The Men I Couldn’t Save: Male Archetypes In Psychiatric Therapy

Why I Am The Antifeminist Psychiatrist II

Men are underrepresented in psychiatric therapy for the most common disorders— anxiety, burnout, and depression. Partly because they are less sensitive to negative emotion and partly perhaps due to a stoicism that delays seeking help. Just as I highlighted some recurring patterns I had been observing in my work as a psychiatrist amongst women, I have also begun to see some clear patterns amongst the men who end up on my couch.

The reason it’s possible to separate patients into these archetypes, I believe, is that the most common psychiatric disorders—collections of symptoms of psychological distress—are often rooted in life problems rather than endogenous pathology. These life problems, in turn, are shaped by cultural norms and interpersonal dynamics. Hence, it’s natural that the female archetypes would have corresponding male ones.

Patrick, Penelope’s Partner

I first meet Patrick during a couple’s therapy session with his girlfriend, Penelope, whom I had previously seen individually. He isn’t here because he struggles with psychiatric symptoms himself, but rather because Penelope insisted on them attending couples therapy, giving him an ultimatum to make him join her. To avoid yet another exhausting conversation about marriage, he reluctantly agreed to come along for a few sessions.

Patrick is 34, an attractive and athletic man with a high-ranking managerial role in investment banking. He earned an engineering degree and has worked hard since university, steadily climbing the corporate ladder. He maintains close friendships, has a tight-knit family, and plays tennis regularly. He’s adventurous, always planning exciting trips for himself and Penelope, and his enthusiasm for life is palpable—until the topic of settling down and starting a family comes up.

Patrick admits that the idea of a constrained family life drains the air from his lungs. He pictures himself trapped in a life resembling that of his older brother, whose existence appears anything but fulfilling. At family gatherings, Patrick watches uneasily as his ADHD-diagnosed nephew dominates the room like a petty tyrant while his brother, hunched over his phone, seems oblivious to his wife’s disapproving glares. Patrick has no desire to become another weary father, weighed down by endless responsibility and conflict.

In Patrick’s mind, their life is perfectly fine the way it is—better, even, than many of their friends’ relationships. They have successful careers, no major conflicts, and enjoy traveling together. He doesn’t see why they should disrupt this balance. As far as he’s concerned, there’s still time to revisit the question of marriage and children later. Perhaps they could marry civilly at the local registrar’s office when the time comes, but right now, he sees no urgency.

During the session, Patrick counters Penelope’s emotional pleas with logical reasoning. He reminds her that they agreed two years ago to focus on their careers, and now she’s changing the terms. “I haven’t changed—she has,” he says with quiet frustration. He also proudly highlights the Excel spreadsheets he has prepared, explaining how marriage just wouldn’t make financial sense when looking at their tax and retirement situation.

As Penelope becomes increasingly emotional, Patrick grows visibly annoyed. Tears have become a frequent feature of their conversations, and he feels manipulated by them. As the session continues and more tears flow, his annoyance turns into anger. “It’s not my fault, and this isn’t fair,” he says.

I don’t intervene much during the session. My role is to ensure they both hear and understand each other, which they do. They’re not confused about where the other stands—they’re at an impasse. Penelope articulates her freshly realized desires for the next ten years: Children within a marriage. I then ask Patrick, “What do the next ten years look like for you? Where do you see yourself at 45?”

Patrick squirms slightly in his chair, hesitates, and then flashes a boyish smile. “Why wouldn’t I be doing the exact same thing as now? Enjoying life, doing what I like—just with more money.” As he says this, Penelope slumps in her seat, feeling once again that the battle is lost.

Some months later, Penelope breaks up with Patrick. According to Penelope, this shocked him, but they separate amicably. Penelope mentions how his Instagram is full of pictures of him partying and living large.

Behind the Symptoms

Patrick represents a high-status man who, in his youth, has enjoyed many opportunities. The world has been relatively kind to him—his intelligence, charm, and looks have opened doors that many struggle to walk through. He has a successful job, a tight-knit social circle, and the freedom to pursue his interests and spend his hard-earned salary how he pleases.

Many would say, “And why shouldn’t he do exactly that? Good on him. We do nothing but encourage women to take advantage of every opportunity—he should do the same.”

While factually correct, long-term mental health requires foundational pillars. Patrick already has friendships, hobbies, financial security, and education, but more important are those that provide deeper meaning—intimate relationships, a sense of legacy, and personal growth through sacrifice for something that matters more than oneself. If he doesn’t build while he still has leverage, he’s leaving himself psychologically exposed.

The Path Forward

As we outlined earlier, Penelope eventually faced her fear of re-entering the dating market—a fear that turned out to be less acute than the fear of remaining in a childless relationship. Patrick, in turn, was let off the hook. For men like Patrick, two typical pathways often emerge. Many live their 30s to the fullest—at least by their own definition—and eventually settle down with a younger woman and having a child at 40.

Other men like Patrick believe their careers and casual friendships will be enough to sustain them. However, when life’s inevitable storms hit—a layoff, aging parents, or married friends drifting away—they find themselves without the emotional and relational anchors to steady them. When men have a family, they can’t afford to lose themselves; the stakes are high. But with those sacrifices come personal growth, which also means they develop the capabilities to weather such coming storms far better.

Lacking these supports, Patrick would turn to alcohol or other forms of escapism, hoping to dull the emptiness they can no longer ignore. Likely, I (or some other psychiatrist) will see Patrick again later in life. Not because life didn’t offer them opportunities, but because they never built what they truly needed.

Hopefully, therapy at that stage can guide away from resenting the unfair storms that ruined his life through no fault of his own and towards building a meaningful life by recognizing and utilizing the remnants of the opportunities still available. Opportunities that, in their 30s, were once abundant.

Oliver Is Overwhelmed

Oliver is a 30-year-old man presenting with persistent fatigue, insomnia, and poor work performance. Employed as a project manager in a corporate environment he struggles with showing up on time and meeting project deadlines. He feels unfulfilled, often clashing with his boss, whom he describes as toxic like many of the other guys in his team.

“No matter what I do, it’s never good enough,” he says, frustrated by their frequent arguments over how projects should be handled. He wishes for a workplace where his ideas could be appreciated and where he could express his creativity. Despite holding a stable job (for now), his family’s urban lifestyle depends heavily on his wife’s income.

In an effort to support his wife’s career ambitions and spend more time with their child, Oliver reduced his work hours to 80%. “Why wouldn’t I let her work more if that’s what she wants? I enjoy having my day with my son,” he explains. He loves spending time with his 2-year-old son, frequently taking him to visit his mother on his day off. “She’s always been there for me. We’ve always gotten along well,” he says, praising the close bond they share. After his parents’ divorce, Oliver lived with his mother, who had a well-paying job, ensuring he never lacked for anything material.

Despite this arrangement, however, his sense of exhaustion persists. When asked when he feels relief, he answers that he loves his hobbies, like playing online videogames with his friends and building advanced Lego Star-Wars sets whenever they are available. Yet, the joy is fleeting, and his fatigue, poor focus return making him feel irritated at himself and those responsible.

He attributes his struggles at work to his colleagues, believing they tend to get their ideas approved by navigating office politics while he’s left out. “It’s often quite obvious that my ideas for the projects are better, but they only care about their positions instead of the quality of the work.”

He also sees his father as a contributing factor, reflecting on their distant relationship “I didn’t see him much after the divorce, just some weekends. It was awkward, and we never really connected. “When I was diagnosed with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) as a teenager, my father didn’t even believe it was real” he says, shaking his head, exasperated. At one point he mentions how he would never want to be like his father; “from what my mom tells me he is just as toxic as the guys at work!”

However, Oliver admits he feels stuck now. His boss constantly criticizes his work, and his wife frequently complains about his lack of help around the house. “She says something about a mental load—I don’t even know what that means,” he says with frustration. “I do what I can, but it’s never enough.”

When life becomes overwhelming, Oliver turns to smoking weed as a way to cope, like he has done since a teen. It helps him sleep, though it leaves him groggy and makes mornings difficult. I gently ask, “So I can gauge your level of suffering, how many times this past week did you feel it got ‘too much?’” He hesitates, then answers, “Three times.”

I follow up, asking if this was how he had envisioned his use of weed before becoming a father. He pauses, glancing down at his hands, and quietly says, “No, not really.” There’s a hint of defensiveness in his voice as he adds, “It’s not like I’m doing it all the time.” He explains that before they had kids, he and his wife used to share joints together to unwind. “Back then, it was different,” he says. “Now, she’s really against it, like it’s some huge problem. She’s changed a lot.”

When I gently press further, asking what he thinks about the impact of his current use on his focus and performance, he admits, “Maybe it’s not great for focus, but it helps with my IBS.” The tension in his response reflects the underlying conflict—he relies on weed to manage stress, but deep down, he seems to know it’s become more of a crutch than a solution.

He reports frequent headaches over the past two years, though neurological exams have ruled out any serious issues. Additionally, his IBS has recently flared up due to stress. The constant negative feedback at work leaves Oliver feeling unappreciated, longing for a workplace where his creativity would be valued. He has many ideas for startups and side projects but finds it difficult to follow through on them. His wife has suggested that he may have ADHD, something he wants to explore further.

At home, Oliver’s wife is often dissatisfied with his efforts, frequently complaining about the mental load she carries. He doesn’t fully understand what she means by “mental load” but has learned to disengage during arguments to avoid further conflict. “When it gets too much, I smoke a joint, and the next day it passes.” he remarks. However, he admits that his wife has become more forceful recently, insisting he seek therapy. “She’s probably right—it’s probably for the best. If I could only focus more,” he concedes.

Eventually, Oliver loses his job. Through a different psychiatrist, he secures permanent disability leave, citing his IBS and chronic fatigue. He hopes that this will give him the time he needs to focus on his creative projects, but without a regular daily rhythm and as his weed habit worsens, little progress is made. The lack of structure and growing dependence on substances further strain his marriage. His wife ultimately threatens to file for divorce and Oliver moves back into his family home to take care of his ailing mother.

Behind The Symptoms

After his parents divorced, Oliver lived with his mother and saw ever less of his father. Though he didn’t lack materially, he struggled to build a meaningful connection with his father, whom he blamed for the divorce. His father’s dismissiveness—particularly when it came to Oliver’s health issues, such as his IBS diagnosis—deepened this rift. As a result, Oliver gravitated more toward his mother, who always understood him and shared his perspective.

The trouble was, she was a domineering and manipulative woman whose over-nurturing, over-protective, and possessive behaviour stifled the development of his autonomy and individual identity. By stepping in whenever things got difficult, she prevented him from learning to assert himself or face discomfort.

Across cultures, initiation rituals for boys transitioning into manhood often involve symbolic acts of separation from the mother. Guided by male elders or fathers, these rituals test a boy’s physical and mental endurance—representing the hardships and responsibilities of adult life—and signify his readiness to join the world of men through strength and resilience. It’s no wonder Oliver is left dependent and hesitant to assert himself, having grown up without a father to guide him through such a process.

Additionally, growing up in an era where egalitarian ideals dominated, Oliver internalized the notion that men should make way for women and avoid conflict by giving them space to be equal. He had no desire to emulate his father, who, according to his mother, always acted selfishly without considering others.

Believing that the key to marital bliss was accommodating his wife’s career ambitions, Oliver embraced a more passive role, not much different from how he lived with his mother. Why wouldn’t men like Oliver step aside thinking: If she wants to work more, be my guest. Except his domestic efforts barely register.

This is because Oliver’s wife is suffering from an unfulfilled need to nest and nurture. Expressed in the mysterious and ephemeral “mental load”- complaint. She is like most other working mothers who insist more egalitarianism will improve their existence, completely out of touch with her intrinsic needs.

Oliver’s passive approach has bred mounting resentment, especially at work, where he feels undervalued by his boss. His reluctance to assert himself—both professionally and at home—has left him increasingly irritated and angry. Rather than confronting these issues, he retreats into temporary distractions like gaming and smoking weed, which only delay his sense of failure.

Men like Oliver often feel crippling anxiety from the lack of confidence in their competence— competence they on some level know doesn’t match their potential. This, in turn, tempts the calming effect of drugs or alcohol.

Unacknowledged resentment fuels his belief that life is unfair—he’s done what’s expected, yet things keep falling apart.

The Path Forward

Oliver needs a structured approach to regain control over his life. The first step is to quit smoking weed, which will help restore his energy levels, improve his focus, and establish a consistent circadian rhythm. Alongside this, he would benefit from a regular exercise routine to manage stress and improve sleep, as well as adopting a high-protein, low-sugar diet to support his overall physical and psychological fitness. Together, these lifestyle changes would address the fatigue and lack of motivation he currently struggles with.

Although there are many societal structures in place that have shovelled him into this position, only asserting himself at home and at work—despite the risks involved—will make him less miserable. Rebuilding his role means Oliver must shift from merely following societal expectations of men being the supporting cast in their female partner’s movie, to actively shaping his life.

This will probably improve the psychological health of the entire family. Children raised by such powerless fathers become the disliked children who throw tantrums for the rest of their lives. While spending more time at home calms his fear of becoming like his geographically absent father, his role as half a provider and unappreciated husband leaves him insecure and lacking the self-respect needed to provide what his kids need from a father. We see the same dynamic in the story of Wanda the Working Mother, as raises the kids to second-guess Warren’s authority. We will elaborate on Warren later.

By standing up for himself at work and engaging more effectively with his wife, he can create a positive feedback loop—improving his relationships, reducing resentment, and finding fulfilment. Through this process, Oliver can break free from passivity, take ownership of his life, and ultimately build a future that feels meaningful and rewarding.

Oliver needs to understand that his wife’s dissatisfaction stems not from the workload imbalance but from her unmet emotional need for a partner who takes charge. An honest conversation is necessary—one where he lays out his feelings and encourages his wife to articulate what she truly wants. Then they can negotiate, but only on the assumption that they are both willing to take responsibility for change.

Assertiveness training will be essential here. Helping Oliver engage these conversations without retreating into avoidance will lead to less stressful and better outcomes in the long run. This strategy depends on mapping out what his life would look like if he doesn’t start taking charge now.

You might say, “no wonder he doesn’t engage when women have so much power in society and hold all the cards”. Oliver does indeed have valid reasons to feel angry and believe he deserves better. In most cases, the wife is equally miserable and could welcome his confidence. Sadly, many women feel much is owed to them for small sacrifices, so his initiative to negotiate change might not inspire a reciprocal change in her. She might even be a malignant actor. Either way, divorce could still be the outcome, so Oliver might as well find out now.

Encouraging Oliver to embrace discomfort as a necessary part of growth will give him the best possible chance at a positive outcome—allowing him to become as strong as he can for himself and his child (who should be our primary concern). Oliver needs what he never received from his father: someone he respects pushing him to fulfil his potential and earn self-respect.

Even if feminist forces vanished overnight, he would still be left with his feelings and his personality traits—both of which only he has the power to change.

The worst-case scenario for Oliver—tragically, one that occurs too often—is that he loses his job, falls out of a daily rhythm, sinks into clinical depression, and increases his substance use. His wife, might leave with full custody of their child anyway, likely having a stronger case given his deteriorating condition. This would now be a case I would classify as “high suicidal risk”.

Warren Just Wants to Matter

Warren is a 48-year-old high-ranking manager at a software company. Well-educated and reasonably intelligent, he exhibits characteristically masculine traits—reserved, methodical, and not particularly inclined toward emotional expression. Yet he is visibly suffering.

His reports experiencing sudden onset physical symptoms similar to panic attacks. He has no prior psychiatric history. A cardiovascular check is clear. Alongside this, his mood has worsened, and he struggles to feel hopeful about the future or find enjoyment in things he once looked forward to.

It confuses Warren that he feels this way. His friends tell him he shouldn’t feel down—“You’ve got it all,” they say—a house in a good neighbourhood with two cars in the driveway, a boat on the lake at his cottage and vacations in Italy. Although, at some point the vacations went from relaxing to exhausting, and he now feel relief when back at work.

Yet, he started having panic attacks when preparing for business trips and especially boarding the flights. His role requires frequent travel, something he never really enjoyed, but now just the thought of leaving triggers these attacks. His chest hurts, he can’t breathe or think, he gets dizzy and sweaty and can’t function properly.

He visited a company psychologist, who suggested that stress and an excessive workload were likely to blame. She recommended reducing his hours and signing up for the groups she offered teaching breathing exercises and sensory training. They didn’t help.

At home, things have gone from bad to worse. Warren is married to Wendy, who we got to know in the previous article. They have had difficulties in their marriage for years, going back to when the kids were little. “She always objected to how I dealt with them” he explains, “I assumed she knew what was best, although some of the techniques seemed rather counterintuitive but fighting her on it was like dealing with a freight train.”

They have two children, and their nine-year-old son was recently diagnosed with ADHD. This diagnosis added immense strain to their already fragile family dynamic. “All we ever talk about is how to deal with him” he says frustrated. Wanda frequently blames Warren for their son’s issues, accusing him of not doing enough to help. “All I hear from her is how this is my fault,” he says bitterly.

He’s saddened that spending more time with the kids recently hasn’t improved matters. He loves them, but dealing with them was exhausting. They constantly challenge him and make sure to tell their mother how unhappy they are afterwards.

The constant criticism has eroded their connection, and intimacy in their marriage has completely vanished. “She says she doesn’t have the energy, and besides, we’re always arguing,” Warren explains. He looks defeated.

Even when he spends more time at home, it doesn’t seem to make a difference—“She’s always annoyed, telling me there’s more I should be doing with the kids or around the house.”

In one session, Warren reflects on his work: “I liked leading teams and coming up with solutions. I used to enjoy it.” He hasn’t felt motivated in a long time. Despite being in a high-ranking position, he no longer has any desire to climb further.

He spends most of his time brooding, unable to sleep well at night due to racing negative thoughts. He confesses to waking up at odd hours, lying in bed consumed by anxiety about work, his marriage, and the future.

Despite everything, Warren is reluctant to talk openly about his emotions. He’s not one for long conversations, a trait he describes as being part of his character. “I’m just not a big talker,” he says. But as he tells his story, it’s clear he is carrying a heavy emotional burden.

At the end of our first session, I prescribe him medication to help him sleep and extend his sick leave.

Luckily, Warren likes to fix things and is quite apt with his hands. Long ago, he wanted to build an old-fashioned wooden rowing boat for the cottage. I encourage him to start this project while on leave. It takes some time for him to get this started but it helps him think and process.

Later still, Warren reports how he tried having an honest conversation to communicate what he needed, it had ended with Wendy crying: “What about me?” and her talking about wanting to see a therapist for her “Burnout.”

In the end, Warren changes his job and feels more motivated professionally while the battle for precious resources continues at home. As his panic attacks retreat, he discontinues therapy against my recommendation. He still looks like a haunted man.

Behind the Symptoms

Warren’s panic attacks and worsening mood aren’t simply the result of overwork—they reflect a deeper conflict tied to his identity as a provider. When he and Wendy started their family, he fully embraced this role while taking on as much domestic responsibility as his capacity allowed, enabling her to pursue her career as well.

Their packed schedules often totalled close to 70 hours of work per week. They have two salaries to maintain this elaborate lifestyle, but his higher salary remains the backbone of their financial stability. They have paid for it with their marriage.

Despite his sacrifices, he increasingly felt taken for granted. Wendy’s constant dissatisfaction, no matter what he did, drained him over time. Early on, he tried to meet her demands, but when nothing seemed to improve, he gave up—pushing back felt futile.

Attempts to discipline the children often led to Wendy intervening, insisting he do things differently. Even when he tried her way, it didn’t help, further undermining his confidence.

Regarding the panic attacks, it’s likely they arose from the spiralling chaos at home, with his children’s behavioural issues being the heaviest weight. His anxieties appeared in conjunction with traveling, because he became increasingly anxious about what might happen in his absence or what he would return to after each trip.

Spending more time at home hasn’t brought the relief he hoped for either; the constant tension made him feel like more of a failure as both a father and a husband. Sitting in his bed in the dark, he saw no light in the negative spirals.

According to psychological research, particularly Tom Golden’s work on men’s emotional healing, men often process emotions through action rather than verbal expression. Where women find comfort in face-to-face interaction, men perceive this as a challenge. This is a consideration rarely practiced by a majority female psychological community.

Warren’s goal-oriented boat-building project provided a sense of mastery and control, helping to regulate his distress. It gave him a break from feeling a failure. He worked through his thoughts and emotions while gradually restoring his sense of agency.

Meanwhile, work offered little meaning now, as he needed to feel like he is striving toward something worthwhile. Warren had already climbed high in the corporate hierarchy, and with no further challenges ahead, his role had become monotonous and unfulfilling. According to Vygotsky’s theory of the Zone of Proximal Development, people thrive when they are engaged in tasks just beyond their current ability, where effort is needed but success is achievable.

Changing to a more demanding job, reignited his sense of purpose by placing him back in a zone where effort felt meaningful. He told himself that throwing his time and energy into this challenge will create a legacy to hand over to his kids. Surely, they will all thank him then. This helped stabilize his mood temporarily, giving him something tangible to strive for and enough distraction to compartmentalize the chaos at home.

Wendy, having tried to “have it all,” is overworked and burdened with guilt over the state of their children. Entering the relationship with a fundamental resentment toward men, she was quick to find fault in her husband. Warren, in turn, was primed to second-guess his instincts, wondering if they might, after all, be toxic. He would have never dared ask if he might deserve consideration for shouldering the lion’s share of the income in a job with significantly higher pressure and risk than hers.

Ironically, what Wendy truly craved is for him to respond to her emotional volatility with firm boundaries, providing her with a sense of emotional security. This unspoken need lies behind many of the “tests” and verbal jabs she had thrown at him over the years. Evolutionarily, women are prone to test if a man can display strength and assertiveness in the face of adversity. This provides a sense of safety. By challenging a partner, women instinctively seek proof that he has the ability to protect her and the offspring from danger.

Warren not acting on the certainty he felt deep down only deepened her resentment and turned her affections into dislike.

I believe this dynamic is the same reason feminists in Scandinavia actively advocate for welcoming male Muslim immigrants from Arab countries with tyrannical laws against women. Beneath it lies a craving for men to help them regulate the extremes of their emotional instability and insecurity.

The Path Forward

Through his handiwork, Warren managed to interrupt his spiralling thoughts, giving himself a brief stretch without a full panic attack. This break provided much-needed distance from both work and family pressures. In therapy, we discussed how to communicate his need for respect, appreciation for being the primary provider, and recognition of his well-being. Together, we worked on bringing these truths to the table.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t negotiate meaningful change. Corrupted by the feminist machinery, Wendy remained convinced of her victimhood and the exploitation of her labour. Trapped in dissonance, she was unable to reconcile with her intrinsic desires and continued to insist that Warren was the source of their problems.

Ultimately, they would later divorce, citing irreconcilable differences. Warren, having always craved love and appreciation from a woman, remarried. Resigned that this would come at the expense of what remained of his relationship with his children.

The children, in turn, embittered by the dysfunction they witnessed growing up, swear never to marry or prioritize family, convinced those choices belong to a bygone era reserved for religious freaks and the ignorant. Jaded, they’ll tell you that in today’s world, marriage is nothing more than a scam destined to breed misery and financial ruin.

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I am always astonished by the capabilities of men and what they can achieve in the pursuit and maintenance of a woman’s affection. Their capacity for betterment seems limitless—if properly incentivized and rewarded. Too often, however, this drive is exploited by women corrupted by feminism, who themselves desperately need better guidance. That guidance must come from a framework carefully developed over thousands of years—one that was gradually refined to ensure long-term psychological well-being.

Postmodernist psychologists would have us believe that we are all infinitely unique, and therefore any kind of framework is inherently oppressive—placing precious individuals into categories or “boxes” supposedly harms their individuality. But raising children provides a clear analogy.

If a child’s schedule is built around constant exceptions—irregular rhythms, varying foods, late-night snacks—they become unsettled, and their development suffers. Conversely, when proper boundaries are established, providing regularity and structure, occasional exceptions can be made. Exceptions that are then a source of delight.

With these archetypes, I aim to show that while our individual problems and life situations are infinitely complex, most people’s fundamental desires and needs as men and women are not so different. Those of us in the psychiatric clinics, not deafened and blinded by ideology, clearly see that having dispensed with categories, frameworks, and traditional roles in each other’s lives has come at a great cost. Everyone thinking themselves exceptions to the rules, basking in the shock value as they express their uniqueness—only to find themselves, years later, anxious and depressed, drowning in resentment.