In early 2020, Justin Bullock, MD, MPH, did what few, if any, resident physicians have done: He published an honest account in the New England Journal of Medicine of a would-be suicide attempt during medical training.
In the article, Dr. Bullock matter-of-factly laid out how, in 2019, intern-year night shifts contributed to a depressive episode. For Dr. Bullock, who has a bipolar disorder, sleep dysregulation can be deadly. He had a plan for completing suicide, and this wouldn’t have been his first attempt. Thanks to his history and openness about his condition, Dr. Bullock had an experienced care team that helped him get to a psychiatric hospital before anything happened. While there for around 5 days, he wrote the bulk of the NEJM article.
The article took Dr. Bullock’s impact nationwide. Twitter and in interviews, Dr. Bullock is an unapologetic advocate for accommodations for people in medicine with mental illness. “One of the things that inspired me to speak out early on is that I feel I stand in a place of so much privilege,” Dr. Bullock told this news organization. “I often feel this sense of ... ‘you have to speak up, Justin; no one else can.’ ”
OnDr. Bullock’s activism is especially noteworthy, given that he is still establishing his career. In August, while an internal medicine resident at the University of California, San Francisco, he received a lifetime teaching award from UCSF because he had received three prior teaching awards; a recognition like this is considered rare someone so early in their career. Now in his final year of residency, he actively researches medical education, advocates for mental health support, and is working to become a leading voice on related issues.
“It seems to be working,” his older sister, Jacquis Mahoney, RN, said during a visit to the UCSF campus. Instead of any awkwardness, everyone is thrilled to learn that she is Justin’s sister. “There’s a lot of pride and excitement.”
Suicide attempts during medical training
Now 28, Dr. Bullock grew up in Detroit, with his mom and two older sisters. His father was incarcerated for much of Dr. Bullock’s childhood, in part because of his own bipolar disorder not being well controlled, Dr. Bullock said.
When he was younger, Dr. Bullock was the peacekeeper in the house between his two sisters, said Ms. Mahoney: “Justin was always very delicate and kind.”
He played soccer and ran track but also loved math and science. While outwardly accumulating an impressive resume, Dr. Bullock was internally struggling. In high school, he made what he now calls an “immature” attempt at suicide after coming out as gay to his family. While Dr. Bullock said he doesn’t necessarily dwell on the discrimination he has faced as a gay, Black man, his awareness of how others perceive and treat him because of his identity increases the background stress present in his daily life.
After high school, Dr. Bullock went to MIT in Boston, where he continued running and studied chemical-biological engineering. During college, Dr. Bullock thought he was going to have to withdraw from MIT because of his depression. Thankfully, he received counseling from student services and advice from a track coach who sat him down and talked about pragmatic solutions, like medication. “That was life-changing,” said Dr. Bullock.
When trying to decide between engineering and medicine, Dr. Bullock realized he preferred contemplating medical problems to engineering ones. So he applied to medical school. Dr. Bullock eventually ended up at UCSF, where he was selected to participate in the Program in Medical Education for the Urban Underserved, a 5-year track at the college for students committed to working with underserved communities.
By the time Dr. Bullock got to medical school, he was feeling good. In consultation with his psychiatrist, he thought it worthwhile to take a break from his medications. At that time, his diagnosis was major depressive disorder and he had only had one serious depressive episode, which didn’t necessarily indicate that he would need medication long-term, he said.
Dr. Bullock loved everything about medical school. “One day when I was in my first year of med school, I called my mom and said: ‘It’s like science summer camp but every day!’” he recalled.
Despite his enthusiasm, though, he began feeling something troubling. Recognizing the symptoms of early depression, Dr. Bullock restarted his medication. But this time, the same SSRI only made things worse. He went from sleeping 8 hours to 90 minutes a night. He felt angry. One day, he went on a furious 22-mile run. Plus, within the first 6 months of moving to San Francisco, Dr. Bullock was stopped by the police three different times while riding his bike. He attributes this to his race, which has only further added to his stress. In September 2015, during his second year of medical school, Dr. Bullock attempted suicide again. This time, he was intubated in the ED and rushed to the ICU.
He was given a new diagnosis: bipolar disorder. He changed medications and lived for a time with Ms. Mahoney and his other sister, who moved from Chicago to California to be with him. “My family has helped me a lot,” he said.
Dr. Bullock was initially not sure whether he would be able to return to school after his attempted suicide. Overall, UCSF was extremely supportive, he said. That came as a relief. Medical school was a grounding force in his life, not a destabilizing one: “If I had been pushed out, it would have been really harmful to me.”
Then Dr. Bullock started residency. The sleep disruption that comes with the night shift – the resident rite of passage – triggered another episode. At first, Dr. Bullock was overly productive; his mind was active and alert after staying up all night. He worked on new research during the day instead of sleeping.
Sleep disturbance is a hallmark symptom of bipolar disorder. “Justin should never be on a 24-hour call,” said Lisa Meeks, PhD, associate professor of psychiatry and family medicine at the University of Colorado at Denver, Aurora, and a leading scholar on disability advocacy for medical trainees. When he started residency, Dr. Bullock was open with his program director about his diagnosis and sought accommodations to go to therapy each week. But he didn’t try to get out of night shifts or 24-hour calls, despite his care team urging him to do so. “I have this sense of wanting to tough it out,” he said. He also felt guilty making his peers take on his share of those challenging shifts.
In December 2019, Dr. Bullock was voluntarily hospitalized for a few days and started writing the article that would later appear in NEJM. In January, a friend and UCSF medical student completed suicide. In March, the same month his NEJM article came out, Dr. Bullock attempted suicide again. This time, he quickly recognized that he was making a mistake and called an ambulance. “For me, as far as suicide attempts go, it’s the most positive one.”