The One Most Common Trait of Perfectly Hidden Depression

This post was originally written in 2016, when I was busy interviewing people who’d identified with the term “perfectly hidden depression.” They’d read my writing, then volunteered to share their life stories with me. I did more than sixty interviews.. but this post was written with only nineteen under my belt. I was asking myself questions, and beginning to figure things out. Reading this felt as if I was revisiting a place where I’d discovered what I was meant to do for the next decade of my life. I had no idea at the time… as many of us do not.  It was, and still is, an incredibly meaningful journey. 

I’ve been interviewing real people with very real perfectly hidden depression.

First, we emailed. We talked about arranging a phone interview for later.

A few got cold feet, and pulled out. That’s okay. I totally understood.

Right before I made each call, I was aware that I wanted to make the person on the other end of the line as comfortable as I could, as quickly as I could… because I recognized how hard it was for them to share their story. To tell me, a perfect stranger, things that they may not have not told anyone.

Ever.

Then we started talking.

When asked, “Why did you reach out to me?”  the answer was consistently, “Because I’ve never seen this anywhere else — someone is writing about me intentionally hiding.“

The 19 interviewees thus far have fallen into a spectrum.  They’ve ranged from people who have never whispered a word to anyone, not even their spouse, that they have thoughts of wanting to die, or secrets from their past and present that have remained shamefully untold,  to people who hide mostly within their professional world, but have a close friend or partner who know their struggles.

The vast majority of people I’ve interviewed belong to the first group. Our conversations have occurred at times when no one can hear them talking to me.  Many assurances have been given about confidentiality.

A few had sought therapy. But others had told me, “I am hoping that by talking to you, it will help me take the next step. I’m so tired of living this way.”

Everyone is describing themselves as taking lots of responsibility, pushing themselves constantly, rarely feeling that they do enough, keeping a thumb in their back — and yet never feeling satisfied completely with what they’ve accomplished.

All of that, of course, is what makes them not look depressed. They’re active, involved, engaged.

A brain surgeon, an ad exec, a motivational speaker, a graduate student. Moms. Dads. Diverse ethnicities, families, and cultures.

But there is one question on the PHD questionnaire that 18 out of 19 people have answered unequivocally “yes,” that keeps jumping out at me.

• Did you grow up in a family where feelings of sadness or pain were avoided, or where you were criticized or punished for expressing them? Yes______ No______

This is poignant to me. Because this is how I began wondering about perfectly hidden depression in the first place. I was trying to treat people who couldn’t connect with any feelings of sadness or pain.

They could have other feelings. But not sadness, or much compassion for themselves.

None.

 

Telling quotes from the interviews…

“I was adored. But I kept feelings secret if they didn’t please my mom. I was her best friend.”

“My mom died and all the pictures of her disappeared. We weren’t allowed to ask questions about her.”

“If I needed to cry, I hid. If you couldn’t be engaged appropriately with the family, you were punished.”

“How can you be sad, and not know it? But that’s how it felt.”

“My mom had severe postpartum depression, like sometimes she thought about killing all of us, but dad wouldn’t do anything. All he did was criticize. So I took care of her as best I could.”

“I was the star of the family. They would drive hours to take me to athletic events. Everything was about practice and more practice. I was competitive. All we talked about was winning.

These families were stunted, skewed in one direction or another. Any real emotional intimacy or vulnerability was shunned, punished, or ignored.

What emotions were you allowed to feel or express? 

If you can imagine emotions as colors on a palette, in your family or culture, only colors that evoked happiness or success were allowed to be expressed. There were no dark hues — no grays, mauves, or dark greens. Only yellows, bright blues, oranges.

Your life had to be bright. Happy. Successful. In control. Invulnerable.

Pain was camouflaged. Hidden. Secret. Full of shame. Wrong.

If you don’t grow up knowing how to access and soothe more painful feelings — how to “paint” in those colors and find release– it’s very difficult as an adult to learn how.

But it can be done.

Because your pain is still there,, although it’s closeted away, far from sight. Maybe it seeps out when you’re taking a shower; you find yourself tearing up over what, you’re not sure.

But there’s a part of you that knows.

There’s not one single factor that determines the presence of perfectly hidden depression.

But if you struggle to express sadness … ever… about anything… if you don’t even know how… you might think about how that silence was created.

You can hear more about mental health and many other topics by listening to my podcast, SelfWork with Dr. Margaret Rutherford. Subscribe to my website and receive one weekly newsletter including my weekly blog post and podcast! If you’d like to join my FaceBook closed group, then click here and answer the membership questions! Welcome!

My new book entitled Perfectly Hidden Depression has arrived and you can order here! Its message is specifically for those with a struggle with strong perfectionism which acts to mask underlying emotional pain. But the many self-help techniques described can be used by everyone who chooses to begin to address emotions long hidden away that are clouding and sabotaging your current life.

And there’s a new way to send me a message! You can record by clicking below and ask your question or make a comment. You’ll have 90 seconds to do so and that time goes quickly. By recording, you’re giving SelfWork (and me) permission to use your voice on the podcast. I’ll look forward to hearing from you!

Photo by Dương Nhân.