My Advocates
By Justin Silverberg | IG: @justin_silverberg
In the Spring of 2016, I was at a mandatory extracurricular event for my introductory Communications class at the University of Maryland. My professor at the time, Luke Capizzo (now Dr. Capizzo), was an advisor for a student group called TerpTalks – it was UMD’s version of TedTalks. Twice a year, TerpTalks put on a showcase where several of the 30,000 or so UMD students would share their story. A story about anything. It was that night in the Spring of 2016, sitting in an auditorium in the Stamp Student Union at UMD, that I knew it was time to tell my story.
The next fall, I spoke to Luke and told him I wanted to share my story about my struggles with mental illnesses. So for two months, Luke and I worked on my speech and eventually I gave my TerpTalk to several hundred people later that semester.
But this story goes way further back than 2016. It goes back to the day I was born in March of 1996. For as long as I could remember, I knew that I always battled something internally that did not feel “right.” During the early years of my life, I was unable to verbalize what I was feeling inside. This massive pit in my stomach at all times, this foggy cloud layer in my head; I had no idea what it was until I was around ten years old. My parents, the saints that they are, were unable to understand what was going on, so they reached out to some friends and got me help. Help in the form of psychological therapy. So progressive, right? 2005 and my parents refused to brush off what I was going through as “growing pains” – they were my biggest advocates from the start – even in the times when I could not advocate for myself.
As far back as my memories go regarding struggling with mental illnesses, so too does my memory of wanting to be a lawyer. In fact, in my fourth grade year book, Johnny wanted to be an astronaut, Mikey wanted to be a pro-athlete, and me? I wanted to be a lawyer. I always thought that I wanted to be a lawyer because my fourth grade teacher Mrs. Pierson told me I should be one after I convinced her (at least I think so), that Paul Bunyan was a superhero. But looking back, I think it was a combination. A combination of my Johnny Cochran-like closing argument that Paul Bunyan was indeed a superhero, and also that I wanted to be like my parents. I wanted to advocate for people who could not do so themselves; just like they did for me at such an early stage in my life.
Fast forward to 2021. I just graduated Cum Laude from NYU School of Law. I did it. I achieved my childhood dream. But for the year leading up to graduation, I had battled some of the most fierce battles I had battled with my mental illnesses. After I graduated, the Dean of Student Affairs at NYU Law, Lindsday Kendrick, asked me if I would like to speak at the orientation to the incoming class about how I managed law school with my mental illnesses. I was flattered, and immediately agreed. But my wife asked me a really good question before I gave the speech – do you really want to share your personal medical history with the world again? It was a great question, but my immediate answer was – Absolutely. Why? I don’t know to be honest. Maybe it is that I do not care what people think of me or say about me behind my back? Maybe I do care what people think about me, but I knew how hard I battled some days just to make it to tomorrow when very little part of me wanted to live tomorrow, and I knew that someone battling something similar needed to hear that they were and are not alone. I think it was the latter of the two.
Without recounting word for word what I said to the orientation class, I would like to tell you the gist of what has gotten me through the hardest days of my life.
In the hardest of times, one thing has always gotten me out of my worst days: purpose. Everyone has their own purpose and there is no right answer, but I learned during law school that no amount of money or success would ever make me whole. What makes me whole is living everyday to be the best husband, family member, friend, dog dad, colleague, and lawyer I can be. Every single day, I am able to get out of bed with conviction and a smile because I know it is an opportunity to live a life of purpose. No matter how bad things are at work, I know that I can have a positive impact on the people closest to me at home. No matter how bad things are at home, I know that I can make a positive impact on my colleagues and clients every.single.day.
Every day is an opportunity to do something good.
To the people out there struggling with mental illnesses, I hope this message finds you well. I hope you know that I can relate. I hope you know that I know exactly what you are going through. The thought of worthlessness; the constant “what ifs”; the thought of is this worth it; the thought of not wanting to be here tomorrow.
The answer is that tomorrow is always worth it because tomorrow is a day to get a little better than today and a day to make a difference. Find your purpose. Hold it tight. Own it. Do not let it go because in the darkest of times, our purpose is what gives us hope and strength.
Today, as a practicing attorney, I get to live out my childhood dream of being an advocate for others. But I get to do it with the perspective of someone who knows what it feels like to hit rock bottom. I get to do it from the perspective of a lawyer who will always look at my clients with kindness, consideration, and empathy because I know what it is like to feel like I was not heard. I know what it feels like to think people did not care about me, even when that was the furthest thing from the truth.
Knowing what I know now, I admit that I was wrong. I have always been heard. I have always been cared about. Where is my proof, Judge? Your Honor, my parents are my proof. They advocated for me from the start. They never judged. They never mocked. They never doubted.
So like my parents, today I get to be an advocate not only under the eyes of the law, but for everyone battling a mental illness. I hear you and I will make sure the world hears you for as long as I am living.
In the words of my hometown hero, Bruce Springsteen, “Better days are shining through.”
With love,
Justin
