Issues surrounding the health of the mind remain among the last great taboos of public discourse.  In a frank and revealing essay, former advocate Alan Muir takes a look back at his own voyage of discovery through clinical depression.


Many scurrying bankers must thank God every morning that Sir Fred Goodwin, former axe wielding, banker extraordinaire, is around to personally take the media flak for a global recession, worse making an annual lottery win pension for marching Scotland’s record profit bank into the valley of the 500 (and we ain’t talking Forbes!) Like most who run from the rudder, he’s off whistling Dixie-Jeez, he could buy the place, and, with no mortgage. It is however easier for journos (a low class, lazy breed to be sure) to just aim at “Fred the Shred” rather than put any effort into trying to make something catchy from Adam Applegarth or Sir Tom McKillop.

But, as so often, I digress.

The serious point is to consider the all too real effects on the public (I hate the term “ordinary people”). Given this is “The Firm”, I restrict “public” to we solicitors, oddly enough a term which means a man of business. In recent years we have begun to see the hitherto unthinkable of redundancy, from office junior through to partners. The shrieks of ”this isn’t meant to happen” are falling on deaf ears. As a product of the comprehensive system, in Glasgow too, I have to avoid the tempting “Welcome to the real world chaps”

The number of sequestrations in the last year has risen by 158% (22,000 +). Hospital beds and bankruptcy can be great levellers. I know, I’ve experienced both. So, in many ways this is part been there and got through it-trust me, you can and you will.

I have, for a number of years now, coped with bouts of clinical depression, first properly recognized when I was at the Bar and in November’02 couldn’t face even adjourning a trial. I later learned that it was a panic attack on the back of the depression. How I drove home from Peterhead is still a mystery to me, but, I do remember feeling like a child who had just been told that it was alright, he wouldn’t have to return to that terrible school. I shall always be grateful to Mark Stewart QC who, as Advocate-Depute, allowed me to ”slip off” that day-very able Counsel and straight as a die is Mark.

Having hidden behind the door for five months, I attempted to hang myself, twice as it turned out due to the cord snapping. If M&S made those dressing gown cords any stronger, I wouldn’t be here. Instead of a rush of relief, I heard my internal bully screaming” Huh, you couldn’t even get that right!” After a call to the Murray Royal in Perth, cord bits still round neck, I was admitted. When discharged three weeks later, much against my wishes, I found, on the kitchen table, my suicide note which, needless to say, had left instructions for my much-loved sister about who NOT to allow to the funeral! Arrogant sod or what?

I’d love to tell you that all was well thereafter, but, in my case, the black dog, grey shadow, or whatever you choose to call it, is a factor of the “me” I have accepted on the old, and true, adage, ”The first step to recovery is admission”. Three years later I was back in the “nuthouse” (don’t go all PC on me, we discussed it one night and came to the conclusion that, if you’ve been in one, you can call it that. I am equally grateful to all those who took the time to venture through the locked doors to visit and offer genuine support (Jim Laverty-I never thanked you properly and for that I apologize)

Anyhoo, if nothing else, the above will show you just how self-obsessed the illness of depression can make us. Yip I said us! I didn’t plan to have it and don’t know anyone who did. I have learned that despite the terrors of actually disclosing how we feel, ”They’ll think, they’ll say”, very often the “they” have had experience of it themselves or via a family member. It is like the flu, it doesn’t care about achievement, sins or commitments-a very non-discriminatory illness in that way.

Sadly, it is also a hell on earth for those close to us, as they are powerless to cure. No amount of “but look at all the things you’ve achieved”, ”everybody likes you” etc. can shift the fact that the first reaction to any positive observation is ”But I don’t deserve”…. any of it, the love, success, happiness. Therein lies, for me at any rate, the biggest problem in trying to explain depression to someone who hasn’t prayed for the end and felt cheated by God, Fate or whatever when they wake up next morning. Picture the heid as a calculator, then you swap 9 and 2,4 and 7,3 and 6-now, try a calculation ….Until the numbers are returned to their correct positions by SSRIs, CBT, therapy sessions or whatever you find that works, all you can really do is make sure that the batteries are kept charged and the face is cleaned.

Depression, in my experience, is utter despair i.e. an absence of hope. It is an illness of perception where, once the perception is righted, the fog begins to clear. As it says in the Talmud, ”We do not see things as they are, we see them as we are”.

If any of this is coming a bit too close, please speak out to someone you trust. The help, just like the truth, is out there. The “I thought that you’d realise” tack is to be avoided. As I was once told, ”How would we know, your heid’s no glass”

I had started out to write this as a guide to getting through bankruptcy. I hope that I get asked to actually do that very thing now that I have gone off up a different track.

For what it’s worth, you could do worse than look at :- Depression Alliance Scotland, Lawcare, or, try ”Depression-the way out of your prison”, ”Veronika Decides to Die”

All helped me in their own way. The greatest sickness is denial and, we all deserve the help. Why? As the L’Oreal adverts say,” Because you’re worth it” BUT start to believe that.

Stay well. I’ll be there in a second doctor.

If you want to contact Alan, email the editor at steven.raeburn@carnyx.com