We’ve made huge progress in how openly we talk about mental health — yet there’s still a quiet, hidden corner that remains taboo. Few of us feel able to speak about what it’s like to live alongside someone else’s mental health struggles. The shame, silence, and isolation that can come with caring for or being close to a loved one in distress can be immense. This piece explores that invisible weight — and how somatic awareness, connection, and compassionate spaces can help us find steadiness and belonging again.
However on trend it is to speak about our own past mental health challenges on social media, and however commendable it is when the press gives space to public figures speaking up about their own experiences, there remains a significant part of this issue that is still hidden – still taboo in most social settings.
That is: talking about our experiences of living alongside someone else’s mental health struggles or illness, and the inevitable sense of isolation that goes hand in hand.
Being exposed to the ongoing stress, concern, and pressure of supporting someone – or living close to someone – who is suffering with addiction, depression, or even dementia inevitably comes with its own challenges.
How on earth do we begin to get support with these challenges if we can’t even talk about them?
The Absence of an Empathic Witness
Trauma is often described as the absence of an empathic witness.
Why don’t we talk about mental health in the same way we do physical health challenges?
If a loved one or family member was suffering from a chest infection or kidney infection and was in hospital, the word might get out – there might be flowers, offers of cooked dinners, or help with childcare. If it were chronic, there might be space to talk about the practical challenges and emotional concerns.
Perhaps this is because physical problems are more recognisably external – something we can see and therefore do something about. There’s a feeling of agency and progress.
But with mental health – it’s all inside: nebulous, changing, unpredictable, and essentially unknown. There may be no direct route toward change, but rather a slow navigation and reorientation around how to support this person differently.
It requires being with the unknown.
And so – how do we live well in ourselves when in close proximity to unconscious or unclaimed feelings and behaviours?
The Burden of Holding
Mental health challenges or mental illness are still not accepted in our society in the same way as physical illness. We may choose to speak with trusted friends about ourselves – and yet, where do we speak about how someone else’s mental health impacts our lives?
A good friend asks, “So how are you?” What do you say?
Even if we are okay sharing our inner experience, it may feel inappropriate or unethical to say what’s really going on – because it involves disclosing another person’s vulnerability.
So we might end up with: “I’m fine.”
And in that moment, the possibility for real connection, care, and understanding is missed.
Thus, the feelings of disconnection and isolation deepen.
In this moment, we may feel a need to preserve the privacy of the person who is suffering, or honour the relationship that holds these dynamics.
We may not want to betray their confidence. We may have agreed not to speak of their vulnerability to anyone. We may feel protective, or awkward about what is happening. So we cover up, put our best foot forward, override or downplay our authentic experience. In the inevitable silence, it can feel like we’re holding a big secret.
We all know what it’s like to carry an important secret – even briefly. It gets heavy. Restricting. It takes extra effort to hold. You want to put it down – but where, and how?
Depending on the closeness of the relationship, it can also become hard to discern where their experience ends and ours begins. We may start feeling powerless, exhausted, ashamed that we can’t do more, or in conflict with them about change. Confused about what to do – or where to go for support.
And your body will have his or her own story.
There may be a recognisable pattern of reaction:
– withdrawing and closing off from contact,
– or becoming highly active and busy,
– or total exhaustion from carrying it all.
What Can We Do?
It’s not as simple as “just speaking up,” because we’re also dealing with the privacy and confidentiality of another person’s vulnerability.
This is why specific group spaces and 1-to-1 therapeutic spaces are so valuable – they create space for the carer, while preserving the integrity of the relationship.
I chose this image of a single bird on a wire because, although alone, it is still connected – to something, or by something.
Rebuilding or strengthening our connections is the antidote to isolation, which can be so detrimental in itself.
Connections to our self – our own experience.
Connections to our body – the container that literally holds the tension. It does a lot of work, and it needs space to let go, to expand, to move.
Connections to our joy, faith, resources, and the places that sustain us.
Connections to others – to those in similar situations, in group spaces or therapeutic relationships that help us feel held by something wider than ourselves.
When we acknowledge something, it takes its place in the world.
It can be seen, felt, talked about, validated – and if no longer helpful, it is now available to the process of transformation.
The Role of Somatic Work
Somatic work helps us acknowledge and recognise what’s present.It supports us to attest to emotional pain, exhaustion, conflict, or struggle – to feel and know our own experience.
Knowing ourselves kinesthetically helps us see where our business ends and another’s begins. This is the practice of embodying our boundary. The beginning of which is quite literally, knowing where we stop and the other person starts.
This clarity is useful in all areas of life – but especially when close to someone whose emotions are very big and expressive, or conversely, deeply shut down.
Clarity allows us to disentangle ourselves.
And in doing so, we become clearer about how to care for another while also taking care of ourselves.
If this feels familiar — if you’re quietly holding the impact of someone else’s struggle — know that you’re not alone.
There are ways to be supported while preserving the dignity and privacy of those we care for.
In my 1-to-1 somatic sessions and group movement spaces, we gently make room for what’s been carried in silence — so the body can find ease, connection, and a sense of self again.
[Find out more about my 1-2-1 sessions and group offerings here.]
