Chapter - Mental Health and Public Life

Chapter – Mental Health and Public Life

I’m an introvert.  I’m physically sick before trying new things or hopping on a stage.

I want to be in charge.  I want to get things done and most often think I can get it done if I move to a leadership position.

These two traits don’t fit.  I’ve hidden this struggle.  Then I crashed.  Now I know how to manage it.  Maybe.

The stress of trying something new has always haunted me.  My dad took eight year old Frankie with him to a company golf tournament and I was ill in the car going there.  My dad came to a ‘father/son’ dinner at Cubs and I spent most of the time in the washroom.  I went to 9 schools in 12 years yet shook in fright every first day of school.  At every new school I just wanted to run home, and one time in grade 4 I did only to have my mom walk me back again.

Grownup Frank is the same.  I teach a small business course at UVic and for the very first class in 2000 I could barely get there on time.  Oh, I was at UVic half an hour before the start of class – I just couldn’t get out of the bathroom stressed out about this new task.  As I travel to join a new board, I can barely hold the steering wheel straight as every bone in my body wants to turn the car around and go home.  And today, as I plan family holidays and take care of every detail, my stomach churns and I am physically sick with stress.

This made politics difficult.  No kiddin’.  So I invented my political friend, ‘stage Frank.’  The ‘real Frank’ would like to be by myself in my office working through reports and thinking through strategies to ‘get things done.’  I loved Sunday mornings at the tire shop – we were closed and I’d catch up on paperwork and plan out strategies for the days and weeks ahead.  I loved Saturday mornings at my Capital Regional District office during the five years that I was Chair doing the same thing.  And of course, my 18 years as Mayor were best when I was there at nights or weekends working alone in my office.

But the ‘real Frank’ couldn’t have those political positions without ‘stage Frank’ playing the extrovert roles – campaigning, shaking hands, working the rooms, jumping up on any stage with an upbeat speech.  And I literally had to find him before getting on stage or entering a room.  I’d take a deep breath, say ‘let’s do this,’ and become the politician I needed to be.  If I could have had those leadership roles without being a politician, I would have been grateful, and mentally healthier.

This worked until 2005.  I was one busy guy: Mayor, UBCM Past President, FCM Board Member, MFA Chair and other assorted roles including being a husband and father.  Then I started losing weight, losing sleep and feeling very, very exhausted.  Everyone congratulated me for the exercise and fitness but I was getting gaunt and occasionally couldn’t hide my hands as they were shaking.  I knew I needed help so to avoid public attention I found a counsellor in Richmond and spent time and money trying to figure out what was wrong.  I know I’m not the only person to seek help for mental health issues but I wasn’t sure how electors would react to their Mayor’s weakness. No one knew me in Richmond and that was just fine.

What was wrong? The ‘two Franks’ wasn’t sustainable.  I don’t think you fix mental health issues – for me, I think you adjust and cope.  Among other things, one change was to align ‘stage Frank’ with what the ‘real Frank’ wanted to be.

My UBCM leadership days ended naturally as I left the board as Past President but I quit the FCM Board and spent more time in familiar places.  The 2008 Mayor’s campaign didn’t require much hype as my opponent wasn’t too strong however, I did gear up for a tight contest in 2011.  But even then, my campaign manager had to tell me to smile and get pumped when I needed to.  By 2014 I had retired ‘stage Frank’ and believed the ‘real Frank’ could carry my last election – and I was wrong.

So there I was: 60 years old; no pay; no pension; and no benefits.  I applied for jobs.  I applied for boards.  And I got shortlisted.  Guess what?  At 60 years of age I had my first interview.  I had never been interviewed for a job or board.  I worked with for my dad and then I was Mayor. 

I was a bad interview.  I was too laid back.  I deferred to the interviewers and said I’d understand if I was not chosen.  Hey, I’d interviewed people for decades and knew how tough these selections were.  The ‘real Frank’ was costing me opportunities so I realized (with the not so gentle urging by my wife Jackie) that I had to sell myself, be aggressive and make sure interviewers knew I wanted the job or board posting.  I didn’t bring back to old ‘stage Frank’ but I have learned to find a balance, and I have found success.

How does this translate for others?  Everyone is different and every challenge is too. Yet I believe my journey showed you can only ‘fake it’ so long.  I think you really can only be a good leader if you know yourself and know how to apply your ‘real self’ to the opportunity.  I know someone as lucky as me should say ‘I wouldn’t change a thing’ but I actually would.  I would tone down the extremes: the provincial politician would have been less hype and more sincere – how could it have harmed . . . I lost with the hype anyways.  The local politician would have been more honest with himself and those around me – “hey, just so you know entering a room full of strangers makes me physically ill – could a couple of volunteers come with me and help?”  I’d urge others to know themselves better before selling themselves to others.  If they can’t accept the real you, let it be their loss not yours.  I think I gave my best all-candidate speeches in my last campaign of 2014 – I shared my vision, my passion, my values for our community – and none of the speeches were hyped.  I lost, but I never felt better about myself so I don’t think the real loss was mine.  

Check out my website at http://frankleonard.ca/ for information on Local Government and Consulting