I Dont Want to Talk about It: Overcoming the Secret Legacy of Male Depression

Hopefully the book will be worth the read. This book should have been rated as poor.

I am on my second reading of this book. My first reading profoundly moved and disturbed me. It's like having a veil lifted and seeing with a little bit more clarity some of those things about myself I've never been able to quite understand. If you've ever had those moments when you catch yourself wondering, "Why am I not feeling (emotionally) anything at this moment?" or "Why did I get that angry?" you might want to brace yourself for a very insightful and upsetting read. I went into this trying to do some research on what was going on with my son, only to learn a few things about what was going on with me, and also my father.

This is a well written book about male depression, filled with case studies that the author has overseen throughout his years as a psychotherapist. The style of prose is easy to read and the book avoids technical jargon. A distinction is made between covert (or hidden) depression and overt depression - the type which is plain for the world to see. Covert depression in many cases is hidden from the victim himself. The author suggests a strong link between covert depression and addictive behavior.Although the book was very educational, it left me with an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Case after case after case of abuse, violence, despair and hate leaves the reader with a profound sorrow and a feeling that the world is a terrible place. Male depression is a "legacy" in the sense that it can be passed down through the generations. In many cases, a father is not able to come to grips with his own psychological afflictions and in turn these manifest themselves in the child when he grows up to be a man.Male depression can also spring from cultural expectations. Men try to conform to the stereotype of "strong, silent". If a man is an alcoholic or addicted gambler, these are conditions that are seen as curable. However, if a man chooses to discuss his emotions or behaves in a manner which might be considered as feminine, then he is avoided like a leper and socially ostracized. The book concludes with a powerful message - that it is necessary in life to nurture relationships and have a goal in life that is larger than personal gratification. This is a personal quest on which I am currently embarking.I have no negative things to say about the book and would highly recommend its purchase!

I've struggled with depression since childhood. I've read volume after volume on the subject. Most of it, however earnest, just blows smoke.This one's different. Real is the only therapist I've read who captures the anger behind depression--dammit, harm has been done to innocent people, and the pain they suffer is unrecognised, devalued or morally stigmatised becuse the sufferers happen to be male. The rage they feel against the perpetrator(s)never gets a focus. After all, it would be focussed on the people who cared for you as you grew. What does one do if the hand that beats you is the hand that feeds you? You do what you need to survive the moment. You stay fed. Only later do you fail to thrive. Terrence Real focusses his own rage on this injustice--and rage, indeed, he does. He suffered the abuse that leads to depression, and now helps men face it squarely. Like an ugly scab, healing ain't always pretty. If you never properly clean and dress a wound, grotesque scars disfigure you. Real tells the stories of men who have put the time, effort and care into healing. It ain't easy. But having done so, their scars heal clean, and a happier life begins. Other so-called self-help books (the "inner-child" movement springs to mind) seem to argue that learning to love your scars is the road to happiness. Poppycock. (I might also add that this is less a self-help book than a political and moral treatise. If sufferers find it helpful, that's a by-product.) Personally, I think Real lets women off the hook too easily in this book. Having endured the female-dominated "caring professions" to effect my own cure, I think Real ought to empahsise the complicity of women in the patriarchy (which he rightly labels as damaging to both sexes). Even quite enlightened women patronise men who try to be strong and scorn them when they allow themselves to be weak. In their effort to stamp out male aggression, they demean male strength--a strength which women who wish to heal might well wish they had. Real is the first scholar I've read to point out that the patriarchy actually harms men more than it harms women. It certainly proves fatal more often. He is the first therapist I know to make a case that men are MORE emotional than women; not the insensitive droogs of feminist caricature. Against a background of shallow, ineffectual, touchy-feely self-help gurus, Real stands out as a straight talker. To borrow a phrase from the patriarchy, he's results-oriented. And that ain't a bad thing.Real? An aptly named author.

"I Just Don't Want to Talk About It" by Terrence Real may just save my marriage and give me back the man I married 33 years ago. As I read this book, I cried. My husband and I were on every page. Finally, I understand the hell we've been living in for so long. A psychotherapist for twenty years, author Terrence Real exposes the pain the isolation, the workaholism,the disconnection that signal covert male depression. He is conservative in his estimates. I would say most men suffer from depression at some point in their lives. And they suffer longer because they have been taught to repress, to deny. Thank you, Terry. I'm bringing your book to our next counseling session. We may live happily ever after, after all.