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I RECENTLY HAD THREE retired men visit my psychology practice, each grappling with depression. Just as women face special challenges during their senior years, so too do their husbands, fathers and male friends.
Who hasn’t been seduced by those syrupy commercials where an elderly couple hold hands while walking a sun-kissed beach? Retirement is advertised as a magic carpet transporting us to a well-earned destination of meaning and frolic. But the reality is more complicated. Aging and illness can leave a hoped-for blissful retirement instead fraught with peril and disappointment.
My three clients felt betrayed and unprepared for retirement’s melancholy side. They were unanchored, in physical retreat and isolated without the social skills needed to nurture relationships. They’re in grief, mourning the loss of who they were and smarting at the limits that old age imposes.
Maybe you’re one of the fortunate few for whom retirement is unambiguously rich in renewal and self-regard. But for those of us too trusting or caught unawares, retirement often leaves a bittersweet mix of fulfillment and despair. Perhaps you or your loved ones have been blindsided by the ravages of aging that stalk our senior years.
Inspired by the experiences of my patients, I’d like to illustrate several of the hurdles men encounter while navigating their retirement years. All three men were treated by me, and I referred them for evaluation for possible medication. The details of their psychotherapy have been substantially modified to protect their identity.
Gary was a successful restaurateur who handed over daily operations to his daughter. He remained as a consultant, hoping that would ease his transition to a more balanced life. But that arrangement soon proved insufficient. Gary experienced a profound loss of purpose. He felt little reason to start the day and struggled to get out of bed.
Gary was skilled at home repairs, so I encouraged him to find projects around the house to inject meaning into his life and to rebuild his self-esteem. He started to lay new tile in his master bathroom, but has so far been unable to complete the job. Depression, and the resulting low energy, can lead to difficulty with task completion, further exacerbating a patient’s self-criticism.
In retirement, men’s sense of prestige and well-being hinges on their money savvy, just as it did during their working years. Problem is, once they give up their paycheck, they can no longer claim the provider role. On top of that, an often younger, still-employed wife may now be the breadwinner, which can be another ego blow. But perhaps the most corrosive yet utterly preventable damage occurred years earlier: While in the workforce, they failed to live below their means and invest the difference wisely, so now they don’t have enough for a financially comfortable retirement.
Harold and his wife Ginger are in this predicament. She abandoned a promising teaching career to raise her two kids, leaving Harold to earn the wherewithal to cover the family’s living costs and save for retirement. He handled the support part well, but muffed on saving and investing. Ginger has been understanding of her husband’s financial oversights, but there’s been a price to pay. Because they didn’t save enough for retirement, they plan to supplement their Social Security benefits and savings with part-time jobs at an auto garage and bookstore, reflecting their respective interests in cars and reading.
Health care surprises can be devastating psychologically as well as physically. Whether chronic or acute, debilitating or temporary, medical events’ emotional aftermaths aren’t unique to men. Still, masculinity doubts are our exclusive domain. Yes, societal expectations can have a pernicious effect on women. But we would be remiss to neglect their contribution to depression among male retirees.
A virile man is an active man, and aging takes a toll on our physical capabilities. One afternoon, Paul came into my office unusually agitated. His bad back had prevented him from finishing his morning walk to a coffee shop, something that had been part of his and his wife Julie’s routine ever since he retired six years ago. Julie was particularly upset about Paul’s inability to accompany her because their walks had become a way to have quality time together. As an alternative, I suggested weekly picnic lunches in the park. Both products of California, Paul and Julie were also enthusiastic about joining a yoga class to gently exercise Paul’s weak back.
But Paul’s setback had deeper repercussions. He began to ruminate about his father’s early demise at age 49, and the inevitability of his own physical and mental decline. He was haunted by his lack of control over the finality of death. Even when elderly, men are expected to be strong and stoic as they near the end. Paul was open to my suggestion to share his fears with his pastor and to familiarize himself with the soothing spirituality of Eastern religions.
Let’s face it, we men are social Neanderthals. Most of us have relied on our partners to bring people into our life. We make a few friends at the job, but we’re socially adrift after leaving the workplace. How many of us call friends just to chat? Many men only sparingly allow themselves to be vulnerable enough to initiate new friendships or even maintain longstanding ones. Are you willing to keep up a friendship when you always have to be the pursuer?
To be sure, our life’s last chapter can be a time of expanding horizons and gratifying intimacy with family and friends. But retirement also necessarily portends trouble and travail, and it challenges us to achieve peace with ourselves and our susceptibility to aging’s relentless march.
Steve Abramowitz is a psychologist in Sacramento, California. Earlier in his career, Steve was a university professor, including serving as research director for the psychiatry department at the University of California, Davis. He also ran his own investment advisory firm. Check out Steve’s earlier articles.
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Steve…
I retired January 5th, 2024. Why? It was time.
My father, a career soldier and a man who reached his life long goal of retiring as the CSM of US Army Special Forces said,”If you don’t respect the person you are working for you have to respect yourself enough to find a new employer.
Over the past 2-3 years, I was working for an institution that was overly focused on “DEI,” and Social Justice initiatives, to the detriment of our primary mission, educating financial professionals. Because I have always been quite conservative in my personal and professional life, I found this over concentration on matters unrelated to the mission of training financial professionals to fall under my father’s definition of respecting myself enough to make a change.
As you know, from your background in academia, the opportunities for a white, 73 year old, conservative, male faculty member, regardless of his credentials, are quite limited. This being the case, I simply decided that I would retire, rather than be associated with the demise of my institution. I hope I am wrong and I hope that changes will come in the areas where I feel they are most needed, and the college will once again find its way. When and if it does, I will once again support my institution financially. Until then, I am rerouting my giving to other institutions what have shared values.
That brings me to your articles main points, being ready for the realities of retirement.
I have redirected my efforts on improving my health, in order to be able to enjoy my retirement years. I actually began these efforts shortly after giving my notice to the college, back in July of 2023. Since last August I have lost 52 pounds and 5 weeks ago I began going to the gym every other day.
Both my wife and I will be having minor surgeries in March, and beginning in April, we will begin traveling. To The Villages in Florida in April, for a lifestyle visit, to Branson, MO in May, for fun, to Western PA in June, to evaluate PA as a retirement option. In July & August, we will spend some time at the beach in NC, evaluating beach living as a permanent option. (Not really my hot button, but definitely my wife’s.) In the Fall, we will visit OK and TX, where we lived for almost 25 years in the 80’s and 90’s. And in the holiday season, we plan to gather with our two adult children and their spouses either at a beach or somewhere fun, like Las Vegas.
And while doing all this, I hope to be laying some ground work to find ways to serve others with my financial knowledge and background, on a pro bono basis. In addition, I have decided to visit a few old friends from my youth and make some new ones, by joining and actively participating in activities of the VFW and American Legion. (I am a Viet Nam Vet.)
I have often wondered if I would benefit from therapy, since I tend to be one of those people that derives joy mainly from giving and doing for others vs. for myself, but is that really such a bad thing?
Only in my 2nd month of retirement, all I can say is so far, so good.
Thanks for a great article!
“ Paul came into my office unusually agitated. His bad back had prevented him from finishing his morning walk to a coffee shop, something that had been part of his and his wife Julie’s routine ever since he retired six years ago. As an alternative, I suggested weekly picnic lunches in the park.”
Obviously stories are abbreviated to fit in the column and to protect privacy, but I hope you also urged him to have a complete physical if he had not had his problem evaluated. Back pain is common but you don’t want to miss a case in which physical therapy can provide improvement. Teaching hospitals such as UC Davis have comprehensive back care clinics.
You picked up on an excellent point. I should have mentioned he was already in the care of a PT. I did refer him to an internist to set in motion investigation of whether the source of his pain was something more serious.
As it is in any time of life, best to focus on what you do with time rather than what time is doing to you. Remaining identified with work or other identities is an attachment to be reckoned with. The Eastern practices that tell you you are not your thoughts or emotions (or your job) are very helpful. I really missed the kudos that come from work, so I now do volunteer work in my area of expertise in my community, and retain one paying client. I still do all of the other things like hiking and traveling, but that didn’t seem fulfilling on it’s own. On the other hand I have a 65 year old friend who’s life is fly fishing, hiking, mountain biking, and skiing. To each his own.
You seem to be a textbook case for how to carve out a well-balanced and meaningful retirement. I have had a number of patients who find solace in the peacefulness of the Eastern religions. I wouldn’t rule out some gratifying part-time work, especially right after leaving a full-time job. For some people, it’s a bridge to rebuilding structure and purpose.
”get a dog.” and all that that implies…
my wife insisted we get a dog. she
passed suddenly 2 months later. i retired
the following year. that dog gets me out of
bed [literally] every day. two bad knees,
but rarely a bad attitude.
Well said. Dogs can be good for our physical and mental health.
Excellent article.
Thanks so much for taking the time to read it.
Great article Steve. Thanks for sharing.
I am 79 and retired for 13 years. In retirement, I planned to be a volunteer, part time management consultant for a global ministry. That worked well for a few years but their management kept changing and later management did not need my services.
That was disappointing but I serve on 2 retiree boards and remain active in my church. Injuries and chronic conditions have slowed me down some but I continue to remain active. My wife has serious mobility issues which limits our travel. Old age has a series of adjustments and we need to adapt as best we can with a positive attitude.
I think the most important thing for retirees is to still have a purpose for their life. That could be volunteer work, family, helping others or hobbies. Without that, I can easily see why people get depressed.
Hi Jerry
You touch on so any important issues. Let me try to expand on two of them. Especially if we question our original career choice, we imagine how much more a different work life might have been. We jump in when we retire and at first things are real cozy. And some people do find that their hunch was correct. But others find that life—including retirement part-time work can be less satisfying and less free of the usual job hassles and unfairness than we imagined. In my case, I had longed to become a part-time independent investment advisor and when I got hired by Schwab I was ecstatic. But the actual day-to-day work was very disappointing, like the mountain of paperwork and the resistance of many clients to index funds. They just couldn’t get over the implausible premise that their money would do as well or better and be safe even without a portfolio manager. To make a long and sometimes painful story short, I retired from that experiment after two years. I have fortunately been able to move on to other more realistically gratifying pursuits, as you have adaptively done.
Steve,
This posting is 100% accurate.
I have been fully retired now for almost a decade and, at various times, have felt many – if not all – the symptoms you describe.
Unfortunately, it seems that no matter how well prepared you think you are for retirement, something happens you can’t possibly anticipate.
Thank you for this and all your other posts.
i think our society paints a too one-sided and rosy picture of retirement. It ‘s probably that we need to look forward to a break from our lifetime of hard work. Sometimes when parents escape many of the travails—like early death of family or friends—or simply denied the suffering and fear, their children may well be unprepared. Although I had many issues with my own parents, being realistic about the decline of functioning in the senior years was not one of them. When my father was given three years to live because of his heart disease, I asked him if he was scared to die. He said, “No, Stevie, I’ve had a good life.” I am the same age as he was then (78) and, although my prognosis is not nearly so dire, his words bring solace to me now.
As the saying goes, old age is not for the fainthearted. However, confusing your identity with your job can lead to problems at any age. What if you get laid off, or the company moves to another state, or you can’t stand a new boss?
Of course, the cult of youth (and beauty) in the US doesn’t help anyone.
Hi My Time to Travel
So glad you brought up the pressure for women to be beautiful and not overweight. How many obese cheerleaders do you see on the sidelines? I have even heard stories of airline stewardesses being told to lose weight or who feel they don’t belong in that profession because their appearance has withered with age. As seniors men of course are considered distinguished and learned. I have (much) gray hair, but I’m often complimented on my “silver” hair.
Steve, I see similar problems in some of my physical therapy patients, men who are grieving over their lost youth. Accepting the inevitability of aging is more difficult for some of us, and it’s easy to get sucked into the idea of perpetual youth.
In youth, masculinity is rewarded and passivity is shamed. But, yes, the loss of mastery and as you say the inevitability of death are particularly difficult to accept. In gym class as a kid, I could dribble a basketball but I was fearful of tucking my head under to do a somersault. I remember that embarrassment to this day.
My parents viewed life as hard and us kids should tough it out and “buckle up.” Often to my detriment I have taken that message to heart. Your post has special relevance for me just today. I have had chronic lower back pain from for at least 15 years. After shrugging off the advice of chiropractors, my Pilates instructor, friends and physical therapists!—I finally succumbed and yesterday I was given an epidural steroid injection and was told I should see some results in 2 weeks or so. This morning, less than 24 hours since the shot, I have no back pain. Great so far but I must admit I felt that, now standing up straight rather than stooped over, I was now more a “real man.” This masculinity stuff is hard to shake off.
Glad to hear you got some relief. Apparently, your doctor was skilled in locating the source of your pain and in placing the needle. I hope the result lasts a long time.
I thought I was well prepared for retirement. I knew that the Magic carpet would need good lower lumbar support. I knew that many of my friendly ex colleagues wouldn’t be joining me on the carpet ride. I braced myself for the change from saver to spender.
Still, I ended up confused by this new stage of life. Like those before me, I adapted soon enough.
I also adapted to the mid-life ponderings I had in my 50’s. Funny, in both circumstances, once I got past it, I could barely remember what the fuss was about.
I’m proud to work through my own problems. But a large part of that is absorbing the information that you and those like you have generously made available for all to read. Thank you. You’ve been a big help.
Hi M Plate
Thanks for your kind words. It’s always nice to hear you are not just being read but are also being helpful.
Seems like you have been more than “absorbing.” Either because of your early role models or simply because of your perseverance and wisdom gained along the way, you’ve turned what has left so many others unprepared or unable to make the passage from midlife to the senior years into a fulfilling time. Congratulations!
I really identify with M Plate’s comment above, especially the sentiment he expresses in his 3rd paragraph. I also want to express appreciation for the thoughts in this and similar articles. They’ve helped a lot.
Thank you so much!
Passage from vibrant young adult to midlife is no slam dunk either. I actually think that, even with our masculinity baggage, this particular season of life may be even harder for women.
I thought I would be a candidate for a tough transition to retirement, but I wasn’t. I was absorbed by my work, I was at the top of my career I enjoyed my job and did for nearly 50 years, but at 67 I retired voluntarily.
I’m nearly 80 now and slowing down, a round of golf is real exercise, my wife at 84 has severe back issues that limit her mobility so future travel is questionable but we are trying. We are fighting to not give up.
Do your patients perhaps have underlying issues unrelated to retirement that make the transition difficult?
I feel for those who struggle, but have little empathy for those with financial issue if they had the opportunity and ability to do better, but didn’t.
The reality is when we enter the door to retirement we enter a hallway at the end of which is the exit door. We all hope for a long and enjoyable walk.
What a sensitive and articulate post!
From your own articles it seems you were diligent and reliable and climbed to the top of your profession. I can well understand how it may feel so many want what you have earned, but “for free.” I agree that many people are out to “game the system,” as you correctly pointed out a few months ago in your post about abuses in applying for health insurance. I also think that, by the lottery of birth and good parenting, there are some people who simply don’t have your ability to adjust and cope with llfe’s hard knocks. But maybe, as a psychologist caring for some of those people, I have been blind to what you have more accurately seen.