Success can make distress harder to see. In an account by psychiatrist Darren Lee, some of the executives, entrepreneurs, doctors, lawyers and other high achievers he meets are also among the people most dissatisfied with their lives.
These are people who run companies and families, carry major responsibilities and are relied on by others. Their work ethic may be admired from the outside even when their inner lives are becoming increasingly difficult to manage.
When work keeps difficult feelings at a distance
Lee illustrates this pattern through Holly, a fictional client and one of the source’s fictional amalgams—not a real, identifiable individual.
In her early 40s, Holly held an executive role in a demanding organisation. She was ambitious, respected and known for an extraordinary work ethic. Behind that reputation, however, she had experienced years of depressive symptoms and worsening substance use, much of which she concealed from family, friends and colleagues.
She struggled to sleep and increasingly used alcohol to switch off at night. At times, she felt profoundly sad or numb, yet continued working. She often put in 12-hour days and said that staying busy stopped her from thinking. Achievement offered a sense of control and temporarily reassured her that she was doing well in life.
After Holly’s GP recommended a residential treatment program, her care addressed both depression and substance use. It also explored questions involving self-esteem, safety, intimacy and identity.
The hidden side of “resilience”
The account questions whether traits commonly praised as resilience always tell the whole story. Lee describes how an unpredictable childhood had led Holly to monitor adults’ moods, avoid causing problems and become fiercely independent. Academic success brought praise and improved her self-esteem.
Over time, some of those adaptations could look like strengths. Fear of failure could contribute to perfectionism. Difficulty resting could be mistaken for drive. Sensitivity to other people’s moods could appear to be emotional perceptiveness.
This does not mean that ambition, discipline or professional success are inherently unhealthy. Lee also describes ambition as something that can grow from curiosity, passion, purpose, competitiveness and genuine enjoyment. The concern is what achievement is doing in a person’s life—and whether it has become something they feel they need rather than something they freely pursue.
Making room for what achievement can conceal
According to the account, slowing down can allow difficult emotions to surface. That can make strategies such as relentless work, alcohol, drugs or compulsive exercise feel temporarily useful while creating problems of their own.
Holly’s treatment eventually involved creating more space in her life, learning to sit with her feelings and separating her sense of worth from her role and productivity. The aim was not simply to remove every productive behaviour, but to understand what was driving it.
That distinction offers a useful way to think about high achievement: not as evidence of wellbeing or evidence of illness, but as one part of a person’s life that may have different meanings. The same work ethic can reflect enjoyment and purpose in one context, and fear, avoidance or a need for control in another.
Lee’s account makes no universal claim about successful people. Its central point is narrower: outward competence can coexist with significant distress, and the behaviours most admired by others may sometimes help a person avoid recognising what they are feeling.
AI tools were used to assist with the preparation of this article.
Leave a Reply