was part of the preparation for answering that letter.

Reading your response to"my kids are wrecks, I felt sure that the humility and wisdom it tood to write it had to come though suffering. Those who are free to live as yet unbroken and unbent cannot but believe that life is just, and everyone gets what they deserve.

Some of us are both unfortunate and fortunate enough to know better.

Any parent of a son or daughter with a major mood disorder, like depression or bipolar, needs and deserves educated support. An organization called NAMI (National Alliance for the Mentally Ill) offers a free, 12-week course for family members of people who suffer from those disorders. They have chapters all over the US. Most attendees are parents who are struggling to understand their kids' behavior and destructive choices, not to mention the lack of understanding among friends and even some members of the medical field about what's going on and how to treat it.

The course covers everything from medical info to learning how to communicate with someone in the middle of a crisis. Most importantly, they teach you how to take care of yourself so you can manage your own expectations and cope with whatever part of the roller coaster your riding in a particular week.

My sister is bipolar, as is her young daughter. She won't get treatment, and she only occasionally provides it for my niece. The NAMI course made a world of difference for my parents in dealing with this every day. The friendships they formed with other parents in the same situation are amazing sources of support. I can't recommend it enough.

At that age I too was a train wreck. It's amazing what a decade can do. My life is so...normal now!

Don't be too hard on yourself. You did your best. Also, you have no idea what is going on behind closed doors in those ever-so-perfect families. Or maybe their kids are younger. In anycase they sound like weenies. Wave and cross the street. Buh-bye!

Doing well in high school and attending an Ivy League College does not mean your kid is a success. I attended an ‘elite’ top 20 private university and many of the kids there were wrecks. In my dorm, 30% of were on anti-depressants and I know at least 3 how tried to commit suicide. Anyone who thinks that these schools are filled with happy, adjusted kids needs to visit one on a weekend.

We've got a seventeen year old. At age ten she was diagnosed with severe anxiety disorder and ocd. She started therapy right then; we managed to avoid medications until she was twelve.

Ever since I have been gritting my teeth every time somebody like Tom Cruise makes pronouncements about psychology, brain chemistry, and overmedication. I keep quiet, though there are things I want to say. For example: you don't know what it's like to see a bright kid fold in on herself in terror when she has to speak to a friendly, supportive teacher. You can't imagine what it means to know that the child who taught herself to read at five, who was reading chapter books at eight, is compelled to read the same page over and over again until she is satisfied that she has not hesitated or stumbled over any word.

You don't know what a relief it is to see her come out of that box, and wake back up to the world -- because she is getting medication that addresses the chemical imbalance in her brain. If you did, you wouldn't bad mouth medication, make assumptions about our common sense, or criticize us for that decision we agonized over.

So if I may make another suggestion to all those parents out there who know best. Keep it to yourself, please, and let those of us who have to work harder at it do what we can to keep our kids afloat.

2. Keep raising the bar for getting your approval, and don't be afraid to snub them entirely over things like unclean rooms, imperfect report cards, etc. Make them very afraid that if they mess up even a little, they won't have anyone in the world to turn to, not even at home. (You may need to practice the Angry Taut Face of Hate in order to get it right, but hey, the stakes are huge!).

3. Any time you see them gaining any sort of independent form of confidence in their likability or attractiveness, cut it out from under them immediately. Refuse to buy your adolescent daughter a bra that fits her, so that all the kids at school are guaranteed to snicker at her and refuse to invite her to parties. And never, ever tell her she looks nice. Instead, remind her every chance you get that she doesn't measure up in the sociability department. She'll believe you, what choice does she have left?

Your kid will be miserable and have absolutely no self-confidence or belief in herself. And if she has any friends at all, it'll be a miracle. But at least she'll be safe, and your bragging rights to other parents will remain smugly intact.

Your bragging rights will be intact until your daughter gets to her final years of college and completely mentally and physically breaks down from the twelve years of being labelled as "gifted" but never fufilling expectations, as a constantly raised bar cannot be reached.

Then you'll direct all of your anger at your daughter for not being able to graduate on time, a date which you were looking forward to so you could show off your proud accomplishment to friends and family. Instead of working to prod her, as it has done since her first science fair all-nighter at age 8, it will immensely backfire and she will fall further into a abyss which depths both astounds and confounds her psychiatrist.

It'll be good times.

One thing that made life a lot more manageable for me when my kids were going through rough times was the realization that many of those "other parents" with the flawless offspring and judgmental opinions were throwing rocks from glass houses.

Many of them had kids with problems, too, but I never heard about it. All I heard was the Ivy League acceptances, the job offers, the successes. This while they were telling me what I had done wrong with my kids.

Our family provided a community service, it seems: everyone else could watch my kids and breathe a secret sigh of relief that at least their kids weren't like HER kids. Except you know what? In some cases, their kids were worse off.

Don't listen to the judgmental baloney. It's just noise. Tune anyone who isn't helpful OUT. You, and your kids, are dealing with things that are real and difficult, and you are trying to do a good, honest job of it.

As far as the kids go, it ain't over, as many other letter writers have said. Goodness knows where your kids would be without you. Tread softly, and get support where you can. Remember that the people with perfect children may be taking inventory of your kids because they are afraid to look too closely at their own.

My sons have each gone through some very rough patches, and we muddled through. Nature or nuture? Who cares? They are human beings, your children, and you love them. You did your best, and there is no way to sort out all the stuff: Your best was your best.

Good luck.