The Struggle: Law School's Downward Spiral And The 'Shredding Of Your Self-Worth'

Were you depressed while in law school? You weren't alone.

unhappy black female lawyerWelcome to the latest installment of The Struggle, a series where we examine the mental-health issues that students encounter during the oftentimes grueling law school experience. We are posting these stories because sometimes what law students really need is to know that they’re not alone in their pain. Sometimes what law students need is to know that they’ve got a friend who is willing to share not just in their triumphs, but also in their struggles. These are real e-mails and messages we’ve received from real readers.

If these issues resonate with you, please reach out to us. Your stories need to be heard. You can email us, text us at (646) 820-8477, or tweet us @atlblog. We will share your stories anonymously. You may be able to help a law student who needs to know that someone else has been there before and survived.


I went to a typical cutthroat law school where the vast majority of my classmates were planning to go into corporate law. A higher number than I expected had parents who were lawyers, and law tuition was able to be paid in cash. Meanwhile, I didn’t even know a lawyer before I went to law school, I am a minority, and I wanted to do public interest law. Payment for my tuition and living expenses came solely from student loans and a few scholarships. I had wanted to do law school since I was 12 years old, so it was not a snap decision.

I have suffered from depression and anxiety since I was a teenager, but I felt I had endured a significant amount to be able to survive law school. I was right, but I never would have predicted how close I would come to not making it. I spent my first year with no friends, as many of my classmates were manipulative, fake, or ruthless. For the entire year, I had zero friends or support system anywhere in the state where I was attending law school. I began having panic attacks again, which I had not experienced in five years. I cried nearly every day, often right after I got to my car after class (however, I never, ever cried in front of any of my classmates or at the school). I called the suicide hotline several times that year, mainly to talk and to get my mind off of the complete isolation and loneliness that was consuming me. My anxiety spiked high enough to need a second medication to be able to function.

I also spent my entire second semester in counseling (which I sought and paid for out of a limited budget, because my law school did not provide it), attempting to keep from spiraling completely downward. I developed social anxiety as well, feeling like people were judging and watching me every second I was in public, which unfortunately was probably more true than not, at least from my particularly critical and toxic classmates. It was particularly horrible when my professors called on me in class. I had panic attacks before each class from anticipation of this, even though I usually managed to answer the questions reasonably. I think my professors sensed something was wrong though because they rarely called on me. I never volunteered anything, for fear of being wrong or drawing any attention to myself.

My second year, I still did not have any friends, and spent most of that year in a deep, isolated depression. I missed or was late to a ton of classes, though I am frankly amazed I made it to class as much as I did. I’m not sure why my teachers didn’t either (a) drop me from the class, or (b) recognize something was wrong and tell someone or talk with me. No one did, and in fact, I was embarrassed in public by two different teachers for walking in late, so after that, I just skipped class if I was going to be even two minutes late. It wasn’t worth the public humiliation. Somehow though, I got the grades in my final exams to squeak by.

My third year was a bit better owing to a few friendships I had been able to foster in small seminar classes, and a higher level of comfort with the law school process. I ended my final semester on a high note with great professors (who provided the first positive feedback I had heard in all of my law school experience). Then I started bar prep, online (because by this point, I hated most of my asshole classmates and refused to spend every day with them for the in-person prep course), and with no job prospects. I spent the summer zoned out alone in my apartment, trying to focus on studying, but usually falling asleep, crying, compulsively playing Candy Crush on my phone, or watching TV. I once tried to call my state bar association’s 24-hour mental help line, but it was disconnected. I didn’t want to call a suicide hotline because most people who have not gone through law school do not understand what it is like to experience the total extrinsic shredding of your self-worth. Not having any prospect of future employment further crushed me downward.

Two weeks before the bar exam, I came the closest to cutting that I had been in ten years. It took every single bit of strength I had to withdraw my hand from the knife and pull myself out of the room, but I’m relieved and proud to say I was able to walk away. In that moment in the hallway, I recognized how close to the edge I was and I stopped caring about my score for the bar exam; I just wanted to literally survive it. Had I not received a dream job offer the next day, I would have withdrawn from the exam. As it was, I had barely gotten through 20% of my prep course material by the time I took the test, but I survived it, and that was not a given for me. I have zero shame about whatever my score will be, because the bar exam is not worth my life. Additionally, my new job is truly a dream job, with an employer who will allow me to take the bar exam again if I fail, and it offers a good salary with great health insurance.

Still though, when some thoughtless or clueless people say stuff like, “See? Law school was worth it!” or “All that struggling paid off!” I correct them immediately, because I would never, ever choose law school again if I knew how dangerously close to the edge I would live for all three years. Law school was NOT worth my current job, wonderful as it is now. I would rather be making half of my current salary with no law degree than ever put myself through that literal torture again. I worked for every bit of the dollars I will earn in my future life. I even hesitate to tell people about the perfection of my current job, in case it makes them think that law school might be a good choice for them. Instead, I tell everyone I meet NOT to do law school unless they: 1) have a strong, consistent support system that is physically nearby; 2) have a job lined up, guaranteed in writing, to start right after the bar exam; and 3) have a full-ride scholarship that covers tuition and living expenses for all three years without being dependent on grades. This is basically an impossibility, so the end result is, don’t do law school.


Most colleges and universities have counseling and psychological services resources that students can turn to if they are in crisis or would like counseling, even after hours. If these services are not available at your school, and if you’re depressed and in need help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255) or a lawyer assistance program in your state. Remember that you are loved, so please reach out if you need assistance, before it’s too late.


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Staci Zaretsky is an editor at Above the Law. Feel free to email her with any tips, questions, or comments. Follow her on Twitter or connect with her on LinkedIn.

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