Joy Louise T. Evidente
And that is why I found another psychiatrist.
There are a lot of things one needs as a law student and, later on, as a lawyer. One of those is mental strength. In law school, we are taught to be ready for harsh words and harsher truths, and I have learned that I am not one of those people who can handle it, or handle it in the way other people do, at least.
My entire life, I felt like I was an outcast because I thought something was wrong with me. I was right, because for years, I struggled with undiagnosed depression, anxiety, and a chronic condition that affected my executive function, which people in my life would dismiss as a personality trait or something I was just making up—until I snapped and was allowed to see a psychiatrist in 2022.
Here’s a funny story: One time, I walked into my former psychiatrist’s office and said, “Hey, I failed XYZ exam.” Her response was, “Baka hindi ka bagay sa law school.” During that session, she said it three times.
That was my last session with her.
I already knew I was paces behind my peers. No matter what I did, I would never be as good as them or as prepared for class because I was distracted by everything, everywhere, all at once (haha), and because of the funny chemicals in my brain, this was permanent and I could not do anything except live with it. The fact that the person I trusted to help me just sat there, telling me the most earth-shattering thing you could say to a 24-year-old, who dreamt of becoming a lawyer from age seven, made her words more devastating.
For every encouraging sentence I heard about law school, an essay of reasons why I would not succeed followed. It was already terrible to have impostor syndrome, then to have naysayers as well? Torture. It is absolute torture.
I started seeing my old psychiatrist in 2022 after having a terrible episode of depression I thought would never end. In 2023, my new psychiatrist prescribed me three types of medication to help me function like a normal human being: one for focus, one to stabilize my mood, and one to calm my anxiety. It is a lot, I know, but if I want to be a lawyer and help people, these are pills I need to consume.
The lesson here, dearest reader, is that I was dealt a bad hand and all I could do was live with it. I could not avoid it. I could sit there and cry from the dysfunction, or I could take my medication, turn off my phone, read my notes for class, and do my best all day, every day. There was no other path if I want to succeed.
Mental health and law school are toxic besties; together, we make a wild trio of friends, adventuring into the unknown, with nothing but a laptop and some books. Things may get hard but that’s the fun thing about adventures: They are never meant to be easy. So even if my former psychiatrist and so many other people would say, “Hindi ka bagay sa law school,” I would keep going until I get my degree, pass the Bar, and serve the people until my very last breath.
The Barrister 