I wondered about a possible parallel in childhood.
I thought, too, that in childhood, it was probably my Dad who was deeply depressed and hopeless but no one was allowed to express it and me, being the lovely one that I am, offered to take on that role.
I see it also playing out with my H, in that he hasn't dealt with his own losses and his own grief and as long as I was willing to play the role of the depressed wife, he was actually happy or content or thought he was. I was containing his feelings. Yikes! This therapy stuff is getting to me!!!