My Cruise has a learning disability. So do I. When my parents first discovered that I had trouble acquiring some very basic skills they took me to a psychiatrist who blamed, Surprise! my mother. You see Mom married at 35! Quelle horreur! She'd been a happy career woman before she met dad, she missed her work, and she didn't like being a housewife. In the 1960s, that meant she was neurotic, which was howcome I wrote fifty one as 15.
I don't know what Mr. Cruise's experience was. But I'm betting it wasn't too different. Now I have no interest in Scientology, apparently a moneymaking scheme for a third rate science fiction writer. But we have freedom of religion in this country. The Mormons, the Seventh Day Adventists, and even the oh so respectable Methodists started out as kooky sects.
I do know that psychiatry is a very subjective science. 40 years ago I could have had my sister comitted, because she's a lesbian. Now, she sees a therapist about her relationships.
I have seen more than one friend damaged by therapy. My housemate was depressed. (He was out of work and his wife left him. He'd have been weird if he wasn't depressed.) His doctor put him on Parnate, whcih made him too sick to work. When Newt Gingrich stopped his disability payments, the doctor kept up the Parnate. Never mind that he had no source of income, except occasional loans from me. The stuff damn near gave him a stroke. It made him lethargic and irritable, a real pain in the butt to live with. We were both happy when he went on a new antidepressant.