I am often asked if the stress of being a lawyer “caused” me to become an “addicted lawyer.” Here is my answer.

Fall, 1983. I’m officially a first-year law student at the University of Pittsburgh School of Law. I am shy and self-conscious. I bring with me the baggage of a drinking problem, an eating disorder (yes, men get eating disorders), and severe body image issues. Students are forming cliques and study groups. Self-doubt and self-loathing are my study companions.

A pint of Jose Cuervo will change my outlook. Within an hour, the bottle is empty. I stagger over to the law school bar hangout. I spy other students at the bar, talking, excited about the coming year. I want so badly to be invited over. I am super-glued to my chair. Mind-bending depression sets in. This sucks! I hate law school!

Time to get home. Suddenly I find myself outside the old Forbes Field, where the Pittsburgh Pirates once played. Where my hero, Robert Clemente, once roamed right field. The isolated center field wall, still standing as a historic monument, is as good as place as any. A good, stomach-emptying purge right about where Bill Mazeroski hit his game-winning home run in the 1960 World Series. That familiar release of everything I hate about myself. I think of those days collecting baseball cards, sitting with my dad in the sun, Clemente on the field.

The world is spinning. I hope I can find my way home. Heading home, I pass by a White Tower hamburger joint. My usual stop to gorge myself on mini-burgers before I purge them either in my apartment or in a dark alley if my roommate is home and I don’t want to be discovered. I am not yet aware that there is an eating disorder called bulimia. That awareness will not come for decades. I don’t know the word, but I live the shame.

While waiting for my order of burgers, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a rack of pamphlets. On the cover, the words “Are You an Alcoholic?” its title bluntly asked. “What the hell. I will play along,” I thought to myself, opening the pamphlet.

“Have you ever missed work or school because of your drinking?” — Yes, but that’s okay because I can still run with a hangover.

“Have you had problems with drinking the past year?” — What kind of problems? I’m a student. We all get stinking drunk.

“Do you have blackouts?” — Is passing out a blackout?

“Have you ever sought help?” — Listen. I am clearly NOT an alcoholic! Alcoholism is for smelly, unshaven bums living under a bridge. I’m going to be a lawyer. I crumple up the pamphlet, and like a basketball, take aim for the garbage can. Rimming out.

That evening was the closest I came to self-awareness of my problem with alcohol for decades. Recent research tells me that I was probably not alone in having a problem. A 2014 study, the Survey Of Law Student Well Being found that law students experience problematic drinking issues as well as other mental health concerns such as depression at rates higher than the general public and other graduate students. Like lawyers, law students are also much less likely to seek help due to the stigma, including fear of consequences and judgment. Like lawyers, law students may be more predisposed to focusing on those fears rather than the problem itself.

A lot has changed however, since I walked into that White Tower and read that AA pamphlet. Then, AA was for the most part, all there was in terms of self-help. There was little support within the university mental health system and what was there, was not well known. Today, we have a much more diverse range of mental health resources available to students. We have Lawyers Assistance Programs (LAP) that welcome law students. We have student-run, collegiate recovery programs that welcome law students such as the excellent program at George Washington University in D.C.

Law schools from the top down have become much more sensitive to mental health concerns. The resources are there, but you have to want to take that first step. It’s scary, I know. I was terrified and had felt I had nowhere to turn. It’s time for you to turn. Talk to your family. Talk to your Dean of Students. Not all, but some professors will be willing to listen and help. Find one. Take charge. Put together a plan for recovery. Find other law students in recovery for support.

It may seem hard to believe, but these issues can be dealt with and you can still fulfill your dream of being a lawyer. A sober lawyer. A sober law student. A better law student. It’s worth it. Here are a few resources that cover different recovery viewpoints you can reach out to today. Feel free to reach out to me.

Brian Cuban (@bcuban) is The Addicted Lawyer. A graduate of the University of Pittsburgh School of Law, he somehow made it through as an alcoholic then added cocaine to his résumé as a practicing attorney. He went into recovery April 8, 2007. He left the practice of law and now writes and speaks on recovery topics, not only for the legal profession, but on recovery in general. He can be reached at brian@addictedlawyer.com.