It’s not often that a rookie MPP makes such a powerful debut at Queen’s Park that people take immediate notice.
But that was the case back in 2006, when Lisa MacLeod won a byelection in the riding of Nepean–Carleton. She joined leader John Tory’s Progressive Conservative caucus and proceeded to make a name for herself by eviscerating the Liberal government of the day with her bombastic speaking style and questions that cut ministers to the quick.
Perhaps it’s not surprising, given the amount of political DNA that went into her makeup. Her great uncle Donald R. MacLeod was a minister in Nova Scotia premier Robert Stanfield’s cabinet. Her dad’s cousin Donald Cameron was premier of Nova Scotia in the early 1990s. And her father, who died 15 years ago, was a town councillor for three decades in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia, where she was born.
So, to be sure, MacLeod had big plans for her own political career, and most of her eastern Ontario constituents seemed on board as well: she’s been elected six times and never lost a race. When the Tories came to power in 2018, Doug Ford appointed her to his cabinet, where she had a very bumpy start as minister for kids and social services (the autism file did her in). She then resurrected her career as culture-industries minister during the worst of COVID-19, when tourism operators, festivals, sports teams, and heritage events desperately needed her advocacy as their revenues disappeared almost overnight.
But as MacLeod’s profile increased, so did her troubles. She seemed to relish picking fights with people — and not just during the theatre of question period. The most notorious example happened during a Rolling Stones concert when she encountered the now deceased Ottawa Senators owner Eugene Melnyk and called him a “piece of sh*t.” Heck, she even attacked me on the floor of the legislature during question period. (Frankly, I don’t even remember what it was about, but it had eyes widening in the press gallery and among her caucus seatmates who couldn’t figure out where that broadside had come from.)
What no one knew — and MacLeod was discovering — was that she was struggling with mental-health issues the breadth and depth of which she’s only now coming to terms with. Things became so desperate that MacLeod suffered what she’s now calling a “mental-health crisis” back in May that was so severe, it required her to step away from politics altogether and seek intensive treatment. She (wisely) cancelled her Twitter account, put restrictions on her Facebook page, and began trying to figure out what the hell was happening to her.
She now knows.
MacLeod and I spent half an hour on the phone on Thursday, as she shared some of the agonizing details of the past several years of her life.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Depends on the minute,” she replied. “I’m doing okay. But I’m fragile.”
That’s a word no one has ever used to describe MacLeod, a fact I point out to her.
“Well, people think one thing of me,” she said. “They’ve seen me take my knocks and get back up again. They see me give a feisty answer at question period or ask a frightening question. But I’m a different person than that.”
MacLeod confessed that she’s struggled with depression since 2014. And, after the past few months of intensive treatment, she now understands she has a bipolar and metabolic condition that will require her to be on medication for the rest of her life.
“It’s a lifelong illness,” she explained. “And I’ve simply got to take better care of myself as well.”
MacLeod is also coming to understand something her friend and former PC party leader Tim Hudak once told her: “Lisa,” he’d say, “you have a podium — so use it.”
And, so, to attack the stigma of a mental-health diagnosis and bring more light to the issue, MacLeod is prepared to do something most politicians never do: admit vulnerability and acknowledge her painful reality, in hopes of making her future and others’ a little better.
“Back in August, there were three weeks where it was hard to get out of bed,” she said. “It’s not been an easy eight years.”
Psychiatric specialists told her a bipolar condition manifests differently in every patient, which is why it can take years to diagnose. After 13 years on the opposition benches, her first year in government was so difficult she began to consider that “this might be more than just depression.” It got to the point that, last February, she wanted to quit politics altogether. The trucker convoy also had a hugely negative impact on her. While some of her federal Conservative colleagues were complimenting the organizers of the convoy and having their pictures taken with them, MacLeod stood in the legislature to say: “You’ve made your point — now go home.”
Through her treatment, she’s also come to know that “some of the most manic people are some of the most creative,” including in politics. Winston Churchill and Teddy Roosevelt both suffered similar maladies.
The silver lining to this crisis has been the support she’s received, particularly from her husband of 20 years, Joe Varner. “He’s been there for me whether I deserved it or not,” she said. Her 17-year-old daughter, Victoria, who has only known a life with her mother in politics, has also been brilliant. “My being in politics has put them through a lot,” she added.
Numerous caucus colleagues have reached out with sympathetic phone calls. She calls Ministers Todd Smith and Steve Clark “friends for life.” John Yakabuski was fabulous. Laurie Scott, a one-time nurse, had just the right bedside manner. Speaker Ted Arnott called her throughout the summer. Even Pierre Poilievre, in the midst of his campaign for Conservative party leader, spent two hours on the phone with her. “That sustained me for weeks,” she said.
But support has also come from some of the most unexpected sources. Ottawa mayor Jim Watson, with whom MacLeod frequently clashed at Queen’s Park when Watson was a minister in Dalton McGuinty’s government, “called all the time.” Interim Opposition leader Peter Tabuns, who was first elected in a byelection on the same day as MacLeod, “has been a total class act. He had many kind things to say about me as minister of culture.” She was happy to be able to show her daughter that there are compassionate people on all sides of the house.
MacLeod has also been hugely impressed by the professionalism of the staff at the Queensway Carleton and Ottawa Hospitals. “I’ve been in emergency rooms and psych wards in both places, and the word never got out,” she said. “They were committed to patient confidentiality. I knew I was safe there.”
MacLeod also saves some kudos for her constituents, who have re-elected her despite knowing of her mental-health challenges.
MacLeod has been back to the legislature twice since taking a leave of absence. The first time was in June to swear an oath to the Crown after winning her sixth election. “It was nerve-racking,” she confessed. “But I got through it and went home the next morning.”
The second time was more recent and did not go well. “It was very tough,” she said. “The media chased me down, and I had a mental-health setback. It precipitated other challenges for me.”
Having said that, next week will be a big one for MacLeod. She announced on her LinkedIn page that she now feels well enough to return to her duties at Queen’s Park: she’ll be back in Toronto on Tuesday. Then, on Saturday, October 29, she’ll celebrate her 48th birthday. And it appears that, this year, she’ll have something truly wonderful to celebrate.
“I’m pretty blessed,” she said as we wrapped up our call. “I have friends who will last as long as this condition.”
Her last words were especially poignant: “People should know that a diagnosis of mental illness isn’t the end of your life. And you’re not alone.”
If you feel you need mental-health support, these are some good places to start:
"Find mental-health support" — Government of Ontario