“I don’t know if any of you know this, but I struggle with depression and ADHD…” she prefaced her comment for the umpteenth time. I struggle to keep from rolling my eyes and the rest of the class sinks farther into the couches—lulled to sleep by the familiar declaration and the sure knowledge that any attempt at participation is futile. Many times my seminary teacher does not even have the chance to finish her question before Anna is off, taking us all on a rambling, bumpy journey through an experience relating only vaguely to the subject matter or cataloguing a litany of self-diagnosed psychological illnesses. It requires either prophetic knowledge of the next question or nigh-on divine intervention for anyone else to respond. My mind drifts off during this latest contribution to envision myself diving across the room, covering her mouth as I rapidly covey the spiritual experience I had last week that relates exactly to the verse we are discussing. I tune back into a passionate account of how hard it was for her to try public schools for a few weeks after being home schooled her whole life. Because everyone else in the room attends public school, I am not sure how much sympathy this arouses. There is nothing like waking up at five in the morning and driving in the dark and cold over roads covered in black ice to put you in an uncharitable mood. It doesn’t help that her bastion of bravery in psychological illness has encouraged many others in the youth group to share their own strivings against depression, ADHD or bipolar disorder at every opportunity. Youth testimony meetings have started to feel more like treatment support groups; the percentage of self-reputedly depressed youth in our ward is double the national average (not an exaggeration, I looked it up). But maybe Anna’s over-eagerness to share psychological weaknesses, has given me a chance to work on improving my own spiritual weaknesses: the patience and charity for others.