my first husband, sold the marital home, divvied up the proceeds and bought another 300 miles away (from him). The solicitor who kept me appraised of progress every step of the way and reassured me through the whole traumatic experience was a lovely young lady, five years qualified, and her bill came to just a shade over £500. As I said to my newly-ex husband on receiving it, “If I’d known it was going to be this cheap I’d have divorced you years ago.”

Two weeks ago I met with another solicitor to discuss transferring property assets into a company. Again I had picked the firm at random from the Yellow Pages, but once again I received superb service from an extremely knowledgeable partner whose expertise in such matters enabled my shiny new husband and I to save £27,000 by spending just £300 on his fee.

Have I been extraordinarily lucky in finding two such excellent solicitors? I don’t think so. I think the majority of lawyers work hard at what they do and take pride in giving good service. Maybe the problem is that, almost by definition, their work involves dealing with people at vulnerable and difficult times, and such people are not always the most rational or understanding. Maybe there is a small minority who are lazy, incompetent, careless or swindling and they give the rest of the profession a bad name. That’s a real pity. Because my experience is that lawyers are wonderful. And although I never wanted to be one, I salute those of you who are. You do important work, and, for the most part, you do it extremely well.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Wednesday 18 March 2009

Fun with Depression

I’ve just had a great deal of fun researching and writing an article on treatment for depression. You’d think it would be a depressing subject – finding out exactly why taking antidepressants makes people more susceptible to suicide, for example – but actually it was fascinating. (For the record: two of the main symptoms of clinical depression are lack of motivation and desperate black mood. So severely depressed people consider suicide but don’t actually have the energy to do it. Antidepressants tend to alleviate the apathy a few weeks before they raise the mood, and it’s during that time that some patients find that they do have the oomph required to kill themselves.)

I’m an English graduate, and writing is my thing. I love it in any form, from writing articles on depressing subjects, to writing this blog. I even get a kick out of compiling my shopping list. The day I spent writing the article left me wondering why I get paid for doing my job, rather than having to pay LawCare for the privilege. I learned that something that is very beneficial in treating depression, is to spend time doing things you enjoy – writing articles, in my case, apparently, but I might also list eating sushi, watching science fiction and having very hot bubble baths until I look like a steaming prune.

Of course, it might have made more sense had the article said “doing things you used to enjoy, before depression stopped you enjoying anything.” Depression robs people of their passion and zeal too. We frequently hear helpline callers say that they used to love the challenge and stimulation of working in the law, but now they find it pointless and no longer care. It’s not always changes in the profession or their working environment which are to blame – sometimes the extreme stress they have been under has led to symptoms of depression and their dream career no longer excites them.

Depression is a distressing illness which affects a quarter of us at some point in our lives. I’ve been lucky enough never to have experienced it, and I hope there will never come a time for me when researching and writing an article, whatever the subject, ceases to bring me pleasure.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Tuesday 17 March 2009

A Sobering Thought

"Top doctors" have been busy over the last couple of weeks. Last week one of them suggested introducing a tax on chocolate, since it is unhealthy. Then this week another suggested that alcohol should cost a minimum of 50p per unit. What a good idea, I thought (which was the opposite reaction to hearing of the suggested tax on chocolate, but I'm ready to wallop anyone who points out the hypocrisy of my opinion). Not only would it cut the levels of binge drinking, when teenagers discovered that their two-litre bottle of Diamond White now costs £11, but they might actually do the maths and figure out that it must then contain 22 units of alcohol, and it probably isn't the best idea to drink the whole thing in one go. (Although if they are drinking Diamond White in the park, they probably aren't the type to be capable of doing the maths.)

I'm not one to get involved in politics much, but several years ago my alcoholic husband (now ex) and I went for a meal in a pub and each ordered a drink. His pint of beer was actually cheaper than my pint of Coke. I was so infuriated by this that I wrote to my MP explaining that pubs which charge that same or more for soft drinks than for alcoholic ones are actually encouraging drunkenness. My suggestion was that it be made mandatory for pubs to charge considerably less for non-alcoholic drinks than they did for alcoholic ones.

The MP was very good, bless him, and he contacted various departments including the DTI, but the reply was that it would not be suggested, basically because "we do not have price-fixing in this country." So I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that the idea to charge 50p per unit of alcohol was so firmly rejected.

All the same, it is worth knowing how many units of alcohol are in your drink, even if it's not reflected in the price. I recently revised LawCare's alcohol information pack and website pages, and checked the current safe levels of alcohol as recommended by the government. It is now 14 units for women, and 21 for men, spread throughout the week. More than this is considered harmful, and regularly drinking more than double this amount is classed as hazardous. (I would like to point out that these are limits, not targets, and that there is no such thing as drinking too little.)

I was troubled, then, by a conversation I had with an ordinary lawyer – not a helpline caller – who commented that many lawyers he knew were under great stress, and were in the habit of drinking a bottle or two of wine in the evening to unwind. A bottle of wine, I discovered, contains nine units. That means that a lawyer drinking just one bottle in front of the TV each evening is consuming three times the recommended amount over the course of a week. And if that lawyer happens to be female, it’s four and a half times the safe level.

How many bottles of wine have you opened this week?

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Monday 16 March 2009

My Name is Anna and I'm an Alcoholic

When I first joined LawCare, I did a test to find out whether I was an alcoholic. We had several variations of these in various heaps of paper round the office, and I thought it would be an interesting exercise. And it was. According to the results of the questionnaire, I can stand up in a forlorn group of people in a dingy church hall somewhere and declare “My name is Anna, and I’m an alcoholic.”

It’s quite a challenge, being able to do that. Especially when I haven’t had an alcoholic drink in about ten years. (Apart from one accidental occasion at a function where someone had ruined what I took to be perfectly good orange juice by adding champagne to it. Bleaugh!) Before that I had the occasional rum and coke (Essex girl, you understand) and sometimes a Baileys or an Irish coffee after a good curry. All told, my intake was probably two units a week. And ten years ago I gave up alcohol altogether for religious, moral and professional reasons. So why did this test show me to be an alcoholic?

The first question was “Do other people consider the amount of alcohol you drink to be normal?” Naturally I answered No. Most people think it is decidedly abnormal not to drink any alcohol at all. Another question was “Have you ever attended a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous?” When I first began working with alcoholics I attended an open meeting for the purposes of better understanding the programme. My “Yes” to that question, added to the “No” to the first question, netted me sufficient points to score in the range which indicated I had a drink problem.

But I’m not the only person who hasn’t touched a drop in years, and yet can still declare “My name is ____, and I’m an alcoholic.” Many people who have had an alcohol problem in the past but have overcome it will still refer to themselves as alcoholic. They might have been sober for 30 years, but they will still attend the occasional AA meeting and make that statement. Neither will they qualify it by saying that they have “recovered”. Instead, they “are recovering.” These people recognise that alcoholism, like diabetes, is lifelong and incurable and their “insulin” is never to drink alcohol again.

At LawCare we’ve mostly given up trying to define who is and isn’t alcoholic by means of complex questionnaires. Instead we prefer to speak of people who have “a drink problem” and that’s quite easy to define. If drinking is causing problems for you, and yet you continue to drink alcohol, you have a drink problem. Or, if you have a problem controlling your drinking, you have a drink problem. And if you have a drink problem, the first thing you need to do is to admit it. Try it now. “My name is _____ and I’m an alcoholic”. And try it on the phone to LawCare.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Barristers Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Thursday 12 March 2009

The Value of Volunteers

I may have mentioned before that LawCare is a very small team. Hilary is our Chief Executive, and she is the only full-time member of staff. Ann, Trish and Mary manage the helplines between them, and for five hours a day I do all the admin. - sending out information, putting together statistics, keeping the website up to date, and writing blogs.

As I write this it is mid-March and we have just opened our 115th case file for this year. Think about that for a moment. That’s over a hundred lawyers who, in just the last three months, have felt so distressed and despairing that they have called our helpline and asked us to support them. Many of them are suffering from clinical depression, several have been through some really tough and traumatic experiences. A fair few are drinking so much that they are starting to realise that they are alcoholic – and in many cases their wives, friends or colleagues have already called us, because they realised the individual was an alcoholic several months ago. In addition we have received several calls from ongoing cases from last year.

Ann, Trish and Mary each work 2½ days a week. If you’re sharp, you’ll be wondering how they manage to arrange counselling, treatment, and necessary support for all these people with so little time. And how, indeed, do they find the time to call all these people back week after week to check their progress, offer encouragement, look for warning signs and see what other support is needed?

The answer is that they are aided by 140 wonderful volunteers; lawyers across the UK and Ireland who have been through difficult times themselves, or who have a particular desire to help others, and willingly offer to help those who call us. The volunteers offer one-to-one support, friendship, and often the benefit of their experience. They also help me to keep case files up to date, and it is always good to have a report from a volunteer in which they detail the help they have given the person, and tell us that everything is now fine and that person has made a complete recovery or at least is enjoying a period of stability.

Whilst all we require of a volunteer is that they make regular contact with the person, several have gone the extra mile:

  • I heard recently from a volunteer supporting a particularly vulnerable solicitor. She phones her every morning to help her find the strength she needs to go through the day. She has been doing this for over a year, but is enjoying seeing the progress made.
  • We had one case where a volunteer, while talking to the incapacitated lawyer he was supporting, noticed a throwaway comment that there was no food in the cupboards. The volunteer paid for an online grocery delivery to be made to that person the next day.
  • One volunteer who was supporting an alcoholic lawyer drove him to the treatment centre, giving up his weekend to drive from London to Scarborough, just to be certain that he arrived safely.

Our volunteers are amazing, and they make all the difference. We couldn’t do it without them. Could you be a LawCare volunteer? Call 01268 771333 for more information, or go to www.lawcare.org.uk/volunteers.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Wednesday 11 March 2009

Keeping the Credit Crunch out of the Kitchen

I’m feeling smug again. Well, perhaps smug is too strong a word. With the recession officially upon us, I’ve been revising LawCare’s information pack about debt and financial problems, just to make sure it’s as good as it can be now that it’s going to be in more demand than usual. As I look over some of our case files and research the subject with agencies like National Debtline (0808 808 4000) it’s terrifying to see the desperate state some people end up in, often through no fault of their own. It leaves me feeling very relieved to have no debt at all (that’s right, not a penny). In fact, I can’t help thinking “there but for the grace of God go I.”

The funny thing is, in my case my escape from debt is largely due to the grace of God. I converted about fifteen years ago to a church whose leaders repeatedly insisted that we should avoid debt, and thus I have dutifully done so ever since. Our credit card (which we use only because of the perks which come with it) is paid off in full by direct debit each month. My car is an N-reg which I bought fourth-hand in cash. Most of our furniture was left to us by my grandmother when she died in 1991 and thus our sofa is older than my mother. As for my kitchen … my kitchen was built in the early eighties by the man who owned the house before us. It is, let’s say, a little dated. Not only that, but three cupboard doors are missing, and there are only two drawers left, one of which covers the Pyrex in the cupboard below it with little flakes of plastic from the runners each time we wrench it open.

But we have scrimped and saved for four years, and gone to Homebase (never again!) with real cash money, and bought a new kitchen. As I write this, our builder (who doesn't offer credit terms) is installing it. No "Buy now - Pay later" deals for us.

We regularly get door-to-door salesmen, attracted by the apparently lamentable state of our driveway or guttering. We tell them we’re saving up to the get the work done, and they cheerfully tell us that they can offer us credit. It’s extremely useful to be able to respond “Debt is against my religion.”

Most people, however, don’t have that restriction. If they want a new sofa (i.e., one that isn't 65 years old) and the shop offers interest free credit and nothing to pay for a year, they will take it. If they need a new kitchen, they will go ahead and buy it on credit. Advertisements tell them again and again that they need the latest games console, that the prices on these exotic holidays have been greatly reduced and they really must have one, or that they can spend up to £2,000 today in the catalogue. Everyone else seems to have these things, and they don’t see why they shouldn’t. They don't seem to realise that buying on the "Never-never" actually means paying on the "Always-always".

It’s tragic when it all falls apart, and I hope our “new improved” and FREE debt information pack will help lawyers who have innocently fallen victim to the credit trap. I had to put up with a yellow plywood kitchen for four years while we saved up for the new one, but rather that than still be despairing of paying for a custom built designer kitchen long after the novelty has worn off.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Tuesday 10 March 2009

Part of the Furniture

I have now been working for LawCare for over eleven years. That’s longer than my desk, since the original LawCare desk fell apart last week, so I now have a nice new one. Whilst no one can expect a job for life in the current economic climate, I am hopeful that I will be with LawCare as long as LawCare exists. I can't think of anything I would rather do - unless I can figure out a way of getting paid for being a housewife and mother.

Before I elaborate on what it means to be part of the furniture, perhaps I should go back and explain how I came to take this job. Barry Pritchard, a North Wales lawyer who also happened to be a long-term recovering alcoholic, got the job as LawCare’s first Co-ordinator in 1997, and was given an old Law Society computer which he set up in the corner of his kitchen on the now-deceased desk. During that first year he manned the telephone 24 hours a day – remember that mobile phone technology was in its infancy then – and received sixty calls from alcoholic solicitors. With very few volunteers, Barry mentored each person himself, researching, writing and sending them information and trying to arrange for them to receive the appropriate treatment.

After a year he realised he needed help, and advertised for a secretary. At the time I had been working for an alcoholic lawyer for several weeks having given up a good job as an estate agent in what I thought would be a step up. Seeing the letters arriving from Leamington Spa (where the Law Society’s disciplinary arm is based) and knowing that my Sole Practitioner boss was in the pub more often than he was in the office, I insisted on being paid in cash. I also found myself at the Job Centre during my lunch break.

I was invited for interview, and arrived at Barry’s beautiful old renovated cottage to be greeted by three very lively and large spaniels. I am allergic to dogs, but with the job of my dreams riding on this interview I made a big fuss of them all and put the sneezing down to a cold.

Starting a new job is always daunting. For several weeks you’re never quite certain of
what you’re doing, and I made my fair share of mistakes, including accidentally deleting the entire volunteers database. Luckily I had a print-out, so unbeknown to Barry I typed the whole thing back in again. We had about 30 volunteers then – we now have 150. (But we always need more! Call me if you are a lawyer and can help!)

Like many, my job was a precarious balancing act between doing tasks I knew I was supposed to do – typing up case notes – and taking some initiative to develop my role. Or, as others might have called it, getting too big for my boots. I was lucky – Barry was very amenable to suggestions and ideas, and so now, eleven years later, I have a job that I pretty much designed myself, and could do standing on my head with my eyes closed.

I am aware that I am very, very lucky. Many people within the legal profession are stuck in stressful jobs, bullying environments and offices where their ideas and input are not welcome. And many of them wonder about moving on, but doubt their ability to find anything suitable, or are too afraid of those first uncertain weeks of settling in. Among helpline callers there seems to be a “better the devil you know” ethos, whereby however bad things are, the big wide unknown world of the jobs market is even worse. One caller, who was being abysmally treated by her firm, and had been for several years, had never even considered the option of leaving because she’d been there ever since she qualified fifteen years ago, and … well … leave? After years of criticism, bullying and being expected to put in twelve-hour days her self-esteem was as low as her salary.

My advice if you find yourself in a similar situation: just do it. Get your CV up to date, research the market, and stroke the dogs. You too might end up with the job of your dreams.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Monday 9 March 2009

You're not too Super to get Addicted

I just watched the Will Smith film “Hancock”, just released on DVD. At the opening of the film, John Hancock is a down-and-out alcoholic. We first see him lying dirty and unshaven on a park bench surrounded by empty bottles. When he is woken up and alerted to some nefarious goings-on into which he really ought to intervene, he first needs to take a large swig from the bottle he had clasped in his hand as he slept. He then flies off, destroying the park bench in the process. One of the four questions in the CAGE test used to determine whether someone has an alcohol problem is whether they drink early in the morning, so Hancock was certainly an alcoholic by that definition.

What is an alcoholic? Dylan Thomas said, “An alcoholic is a man you don’t like who drinks as much as you do.” Many people calling LawCare’s helpline perceive an alcoholic to be someone wearing a grubby coat who lives in a doorway and swigs from a bottle of supermarket cider all day. Others are terrified that the term might apply to them, and come up with all sorts of reasons why it doesn’t, or give up alcohol for a week or so just to prove that they are not alcoholic. They don’t want to believe that addiction is something that can happen to them. But the fact is that anyone can be an alcoholic. Your senior partner. Your best friend. Your mother. You. You may be a high-flying successful lawyer, but Hancock demonstrates that even super heroes can be alcoholics, and you can’t get much more high flying than that.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Friday 6 March 2009

My Other Job

I’ve a confession to make – I’m moonlighting. Not content with working 25 hours a week for LawCare, I have been putting in some hours late at night on my second career as a writer. My third novel was published last November, my fourth is currently being evaluated by my publishers, and I am halfway through writing my fifth. I also recently had contributions published in two anthologies.

Much as I love working for LawCare (and you know that I do, because I have said as much here – try to keep up) I have wanted to be an “authoress” ever since my mother had told me that’s what lady writers are called. My life’s ambition was to get a novel published, and in 2000 I did. (This left me in need of a new life’s ambition, and I selected “Finish painting the bedroom”. As yet I have not achieved this.)

A recent article in the Law Society Gazette by fellow author Neil Rose so accurately described the dififculties faced by would-be authors that I felt moved to write a letter to the editor of the Gazette to say "Hear, hear". Essentially, the problem is that one is never enough, and it is just as difficult to get that fourth novel accepted as it is the first. I thought writing one book would be enough, but then I found I yearned to write another. So I did. And then other ideas for novels came along, so I wrote those too. I had always assumed that if you have had one book published, or even two, as I had, then you could pretty much write anything and “they” would publish it. Not so – my next three efforts were all rejected, leaving me feeling a bit of a fraud as a writer. My first two books are out of print, but if you scour EBay and Amazon for long enough you might find one.

The article also very succinctly mentioned a further isuse. If, like me, getting a novel published has been your life's ambition for a long time, there is an inevitable disappointment when you discover that actually it isn't "magical and life changing" (to quote the article). "It very quickly just becomes something you did." I do not command adulation in the streets, and have come to terms with the knowledge that while I am an "authoress", my real job is being LawCare's administrator. Whilst I do get some royalties from my writing, it's never going to be enough to pay the mortgage.

I still want to be an Authoress when I grow up, but in the meantime I am perfectly content helping lawyers to find their dream careers and realise all their ambitions.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Barristers Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland.

Thursday 5 March 2009

The Right Reply

How often has someone said something, and several minutes (or even months) after the event, you’ve thought of the perfect retort, a brilliant come-back which would not only dramatically make your point and utterly conclude the debate, but have everyone in earshot clutching their bellies, wiping away tears of hysterical laughter and marvelling at your wit?

Once – only once – in my life I have managed to say that perfect retort at exactly the time it was needed. It occurred soon after my first husband and I divorced and he was making plans to marry his long-term mistress. He wanted the children (8 and 4) to be bridesmaids, but, understandably, didn’t want me at the wedding and I didn’t want to be far from the girls, so we devised a careful plan which involved me dressing them in their beautiful gowns and dropping them off at the venue, then waiting in the car park with a book for three hours. He evidently felt a bit guilty at this arrangement because he asked me whether I was upset that he hadn’t invited me to his wedding.

“No dear,” I replied, cool as a cucumber, “I wish I hadn’t gone to your last one.”

LawCare’s Stress and Depression pack contains a page of advice on saying exactly the right thing at the right time, but in this case, that thing is one word – “No.” It seems to be the hardest thing of all to say, because many helpline callers tell us in despair that they are overloaded with work, and yet their supervisor/manager/Senior Partner keeps asking them to do more and more things. And then at home they get asked to be on the PTA, and to go to a Yoga class with a friend, and look after a relative’s pets while they are on holiday. Naturally, they become very stressed trying to do everything and be everything to everyone when really they just don’t have the time or the energy.

The antidote is that simple word “No.” Our information pack lists several creative ways to dress up that “No” to make it easier both to say and to hear. My favourite, which I have been known to use myself, is “I already have this, this and this to do. What task would you like me to drop in order to do this new task?” I also really like “I appreciate your confidence in me. I wouldn’t want to take this on knowing my other tasks and responsibilities right now would prohibit me from doing an excellent job.”

The advice (which was written for our pack by Coach Dianna Keel – thanks Dianna) also makes a very good point. Sometimes there is no better answer than just a simple No. It strengthens your boundaries, and people start to realise that actually you’re not a do-anything dogsbody. They’ll have more respect for you, and next time they’ll think twice before asking. As the Grange Hill cast told us in 1986, “Just Say No”.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Barristers Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Tuesday 3 March 2009

Failte go hEireann

When LawCare started in 1997, it was the result of a working party formed by assorted members of the Law Society of England and Wales who had realised that some solicitors drank rather a lot, and it would be nice if there was someone who would help them to stop doing so before an intervention (the Law Society compulsorily taking over their practice) became necessary.

Since those early days LawCare has grown and grown beyond anything that could have been imagined in 1997. We still support solicitors with alcohol problems, but now we also support barristers, judges, legal executives, barristers clerks, advocates, staff and families, with all kinds of health problems – three-quarters of our calls relate to stress or depression. We also cover the whole of the British Isles. The Law Society of Scotland was the first organisation outside England and Wales to join LawCare, giving additional funding in return for our helping their members. The Bar Council followed, as did several further groupings, and last January LawCare ventured into foreign territory for the first time, when the Law Societies of Ireland and the Isle of Man joined us.

Every time we take on a new group, region or profession there is new terminology to learn and changes to make, but I have been surprised at how different it has been taking on Ireland to, say, Scotland. It may only be a short ferry ride from Holyhead to Dun Laoghaire, but every information pack and volunteer application pack we post costs three times as much. Telephone calls involve a string of about sixteen numbers, and I learned today that all Irish mobile numbers begin 085 or 086. Trainee solicitors serve apprenticeships before their parchment ceremony, and very few addiction treatment centres in Ireland offer detox, or accept private referrals. Then there are the names. I speak fluent Welsh (my children are called Gwenllian, Angharad and Ceridwen – or, as the spellchecker would prefer it, Gremlin, Anthrax and Crewmen) but it seems a million miles from one Celtic language to another when I try to figure out how to address someone called “Caoimhe”.

It’s good to have these new challenges, new opportunities to learn and the chance to broaden our horizons, but one thing I have learned is that lawyers are the same wherever they may be. British or Irish, lawyers struggle with impossible targets, long hours and bullying supervisors, they worry that their work isn’t as good as it could be but hate asking for help, and some have a tendency to drink too much when things become difficult. Whatever areas, professions or countries we expand into, LawCare seems to find that the problems troubling the hardworking professionals of the legal profession are the same.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)

Monday 2 March 2009

Moan of the Day

Two things about the day-to-day process of my job drive irritate me. One is the spam in my inbox each morning – offering to enlarge anatomical features I don’t have, warning me that my account with a bank I’ve never heard of has been compromised, and asking to use said bank account to transfer large sums of money in exchange for a small percentage. At present I am getting huge rafts of email returned undeliverable, which is particularly perplexing because I know for a fact I haven’t sent all those emails in the first place.

The second thing that irritates me is salespeople. Particularly advertising salespeople. I can spot them from the first breath by their contrived sociable approach. The conversation, once my identity has been established, invariably goes something like this.
“And how are you this fine day?”
“Fine.”
“Good, good, that’s what I like to hear.”

Someone, somewhere, has told salespeople to be friendly. That someone should be shot. Friendliness with strangers doesn’t come easily to us Brits, it sounds false and it’s extremely annoying when it comes from the fifth person that day to say exactly the same thing.

The caller will then introduce himself, and then say something like “I know you really want to increase business, and what you do there is something we really want to support”.

At this point I love to annoy them and generally say “We don’t want to increase business” (why would we want more lawyers to be stressed or alcoholic?) or, if I’m feeling really cruel, “What is it that we do here?” One I might try someday is “If you really want to support us, why not give us a free advert?”

The funniest are possibly the salespeople from legal journals which are doing a special charity legacies and bequests section. LawCare is a charity, you see, and if we have advertised in the periodical before, their system will flag us up as someone to call about being in the probate special. But picture the scene. Elderly Mrs P. has come to see her solicitor about making a will. After factoring in her family and friends she finds she has a sum remaining to leave to charity. Her solicitor picks up his Charity supplement and invites her to select a worthy cause for her bequest. So, what’s it to be? Humanitarian support for victims of natural disasters? Children with cancer? Abused and abandoned animals? The local hospice? Or overworked solicitors who drink a bit too much?

Obviously I do believe that LawCare is a worthy cause, but we are under no illusions, and we know that any donations we receive are going to come from those LawCare is here to benefit – the lawyers themselves. And obviously we want more of those lawyers to know where they can find the help they need, so we do need to advertise. But please, if you really must try to sell me advertising, don’t pretend to be my best friend, don’t act as if you know about LawCare’s work when you don’t, and just get straight to the bottom line. How much will it cost, and how many lawyers will it reach.

In the time it’s taken me to write this, 24 spam emails have arrived in my inbox – one of them in French. But I’m lucky that my irritations are only minor. We know from our helpline that many people are working in extremely difficult, stressful and intolerable conditions, so perhaps I can put up with a cheery salesperson or three and an unsolicited offer to sell me blue pills.

LawCare’s free and confidential helpline is available 9-7.30 Monday-Friday, 10-4 weekends, on:
0800 279 6888 (Solicitors, Law Students and Legal Executives in England and Wales)
0800 279 6869 (Solicitors, Advocates and Law Students in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Isle of Man)
0800 018 4299 (Barristers, Clerks and Judges in England and Wales)
1800 991801 (Solicitors in the Republic of Ireland)