Concerned (and Hopeful) About the Mental Health Crisis in Kids & Teens

Jason Anderson, LMSW



More and more data is surfacing about the mental health crisis in our children and teens. A recent statistic from the American Psychological Association shows that 1 in 5 under the age of 18 have a diagnosable mental health disorder, and only 20% of these children are receiving professional help or treatment for their feelings of depression and anxiety.

We are all mostly aware of some of the recent factors that contribute to this rise. Covid-19 protocols created periods of isolation and disruption from routines and school services. Socially and politically, it feels like our families and communities have never been so fractured and full of distrust. Social media has now been researched long enough to show direct correlation between screen time and anxiety in teens.


There is another factor, however, that I have been following since I obtained my Masters in Social Work in 2011. It’s an idea called “internal locus of control” and it’s absence is one of the leading factors associated with depression and anxiety in children (and adults). The idea contrasts the freedom one experiences to direct their own life (internal), versus the external expectations, busyness, stress, and social demands that dictate choices from the outside.


Researchers at the University of Michigan found the time kids spent at school has increased by more than 18%, and time spent on homework has increased 145% since the 1980’s. This study doesn’t even include the time spent at structured practices, rehearsals, clubs or games. We have become so performance driven that our kids have less and less time for “free play”.


In our performance driven culture in which we find worth and value in what we produce or achieve, kids are losing the sense that they have freedom to be curious and explore. Less time to play, and less motivation to play outside.  A Dutch study found that 30% of kids play freely outside only once a week or less.  Another study in the US shows that 80% of kids today feel less “in control” of their lives than kids from my era. This disparity provides content for interesting memes about growing up in the 70s and 80s, but it is also having very real consequences for the mental health of our kids today.


Well-meaning parents are giving their kids more parenting time, hoping to give them a competitive advantage or keep them safer. Parents today spend 150% more time parenting than our parents did in the 1980’s. The unintended consequence? Kids feel less independent, less in control of their own lives, less capable, and therefore experience a diminishing “internal locus of control”. 


For all of our efforts to give our kids a better life, we are forgetting that one of their primary developmental tasks is to achieve a belief in their own self-efficacy. Kids need to face challenges and risks. Kids need to face boredom. Kids need to invent some of their own games, follow some new paths from day to day, and discover the real world around them. In these choices and discoveries they will form one of the healthiest cognitions for any of us, “I can do this”.


So for all of the bad news, where is the hope?


The hope is that deep within their DNA, kids are still humans that want a chance to direct their own lives! Anyone who has parented a toddler can remember that raw strength of will and determination. I recently asked my 8th grader “what is the fastest land mammal?”. He said “cheetah”. But I corrected him and said , “Nope, a toddler who was just asked ‘what do you have in your mouth?!’”


Kids are hardwired to manage some risk and develop strengths in the face of challenges. An encouraging study from Scandinavia found that elementary kids who were exposed to more free play, including slightly higher risk levels, were less likely to encounter injury or distress. Believe it or not, they navigated the more “dangerous” playground equipment with less supervision and developed their own skills for maintaining both their physical safety and mental health. They built an “internal locus of control” for directing their own behavior in a wide open world!


In my next blog, I’ll dive further into how kids, teens specifically, can strengthen an “internal locus of control” and build resilience against depression and anxiety.



Jason Anderson, LMSW is a therapist at Restore Therapy Collective. Jason’s work stems from a desire to see people overcome personal barriers, form authentic relationships, and appreciate the beauty around them. Jason also has a deep love for using wilderness travel adventures to bring people to new discoveries within themselves and foster a greater love for the natural world. 



Restore Therapy Collective

By Kevin Dykstra, MDiv June 12, 2026
Having served both as an ordained pastor and as a mental health professional, I have repeatedly heard strong emotions surrounding the idea of deconstructing - a process in which individuals systematically evaluate and question religious and spiritual beliefs and practices. Most often, I hear fear and anxiety from those who are personally wrestling with deconstruction or watching someone they love go through it. Such fears frequently include: - Fear of divine retribution or punishment - Fear that a loved one will abandon their faith - Fear of losing community or damaging family relationships - Fear of losing one’s identity - Grief over the loss of certainty - Fear of losing meaning or purpose This list could go on, of course, and it is not meant to be exhaustive. The point is that the idea of deconstruction can be highly intimidating for many people and it often brings up significant fear and distress, leading people to seek guidance from trusted faith leaders and mental health professionals. Unfortunately, there are also many less-than-helpful beliefs about what it means to undergo the process of deconstruction. So let's break some of these down: Deconstruction inevitably leads to abandoning religious belief Deconstruction is defined as a process - a process of evaluating, analyzing, and questioning one's own religiosity and/or spirituality. Engaging in this process does not, however, naturally lead to the abandonment of religious belief. Some individuals ultimately step away from religious identification altogether (de-identify), while others move toward reconstruction - retaining some elements of faith, though often reshaped. In fact, some have argued that a cycle of deconstruction and reconstruction may result in a more mature faith and may be a natural part of human growth and development. Things won't get better after deconstructing One thing we know about spirituality and religiosity is that they are incredibly sticky. What I mean by that is that they are incredibly powerful social forces and have deep impacts on our identity, morality, community, and even emotional reflexes. The impact of religion and spirituality can sometimes be hard to shake, even if you have left your religion or reconstructed with a new religious identity and understanding. For example, someone who has left a rigid religious environment may find themselves reproducing similar all-or-nothing, black-and-white thinking patterns in secular contexts. Other individuals might find that they struggle to shake a fear of divine punishment or retribution, despite having stopped believing in either hell or God. This is normal. Over time, though, many individuals' distress or struggles in these areas do soften in intensity. Reasons for deconstruction can be boiled down to one cause Reasons for undergoing the process of deconstruction vary. For some, deconstruction begins with an internal sense that what they were taught to think and believe conflicts with the behaviors or gut sense of what they believe to be true, launching the person into a period of intellectual questioning. Others begin deconstruction as a direct result of religious trauma and abuses experienced in religious/spiritual contexts. Others begin the process after experiencing a profound loss or death that their faith system does not seem able to explain or make sense of. Point being: the reasons for deconstruction vary and often begin with honest, sincere questions, doubts, concerns, and a search for answers or truth.  If you or someone you care about is facing challenges associated with deconstruction, though, what can you do? Be patient Remember that deconstruction is a process, not a single decision, event, or destination. This process may take time and may not be forced. And if you have left religion or spirituality behind, remember that the emotional intensity associated with previous beliefs often softens over time, and you may notice that your distress gradually lessens. Seek out a trusted religious/spiritual leader or other wise and trusted mentor You may be surprised to find that your religious leader has undergone a similar process or has resources that might be able to help you navigate this issue. The process of deconstruction does not have to be explicitly anti-religious and some individuals may find they benefit from addressing their concerns with faith leaders. Seek out a mental health professional The process of deconstruction can result in feeling highly anxious, depressed, or that life feels unbearable. Finding a mental health professional who understands the process of faith change, respects you and your journey, and can provide resources for coping with related mental health concerns can be tremendously helpful. Find resources related to deconstruction, faith change, religious/spiritual trauma, and other related issues There is an increasing number of resources aimed at helping individuals dealing with these issues, including the book used as inspiration for this article written by a Hope College professor of psychology and director of the Frost Center, Dr, Daryl R. Van Tongeren (2024). Books, audiobooks, and podcasts from professionals and individuals with lived experience may help you gain a greater appreciation and awareness for what you are experiencing.
By Jonah Maichele April 20, 2026
As a runner, I’ve learned that progress rarely comes from a single run. Rather, it comes from doing the reps time and time again. Sometimes, it means long miles when my legs feel strong. Other times, it is dragging myself out the door when it’s still pitch black outside, and the temperature is well below freezing. Of course there have been plenty of mornings when the last thing I wanted to do was run (And there still are days I don’t want to). But over time, the runs that felt difficult or like a chore, slowly became part of my routine. Changing behavior and creating a routine often works the same way. Many people come into counseling hoping for a breakthrough moment and/or quick fix, where everything suddenly makes sense and life feels easier. These moments can happen, but lasting change more often comes from practicing new ways of thinking, responding, and caring for yourself over and over again. In other words, it comes from doing the reps. In running, a rep might be a mile repeat or a long training run. In mental health, the reps look different. They might be things like pausing before reacting in a difficult conversation, challenging a negative thought instead of automatically believing it, or practicing a coping skill when anxiety starts to rise. At first, these reps can feel awkward and uncomfortable. Just like starting a new training plan, the effort can feel heavy in the beginning. Our brains adapt in much the same way our bodies do. With each rep, new patterns start to take hold. That coping skill becomes more natural. The pause before reacting becomes easier. That difficult conversation becomes more manageable. Here are some reps you can give a try Drink a full glass of water when you wake up in the morning. Take five minutes before bed to simply focus on your breathing. Step outside for a short walk, even if it’s just around the block. Pause and take three slow breaths when you notice stress building. Write down one thing you’re grateful for at the end of the day. Remember! The goal isn’t perfection. It’s getting in the reps. Start with something small, even if it feels too easy. Some days the reps will feel easier than others. Some days they’ll feel heavy. Change tends to come from continuing to show up anyway. And eventually, the things that once felt difficult start to feel normal. That’s when real change begins to take hold.  Jonah Maichele is a counseling intern at Restore Therapy Collective. In his free time, Jonah enjoys running, playing guitar, and hammocking at the beach. His favorite foods include sushi, orange chicken, and his grandma’s specialty gnocchis.
By Morgan Peterson, LLMFT, LLPC February 25, 2026
I so often hear things like, “I know I shouldn’t get angry, but I do,” or, “I get so anxious, and I should just let it go.” It’s a common refrain of things that should be done and ways we should behave. We talk about emotions as something to control rather than work alongside, but what would happen if we learned to work with our emotions rather than against them? Think of our emotions as a horse—they’re instinctual, reactive, powerful, and often rooted in survival mechanisms. Just like a horse, they can be strong and seemingly unpredictable. Now think of the rational part of ourselves as the rider of the horse; this is the part of us that plans, is logical, and tries to stay in control to lead us in deliberate direction. The goal isn’t to “break” the horse and give the rider total control, and the goal is also not to let the horse run wild. The goal is to build a relationship between the two. When the horse and rider work together in harmony, the journey is smooth. The horse provides energy and motivation while the rider offers direction and guidance. If the horse is too in charge, it might bolt with fear, anger, or desire, and this can lead us off trail. If the rider is too dominating, they may ignore signals from the horse until it erupts, or the horse is stifled to the point of low energy and lack of motivation. Therapeutic work often involves helping the rider understand and work with the horse by learning how to notice, respond to, and gently guide it. The goal isn’t control, but connection. It’s about building relationship between emotions and our rational selves to encourage understanding, respect, and resiliency within ourselves. We can listen to our emotions without being overwhelmed by them, and we can use our rational mind without it becoming a harsh inner-critic. Emotional regulation isn’t about silencing emotions, but learning to ride with them. Morgan Peterson, LLMFT, LLPC, is a therapist at Restore Therapy Collective. Morgan’s passion is helping people improve their relationships—with others and with themselves. When not in session, you can find her gardening, knitting, reading, or doing other “grandma” hobbies.
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