In this episode, Mormon Matters host Dan Wotherspoon and panelists—LDS therapists Natasha Helfer Parker and Marybeth Raynes, and philosopher and intellectual historian James McLachlan—discuss these messages and their persistence, the strength of the evidence for their accuracy, and their effects on people in general and those prone to depression and anxiety in particular. As all the panelists recognize, it is important to strike a healthy balance between optimism and pessimism, and there is a strong need for everyone to be alert to dangers and take reasonable steps for their protection. But for those who haven’t found this balance (or for those who love someone like this), they offer suggestions for how people might learn to concentrate on different, more positive messages. They also discuss possible ways we might talk with and offer fresh framings about the world situation to our children and loved ones who are overly wrought with doomsday fears.

If it’s possible to “enjoy” a discussion about apocalyptic anxiety, we hope you will do just that! And then please join in the conversation in the comments discussion below.

I cut myself. I now recognize the desperation I was feeling. I needed a way to cope. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t hold myself together. Cutting made it better. I was not treated for depression until I was 18. I resent my parents for not getting me help sooner. They could clearly see my wounds.

I now resent my scars. I hate them. I feel well and truly happy, but they are a reminder to me. Like the Scarlet Letter of depression. They haunt me. I don’t spend any time thinking about them until I notice someone looking at them. A doctor, my friend or my biggest worry, my children. I can handle anyone’s questions or gawking other than my children. My oldest is five and the questions are bound to come. I know patterns are often repeated and I wanted to teach my daughter healthy ways to deal with her feelings. How do I answer the questions? Should I be honest and straightforward? Elusive? Make up a really clever lie? Thank you for your help.

I am grateful that you wrote in about such an important and increasingly prevalent topic. Self-mutilation through cutting has become a far too common way for adolescents in particular to deal with anxiety, depression, low self-esteem, etc. In some circles it may even be seen as a fad. It is more prevalent with adolescent girls than boys. I am sorry to hear that you suffered greatly during this time of your life. It is not uncommon for parents to be in denial or overwhelmed when they see their daughters cutting. Since they don’t know what to do or what they’re up against, many do nothing hoping the behavior is just a phase and that it will stop. I am glad to hear that you persevered, got treatment and find yourself in such a healthy place today.

You are right that these scars are visible, and that they will attract attention throughout your life. I don’t know if you have discussed with your doctor the possibility of scar reduction through prescriptive creams, ointments and/or plastic surgery. I’m assuming, however, that none of these may work completely and that there may also be price constraints.

Seeing as how your scars may always be a part of your life, I would hope that you may come to see them as a badge of honor rather than a “scarlet letter.” Instead of reminding you of the many negatives they have come to represent regarding the depression and hopelessness you once felt, I wonder how you could recalibrate your thought process to have them represent the strength, resilience and courage it took for you to get where you are today. Once you make this mental shift, you can then be very straightforward and honest about their origins and your ultimate success. I can’t think of a better way to ensure that your daughter not follow in the negative patterns you fear. When we deal with our children in an honest and straightforward fashion, we earn their respect and trust. Especially when we tell them about things we struggled with. This can make us so much more human and approachable in their eyes. If you don’t tell them the truth, your children will eventually figure it out for themselves anyway – and adolescents in particular are very touchy about finding out their parents are “liars.” They will most likely use it against you.

A very simple explanation could go as follows:

“When I was a teenager I had a lot of problems that I didn’t know how to work out. The only thing I could think of to make me feel better would be to cut myself on my arms. See.. (let them touch and feel your scars). This was not a healthy way to deal with my feelings. Part of my job as your mom is to make sure you don’t ever feel like you have to do this. Working together as a team, we can figure out lots of better ways to deal with our feelings (like talking, crying, taking a time-out, praying, writing, etc.). That’s what I eventually learned how to do.”

When you tell a child a truth, even a difficult one, they usually take it much more calmly than we as adults would expect. Children are incredibly adaptable creatures. What causes children more anxiety than difficult truth, is the underlying tension and uncertainty secrets bring. And this underlying tension that many times well-meaning adults don’t realize they are causing by withholding information can cause havoc in later years. I would encourage you to answer your children honestly from the time they first ask you. If they’re capable enough to ask the question, they are capable enough to get a legitimate answer. As they grow older, you may fill in more of the details as you see fit and appropriate. You don’t have to share every sorted detail in order to offer a truthful reply.

I would also challenge you to begin to think about how your scars may act as a teaching tool. There are many adolescent girls who are struggling today just as you once did. You could be an incredible resource to the young women in your ward and stake as well as to your community junior high and high schools. I don’t know if you’ve given much thought to being a spokesperson, but you might find this a highly rewarding way to utilize your scars. And as more people in your community get to know you and your history, you would automatically find more acceptance and less stares from those who would now look at you with respect and as a survivor. The impact you could have would be far reaching.

My wish for you is that you may find the dignity behind what your scars represent – your ability and willingness to heal! And with that dignity, may you hold your head up high and be a beacon of truth and light for your children and quite possibly the children of others. I feel strongly the prompting to tell you that you are beautiful. I may never have laid eyes on you or your scars, but I know this is how our Father and Mother see you – arms and all. May you bask in your beauty and know that your children also see you as such.

I am including references to articles that may be of use to those who want to learn more about this subject and who may have adolescent children struggling with similar issues.

When I was a teenager I suffered from an almost crippling depression. It kept me from developing meaningful and balanced relationships with people (though I had many good friends) and it caused me to be very angry with God at times. There was a scripture that pierced me to the heart in the same way that Joseph Smith describes being pierced by James’ admonition to ask of God for wisdom, and it was Christ’s plea to His father, “My God, why hast thou forsaken me?” I remember walking in the cold through my neighborhood at night, looking up at the stars and saying quietly, “Why hast thou forsaken me?” to whomever would listen.

That scripture didn’t make sense to me. I felt that way sometimes. I felt that God had abandoned me, or forsaken me, and I didn’t know why. It bothered me, and so I periodically would ask people to explain to me the purpose of that scripture. Usually they’d rehash the same answer that everyone else did: “Christ had to feel everything that we feel, so He had to feel loneliness.” This answer made me mad. It completely didn’t help me, and I felt that all these Mormons were just robots, programmed to say “Christ had to feel everything that we feel, so He had to feel loneliness” when asked about that scripture. Now and then someone would reference Skousen’s work on the Atonement and this gave me a different perspective on the matter, but didn’t satisfy me. The question was never really answered to my satisfaction and it was very frustrating. And so years passed without me ever knowing what I had to gain from Christ’s plea.

Last year, I raised my hand in Institute after we studied Christ’s last moments on the cross, and I asked my Institute teacher what the meaning of that scripture was. This is an Institute teacher that I loved and respected greatly (and still love and respect), and his answer was, in effect, “Christ had to feel everything that we feel, so he had to feel loneliness.” In frustration, I sank in my chair, silent. After class I talked to my teacher and told him that I’ve been vexed by that scripture for a long time, and perhaps it’s something I’m just going to have to ask God when I meet him. The issue was closed for a time and I stopped thinking about it.

Months passed, and I have slowly learned how to live without depression crippling me. I feel less angry and I find meaning in more of my life. These lessons were not learned easily. It took hard work, tears, and little packages from God throughout the years of my life.

Two weeks ago I attended a fireside in Louisville, Kentucky, featuring Elder Richard G. Scott. My mind raced the whole time. At the beginning of the fireside, I met with my sister who delivered to me a small, black box with a diamond ring that came from my grandfather. He knew I’m not a rich man, and I was planning on asking a beautiful young lady to marry me soon. I sat in a chair on the stand (I was in the choir) with this diamond ring in my pocket, wondering if this was the right decision for me. Skeptically I looked at the back of Elder Scott’s head.

I knew Elder Scott is an apostle, and I respected that, but I came to the meeting with a sour attitude.  I was certain that there was nothing he could say that I hadn’t heard before. I needed real answers. I didn’t want any of the watered-down, useless stuff I hear so often in church, stuff like, “Christ had to feel everything that we feel, so he had to feel loneliness.” I’ve been so frustrated with answers like that and didn’t expect to hear anything more useful. I knew that if I wanted real answers it was up to me.

Elder Scott spent the first 30 minutes of his presentation trying to get his laptop projector to work. I mused on the idea that everything he was trying to do with his Photoshop program and expensive projector, he could have done with a chalkboard, and a chalkboard is much cheaper and the learning curve is quite a bit more manageable than a laptop as well, and why are we always inventing things that are suppose to improve our life but end up being complicated and difficult versions of what we already have that break and go obsolete faster?  I sank deeper in my chair. Elder Scott then said a few things about revelation and opened the floor to questions.

Again my cynicism was reinforced.  When you allow the regular folk to ask whatever questions they want, what you’re going to get is a lot of lousy questions that waste everybody’s time.  I sat through a few of those and fiddled with my thumbs a bit.

It was then that Elder Scott taught me something that left an incredible impression on me, and probably will till the day I die, because he answered the question that had troubled me for ten years.  Someone asked him, “What can you teach us about the Atonement?”  I sighed quietly to myself.

Elder Scott began to speak on Christ’s Atonement, and then completely out of the blue, he referenced Christ’s last few sentences on the cross.  He told us that Christ said, “Why hast thou forsaken me?” because God had withdrawn from him, and God had withdrawn from him as an expression of trust.

Suddenly it all made sense. My teenage depression made sense. My hurt, my pain, my trials all made sense. Christ taught that He did nothing of Himself, but only did as He was commanded of God. It was like a father, holding the handlebars of his child’s bike, teaching him how to ride. Without getting into the particulars of how closely God managed Christ’s works throughout His life, I saw this father pushing his child on a bike, and at the last moment letting go, trusting that the child would continue pedaling.  God didn’t just let go, he stepped away from the bike. God was showing us that He trusts Jesus, and if God trusts Jesus, then we can, too.

This was the answer that I’ve always been looking for, and it’s led me to consider much of what has been said in the Bloggernacle and by those who feel disillusioned by the Church.  I’ve felt disillusioned by the Church now and then.  I’ve felt forgotten by God and I’ve felt insignificant.  I felt that I didn’t have a place, or that I’m too “different.”  Sometimes God lets go of the handlebars, but I kept pedaling, and so that’s my advice to those who feel the same way.  Keep pedaling.  It means He trusts you.  So many feel God letting go and simply stop pedaling and fall over.  I’ve thought about the words of my Uncle John as he pondered the people he has seen struggle with the Church: so many who “trade down” once they leave, never finding the same happiness again. I can’t speak for everyone but in my life there was value in just pedaling when God lets go.

When Elder Scott finished and bore his testimony of Christ I knew what I needed to do. Last Wednesday I asked a beautiful, wonderful, and nurturing young woman to marry me. But I also saw Christ. Not in a literal sense, but in that chapel, in my mind’s eye, Christ became a real figure to me. A real being that could have been standing at the pulpit in Elder Scott’s place. I saw Him walking with His apostles, and I saw Him teaching them. And here was an apostle in every sense of the word standing before me, doing what apostles are called to do: tell us that Christ is real. He lives. He wants us to be happy. He died for us.

Being an apostle meant so much to me that day, and more to me now. Thank God for apostles and their service to us.

Coming to a theatre near you (if you live in Utah) March 28th

One miracle after another occurs through the passion of one full time single father whose original intention was to reunite his 12-year-old daughter with her addicted mother.Deep in the heart of Utah, commonly referred to as “Happy Valley,” residents enjoy one of the lowest crime rates, highest literacy and language fluency – even the most jello consumption – across the nation. Yet under the glossy exterior of this beautiful community, there are less popular categories that Happy Valley contends in but doesn’t advertise, including prescription drug abuse, double the national average of anti-depressant drugs, even suicide. In Happy Valley at least one teen per week dies from drug overdose. 

The real-life true story, Happy Valley, sheds light on the growing problem of prescription drug abuse in Utah County and, as importantly, the associated issues of denial, conformity, social pressure and guilt. The film intimately follows several lives and families that have been dramatically affected by prescription drug abuse leading to street drug abuse and addiction. From these stories and a single father’s journey to reunite a family emerge unconditional love, forgiveness, acceptance… even transformation. Examples…One: Meet Danny. From all appearances, Danny is an extremely successful entrepreneur with a beautiful family, prominent in both his community and church. However, Danny has harbored a secret addiction for more than 15 years. Danny’s courage to risk everything for recovery inspires throughout the film. Two: “Greg” takes us through the high and lows of drug abuse with humility and honesty. Initially, Greg agreed only to be an anonymous participant for the film’s research, however, his story becomes so powerful that he chooses the path of recovery. Greg surrenders to his addiction, portraying endless personal transformation and growth.Three: A harrowing story of heartbreaking addiction, broken families, and even death is told from inside prison walls, both literal and emotional. A mother and daughter’s story ends with consequences but also the discovery of the exhilarating freedom that comes through forgiveness. The miracle in all of this is, how the movie ends. Unbelievable.These miracles and more become the heart of Happy Valley with additional interviews from the State Medical Examiner, residents, local undercover cops, doctors and recovering addicts. The film also touches on the reality that we are the sickest generation of Americans ever and the disturbing blur between pharmaceutical and street drugs.Happy Valley will open your eyes to a culture where denial and guilt are instinctive, and it will open your heart to the people who are brave enough to face it and step through it.”I did not find this story, it found me. It was long overdue. The whole project is a miracle. The intent is to create in all of us the conversations we are avoiding. There are many forms of addiction, hence… ‘What’s in your Jello?’ “– Ron Williams, Director, Producer & CreatorWhat do you think?

• If the prescription drug abuse problem is as bad as the trailer and synopsis claim it is, do you think its because Utah is just more honest and get help where other States may suffer in silence due to denial or a poorer economy?

• The real-life true story, Happy Valley, sheds light on the growing problem of prescription drug abuse in Utah County and, as importantly, the associated issues of denial, conformity, social pressure and guilt. Is this synopsis also just hype for the movie or do your wards portray this?

• Or could it really be happening all around us but were not privy to who it’s happening to?