Religious obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) is a type of OCD that causes a person obsess over spiritual fears. It often involves religious compulsions such as excessive prayer. For example, a person might worry they are going to Hell and repeat a mantra to cope with this fear. Religious OCD is also called “scrupulosity.”

Religious forms of OCD are fairly common. In the United States, a 2002 study suggested 33% of people with OCD have religious obsessions or compulsions. More religious countries such as Egypt seem to have even higher rates of scrupulosity, with up to 60% of OCD cases involving religious themes.

Religious OCD can turn religious faith, which is often a source of comfort and community, into a trigger for anxiety. The emotional pain can feel overwhelming, but scrupulosity is highly treatable. Therapy is a key component of effective treatment.

What is Religious OCD?

In religious OCD, a person has persistent negative or anxious thoughts about their spiritual life. These obsessions often interfere with daily functioning. Individuals may be unable to suppress or ignore these thoughts.

Some examples of religious obsessions include:

• Fear of not having enough faith.
• Fear of going to Hell.
• Fear of being unclean or contaminated according to the rules of one’s religion.
• Fear of committing immoral behavior.

Compulsions are behaviors people with OCD adopt to cope with their obsessions. They are often repetitive, time-consuming activities that the person does not enjoy. When a person cannot engage in their compulsions, their anxiety may rapidly escalate. Compulsions in religious OCD may or may not have religious themes.

Examples of religious compulsions include:

• Going to religious services much more often than is typical in one’s religion.
• Seeking continual reassurance from religious authorities.
• Performing acts of extreme self-denial or self-sacrifice.
• Obsessive prayer, repetition of mantras, or cleansing rituals. (For example, a person might repeat a prayer over and over until they say it exactly right.)

Unlike typical religious activity, spiritual compulsions are often motivated more by fear than faith. In many cases, people recognize that indulging in a compulsion won’t prevent their fears from becoming reality. Yet they may believe these compulsions are the only way to alleviate their anxiety.

What is the Difference Between Scrupulosity and Typical Religious Behavior?

Like the rest of the population, many people with OCD hold religious attitudes. It is common even for people without OCD to want to please God or religious authorities. So it can be difficult to distinguish typical religious attitudes from religious OCD.

Scrupulosity can affect members of any religious faith. The problem is anxiety, not religion. In general, religious behavior is considered compulsive if it doesn’t fit the cultural context. For example, a person may do cleansing rituals every day when their religion only mandates these rituals every week. Different communities of the same faith can have distinct expectations about religious behavior. The same actions may be typical in one place but considered excessive in another.

Another hallmark of religious OCD is that it undermines a person’s quality of life. It often causes extreme anxiety, guilt, and shame. A person may engage in rituals to the extent that they neglect work, school, or family obligations.

Scrupulosity can also interfere with one’s religious practices. An individual may focus so much on rules about cleanliness that they neglect other rituals. They may avoid attending religious ceremonies for fear of accidentally committing blasphemy. They may also believe other members of the faith do not take scripture seriously enough and feel isolated from their community as a result.

What Causes Religious OCD?

Religious OCD is not a distinct diagnosis. It is a specific manifestation of OCD. Thus, people with religious OCD may also have non-religious forms of OCD. Some people with religious OCD find their compulsions and obsessions change over time.

Like other types of OCD, the causes of religious OCD are not fully understood. Research suggests brains affected by OCD may have an imbalance of the neurotransmitter serotonin. This could be due to genetic factors, environmental factors, or a combination of the two. For example, a person with a family history of OCD might be more genetically vulnerable to the diagnosis. When something in the environment triggers their anxiety, OCD may appear.

A person’s obsessions may be more likely to have spiritual themes if:

• They live in a community in which religion is a large part of one’s identity and social life.
• They assign moral importance to fleeting religious doubts.
• They believe that God will harshly punish their religious or moral mistakes.

It’s important to note that religion alone will not cause OCD to appear. Scrupulosity can affect members of any religious faith. The problem is anxiety, not religion. Even if a person becomes an atheist or abandons their religion, they will still have OCD (The theme of their obsessions and compulsions may change though.).

Therapy for Religious OCD

Therapy is often indispensable to the treatment of OCD. In therapy, a person can learn to manage their anxiety in ways that don’t undermine their quality of life. A therapist will not require a person to give up their faith – they only treat a person’s anxiety about said faith. Several types of therapy can be helpful in the treatment of religious OCD:

Exposure and response prevention therapy (ERP). In ERP, a person is exposed to their fear and then prevented from doing their compulsion. For example, a person may be asked to imagine that God is angry with them. Then, the therapist will help the person calm down as they experience anxiety.

ERP can help individuals learn to tolerate religious anxiety. Over time, a person can learn to accept uncertainty and feel less pressure to do their compulsions.

Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT). This type of therapy can help with many forms of anxiety, including anxiety related to OCD. Cognitive behavioral therapy helps people detect, understand, and push back against automatic negative thoughts. For example, a Jewish person who fears they have accidentally eaten pork could be asked to assess the likelihood that meat was in their vegetarian salad.

CBT may be more helpful when one worries about concrete actions, such as saying a prayer wrong. CBT is generally less effective in addressing intangible fears, such as being destined for Hell. Due to the subjective nature of faith, debating the “logic” of religious beliefs may alienate the person in therapy.

Pastoral Counseling. Some people may find it easier to trust a therapist who shares their faith (especially when said faith is marginalized). Pastoral counseling incorporates spiritual elements such as scripture study or prayer. It can be especially helpful for people who worry that treatment means they must give up their religion.

Family Therapy: When religious OCD undermines family life, family counseling can help. If the affected individual is a young child, a therapist may use techniques suitable for their age. When religious OCD threatens a marriage, couples counseling can also help.

If you need help with religious OCD, you don’t have to cope with anxious thoughts and compulsions alone. Therapy can offer rapid, lasting improvements. You can find a therapist here.

References:

1. Abramowitz, J. S., & Jacoby, R. J. (2014). Scrupulosity: A cognitive–behavioral analysis and implications for treatment. Journal of Obsessive-Compulsive and Related Disorders, 3(1), 140-149. Retrieved from http://jonabram.web.unc.edu/files/2014/05/Scrupulosity-model-2014.pdf
2. Clinical definition of OCD. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://beyondocd.org/information-for-individuals/clinical-definition-of-ocd
3. Ehmke, R. (n.d.). Understanding religious OCD. Retrieved from https://childmind.org/article/understanding-religious-ocd
4. Exposure and response prevention (ERP). (n.d.). Retrieved from https://iocdf.org/about-ocd/treatment/erp
5. Rady, A., Salama, H., Wagdy, M., & Ketat, A. (2012). Religious attitudes in adolescents with obsessive compulsive symptoms OCS and disorder OCD. Global Journal of Health Science, 4(6), 216-221. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4777005
6. Scrupulosity [PDF]. (2010). Retrieved from https://iocdf.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/IOCDF-Scrupulosity-Fact-Sheet.pdf
7. What causes OCD? (n.d.). Retrieved from https://iocdf.org/about-ocd/what-causes-ocd

Regular attendance of religious services has declined with time, according to data from Gallup. Yet many Americans still say spirituality is an important part of their life. Over half (51%) of Americans say religion is “very important” to them, and 89% believe in God.

Spiritual beliefs (religion-specific or personal) can affect mental health. A new study published in Spirituality in Clinical Practice suggests spirituality may be an important aspect of quality treatment. According to the study, most young adults seeking treatment for serious mental health issues think spirituality is relevant to their well-being.

The relationship between mental health and spirituality is complex. It is neither consistently negative nor consistently positive. Clinicians who want to explore spirituality must be prepared to discuss a wide range of experiences and perspectives.

Young Adults Value Religion, Spirituality in Mental Health Treatment

The study used qualitative interviews to gather data on 55 young people aged 18 to 25 years old. Participants had been diagnosed with serious mental health issues such as schizophrenia and bipolar. They had all sought emergency mental health care. Researchers assessed how young adults seeking psychiatric care talked about religion and spirituality.

Thirty-four participants (61.8%) brought up spiritual topics in their interviews with little to no prompting. Many emphasized the important role spirituality played in their mental health. Some recurring themes included:

• Positive and negative effects of spirituality on mental health.
• Relationship with God.
• The role of religion in support systems and emotional wellness.

Many participants emphasized the complex role of spirituality in their lives. Thus, culturally sensitive counseling may be critical to helping youth explore the connection between spirituality and mental health. Some youth may be eager to discuss spiritual concerns, but uncertain about how to begin the conversation. Others may fear they will be judged for their religious conflicts.

Understanding the Link Between Religion, Spirituality, and Mental Health

Research has long suggested that spiritual beliefs can serve as a protective mechanism. Religious people might even live longer. A 2017 study found people who regularly attended religious services were 55% less likely to die during the 18-year study period (compared to secular peers). A 2016 study of women found similar results. Women who attended services more than once a week were 33% less likely to die during a 16-year period.

This apparent connection between spirituality and longevity may be because religion offers a sense of community and purpose. A 2014 review suggests religion and spirituality can bolster mental health by:

• Offering positive coping skills (such as prayer and meditation).
• Providing access to a supportive community.
• Encouraging positive beliefs, such as the idea that continued self-improvement offers a chance at a better life.

The effect of spirituality on mental health is not universally positive, however. The same study says religion and spirituality may damage mental health by:

• Encouraging unhealthy coping tools (such as excessive self-criticism).
• Leading to poor communication.
• Promoting harmful beliefs, such as the notion that mental health issues are a punishment from God.

Abusive or discriminatory religious beliefs can lead to harmful practices in therapy. Conversion therapy—a discredited form of therapy designed to alter a person’s sexual orientation—often draws on religious beliefs.

Spiritual issues can also play a role in mental health issues. For instance, a person who feels abandoned by God may be more vulnerable to depression. A crisis of faith can be a source of immense anxiety and guilt.

Incorporating Spiritual Beliefs Into Therapy

Even people of the same faith may have vastly different views on spirituality and religious experience. Some strategies that can help therapists respectfully and effectively discuss religion include:

• Understanding the role that religion and spirituality play in their own life. This can help therapists avoid projecting their own beliefs onto clients.
• Treating spirituality as one aspect of a person’s belief system, similar to their views on marriage or politics.
• Allowing the client to discuss their values, then working with them to set and achieve goals consistent with those values.
• Being cautious about integrating spirituality into treatment. Research is still in its infancy, so clinicians should avoid over-reliance on religious models and lean heavily on research-supported practices.

It is possible to incorporate spirituality into therapy without endorsing a specific religion. Many clinicians use therapeutic techniques with roots in spiritual practice, such as mindfulness and meditation. These strategies can offer people immense comfort.

Religion and spirituality can be very personal, emotional issues. If you are a person seeking therapy (or already in therapy), you may benefit from bringing these topics up in treatment. A skilled therapist can help you address your spirituality without offering judgment.

References:

1. Discuss religion, spirituality when treating young adults with severe mental illness. (2018, July 30). EurekAlert. Retrieved from https://www.eurekalert.org/pub_releases/2018-07/bu-drs073018.php
2. Ducharme, J. (2018, February 15). You asked: Do religious people live longer? Time. Retrieved from http://time.com/5159848/do-religious-people-live-longer
3. Newport, F. (2016, June 29). Most Americans still believe in God. Retrieved from https://news.gallup.com/poll/193271/americans-believe-god.aspx
4. Oxhandler, H. K., Narendorf, S. C., & Moffatt, K. M. (2018). Religion and spirituality among young adults with severe mental illness. Spirituality in Clinical Practice. Retrieved from http://psycnet.apa.org/record/2018-28099-001?doi=1
5. Religion. (n.d.). Gallup. Retrieved from https://news.gallup.com/poll/1690/religion.aspx
6. Weber, S. R., & Pargament, K. I. (2014). The role of religion and spirituality in mental health. Current Opinion in Psychiatry, 27(5), 358-363. Retrieved from https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/25046080

Many of us are raised to follow a particular religion, and many of those religions have some negative messages about sexual and gender diversity. These early religious messages can have a significant impact on the way LGBTQIA individuals perceive themselves, their sexual orientation and gender identity, and their self-worth.

Some people find leaving the religious organization they were raised to follow is the choice that best enables them to live as their true selves. Still, even those who have taken this action may continue to struggle with shame and guilt about being LGBTQ+. Others find their religion and spirituality are just as important to their identities as their gender and sexual orientation and struggle to reconcile all aspects of their identity.

The ideas of religion and sexuality have been at the forefront of my mind in recent months. Whether I am looking back on my own childhood experiences with religion and how those impacted my own sexual identity or witnessing affirming messages of inclusive churches during Pride week, I have long been interested in the ways LGBTQ+ people can move beyond negative messages about their identities in the face of ever-present religious pressures.

What really kicked off my interest in this topic was a recent conversation with a past Jehovah’s Witness who was excommunicated from his church when it was discovered he was gay. This person still felt a deep, burning desire to engage in his spiritual and religious beliefs and was constantly at odds with what his beliefs said about who he was as a person and his identity as a gay man. He felt as though he had to choose either his sexuality or his spirituality, and that if he chose to love who he wanted to love, he would be doomed eternally. As a result, his journey has been painful and alienating. [fat_widget_right]

What are the impacts of this struggle on mental health? LGBTQ+ people raised in religious environments that do not affirm their identities often experience depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation, negative self-image, and addiction, among other concerns.

Internalized homophobia, which is the tendency to feel shame about being non-heterosexual or gender diverse, is more common in religious LGBTQ+ people (Barnes & Meyer, 2012), and is linked to experiences of depression, anxiety, and suicide. These painful experiences are often worse when someone grows up in a culture that does not accept who they are, and the experience can place a false sense of morality or choice on sexuality and gender.

Combating Stress and Shame

Those raised according to the faith of a non-affirming religion may struggle to overcome internal feelings of guilt, shame, and stress. How can these be addressed?

One of the most important and effective ways to combat stress and shame resulting from non-affirming messages is to focus on maintaining positivity and self-love around your LGBTQ+ identity while engaging in self-reflection about your religious attitudes and whether they are helping you or not.

One option is to leave the religious group that fosters messages of shame and persecution, but the outcome of this choice could be feelings of spiritual emptiness, loneliness, and isolation from family, friends, and one’s community. Another option might be to question religious attitudes that feed internalized shame while maintaining your engagement with your religious community, but this may not give you enough distance from shame-based messages.

One of the most important and effective ways to combat stress and shame resulting from non-affirming messages is to focus on maintaining positivity and self-love around your LGBTQ+ identity while engaging in self-reflection about your religious attitudes and whether they are helping you or not (Page, Lindahl, & Malik, 2013). This is often a complicated task.

How can a person question negative messages about sexuality and gender learned through religion?

1. Speak to someone who understands: It can be helpful to find an affirming person who has a similar religious upbringing to discuss experiences with in order to gain some insight on where those shaming messages stem from. If you don’t know someone you feel safe talking to about this, a compassionate and empathic counselor who is trained in working with members of the LGBTQ+ community or friends and supportive family can often help you sort out your thoughts and feelings.
2. Notice self-defeating thoughts: We all struggle with self-defeating thinking that leads us to view ourselves less compassionately than we could. Taking a deep look at those thoughts and where they come from is a helpful and positive step. Try keeping a journal to help you identify patterns in your thinking about your sexuality and gender in addition to your spiritual health.
3. Challenge ideas that suggest your sexual orientation or gender is a moral choice: The only choice a person has, when it comes to sexual and gender identity, is to live as the person they are or to hide that identity from others. Sexuality and gender are not moral choices; they are aspects of identity. If you are surrounded by messages that being LGBTQ+ means you are sinful, morally wrong, or doomed, it is in your best interests to challenge those ideas. Challenging or resisting them might mean speaking up about it, resisting in your own mind, or leaving the people or organizations inflicting those ideas on you.
4. Remind yourself that spiritual fulfillment is not the same as religiosity: Most people find comfort and strength from spiritual experiences and beliefs. Although spiritual fulfillment can be achieved through being part of a religion, religion is not necessary for finding spiritual fulfillment. It might be helpful to think about what your religion gives you that you benefit from or what you miss about the religion you grew up in. Ask yourself whether there are other ways to meet those spiritual needs and whether the religious ideas you know are benefiting you.
5. Create a new community: For many, leaving a religion means leaving behind people and traditions you love, and this can feel very lonely. Start anew by creating a community of people who accept you for who you are and who think and feel in ways similar to you. It may be helpful to begin by researching ways to volunteer or get involved in your community by meeting and reaching out online to other people going through similar experiences.

References:

1. Barnes, D. M., & Meyer, I. H. (2012). Religious affiliation, internalized homophobia, and mental health in lesbians, gay men, and bisexuals. American Journal of Orthopsychiatry, 82(4), 505-525.
2. Page, M. J. L., Lindahl, K. M., & Malik, N. M. (2013). The role of religion and stress in sexual identity and mental health among lesbian, gay, and bisexual youth. Journal of Research on Adolescence, 23(4), 665-677.

Dear GoodTherapy.org,

My mom and dad divorced when I was 14. I’m in my forties now. Neither of my parents is in the best of health, and I don’t know how much time left I have with them. They don’t talk to each other. I’m on good terms with both of them, though closer to my dad.

I was visiting my mom a couple of years ago when she told me a bombshell of a family secret: my dad had been sexually abused by a pastor as a child. This went on for years, apparently. It seems my mom is the only person in our family he has told about this—assuming she is to be believed. I add this qualifier because she has a history of creating drama. I have not known her to outright lie, however.

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I am inclined to believe her, as I know my dad was raised in a devout, church-going family and he has never been one to be very open with his feelings, emotions, or past experiences. If he was indeed abused as a child, I think it’s likely he’d hide it from his children, out of what I would imagine is a deep sense of shame.

It’s my empathy and compassion for that shame that has kept me from saying anything to him these past couple of years. One the one hand, I really want him to be able to talk about his past with me. Part of me thinks that by talking about it, he might be able to make peace with it (assuming he hasn’t already) and perhaps have fewer regrets as the end of his life approaches. On the other hand, I don’t want to push him into talking about something he doesn’t feel comfortable talking about. The one thing I am sure of is that he’ll take this to his grave if I don’t bring it up. If I do bring it up, I would not be surprised if he denied it.

What are your thoughts? Should I try to get him to talk to me about this? —Hurting for Him

Submit Your Own Question to a Therapist

Dear Hurting,

What a fascinating question—and touching, since your empathy for your father is so obvious. I’m moved by how you want to help him find peace with what sounds like a pretty awful betrayal and abuse of trust. As the film Spotlight illustrated, it’s terribly painful when “God’s ambassadors” are the ones perpetuating such psychological and/or physical injury, which can leave scars for a lifetime.

I suppose my main question is: whose peace are you actually seeking? It sounds as if you are nagged by the question or impulse to help him. My question is, and I mean this in a deep sense: how come? This is not to sound skeptical; I just find it’s helpful to understand one’s own impulse to help. There are times when, in my own experience, the relief cuts two ways—one for the other person and two for ourselves, since we are troubled by such a disturbing disclosure.

Wanting to help our parents as they grow older is one way many of us want to “give back” for what we are just now beginning to appreciate. It sounds as though you have an intuitive sense of how this might be bothering your father. I also wonder if your mother told you because she either was tired of carrying such a secret herself all these years or was hoping you might find a way to approach him. Did she say this to you in confidence, or is she okay with you bringing it to him?

It’s impossible for me (and you, it sounds like) to know how your father has or hasn’t made peace with this. I have learned not to underestimate the ability of the human mind to compartmentalize. We have to, in order to adapt and move forward. Where adaptation becomes repression or dissociation can be ambiguous, since every person, every relationship, and every situation is different.

I would still advise you to pause a moment to gently reflect on your motives and feelings. What are you hoping might come of an honest conversation with your dad? If he has never really dealt with it, it’s unlikely one conversation will clear it up. It might—or it might stir up all kinds of complex feelings around what happened. He may feel anger at the perpetrator and those who failed to protect him as a boy. It’s also possible he doesn’t know how he feels, or harbors deeper feelings that may arise in a conversation and take time to process (which doesn’t mean “don’t do it,” just that he might say no before he says yes, or say no and want to reflect on it himself).

He may also have feelings about your mother disclosing this to you. Again, I don’t know anyone involved or the dynamics of the family, but sometimes there is an unspoken need among family members for a secret to come out in the open, and sometimes there is conflict around it. He may chuckle and say, “Oh, your mom …” or he may become angry about having his secret spilled.

It’s impossible for me (and you, it sounds like) to know how your father has or hasn’t made peace with this. I have learned not to underestimate the ability of the human mind to compartmentalize. We have to, in order to adapt and move forward. Where adaptation becomes repression or dissociation can be ambiguous, since every person, every relationship, and every situation is different.

Is it possible your mother wants your dad to discuss it while he is reluctant or outright disinterested? Are you then concerned about your mother’s distress? Is your mother enlisting you as a kind of stand-in for her own pursuit? The “drama” you allude to regarding your mom might be a way for her to attract attention while avoiding her own feelings or vulnerability.

If any of this is true, keep in mind the risk of wading into a longstanding struggle; sometimes adult children are the “power brokers” or go-betweens in such situations. This has its benefits and risks, naturally. I recommend considering the downside of stepping in, along with the potential benefits. It’s also true any decision you make will have potential ups and downs, and there is often no easy choice. I sense you care deeply about both of your folks—and at the end of the day, provided you move with empathy for all involved (as best you can), this is what matters most.

Should you decide you’d like to try discussing this with him, I would broach the topic gently and see if he wants to discuss it before specifics are introduced. You can come from a place of your own concern, even curiosity, about his experience, and ask if talking would help him—rather than coming at him with a pre-decided or firm intent to help (which can be received as critical, if a person hasn’t asked for it).

I often encourage people to ask, “How can I help?” before deciding for the other person what’s needed or how it ought to play out. (Not that you’re doing this.) I often ask people in therapy (or even loved ones) if they want suggestions before offering my own advice. It surprises me how, so much of the time, people just want to be heard, validated, understood … so they don’t feel so alone in their struggle.

Of course, you may hit a wall with him. He may resist and then come around, or he might surprise you by being open right at the start.

If you decide to broach the topic, the key is to be honest with him about your love and concern for him. It’s a bit of a tightrope, wanting to be transparently honest without falling into “you need to do this, dad” when the motivation may be your own anxiety. One thing to consider is whether some of the shame and darkness you imagine he’s feeling is, possibly, what you are feeling. It’s painful and difficult to think of a person you love being harmed in such a way.

In short, the “lead” as they say in journalism is your love and concern for him, your empathy, in compassionately considering him and his (conscious or unconscious) struggle, and your wanting to lighten the load. One of the most loving things you can do is to ask if or how you can help with all this—if you decide to talk to him. (If this is a real hot button between your folks, it’s also okay to recuse yourself.) Let him decide whether he wants to open this door wider or at all, or would rather leave sleeping traumas be.

I hope, whatever happens, he will be proud of a son who cares enough about his dad to take a risk.

Finally, please know there is no “perfect decision” in such cases. Often, in the messiness and muddle of human affairs, we simply do the best we can. Sounds to me like you’re a good son trying to do just that.

Thanks so much for writing!

Darren Haber, MA, MFT

Spiritual abuse, a type of abuse that results from a spiritual leader, system, or indoctrinated individual’s attempts to control and/or manipulate another individual, can be difficult to recognize, and many people are entirely unaware that this type of abuse even exists.

Those who are aware of spiritual abuse may understand this concept as the oppression or domination of individuals within a particular religious organization, leading these people to follow the leaders without dissent or question. While this is one manifestation, any abuse—committed intentionally or otherwise–that occurs in a religious context and negatively impacts a person’s spirituality, effectively diminishing or breaking their spirit, can be described as spiritual abuse.

Spiritual Abuse in Intimate Relationships

Spiritual abuse may occur in relationships, though some may not recognize they are experiencing abuse. A key feeling to look for, if you believe spiritual abuse may be present in your relationship, is shame. Shame, obvious at times but less apparent at others, can be experienced in many ways, all of which are likely to lead to hurt and pain.

Spiritual abuse can be recognized in many of the following situations but is not limited to these:

• Do you feel ashamed when you and your partner have different thoughts about religion? If your partner adheres to a particular religion and you feel it is not safe to challenge their ideas about religion, spiritual abuse may be present.
• Have you ever been silenced by your partner when challenging a common ideology in their religion? Have they called your thoughts and opinions silly, wrong, or stupid, leading you to feel ashamed of having the audacity to think differently?
• Has your partner ever forced you to attend religious gatherings? [fat_widget_right]
• Have you ever been shamed or punished by a partner for not obeying a particular religious rule or set of rules?
• Does your partner use scriptures, religious texts, or beliefs to justify harmful or abusive behaviors?
• Does your partner insist children be raised according to a certain faith, even if you do not follow that faith?

Many churches teach that in a heterosexual relationship, the male has supremacy over the female: the man is the head; the woman is the help-meet. This was true in the church I attended in my late teen years. I, and other young women, were given multiple reasons why God had arranged it thus. “Ladies, you should be so lucky to find a man to help and support!” we were told. As much as I hoped at the time to fit into this box, I—strong, opinionated, and stubborn as I was, and still am—simply didn’t. I push back. I make decisions. I desire to be involved in all aspects of a relationship, as an equal member, not a lesser part.

My partner, another member of the church, did not support these aspects of my nature. On more than one occasion we had disagreements in which he told me, jokingly at first, to “submit,” persisting until I stopped talking. His “joke” response continued, silencing me again and again until I lost the energy and willpower to defend myself further. To avoid that word, “submit,” I forfeited my voice and my opinions.

In this way, messages from religious organizations trickle down, affecting relationships, shattering the spirits of many, often leading to religious trauma syndrome or another lasting negative impact on mental health and well-being.

Spiritual Abuse in Parent-Child Relationships

Parent-child spiritual abuse, while common, may be tricky to recognize, as the line between abuse and influence can at times be blurry one. When does the attempt to influence and shape a child’s moral outlook through religious upbringing cross the line into abuse?

I imagine many individuals, when considering the topic of spiritual abuse, think of the movie Carrie. In this film, Carrie suffers extreme physical and spiritual abuse at the hands of her mother, all in the name of God.

Spiritual abuse perpetuated by parents, not always obvious or blatant, can be seen when parents:

• Encourage single-minded thinking. When parents discourage questions or shut a child down for challenging what they learn, they are teaching the child that critical thinking is not valuable.
• Use exclusive language or “us vs. them” mentality when referring to those who do not adhere to the same religious group. This language serves to give children a pointed message about the organization of social relationships and can encourage both an elitist mentality or a savior complex.
• Stifle a child’s interest in learning about other religious practices. This often furthers exclusive language by sending the message that others might be dangerous, evil, etc.
• Force a child to participate in certain rituals such as prayer, worship, communion, bowing, group participation, repentance, public displays of adherence, etc. A child who does not wish to participate likely has a reason, and parents who ignore the child’s choices send the message that children do not have the freedom to make their own choices.
• Force a child to remain in an environment where a traumatic event occurred. Children who have an extreme reaction to a religious environment typically do so for a reason. Parents may be unaware a traumatic event has taken place, but to ignore the child’s reaction instead of attempting to discover the reason for it is likely to teach the child they cannot expect to be protected from harm, even by their parents.

The parent-child dynamic of spiritual abuse should not be equated with a parent’s attempt to raise a child in a religious household. Parents who follow a particular faith may read their child stories from a religious text, explain why certain morals are important or why they hold certain beliefs, and bring their child to church events. These are not examples of abuse when they are not forced on a child.

Further, parents who encourage their child to ask questions and provide the child with explanations instead of simply saying, “Because God says so,” can help their child learn, grow, and think critically. It is often worth it for a parent to take the time to explain to a child why they chose to follow a particular faith, as this serves to introduce the child to that unique and important aspect of the parent’s life.

Abuse in Small Cults

Society as a whole has become more aware of cult practices in recent years. Cults might exist as small branches of major religions or are large organizations in their own right, and they may be difficult to recognize or define. People who have left them, however, often report abusive practices, though many share that they did not recognize these tactics as abuse until they had a chance to step away from them.

Some of the following may be questions to consider:

• Am I in danger? Physical danger? Danger of a destroyed reputation?
• Am I being forced to pay money in order to become spiritually enlightened?
• Have I been shamed for thinking differently?
• Have I been equipped with the tools to research my beliefs on my own, or are there only a chosen few individuals who are authorized to give me information?
• Is there a ranking system? Am I being taught that I am somehow lesser than other individuals?
• Is my individuality unappreciated or unwelcomed?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, you may wish to carefully consider the religious group to which you belong. It may be a good idea to seek the support of a trusted friend or family member along with professional help from a counselor, particularly one trained to provide help with spiritual and religious issues. A person should not have to worry that sharing their worries or opinions will lead to judgment or recrimination.

Abuse in Large Organizations

Spiritual abuse typically becomes more insidious as the size of the organization grows. In large organizations, however, the most common forms of abuse may be more difficult to identify.

One way of identifying whether you have been, or currently are, in a spiritually abusive relationship is to look at the leadership in your organization.

• Do the leaders hold all authority?
• Do they discourage free thinking or opinions about their messages?
• Do they inform followers they are less valuable because of things they cannot change (gender, sexuality, ethnicity, age, and so on)?
• Do they demonize other religions and belief systems?
• Do they catch you in the “loop”?

Spiritual abuse is sneaky. It hides in the fact that it is not commonly discussed and thus is often overlooked. But know that if you have experienced spiritual abuse or oppression, you are not alone, and compassionate help and support can help you overcome its effects.

The “loop” is an idea I have been developing as I continue my own spiritual exploration. Recently, the pastor giving a Christian church service I attended shared information I disagreed with. As I picked apart the message in my head, I experienced doubt about my own religious beliefs. As if the pastor had read my thoughts, he exclaimed, “And if you have doubt, that is because you are ensnared by sin.”

“Oh, that explains it,” I thought. “Now I need to do whatever he says I should to wipe out my sin, and that will ease my doubt. Wait. What?!”

This thought ran through my head as I processed what he told me. I was so quick to believe I was being manipulated by evil that my ability to think critically about his message was compromised by a loop he had created. He stated a “truth,” pinpointed doubt and critical thinking, and then he blamed it on outside forces like sin. My ability to deconstruct his message was inherently sinful, I interpreted.

Now, this was not a direct situation of spiritual abuse. That pastor was not intending to abuse his congregation. However, I can tell you that I did feel oppressed. My spirit felt crushed.

If you have felt similar oppression from this type of preaching, teaching, or reading, you may have felt abused. You may have experienced guilt, shame, or fear. Your emotional well-being may have been affected.

So what to do? How can you find an organization that affirms you and allows your spiritual self to thrive?

• Look for organizations with leadership that is horizontal, not vertical. True leaders pool the voices of those they represent. They do not stifle the voices of their congregation to remain in the role of “truth holder.”
• Find a community that celebrates your differences. It is oppressive to be told that because you are female, you cannot lead; because you are LGBTQ+, you cannot participate; because you are black, you belong in a black congregation. Avoid homogeneous congregations and find one that celebrates you and all aspects of your identity.
• Surround yourself with people who encourage you to form and process your own opinions about spirituality and your beliefs. Avoid communities, friends, and partners who confine you to one way of thinking and silence your opinions.
• Find a safe person/people to talk to and process, if necessary. This could be a counselor/therapist, friend, family member, or a support group.

Spiritual abuse is sneaky. It hides in the fact that it is not commonly discussed and thus is often overlooked. But know that if you have experienced spiritual abuse or oppression, you are not alone, and compassionate help and support can help you overcome its effects.

References: 

1. Kinsley, M. (2013, January 17). Eyes wide shut: ‘Going Clear,’ Lawrence Wright’s book on Scientology. The New York Times. Retrieved from http://www.nytimes.com/2013/01/20/books/review/going-clear-lawrence-wrights-book-on-scientology.html
2. Tamm, J. (2011, April 14). What is a cult? Recognizing and avoiding unhealthy groups. The Huffington Post. Retrieved from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jayanti-tamm/the-c-word_2_b_848340.html

Dear GoodTherapy.org,

I grew up in a fairly religious household where sex was rarely discussed (and when it was, it was talked about for the purposes of conception). Now, in my 30s, I have renounced many aspects of the religion I grew up with and come to realize some of the harm it caused in my life—including giving me a very problematic view of sex.

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I’m a virgin and have barely even been able to masturbate, let alone approach intimacy with a partner. I feel ashamed and guilty whenever I try, even though I tell myself over and over again that self-exploration is healthy and necessary. I desperately want a relationship, too, but can’t fathom the idea of overcoming my nervousness about sex and exposing my body (nudity was condemned in my family as well).

While I am still a child of God and am waiting for marriage to have sex, I would like to be more open to physical acts of love and more self-accepting when it comes to touching myself. Can you tell me why shame and embarrassment persist around the subject of sex, even after I have released so much other negativity that was ingrained in me through my childhood faith? How can I shake the bad emotions that arise instantly when I feel aroused or try to indulge my thoughts and fantasies about sex? —Shackled by Shame

Submit Your Own Question to a Therapist

Dear Shackled,

First off, I want to say how much I respect and admire you. Clearly, you have worked hard to release the “negativity” that was part of your childhood. That is a huge undertaking, and you have accomplished a great deal. Nevertheless, you want to go further. You write that although you have achieved great self-understanding, there is an important aspect of your life that you would like to change—shame about sex.

You write that you feel ashamed and guilty about your sexuality. Shame and guilt are both powerful emotions, but very different from each other. Guilt has to do with feeling bad about something you have done. It’s hard to endure, but shame is worse. Shame is about who you are or, more accurately, who you think you are (based on the influences in your life)—no good, bad, worthless, and so on. If you feel guilty about something you have done, you can make retribution or decide to never repeat the action. But shame? Shame is about your core being, your whole self, body, and soul. I get the feeling from your words that shaming might have been part of your experiences growing up. Shame is used to belittle and control people; it is a tool of hate, not of love.

You describe sex as almost a great unmentionable in your childhood home, surrounded by prohibitions about nudity, masturbation, and adult relationships. Sexuality has something to do with love and loving, because sex is, finally, a loving physical and emotional expression of closeness with oneself and another. In fact, sexuality is an integral and intimate part of a person’s very being—and being in loving connection, the very opposite of shame.

You write that you are a “child of God.” I don’t know how you express your spirituality, but I wonder if you have come across this quotation from Ephesians 5:20: “For no one has ever hated his own body, but he nourishes and tenderly cares for it, as the Messiah does the church.” In short, take care of yourself, body and soul, with complete love.

I recognize—and maybe you do, too—that this sounds easier said than done. For many people, the shame they experience surrounding sex stems from societal and religious taboos that have developed over many generations, making it a particularly difficult subject to reconcile new feelings around. I urge you to be compassionate with yourself as you work through your feelings, which clearly aren’t comfortable for you. It’s hard to overcome a lifetime of conditioning.

Many people experience negative feelings about the body. You wonder how you might overcome yours. I would start by working with a therapist around issues of loving yourself, emotionally as well as physically. Therapy can be very helpful as you gradually unlearn the negative feelings that are attached to your sexuality.

I find myself wondering how you care for yourself. Do you provide yourself with proper rest and physical care? Do you beautify yourself and your environment? Do things you like? Do you recognize and then give yourself what you need? Respecting, caring for, and loving oneself may gradually bring you closer to your body. Again, be kind to yourself.

Many people experience negative feelings about the body. You wonder how you might overcome yours. I would start by working with a therapist around issues of loving yourself, emotionally as well as physically. Therapy can be very helpful as you gradually unlearn the negative feelings that are attached to your sexuality. The experience of talking about your feelings with a compassionate other may itself be a way to lessen your feelings of shame as you bring them to light on your terms. This is a gradual process. There is no hurry.

You might also find physical outlets, such as sports or yoga or hiking, for example, that you enjoy. These are ways to perhaps feel more at home in your body.

As you gradually feel all of who you are, and the joy in and around you, you might also discover the joy of companionship with someone special. Often, people who are new to sex are worried about how they will do, as if sex were a test or performance to be graded. There is a simple remedy for such feelings. Rather than focusing on yourself and if you’re doing things right, you can focus on what your partner finds enjoyable as your partner finds ways to please you. As you treasure each other, your intimacy may deepen and grow.

Thank you very much for asking this delicate question. I hope my answers are helpful, and I wish you a blossoming of your full self.

Take care,

Lynn

What’s sacred for you? Where is it found? For many of us, the idea of sacred space brings up images of cathedrals or mosques, Stonehenge, Angkor Wat, or the pyramids. These can be places separated from us by great distances and steeped in centuries of tradition, so getting to them is a journey. “Next year in Jerusalem,” we tell one another. Or we dream of making the Hajj to Mecca, or going on pilgrimage to Santiago or Lourdes. Such spaces can also be the houses of worship we go to once a week, for which we dress in special clothes, covering or uncovering our heads, possibly leaving our shoes at the door.

For others of us, the sacred is hard to find, or is something we feel we once had access to but no longer do. We get caught up—sometimes for years at a time—in the business of daily life. Technology provides us with increasingly sophisticated means to keep ourselves distracted. Or the practices that once offered access to the sacred may no longer do so.

In the following discussion, names have been changed and personal material has been screened out.

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Sacred space can mean what we set the space aside for, what we do while within it. Jim creates a memorial altar in his home. On top of a bookcase, he puts photos of people he loves who have died—his grandmother, his partner, his best friend. He keeps a candle burning there, and on their birthdays he sets out flowers or a cup of coffee.

Sacred can refer to what we feel when we enter the space. Benjamin, disillusioned with his church, goes into nature in order to feel he’s contained in something larger than he is, that will accept him no matter what. Janice writes her dreams down in a journal. When she sits down in front of her journal and opens it, she experiences feelings of calm and increased focus. Cathy goes on vacation to Istanbul and enters the Blue Mosque. Although a practicing Lutheran, she finds that looking up into the ornately tiled, domed ceilings produces a sense of weightlessness and freedom from worry.

Bob belongs to a writers’ group. Every two weeks, the group gets together at a different member’s home. They read and critique each other’s work. Although “sacred” isn’t the way he describes this (and, in fact, is a term he objects to), Bob says writing is the most important thing in the world to him—“what he was born to do.”

Kyle meditates before coming to therapy. He sees his therapist’s office as the place where he meets what is most true in his life, sometimes for the first time.

For Alice, it’s her mother’s house. For Karen, it’s wherever her 10-year-old daughter is. Both women struggle with recovery, but don’t use in the spaces where they locate the sacred.

If we give the sacred its own space, do we increase the chances we will recognize it when it greets us?

The sacred is what grounds us in meaning. It can include us, as when we recognize that we are part of or one with the universe. And it can gently put us in our place, as when we slowly realize our ego is not the most important content of that universe. It can be deeply personal, as in meeting rooms where we establish or affirm our relationship to a higher power. And it can be an experience of merger, as when we look up and out into the stars at night. Sharon Olds, in her poem Wilderness, describes sleeping in the desert and looking up at the stars. She feels suddenly “… as if/not only the earth while I am here, but space/and death and existence without me, are my home.”

Sometimes we know it for the first time by responses that surprise us. Fran, hiking, comes into a grove of California oaks in the hills over the ocean. She says, “I suddenly heard the silence for the first time. It seemed to go on forever.” For Steve, the experience came as he was driving through Death Valley. “I was going to meet some friends,” he says. “But I drove more and more slowly, until I just had to pull over and stop. I’d never seen anything like it—white sand dunes, colored cliffs that looked like sculptures, and no one else around anywhere. I felt connected to the earth for the first time since I was a kid.”

Our own bodies can provide such a space. Tom describes an experience late one Christmas Eve that the manger where the Christ child was about to be born was his own body. This original intensity faded, but he was left with a lingering and resonant awareness of what he put into his body in terms of food and recreational substances, and of how he took care of his health.

Sacred space can mean leaving room in our lives for something to be sacred—if not now, then someday. Perhaps as simply as by acknowledging we don’t know all the answers. Or that our answers might not be the ultimate answer, might merely be rest stops along the way.

Sacred space can as well act as a holding place in times of uncertainty or transition. It can be a system of meaning, rather than a literal place.

According to Erik Erikson, in the first stages of life we’re engaged in developmental tasks related to basic psychological functions, such as establishing trust and self-efficacy, and in developing a stable sense of identity. Another way of saying this is that we’re involved in consolidating the ego, the sense of “me” present in experience that makes it “my experience.” This time of life is a little like the Ptolemaic view of the universe, where everything—sun, moon, and stars—seemed to revolve around the earth. That’s us at the center of everything, and whatever happens is about us.

Often around the midpoint of life, we start picking up hints that we’re not going to increase and live forever. In Once Upon a Midlife, Allan Chinen describes how shocking this realization can be, accompanied by anxiety and grief. Especially at such a point, a sense of the sacred can act to ground us. As the fact of “me” begins to lose its apparent guarantee of continuance as well as its centrality (because how central to the universe can I be if I’m not going to be around?), the universe is less and less about me. But perhaps I become more and more about something else, something larger than me.

Carl Jung notes that, in this way, the ego becomes relativized and the process of individualization—becoming wholly who we were meant to be—is accomplished. We begin to live in a system of meaning where the earth revolves around the sun, the sun rotates through the galaxy, and the galaxy itself follows its own great attractor. Our experience then seems to participate in larger movements, whether those are our family or a cause in which we believe or humanity in general, a spiritual pathway or the life of the universe.

Ray tells me that if you go to the mosque to pray 40 mornings in a row, you will be able to meet Khid’r, a mystic figure in Islam, anywhere—in the market, on the street. Barbara tells me she sets a place at the Seder table every year for Elijah, who will someday return from his sojourn in heaven, so why not here, why not now? Beth tells me that when you practice Zen meditation, anything—even a drop of water falling into a bucket—can suddenly herald a glimpse into the nature of reality.

Here, we have the idea of ordinary daily space—and that includes the freeway where we’re caught in traffic, or the area where we keep our trash cans—suddenly converting to sacred.

A related idea is that all space is sacred already. Connie tells me a quotation from the Gospel of Thomas, where the figure of Jesus tells his disciples, “The kingdom of the father is spread out on the earth, and nobody recognizes it.”

If I’m already in a sacred space, what happens to my anxiety that is sometimes so intense? My craving for alcohol? The anger I feel at my partner when we disagree over small matters?

Sacred space can mean leaving room in our lives for something to be sacred—if not now, then someday. Perhaps as simply as by acknowledging we don’t know all the answers. Or that our answers might not be the ultimate answer, might merely be rest stops along the way. The possibility that even though something doesn’t seem to make sense to me, it still might make sense. That I am included in a great web of meaning, at home, wherever I am, with no chance of getting lost.

References:

1. Chinen, A. (1992). Once Upon a Midlife: Classic Stories and Mythic Tales to Illuminate the Middle Years. New York: Putnam Publishing Group.
2. Erikson, E. (1980). Identity and the Life Cycle. New York: Norton.
3. Jung, C. (1969). The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche, Second Edition. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
4. Olds, S. (2002). The Unswept Room. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.
5. Robinson, J., Editor. (1978). The Nag Hammadi Library. New York: Harper and Row.

In the 21^st century, as mindfulness-based practices become more mainstream, our society and psychotherapeutic community may be more willing to accept that Buddhism could be a valid psychological approach to reducing human suffering. —Danielle A. Einstein (2007)

In some ways, mindfulness is to Buddhism as worshiping is to religion. Mindfulness is a mental practice that is one core feature within a scaffolding of knowledge, tradition, and awakening. Now removed from its casing, mindfulness practices such as meditation are rigorously operationalized for psychotherapeutic purposes, including research designs. This detached arm of Buddhism has come alive in the West to gain size and strength despite the secular environment. Imagine if the “auditing” process in Scientology was an evidenced-based practice for relieving psychological distress. It is hard to imagine detaching such a practice from its larger cultural understanding and history.

There is an interesting emergence of Buddhist practices in psychotherapy as well as subtle distinction between religion and therapeutic models. The concept of religion relates to a social group’s preferred lifestyle, set of values, and interests, as well as committed practices, principles, and experiences (Mohr, 2011). To act “religiously” is to consciously and methodically conduct oneself in an activity, behavior, or ideology. A modern, magnified version of spirituality now includes positive psychology, whereby one searches for meaning, connection, and other secular hopes of universal inclusion (2011).

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“Mindfulness” has become a stand-alone contemporary practice for focus, affect regulation, and stress management. Mindfulness techniques have been incorporated into psychotherapy practices that, as a result, have taken on religious forms. The fat of the pre-modern (500 B.C.) tradition of Buddhism has been trimmed, and the leaner version (i.e., mindfulness) has migrated from desolate monasteries into empirical research and pop-psychology vernacular. Questions arise: Are the new-age psychotherapy practices religious? When teaching and conducting mindfulness-based practices, is it possible to parcel out the roots, allegiance, and ideology of its origin?

‘Third-Wave’ Therapies and Mindfulness

Mindfulness and other contemplative practices extracted from Buddhism are implanted in several evidence-based, cognitive behavioral practices. Mainstream cognitive behavioral-based therapies have evolved (called the “third wave”) to include mindfulness components. Despite secular efforts aimed to separate mindfulness from Buddhism, when examined closely, religious components are implicit to mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR), mindfulness-based cognitive therapy (MCBT), acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT), and dialectical behavior therapy (DBT) (Andersson & Asmundson, 2006). Much like a car’s side mirror, these are closer to religious belief systems and religious practices than they may appear.

The conceptual scaffolding of Kabat-Zinn’s MBSR stems from Theravada Buddhism (Einstein, 2007). The fundamental attitudes are acclimated practices of Buddhist awakening systems and reference the Four Noble Truths. For psychotherapy purposes, MBCT adds the empirical practices of cognitive behavioral therapy (often in group formats) to the MBSR program. Buddhism and MBCT join at the concept of “meta-cognitive insight.” Instead of viewing thoughts as an experiential reality, meta-cognitive insight notices thoughts just as thoughts, with a focus on the individual’s relationship with the thoughts (i.e., not the content).

The structural basis of ACT is relational frame theory (RFT), which is a behavioral explanation of human language and cognition. RFT is applied broadly, so it can be used to understand social processes including religion and spirituality (Andersson & Asmundson, 2006). Interventions derived from RFT and used in ACT approach religious values and practices. In the ACT model, one aim is for the client’s willingness “to clarify life values; and to behave in accord with chosen values through behavioral commitment strategies” (Hayes, 2002).

A significant commonality between ACT and other spiritual traditions (e.g., Buddhism) is the rationale that all humans experience inescapable suffering and the specific role of attachment, mindfulness, valued actions, and issues surrounding self (Andersson & Asmundson, 2006, and Hayes, 2002). Both ACT and Buddhism note the inherent problem of viewing and attaching to this unwavering “self” as something that can be managed with mindfulness practices (2002). For example, a belief that “I am depressed” or “I am a bad person” is a belief one attaches to, which perpetuates further anxiety or suffering. Mindfulness can elicit awareness and acceptance of this process of identification by allowing the person to step back from the internal experience (Sparks, 2015).

Much of psychotherapy is a movement out of a negative state and into a desired, often positive direction. In ACT, the goal is to feel emotions in the context of living a valuable life, while resisting avoidance tactics (Hayes, 2002). There is only a subtle behavioral difference between Buddhist mindfulness practices and ACT, in that the former accepts or actively sits with the thoughts, while the latter focuses on changing the thoughts that get in the way of progress (2002).

Zen Buddhism inspired aspects of DBT, along with behavioral science and dialectical philosophy. The concepts of being whole, interconnected, and amenable to change are central to the dialectical view of the world (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014). Buddhist dialect uses matching concepts: embodiment, interdependence, or co-arising and impermanence (Einstein, 2007). Zen Buddhism and DBT both focus on the here and now with radical acceptance and letting go of ego. People who use DBT are committed to developing a stable lifestyle (e.g., not engaging in self-harm or suicide) with nonjudgmental awareness and acceptance to reality (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014).

The fat of the pre-modern (500 B.C.) tradition of Buddhism has been trimmed, and the leaner version (i.e., mindfulness) has migrated from desolate monasteries into empirical research and pop-psychology vernacular. Questions arise: Are the new-age psychotherapy practices religious? When teaching and conducting mindfulness-based practices, is it possible to parcel out the roots, allegiance, and ideology of its origin?

The structure of the DBT model from the perspective of clinicians mirrors the subtle paternalism occupied within DBT practice. Therapists are required to be part of a consultation team and/or a group with an almost dogmatic commitment to a list of rules (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014). They must use compassion, properly assess problems before giving feedback, exercise assertiveness, emotionally repair with the team, as well as make agreements (e.g., no absolute truth, accept change as natural, empathic interpretations, fallibility). The guidelines are very reasonable and necessary for therapeutic alliance, but the process has an ideological structure one also finds within religious institutions.

In terms of beliefs, a DBT therapist must have a “willingness to believe in the client’s ability to change” (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014, p. 429) and to use “irreverent communication,” offer “cheerleading,” as well as prescribe “punishments,” such as “vacations from therapy” (p. 437). Is this a conducted activity, behavior, and/or ideology that is conscious and methodic?

Hayes (2002) described Buddhism as the inclusion of “traditions of faith, ritual, practice, and community that are designed to support mindfulness and wholesome actions, and short of becoming a religion, no system of psychotherapy will include all of these elements” (p.65). Perhaps DBT merely falls short in the category of faith.

DBT therapists also use traditional metaphors, parable, and myth with people. They will at times “play devil’s advocate” in a practice called “extending” (Neacsiu & Linehan, 2014). In Zen Buddhism, to reduce dominate meaning of events, “koans” or stories are often “presented as verbal puzzles” as a provocation for questioning principles of reality through meditation (Hayes, 2002, and Fischer, 2013). The dialectic approach activates “What is being left out here?” while Zen koans, similarly, unearth “what is there when the puzzle is no more” (2002, p. 64). Both DBT and Buddhism aim for the individual to let go of their patterns of reactivity to relieve suffering (or in Buddhism, “dukkha”) (Einstein, 2007).

Applicability to Therapy Techniques

When applied to psychotherapy techniques, the separation of mindfulness practices from the origin—Buddhism—initially resulted in a secularization (2007). The cultural taboo of speaking about religion need not apply to “mindfulness” if it is a culturally accepted, therapeutic tool. Neuroscientist and mindfulness proponent Richard Davidson dedicated a chapter in his book, The Emotional Life of the Brain, to this process. He writes about keeping his meditation practice a secret based on perceived stigma or misunderstanding by colleagues. He speaks topically to the idea of spirituality and Buddhism, but there is no explicit mention of an affiliation with Buddhism.

The increasing segregation or nonconformity of “mindfulness” from Buddhism has actually created an independent spiritual practice (i.e., within modernity) that is being measured scientifically. This is akin to the obstinate historical nature of atheism against—largely—monotheistic religions. Although seemingly isolating, the active disbelief in God created a scientific movement (e.g., led by Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, Daniel Dennett). The degree of this conscious extension of nonconformity essentially created a religion according to this article’s conceptualization (i.e., methodic and behavioral group ideology).

Buddhism is actually counter to our modern, Western culture. “Mindfulness” is a lighter version with more individualistic aspects (e.g., self-improvement, stress reduction). Buddhism is a radical, pre-modern tradition born within a society that emphasizes the collective “we” versus “I”. For individuals to learn mindfulness apart from Buddhist tradition and precepts is as arbitrary as the isolation of genuflecting prayer (e.g., Christianity) or “auditing” (i.e., Scientology) to use as singular tools for eradicating suffering. The dialectical question for contemporary mindfulness practice becomes: what are we leaving out?

References:

1. Andersson, G., & Asmundson, G. (2006). CBT and Religion. Editorial. Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (35): 1.
2. Castillo, R. (1997). Culture & Mental Illness: A Client-Centered Approach. Pacific Grove, CA: Brooks/Cole Publishing Company.
3. Davidson, R. J., & Begley, S. (2012). The Emotional Life of Your Brain: How Its Unique Patterns Affect the Way You Think, Feel, and Live—And How You Can Change Them. Hudson Street Press.
4. Einstein, D. A. (2007). Innovations and Advances in Cognitive Behaviour Therapy. Huxter, M.J.: Chapter 4 Mindfulness as Therapy from a Buddhist Perspective. Australian Academic Press.
5. Fischer, N. (2013). Training in Compassion: Zen Teachings on the Practice of Lojong. Shambhala Publications.
6. Frankl, V. (1959). Man’s Search for Meaning.
7. Germer, C.K. (2005). Mindfulness: What is it? What does it matter? In C.K. Germer, R.D. Siegel, & P.R. Fulton (Eds.), Mindfulness and Psychotherapy (pp. 3-27). New York: The Guilford Press.
8. Hayes, S. C. (2002). Buddhism and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy. Cognitive and Behavioral Practice: 9, 58-66.
9. Mohr, S. (2011). Integration of Spirituality and Religion in the Care of Patients with Severe Mental Disorders. Religions (2): 549-565.
10. Neacsiu, A. D., & Linehan, M. M. (2014). Dialectical Behavior Therapy for Borderline Personality Disorder. In: D.H. Barlow (ed.) Clinical Handbook of Psychological Disorders. Fifth Edition. New York: The Guildford Press 394-461.
11. Sparks, F. “Using Mindfulness in Your Practice: Wisdom and Compassion in Counseling and Coaching.” University of Wisconsin Continuing Studies Workshop. March 10-11, 2015. Madison, Wisconsin.

More than a quarter of Americans experience mental health issues each year, and the World Health Organization reports that depression is the leading cause of disability worldwide. However, many Americans think mental health care is both expensive and difficult to access, according to a study jointly sponsored by the National Action Alliance for Suicide Prevention, the Anxiety and Depression Association of America, and the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

In a survey of 2,000 adults, most (almost 90%) said they equally valued physical and mental health. One third reported that mental health care is hard to access, and 40% said high costs are a barrier to treatment. Forty-seven percent thought they had experienced a mental health issue, but only 38% of them had received treatment.

[fat_widget_right]Among those who sought treatment, therapy was the most popular option, with 82% pursuing psychotherapy and 78% taking medication. Eighty-six percent said that they knew mental health conditions such as depression increase the risk for suicide, but only 47% knew that anxiety-related conditions could also increase one’s suicide risk.

Though federal laws mandate equal coverage for mental and physical health, a number of recent reports suggest that many insurers continue to deny mental health claims.

64% of Psychology Experiments Fail Replication Test

In May, GoodTherapy.org reported on research suggesting that the majority of psychology studies could not be reproduced by subsequent researchers. Reproducibility is a hallmark of sound science. When a study’s results cannot be recreated, this suggests that the study could have been flawed, biased, or a fluke. Now, the results of that research have been published in Science, sparking debates about a so-called crisis in psychology. The research argues that the results of only a quarter of social psychology experiments and half of cognitive psychology experiments could subsequently be reproduced.

Living Small: The Psychology of Tiny Houses

Tiny houses are trending all over social media. For young people facing an expensive housing market, more economically sized homes can be enticing. These houses encourage people to reduce their carbon footprint by living simply, offer greater mobility because they can easily be moved by a trailer, and are much more affordable than standard-size homes. Moving into a tiny home may require significant downsizing of clothing, furniture, and belongings, but the advantages may include increased control over one’s housing experience, a private alternative to keeping costs down, and the ability to personalize design to fit one’s mood.

Health Buzz: Alcohol Education Should Begin at Age 9

Parents often delay talking to their kids about alcohol until the adolescent years, but a new survey published in the American Academy of Pediatrics suggests that these conversations should begin much earlier. The survey found that two thirds of teens had consumed alcohol by their high school graduation and that a quarter have had more than just a few sips before eighth grade. Researchers also found that children and teens drink more heavily than adults, raising concerns about alcohol poisoning and addiction. To give kids accurate and relevant information, the report recommends parents begin the alcohol conversation by the time their children are 9 years old.

Religion Rarely Part of ICU Conversation

Though three quarters of people charged with making health care decisions in an intensive care unit report that religion and spirituality are “fairly” or “very” important in their lives, less than 20% of family health care meetings involve discussion of religion or spirituality with doctors and other caregivers. Particularly when discussing end-of-life decisions, religion can be important, but it is usually the caregiver, not the doctor, who broaches the subject.

Japan’s Worst Day for Teen Suicides

September is National Suicide Prevention Month. For many Japanese parents, it may also be a time of increased concern about suicide among their teens. In Japan, more school students commit suicide on September 1 each year than on any other day. Though experts have posited various explanations—such as worries regarding bullying at school after a summer break free of emotional and physical attacks from peers—suicide remains common. Japan has one of the world’s highest suicide rates, and suicide is the leading cause of death among people aged 15 to 39. Figures from the Japanese government show that more than 18,000 adolescents under the age of 18 committed suicide between 1972 and 2013.

Oliver Sacks, Renowned Neurologist Who Wrote About His Cancer, Dies at 82

Famed author and neurologist Oliver Sacks died of cancer at his home on Sunday, August 30. Sacks wrote about unusual neurological conditions, often naming books after symptoms he saw in his clinical practice, such as The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat. He was the inspiration for the doctor played by Robin Williams in the 1990 movie Awakenings, which is based on Sacks’ 1973 book of the same name.

Lack of Sleep Puts You at Higher Risk for Colds, First Experimental Study Finds

According to a study of 164 healthy people, inadequate sleep could increase the risk of developing a cold. Scientists monitored participants’ sleep patterns for a week, then quarantined them in a hotel for five days and exposed them to a cold virus. Researchers also checked the participants’ blood for an antibody that fights the common cold, then removed participants who had the antibody to make sure those participants would not bias the infection rates of the group.

At the end of the quarantine period, 45.2% of those who slept less than five hours a night exhibited at least one sign of illness—revolving around mucus production—and one other immune response. Of those who slept five to six hours, the cold rate was 30%, compared to 22.7% for those who slept six to seven hours. The rate was only 17.2% for those who got more than seven hours of sleep. At the end of the study, researchers determined that people who slept less than five hours per night were 4.5 times more likely to get sick than those who slept seven hours or more.

Can relationships between people who share very different faiths work? Absolutely—but only if they also share a profound respect for one another and their respective beliefs. Does your girlfriend expect her partner (and perhaps future husband) to have an active shared religious life with her? If so, and if you are certain that this path is not for you, that is a conversation better to be had sooner rather than later.

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If you are open to sharing her experiences, that’s another story. It is also possible to share experiences without necessarily sharing the same beliefs. There are many people who accompany their partners to services that may not reflect their own personal spirituality or beliefs. As long as the expectations you have of one another are clear and accepted by both of you, faith differences do not have to be a deal-breaker.

As long as the expectations you have of one another are clear and accepted by both of you, faith differences do not have to be a deal-breaker.

What is most important is that the two of you have some open and honest conversations about your personal beliefs and the vision you each have for your future. Right now it’s just the two of you negotiating your relationship, but what might happen if you were to eventually start a family together? I imagine she might want her children to share in her faith and her experiences. Is that something you can see yourself accepting and supporting?

There are many families that make it work despite mixing very different religious views. Only the two of you can decide if that path will work for you. These are important conversations to have now and not months or years down the line. If you need help having these conversations, you may want to consult a couples counselor who has experience in issues related to faith-based differences.

Best of luck!
Erika