It has been almost 20 years since I was released as Bishop of my ward. I still live in the same ward, but with turnover, only about 50% of the current members were there for my tenure as the Presiding High Priest of the ward. I don’t attend often, but when I do go there is always somebody that addresses me as Bishop. This rekindles some PTSD in me, although for the most part I enjoyed being Bishop. The telling sign that it was time for me to be released was my blood pressure.
I’m tall and thin, and never had a problem with high blood pressure, and in fact had the opposite problem when I was younger, actually fainting several times when I would jump up quickly after having been laying down. I checked my blood pressure weekly after I was released and it took about a month for it to come back to normal.
(Note, the slight PTSD I have is nothing compared to what our returning solders go through. I don’t not want to minimize what PTSD is, or the horrific debilitating mental anguish they go through. Maybe a better word is anxiety?)
While my mission was great, and I have no regrets going to Chile for two years, I still, 48 years later have dreams about getting called to go back, causing me to wake up in a cold sweat. Granted, I have the same nightmares about missing my Organic Chemistry class at the university and having a test that I have not studied for!
Not all reminders of my Bishop-hood is bad. Just last week a very active lady in the ward that is friends with my wife came up to me as I was dropping off my wife at her home, and said she wanted to give me a hug for being the best bishop she has ever had. She knows I have problems with the Church, and that is the reason I don’t attend. She is currently having trouble with the current bishop and she said she really appreciated they way I governed the ward. As I’ve said before, I had a very hands off approach to leading, and pretty much let people do what they wanted in the quorums and auxiliaries. It got me in trouble with the Stake President a few times, but I figured the worst they could do to me was release me early, which they never did.
For all you nuanced and former members out there, what has been your experience with Church related PTSD now that you have taken a step back from full engagement? Are there things that trigger you, like hearing a GA voice during General Conference, or having a member from your ward knock on your door?
How many of you still have mission dreams? Going to the Temple dreams?
Wheat & Tares 
I’m 22 years post mission (and 24 years post organic chemistry) so those dreams are much less frequent than they used to be. My mission dream was often that I had returned for a second mission despite being married work children. Thankfully I’ve never been a bishop.
There are a couple GAs that I am unable and unwilling to engage with anymore. I simply don’t trust them. This means I will miss out on anything potentially enlightening they might one day say. Even if I saw glowing reviews on a conference talk of theirs, I’m not sure I can be unbiased about them.
I still have generally positive feelings about my ward members, probably significantly because I don’t go to any adult classes.
I get the second mission dream every now and then. Most recently, I dreamed that I accepted a second mission but in that dream I kept fearing how I would tell everyone that I’m not a believer.
In the 1970/80’s LDS church, we would often hear analogies of the church compared to Star Wars. In honor of that history and with the ending of Andor, I would like to use that tradition.
For those of us who grew up in the heartland of the Empire, we were indoctrinated since infancy that outsiders were “evil” and that only WE had the “truth”. We viewed those that left the Empire and joined the rebellion, as placed in outer darkness. We were told the Empire, masked as God’s will, was to eventually convert the world. Most of us were placed as sales representatives, as missionaries or through various local demanding callings. We pushed the narrative that everyone needs to join the Empire or be destroyed. However, many of us have witnessed a traumatic event or abuse due to church policy or culture. How we react determines our life arc or Mormon arc. This is especially true when we witness these abuses repetitively, each time possibly creating more PTSD.
When we are born again, we recognize the Empire and the rebellion’s roles are completely reversed.
Sometimes this happens on a LDS mission or from a high demanding calling. Other possibilities are during a worthiness interview, a policy/doctrine shift, or worse case during a verbal or physical assault. Once awake, do we pack it down and continue in the Empire, or escape? The church is a breeding ground for PTSD. Each is re-framed, by the church, as needed sacrifice, obedience, and for eternal blessings. The PTSD for sexual abuse cases is ignored or paid off with an out of court settlement with tithing dollars without any professional counseling. The PTSD created from questioning authority results in ex-communication. PTSD from bullying and shaming is ongoing.
Last night, a family member mentioned that the missionaries and members in our area are perplexed with a new local policy. The Mission President has prohibited giving out copies of the Book of Mormon without a payment. Some missionaries will eventually end up with with PTSD from diminished lesson numbers and baptisms with . The members should wonder, why are we paying for BOM’s when the church has $300B? My TBM family believes that it is only a rouge leader, but doubts when I push back informing him that other MP are disallowing dinners for missionaries without an investigator present and these type of problems are widespread throughout the whole church. This creates future PTSD with the hungry missionaries. The cycle continues of binding active members to the Empire, while the empire causes more unnecessary harm.
My anger comes when the Q15 know of each of these problems and continues with the policies that creates more PTSD and harm to members and the community. They are not leaders, they are cowards! They could easily stop the ongoing PTSD, but that would undermine the Empire and their control. More “regular” members need to ask the questions and listen to their conscious to continue with an organization or policy that continues to harm people and create more PTSD. Some members woke up with Prop 8/ POX1/POX2/Musket, recognizing the harm. Others with the SEC investigation/Sam Young/ Polyandry/ Etc. The faucet continues to leak with no intent of real repair. I foresee when Lord Bednar takes control, more members will stand up and walk with their feet and pocketbooks, and say enough is enough. I pray that more of my family and friends, will awaken prior to these events. Why do the Q15 knowingly and selfishly have to create another decade+ of PTSD?
Former member and bishop here. I wouldn’t call mine PTSD per se, more like bouts of anxiety. Comments about worthiness or anything that causes me to feel like I’m not enough trigger it. I attended a friend’s son’s missionary farewell a while ago and I almost had a full-on anxiety attack in sacrament meeting.
I used to be triggered by conference talks / conference voices and would insist that my wife turn them off. Now I encourage her to do what she wants, including listening while I’m in the room, but it took a couple of years before getting to this point. But… if I had a child get married in the temple without me it would trigger that anxiety about worthiness again.
Lol, I think of the Barbie Movie song “Im just Ken.” In any other church I’d be a ten…
In commenting and responding in recent years on this site, I have felt seen and heard as I have shared things that bug me. It feels like many around me (including spouse) are blissfully ignorant of how Joseph Smith might have created this whole Empire and how Brigham Young was also an opportunist. These days we clean our own church buildings while the stock portfolio grows (SL Tribune 17 MAY 2025). I want to shout from the rooftops “Wake Up Everybody” as sung by Elder Ted E. Pendergrass.
I am holding on to a temple recommend until a certain wedding occurs which is problematic because it is mildly triggering to be asked to help give a blessing or attend a convert baptism. Thankfully, no weird dreams for me anymore.
Also, what’s so wrong about beer/tattoos/honky-tonks/DQ/7-11/hot dogs/crocs/sweats/Bon Jovi/Dua Lipa/irish nachos?
My husband gets the second mission dream, with wife, kids and job. It seems to be fairly common.
And yes, anything that gives you nightmares for years, I would say that caused mild PTSD. Not as bad of PTSD as the rape victims I used to work with as their counselor, or combat veterans.
My nightmares about church are not about one specific time, like a mission or say when I was RSP, but are just in general about church. One is running through endless church halls full of classrooms, foyers, and chapels, looking for a way out. It is never clear what I am terrified off, or why I am alone in a dark and empty church building. Another is about a shepherd who counts his sheep as they enter his barn. The rams shove their way to the front and the shepherd only counts his 100 rams and then when they are safely inside, he locks the barn door, leaving the majority of the ewes and lambs outside with an approaching storm and howling wolves. He treats his rams to comfy chairs, serves them popcorn while they watch a movie, meanwhile the wolves are moving in on those left outside. Yup, the shepherd’s treatment of his flock reflect the sexist way the church treats its members, in case that isn’t glaringly obvious.
I used to have mission dreams, and they were terrifying. In one recurring dream, I was called back on a mission—even though I was already married and raising a child. Those dreams really shook me. We haven’t attended church in several years now.
When I was a returned missionary attending BYU, I worked as a mail delivery driver for the on-campus mail service. That’s when I started listening to books on tape. One of the first was Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. I want to be clear: nothing I’ve experienced in my life comes close to surviving the Holocaust—that goes without saying. But as I listened to the audiobook aloud, I was struck—and honestly a bit unsettled—by how deeply I connected with Frankl’s emotional reflections.
I had been taught that a mission was supposed to be the best two years of your life, a foundation for everything that follows. And in many ways, it was that for me. But listening to Frankl’s words held up a mirror to my experience. I began to recognize the harmful, even abusive, aspects of missionary life—things that can be hard to name, especially when the experience is also framed as meaningful or joyful. It was a complicated realization, but one I couldn’t unsee.
Also have had the second mission dream. More than once. It’s a nightmare.
Elder Holland was on my airplane to my mission and spoke to the mission. I couldn’t get enough of him. Then the musket fire talk happened. I cannot stand the sight or sound of him anymore. It’s like the Target boycott. I never expected much from the others but I thought he got it. I guess not.
I was bullied in scouts and the leaders did not care. While my kids weren’t being bullied the exclusion and shade they experienced at church triggered me and so we left. I saw the cycle continuing so I broke the chain. While their current friend groups aren’t perfect, I truly believe they have healthier relationships outside the Mormon clique.
Certain “hymns” are triggering for me, to the extent that I have to leave: Praise To the Man, Oh how Lovely was the Morning, We Thank Thee Oh God for a Prophet(Profit)- these are the worst! Others I abhor are all the ones advocating violence: Onward Christian Soldiers, Battle Hymn of the Republic, and other Christian Nationalist type hymns. Conference is triggering except for possibly 2 speakers.
Some of the examples given so far may actually be manifestations of moral injury, which is related to PTSD and has some overlap on a Venn diagram but isn’t quite the same thing, but is definitely worthy of further exploration and discussion. And like PTSD, moral injury is often discussed in the context of military veterans unpacking trauma; it’s about the psychological damage resulting from a person being compelled to act against their own conscience and core beliefs. LDS examples could include a young missionary being pushed to baptize an unprepared convert, or a senior companion feeling justified in berating an ill/injured junior missionary as being lazy. Or a bishop who withholds financial assistance to a deserving needy person after being chastised by a penny-pinching stake president for being too generous. Use your imagination; I’ll wager we all have been victims of this to some extent. And moral injuries have lasting consequences that often don’t manifest themselves until years after the fact.
As an EQ president many years ago, I took certain actions that ended up hurting people, and was fully aware of the hurt I was causing, but did it anyway because I believed I was being “righteous” and “obedient”. Years later I realized I was also the victim of a system, in which an overzealous bishop and stake president, both of whom were clueless about the needs of the men I served, were making me feel like I was in a constant state of failure and jeopardizing the salvation of every man in my ward. I wish I had the moral courage at the time to tell them both to pound sand, and simply follow my conscience in making EQ leadership decisions. Memories that time still make me feel sick.
I served as a sister missionary a good 20 years ago, and I get the “being called back to the mission field” dream about 1x-2x a year I think – usually when I am wanting the structure and implied security of the mission field in my life.
I don’t have Mormon mission nightmares and I never was the bishop. I was briefly leading the branch and district on my mission while we hunted for someone to call. The new branch president was drinking beer in my interview with him but he put it down and got to work. He was kind and good for the failing branch.
I am still not over being Mormon. I am reminded still that I see the world through that lens even though I have left it behind. I shed that identity but the edges of it remain. Thanks for being one of the last places I get to explore what that meant and what it could be even though I now read it in the morning while I drink coffee.
Former Bishop here, less than a decade since my release. I am fortunate that both my Bishop experience (it was a terrific ward) and overall experiences in the church were positive. I generally liked my mission, my callings, attending BYU, pretty much everything in the church worked for me.
As I tell people, if you are a straight white male who generally likes to follow the rules, you’ll probably do pretty well and be treated quite well in the LDS church. I was.
I can’t say I really l get Mormon specific “PTSD” dreams much, but I do still remember a particular Bishop experience, not a dream, that discomforts me the more I look back on it.
Every year or two, a visiting apostle to the Washington DC area would gather all the bishoprics and stake presidencies in a local stake center for instruction* and a saccharine Q&A on a Saturday. (I’m sure they still do this). It was characterized as a privilege — an opportunity to hear directly from an apostle and a few other highly placed GAs traveling with him — and I treated it as such.
The conformity and strictness were off the charts. Each presidency/bishopric had to sit together by ward and by stake. You had to be at the stake center and in your seat 15 minutes early. Heaven help you if you were late. Everything had to be in perfect order for the apostle when he finally walked in.
I remember taking a look around the packed chapel, uniformly dark suits, white shirts, short hair, 98% White, and not a single female in sight. It vaguely occurred to me on the occasions I attended this meeting what an incredibly conformist group this was and whether this was part of God’s plan? Now looking back, I’m pretty sure this was never God’s plan. I’m so, so glad I won’t ever waste a beautiful Saturday, away from my family, stuck in a chapel, doing this kind of thing again.
* One year, Elder Ballard was the visiting apostle and the Ordain Women movement that had originated in the DC area was still fresh. I remember Elder Ballard thundering from the pulpit, “Brethren, women will never receive the priesthood.” Pause. He then repeated it, pausing again for emphasis.
I’m pretty confident Elder Ballard, like so many other prior LDS prophets, seers, and revelators, will eventually be proved wrong, but it may not be in my lifetime.
I used to get the mission dream until I wrote my mission memoir, and it was like I finally exorcised my demons. I literally haven’t had it again since! Seeing all these Mormon-themed shows popping up in my streaming services is a little triggering. When I was a teen my parents said they would only pay for my schooling if I went to BYU. I did not want to go to BYU at all. All my friends were going to Penn State. I felt like I had no choice in the matter: 100% paid for or 0% paid for. I went to BYU. I used to have a nightmare at that time that my parents forced me into an arranged marriage with someone I found completely unattractive and uninteresting. This wasn’t an actual person I knew, but it was someone who represented feeling pushed into a life I hadn’t chosen.
In the decade or so post mission, I had dreams of going again, but they generally weren’t bad dreams, just weird. I’ve not had one in recent memory that I can recall. I had a really amazing mission experience and consider myself lucky. Under different circumstances perhaps my post mission experience would have been different. I don’t ever remember having dreams about going to the temple. I do think that people’s first temple experience often sets the tone for how they feel about it for decades to come, and we prepare people so poorly. I was grateful that my stake president talked me through a lot of what was going to happen in advance, which made the experience a little less jarring, if still a bit confusing.
I’ve never been bishop. The two most demanding callings I’ve had were Elders’ Quorum president and early morning seminary teacher. EQ president was more stressful and felt like a small glimpse of being bishop. Seminary was quite intense, and left me constantly craving sleep. I didn’t serve a particularly long time in either role for various reasons, which may be why I don’t feel any sense of PTSD about them.