Anxiety Disorders

On March 16, the world was witness to a horrific act of violence when a gunman killed six Asian American women and two others at spas in the Atlanta, Georgia area. The attack prompted a national outcry and protests against the rising levels of hate and violence directed at Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPI), a community that has experienced a profound and disturbing legacy of racism in American history.

Despite this fact, my own understanding and awareness of the hate and racism experienced by the AAPI community, then and now, would be described as limited at best. Was I aware on some level? Perhaps. But if I’m being honest, I have not fully appreciated the unique experiences of AAPI colleagues, friends, and students.

That changed when I attended a White Coats Against Asian Hate & Racism rally, held by the George Washington University School of Medicine and Health Sciences 2 months after the Atlanta killings. Hearing my colleagues speak of their personal experiences, I quickly realized my lack of education on the subject of how systemic racism has long affected Asian Americans in this country.
 

Measuring the alarming rise in anti-Asian hate

The data supporting a rise in anti-Asian hate crimes have been staring us in the face for decades but have drawn increasing attention since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, when these already distressingly high numbers experienced a steep rise.

Before looking at these figures, though, we must begin by defining what is considered a hate crime versus a hate incident. The National Asian Pacific American Bar Association and Asian & Pacific Islander American Health Forum have produced a beneficial summary document on precisely what separates these terms:

• A hate crime is a crime committed on the basis of the victim’s perceived or actual race, color, religion, national origin, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability. It differs from “regular” crime in that its victims include the immediate crime target and others like them. Hate crimes affect families, communities, and, at times, an entire nation.
• A hate incident describes acts of prejudice that are not crimes and do not involve violence, threats, or property damage. The most common examples are isolated forms of speech, such as racial slurs.

Stop AAPI Hate (SAH) was founded in March 2020 as a coalition to track and analyze incidents of hate against this community. SAH’s 2020-2021 national report details 3,795 hate incidents that occurred from March 19, 2020, to Feb. 28, 2021. In a notable parallel to the Georgia killings, SAH found that Asian American women reported hate incidents 2.3 times more often than men and that businesses were the primary site of discrimination.

This rise in hate incidents has occurred in parallel with an increase in Asian American hate crimes. Recently, the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism (CSUSB) released its Report to the Nation: Anti-Asian Prejudice & Hate Crime. CSUSB found that anti-Asian hate crimes increased by 164% in the first quarter of 2021. I re-read that data point multiple times, thinking it must be in error. If you’re asking exactly why I was having difficulty accepting this data, you have to appreciate these two critical points:

• Per the CSUSB, anti-Asian hate crimes were already surging by 146% in 2020.
• This surge occurred while overall hate crimes dropped by 7%.

So, if 2020 was a surge, the first quarter of 2021 is a hurricane. What’s perhaps most concerning is that these data only capture reported cases and therefore are a fraction of the total.

Undoubtedly, we are living through an unprecedented rise in anti-Asian hate incidents and hate crimes since the start of the pandemic. This rise in hate-related events paralleled the many pandemic-related stressors (disease, isolation, economics, mental health, etc.). Should anyone have been surprised when this most recent deadly spike of anti-Asian hate occurred in the first quarter of 2021?
 

Hate’s toll on mental health

As a psychiatrist, I’ve spent my entire career working with dedicated teams to treat patients with mental health disorders. Currently, hate is not classified by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders as a mental illness. However, I can’t think of another emotion that is a better candidate for further research and scientific instigation, if for no other reason than to better understand when prejudice and bias transform into hatred and crime.

Surprisingly, there has been relatively little research on the topic of hate in the fields of psychology and psychiatry. I’d be willing to wager that if you asked a typical graduating class of medical students to give you an actual working definition of the emotion of hate, most would be at a loss for words.

Dr. Fischer and Dr. Halperin published a helpful article that gives a functional perspective on hate. The authors cover a great deal of research on hate and offer the following four starting points valuable in considering it:

• “Hate is different from anger because an anger target is appraised as someone whose behavior can be influenced and changed.”
• “A hate target, on the contrary, implies appraisals of the other’s malevolent nature and malicious intent.”
• “Hate is characterized by appraisals that imply a stable perception of a person or group and thus the incapability to change the extremely negative characteristics attributed to the target of hate.”
• “Everyday observations also suggest that hate is so powerful that it does, not just temporarily but permanently, destroy relations between individuals or groups.”

When I view hate with these insights in mind, it completely changes how I choose to utilize the word or concept. Hate is an emotion whose goal/action tendency is to eliminate groups (not just people or obstacles) and destroy any current or future relationships. We can take this a step further in noting that hate spreads, not only to the intended targets but potentially my “own” group. Similar to secondhand smoke, there is no risk-free exposure to hate or racism.

In the past decade, a robust body of evidence has emerged that clearly illustrates the negative health impacts of racism. Dr. Paradies and colleagues performed a systematic meta-analysis explicitly focused on racism as a determinant of health, finding that it was associated with poorer mental health, including depression, anxiety, and psychological distress. Over the past two decades, researchers have increasingly looked at the effects of racial discrimination on the AAPI community. In their 2009 review article, Dr. Gee and colleagues identified 62 empirical articles assessing the relation between discrimination and health among Asian Americans. Most of the studies found that discrimination was associated with poorer health. Of the 40 studies focused on mental health, 37 reported that discrimination was associated with poorer outcomes.

SAH recently released its very illuminating Mental Health Report. Among several key findings, two in particular caught my attention. First, Asian Americans who have experienced racism are more stressed by anti-Asian hate than the pandemic itself. Second, one in five Asian Americans who have experienced racism display racial trauma, the psychological and emotional harm caused by racism. Given the rise in hate crimes, there must be concern regarding the level of trauma being inflicted upon the Asian American community.

A complete review of the health effects of racism is beyond this article’s scope. Still, the previously mentioned studies further support the need to treat racism in general, and specifically anti-Asian hate, as the urgent public health concern that it truly is. The U.S. government recently outlined an action plan to respond to anti-Asian violence, xenophobia, and bias. These are helpful first steps, but much more is required on a societal and individual level, given the mental health disparities faced by the AAPI community.

Determining the best ways to address this urgent public health concern can be overwhelming, exhausting, and outright demoralizing. The bottom line is that if we do nothing, communities and groups will continue to suffer the effects of racial hatred. These consequences are severe and transgenerational.

But we must start somewhere. For me, that begins by gaining a better understanding of the emotion of hate and my role in either facilitating or stopping it, and by listening, listening, and listening some more to AAPI colleagues, friends, and family about their lived experience with anti-Asian hate.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

On March 16, the world was witness to a horrific act of violence when a gunman killed six Asian American women and two others at spas in the Atlanta, Georgia area. The attack prompted a national outcry and protests against the rising levels of hate and violence directed at Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPI), a community that has experienced a profound and disturbing legacy of racism in American history.

Despite this fact, my own understanding and awareness of the hate and racism experienced by the AAPI community, then and now, would be described as limited at best. Was I aware on some level? Perhaps. But if I’m being honest, I have not fully appreciated the unique experiences of AAPI colleagues, friends, and students.

That changed when I attended a White Coats Against Asian Hate & Racism rally, held by the George Washington University School of Medicine and Health Sciences 2 months after the Atlanta killings. Hearing my colleagues speak of their personal experiences, I quickly realized my lack of education on the subject of how systemic racism has long affected Asian Americans in this country.
 

Measuring the alarming rise in anti-Asian hate

The data supporting a rise in anti-Asian hate crimes have been staring us in the face for decades but have drawn increasing attention since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, when these already distressingly high numbers experienced a steep rise.

Before looking at these figures, though, we must begin by defining what is considered a hate crime versus a hate incident. The National Asian Pacific American Bar Association and Asian & Pacific Islander American Health Forum have produced a beneficial summary document on precisely what separates these terms:

• A hate crime is a crime committed on the basis of the victim’s perceived or actual race, color, religion, national origin, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability. It differs from “regular” crime in that its victims include the immediate crime target and others like them. Hate crimes affect families, communities, and, at times, an entire nation.
• A hate incident describes acts of prejudice that are not crimes and do not involve violence, threats, or property damage. The most common examples are isolated forms of speech, such as racial slurs.

Stop AAPI Hate (SAH) was founded in March 2020 as a coalition to track and analyze incidents of hate against this community. SAH’s 2020-2021 national report details 3,795 hate incidents that occurred from March 19, 2020, to Feb. 28, 2021. In a notable parallel to the Georgia killings, SAH found that Asian American women reported hate incidents 2.3 times more often than men and that businesses were the primary site of discrimination.

This rise in hate incidents has occurred in parallel with an increase in Asian American hate crimes. Recently, the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism (CSUSB) released its Report to the Nation: Anti-Asian Prejudice & Hate Crime. CSUSB found that anti-Asian hate crimes increased by 164% in the first quarter of 2021. I re-read that data point multiple times, thinking it must be in error. If you’re asking exactly why I was having difficulty accepting this data, you have to appreciate these two critical points:

• Per the CSUSB, anti-Asian hate crimes were already surging by 146% in 2020.
• This surge occurred while overall hate crimes dropped by 7%.

So, if 2020 was a surge, the first quarter of 2021 is a hurricane. What’s perhaps most concerning is that these data only capture reported cases and therefore are a fraction of the total.

Undoubtedly, we are living through an unprecedented rise in anti-Asian hate incidents and hate crimes since the start of the pandemic. This rise in hate-related events paralleled the many pandemic-related stressors (disease, isolation, economics, mental health, etc.). Should anyone have been surprised when this most recent deadly spike of anti-Asian hate occurred in the first quarter of 2021?
 

Hate’s toll on mental health

As a psychiatrist, I’ve spent my entire career working with dedicated teams to treat patients with mental health disorders. Currently, hate is not classified by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders as a mental illness. However, I can’t think of another emotion that is a better candidate for further research and scientific instigation, if for no other reason than to better understand when prejudice and bias transform into hatred and crime.

Surprisingly, there has been relatively little research on the topic of hate in the fields of psychology and psychiatry. I’d be willing to wager that if you asked a typical graduating class of medical students to give you an actual working definition of the emotion of hate, most would be at a loss for words.

Dr. Fischer and Dr. Halperin published a helpful article that gives a functional perspective on hate. The authors cover a great deal of research on hate and offer the following four starting points valuable in considering it:

• “Hate is different from anger because an anger target is appraised as someone whose behavior can be influenced and changed.”
• “A hate target, on the contrary, implies appraisals of the other’s malevolent nature and malicious intent.”
• “Hate is characterized by appraisals that imply a stable perception of a person or group and thus the incapability to change the extremely negative characteristics attributed to the target of hate.”
• “Everyday observations also suggest that hate is so powerful that it does, not just temporarily but permanently, destroy relations between individuals or groups.”

When I view hate with these insights in mind, it completely changes how I choose to utilize the word or concept. Hate is an emotion whose goal/action tendency is to eliminate groups (not just people or obstacles) and destroy any current or future relationships. We can take this a step further in noting that hate spreads, not only to the intended targets but potentially my “own” group. Similar to secondhand smoke, there is no risk-free exposure to hate or racism.

In the past decade, a robust body of evidence has emerged that clearly illustrates the negative health impacts of racism. Dr. Paradies and colleagues performed a systematic meta-analysis explicitly focused on racism as a determinant of health, finding that it was associated with poorer mental health, including depression, anxiety, and psychological distress. Over the past two decades, researchers have increasingly looked at the effects of racial discrimination on the AAPI community. In their 2009 review article, Dr. Gee and colleagues identified 62 empirical articles assessing the relation between discrimination and health among Asian Americans. Most of the studies found that discrimination was associated with poorer health. Of the 40 studies focused on mental health, 37 reported that discrimination was associated with poorer outcomes.

SAH recently released its very illuminating Mental Health Report. Among several key findings, two in particular caught my attention. First, Asian Americans who have experienced racism are more stressed by anti-Asian hate than the pandemic itself. Second, one in five Asian Americans who have experienced racism display racial trauma, the psychological and emotional harm caused by racism. Given the rise in hate crimes, there must be concern regarding the level of trauma being inflicted upon the Asian American community.

A complete review of the health effects of racism is beyond this article’s scope. Still, the previously mentioned studies further support the need to treat racism in general, and specifically anti-Asian hate, as the urgent public health concern that it truly is. The U.S. government recently outlined an action plan to respond to anti-Asian violence, xenophobia, and bias. These are helpful first steps, but much more is required on a societal and individual level, given the mental health disparities faced by the AAPI community.

Determining the best ways to address this urgent public health concern can be overwhelming, exhausting, and outright demoralizing. The bottom line is that if we do nothing, communities and groups will continue to suffer the effects of racial hatred. These consequences are severe and transgenerational.

But we must start somewhere. For me, that begins by gaining a better understanding of the emotion of hate and my role in either facilitating or stopping it, and by listening, listening, and listening some more to AAPI colleagues, friends, and family about their lived experience with anti-Asian hate.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

On March 16, the world was witness to a horrific act of violence when a gunman killed six Asian American women and two others at spas in the Atlanta, Georgia area. The attack prompted a national outcry and protests against the rising levels of hate and violence directed at Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPI), a community that has experienced a profound and disturbing legacy of racism in American history.

Despite this fact, my own understanding and awareness of the hate and racism experienced by the AAPI community, then and now, would be described as limited at best. Was I aware on some level? Perhaps. But if I’m being honest, I have not fully appreciated the unique experiences of AAPI colleagues, friends, and students.

That changed when I attended a White Coats Against Asian Hate & Racism rally, held by the George Washington University School of Medicine and Health Sciences 2 months after the Atlanta killings. Hearing my colleagues speak of their personal experiences, I quickly realized my lack of education on the subject of how systemic racism has long affected Asian Americans in this country.
 

Measuring the alarming rise in anti-Asian hate

The data supporting a rise in anti-Asian hate crimes have been staring us in the face for decades but have drawn increasing attention since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, when these already distressingly high numbers experienced a steep rise.

Before looking at these figures, though, we must begin by defining what is considered a hate crime versus a hate incident. The National Asian Pacific American Bar Association and Asian & Pacific Islander American Health Forum have produced a beneficial summary document on precisely what separates these terms:

• A hate crime is a crime committed on the basis of the victim’s perceived or actual race, color, religion, national origin, sexual orientation, gender identity, or disability. It differs from “regular” crime in that its victims include the immediate crime target and others like them. Hate crimes affect families, communities, and, at times, an entire nation.
• A hate incident describes acts of prejudice that are not crimes and do not involve violence, threats, or property damage. The most common examples are isolated forms of speech, such as racial slurs.

Stop AAPI Hate (SAH) was founded in March 2020 as a coalition to track and analyze incidents of hate against this community. SAH’s 2020-2021 national report details 3,795 hate incidents that occurred from March 19, 2020, to Feb. 28, 2021. In a notable parallel to the Georgia killings, SAH found that Asian American women reported hate incidents 2.3 times more often than men and that businesses were the primary site of discrimination.

This rise in hate incidents has occurred in parallel with an increase in Asian American hate crimes. Recently, the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism (CSUSB) released its Report to the Nation: Anti-Asian Prejudice & Hate Crime. CSUSB found that anti-Asian hate crimes increased by 164% in the first quarter of 2021. I re-read that data point multiple times, thinking it must be in error. If you’re asking exactly why I was having difficulty accepting this data, you have to appreciate these two critical points:

• Per the CSUSB, anti-Asian hate crimes were already surging by 146% in 2020.
• This surge occurred while overall hate crimes dropped by 7%.

So, if 2020 was a surge, the first quarter of 2021 is a hurricane. What’s perhaps most concerning is that these data only capture reported cases and therefore are a fraction of the total.

Undoubtedly, we are living through an unprecedented rise in anti-Asian hate incidents and hate crimes since the start of the pandemic. This rise in hate-related events paralleled the many pandemic-related stressors (disease, isolation, economics, mental health, etc.). Should anyone have been surprised when this most recent deadly spike of anti-Asian hate occurred in the first quarter of 2021?
 

Hate’s toll on mental health

As a psychiatrist, I’ve spent my entire career working with dedicated teams to treat patients with mental health disorders. Currently, hate is not classified by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders as a mental illness. However, I can’t think of another emotion that is a better candidate for further research and scientific instigation, if for no other reason than to better understand when prejudice and bias transform into hatred and crime.

Surprisingly, there has been relatively little research on the topic of hate in the fields of psychology and psychiatry. I’d be willing to wager that if you asked a typical graduating class of medical students to give you an actual working definition of the emotion of hate, most would be at a loss for words.

Dr. Fischer and Dr. Halperin published a helpful article that gives a functional perspective on hate. The authors cover a great deal of research on hate and offer the following four starting points valuable in considering it:

• “Hate is different from anger because an anger target is appraised as someone whose behavior can be influenced and changed.”
• “A hate target, on the contrary, implies appraisals of the other’s malevolent nature and malicious intent.”
• “Hate is characterized by appraisals that imply a stable perception of a person or group and thus the incapability to change the extremely negative characteristics attributed to the target of hate.”
• “Everyday observations also suggest that hate is so powerful that it does, not just temporarily but permanently, destroy relations between individuals or groups.”

When I view hate with these insights in mind, it completely changes how I choose to utilize the word or concept. Hate is an emotion whose goal/action tendency is to eliminate groups (not just people or obstacles) and destroy any current or future relationships. We can take this a step further in noting that hate spreads, not only to the intended targets but potentially my “own” group. Similar to secondhand smoke, there is no risk-free exposure to hate or racism.

In the past decade, a robust body of evidence has emerged that clearly illustrates the negative health impacts of racism. Dr. Paradies and colleagues performed a systematic meta-analysis explicitly focused on racism as a determinant of health, finding that it was associated with poorer mental health, including depression, anxiety, and psychological distress. Over the past two decades, researchers have increasingly looked at the effects of racial discrimination on the AAPI community. In their 2009 review article, Dr. Gee and colleagues identified 62 empirical articles assessing the relation between discrimination and health among Asian Americans. Most of the studies found that discrimination was associated with poorer health. Of the 40 studies focused on mental health, 37 reported that discrimination was associated with poorer outcomes.

SAH recently released its very illuminating Mental Health Report. Among several key findings, two in particular caught my attention. First, Asian Americans who have experienced racism are more stressed by anti-Asian hate than the pandemic itself. Second, one in five Asian Americans who have experienced racism display racial trauma, the psychological and emotional harm caused by racism. Given the rise in hate crimes, there must be concern regarding the level of trauma being inflicted upon the Asian American community.

A complete review of the health effects of racism is beyond this article’s scope. Still, the previously mentioned studies further support the need to treat racism in general, and specifically anti-Asian hate, as the urgent public health concern that it truly is. The U.S. government recently outlined an action plan to respond to anti-Asian violence, xenophobia, and bias. These are helpful first steps, but much more is required on a societal and individual level, given the mental health disparities faced by the AAPI community.

Determining the best ways to address this urgent public health concern can be overwhelming, exhausting, and outright demoralizing. The bottom line is that if we do nothing, communities and groups will continue to suffer the effects of racial hatred. These consequences are severe and transgenerational.

But we must start somewhere. For me, that begins by gaining a better understanding of the emotion of hate and my role in either facilitating or stopping it, and by listening, listening, and listening some more to AAPI colleagues, friends, and family about their lived experience with anti-Asian hate.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The mental health toll from the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Tower collapse will be felt by our patients for years to come. As mental health professionals in Miami-Dade County, it has been difficult to deal with the catastrophe layered on the escalating COVID-19 crisis.

Courtesy Dr. Cassie Feldman

With each passing day after the June 24 incident, we all learned who the 98 victims were. In session after session, the enormous impact of this unfathomable tragedy unfolded. Some mental health care professionals were directly affected with the loss of family members; some lost patients, and a large number of our patients lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. It was reminiscent of our work during the COVID-19 crisis when we found that we were dealing with the same stressors as those of our patients. As it was said then, we were all in the same storm – just in very different boats.

It was heartening to see how many colleagues rushed to the site of the building where family waiting areas were established. So many professionals wanted to assist that some had to be turned away.

The days right after the collapse were agonizing for all as we waited and hoped for survivors to be found. Search teams from across the United States and from Mexico and Israel – specifically, Israeli Defense Forces personnel with experience conducting operations in the wake of earthquakes in both Haiti and Nepal, took on the dangerous work. When no one was recovered after the first day, hope faded, and after 10 days, the search and rescue efforts turned to search and recovery. We were indeed a county and community in mourning.

According to Lina Haji, PsyD, GIA Miami, in addition to the direct impact of loss, clinicians who engaged in crisis response and bereavement counseling with those affected by the Surfside tragedy were subjected to vicarious trauma. Vicarious trauma, also used interchangeably with secondary trauma, occurs when practitioners absorb and integrate the aspects of the traumatic experience into their own consciousness. Mental health care providers in the Miami area not only experienced the direct effect of this tragedy but have been hearing details and harrowing stories about the unimaginable experiences their patients endured over those critical weeks. Vicarious trauma can result in our own symptoms, compassion fatigue, or burnout as clinicians. This resulted in a call for mental health providers to come to the aid of their fellow colleagues.

So, on the 1-month anniversary of the initial collapse, at the urging of Patricia Stauber, RN, LCSW, a clinician with more than 30 years’ experience in providing grief counseling in hospital and private practice settings; Antonello Bonci, MD, the founder of GIA Miami; Charlotte Tomic, director of public relations for the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism; and I cohosted what we hope will be several Mental Health Appreciation retreats. Our goal was to create a space to focus on healing the healers. We had hoped to hold an in-person event, but at the last moment we opted for a Zoom-based event because COVID-19 cases were rising rapidly again.

Working on the front lines

Cassie Feldman, PsyD, a licensed clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with grief, loss, end of life, and responding to trauma-related consults, reflected on her experience responding to the collapse in the earliest days – first independently at the request of community religious leaders and then as part of CADENA Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescue, humanitarian aid, and disaster response and prevention worldwide.

Dr. Feldman worked alongside other mental health professionals, local Miami-Dade police and fire officials, and the domestic and international rescue teams (CADENA’s Go Team from Mexico and the Israeli Defense Force’s Search and Rescue Delegation), providing Psychological First Aid, crisis intervention, and disaster response to the victims’ families and survivors.

This initially was a 24-hour coverage effort, requiring Dr. Feldman and her colleagues to clear their schedules, and at times to work 18-hour shifts in the early days of the crisis to address the need for consistency and continuity. Their commitment was to show up for the victims’ families and survivors, fully embracing the chaos and the demands of the situation. She noted that the disaster brought out the best of her and her colleagues.

They divided and conquered the work, alongside clinicians from Jewish Community Services and Project Chai intervening acutely where possible, and coordinating long-term care plans for those survivors and members of the victims’ support networks in need of consistent care.

Dr. Feldman reflected on the notion that we have all been processing losses prior to this – loss of normalcy because of the pandemic, loss of people we loved as a result, other personal losses – and that this community tragedy is yet another loss to disentangle. It didn’t feel good or natural for her to passively absorb the news knowing she had both the skill set and capacity to take on an active supportive role. The first days at the community center were disorganized; it was hard to know who was who and what was what. She described parents crying out for their children and children longing for their parents. Individuals were so overcome with emotion that they grew faint. Friends and families flooded in but were unaware of how to be fully supportive. The level of trauma was so high that the only interventions that were absorbed were those that were nonverbal or that fully addressed practical needs. People were frightened and in a state of shock.

Day by day, more order ensued and the efforts became more coordinated, but it became apparent to her that the “family reunification center” was devoid of reunification. She and her colleagues’ primary role became aiding the police department in making death notifications to the families and being supportive of the victims’ families and their loved ones during and in between the formal briefings, where so many concerned family members and friends gathered and waited.

“As the days went on, things became more structured and predictable,” Dr. Feldman noted. “We continued to connect with the victims’ families and survivors, [listened to] their stories, shared meals with them, spent downtime with them, began to intimately know their loved ones, and all the barriers they were now facing. We became invested in them, their unique intricacies, and to care deeply for them like our own families and loved ones. Small talk and conversation morphed into silent embraces where spoken words weren’t necessary.”

Dr. Feldman said some of her earliest memories were visiting ICU patients alongside her father, a critical care and ICU physician. Her father taught her that nonverbal communication and connection can be offered to patients in the most poignant moments of suffering.

Her “nascent experiences in the ICU,” she said, taught her that “the most useful of interventions was just being with people in their pain and bearing witness at times when there were just no words.”

Dr. Feldman said that when many of her colleagues learned about the switch from rescue to recovery, the pull was to jump in their cars and drive to the hotel where the families were based to offer support.

The unity she witnessed – from the disparate clinicians who were virtual strangers before the incident but a team afterward, from the families and the community, and from the first responders and rescue teams – was inspiring, Dr. Feldman said.

“We were all forced to think beyond ourselves, push ourselves past our limits, and unify in a way that remedied this period in history of deep fragmentation,” she said.
 

Understanding the role of psychoneuroimmunology

In another presentation during the Zoom event, Ms. Stauber offered her insights about the importance of support among mental health clinicians.

She cited research on women with HIV showing that those who are part of a support group had a stronger immune response than those who were not.

Ms. Stauber said the impact of COVID-19 and its ramifications – including fear, grief over losing loved ones, isolation from friends and family, and interference/cessation of normal routines – has put an enormous strain on clinicians and clients. One of her clients had to take her mother to the emergency room – never to see her again. She continues to ask: “If I’d been there, could I have saved her?”

Another client whose husband died of COVID-19–related illness agonizes over not being able to be at her husband’s side, not being able to hold his hand, not being able to say goodbye.

She said other cultures are more accepting of suffering as a condition of life and the acknowledgment that our time on earth is limited.

The “quick fix for everything” society carries over to people’s grief, said Ms. Stauber. As a result, many find it difficult to appreciate how much time it takes to heal.

Normal uncomplicated grief can take approximately 2-3 years, she said. By then, the shock has been wearing off, the emotional roller coaster of loss is calming down, coping skills are strengthened, and life can once again be more fulfilling or meaningful. Complicated grief or grief with trauma takes much longer, said Ms. Stauber, who is a consultant with a national crisis and debriefing company providing trauma and bereavement support to Fortune 500 companies.

Trauma adds another complexity to loss. To begin to appreciate the rough road ahead, Ms. Stauber said, it is important to understand the basic challenges facing grieving people.

“This is where our profession may be needed; we are providing support for those suffering the immense pain of loss in a world that often has difficulty being present or patient with loss,” she said. “We are indeed providing an emotional life raft.”

Ultimately, self-care is critical, Ms. Stauber said. “Consider self-care a job requirement” to be successful. She also offered the following tips for self-care:

1. Share your own loss experience with a caring and nonjudgmental person.

2. Consider ongoing supervision and consultation with colleagues who understand the nature of your work.

3. Be willing to ask for help.

4. Be aware of risks and countertransference in our work.

5. Attend workshops.

6. Remember that you do not have to and cannot do it all by yourself – we absolutely need more grief and trauma trained therapists.

7. Involve yourself in activities outside of work that feed your soul and nourish your spirit.

8. Schedule play.

9. Develop a healthy self-care regimen to remain present doing this work.

10. Consider the benefits of exercise.

11. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of nature.

12. Consider yoga, meditation, spa retreats – such as Kripalu, Miraval, and Canyon Ranch.

13. Spend time with loving family and friends.

14. Adopt a pet.

15. Eat healthy foods; get plenty of rest.

16. Walk in the rain.

17. Listen to music.

18. Enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.

19. Sing, dance, and enjoy the blessings of this life.

20. Love yourself; you truly can be your own best friend.

To advocate on behalf of mental health for patients, we must do the same for mental health professionals. The retreat was well received, and we learned a lot from our speakers. After the program, we offered a 45-minute yoga class and then 30-minute sound bowl meditation. We plan to repeat the event in September to help our community deal with the ongoing stress of such overwhelming loss.

While our community will never be the same, we hope that, by coming together, we can all find a way to support one another and strive to help ourselves and others manage as we navigate yet another unprecedented crisis.
 

Dr. Ritvo, who has more than 30 years’ experience in psychiatry, practices telemedicine. She is author of “BeKindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Momosa Publishing, 2018). Dr. Ritvo has no disclosures.

The mental health toll from the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Tower collapse will be felt by our patients for years to come. As mental health professionals in Miami-Dade County, it has been difficult to deal with the catastrophe layered on the escalating COVID-19 crisis.

Courtesy Dr. Cassie Feldman

With each passing day after the June 24 incident, we all learned who the 98 victims were. In session after session, the enormous impact of this unfathomable tragedy unfolded. Some mental health care professionals were directly affected with the loss of family members; some lost patients, and a large number of our patients lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. It was reminiscent of our work during the COVID-19 crisis when we found that we were dealing with the same stressors as those of our patients. As it was said then, we were all in the same storm – just in very different boats.

It was heartening to see how many colleagues rushed to the site of the building where family waiting areas were established. So many professionals wanted to assist that some had to be turned away.

The days right after the collapse were agonizing for all as we waited and hoped for survivors to be found. Search teams from across the United States and from Mexico and Israel – specifically, Israeli Defense Forces personnel with experience conducting operations in the wake of earthquakes in both Haiti and Nepal, took on the dangerous work. When no one was recovered after the first day, hope faded, and after 10 days, the search and rescue efforts turned to search and recovery. We were indeed a county and community in mourning.

According to Lina Haji, PsyD, GIA Miami, in addition to the direct impact of loss, clinicians who engaged in crisis response and bereavement counseling with those affected by the Surfside tragedy were subjected to vicarious trauma. Vicarious trauma, also used interchangeably with secondary trauma, occurs when practitioners absorb and integrate the aspects of the traumatic experience into their own consciousness. Mental health care providers in the Miami area not only experienced the direct effect of this tragedy but have been hearing details and harrowing stories about the unimaginable experiences their patients endured over those critical weeks. Vicarious trauma can result in our own symptoms, compassion fatigue, or burnout as clinicians. This resulted in a call for mental health providers to come to the aid of their fellow colleagues.

So, on the 1-month anniversary of the initial collapse, at the urging of Patricia Stauber, RN, LCSW, a clinician with more than 30 years’ experience in providing grief counseling in hospital and private practice settings; Antonello Bonci, MD, the founder of GIA Miami; Charlotte Tomic, director of public relations for the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism; and I cohosted what we hope will be several Mental Health Appreciation retreats. Our goal was to create a space to focus on healing the healers. We had hoped to hold an in-person event, but at the last moment we opted for a Zoom-based event because COVID-19 cases were rising rapidly again.

Working on the front lines

Cassie Feldman, PsyD, a licensed clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with grief, loss, end of life, and responding to trauma-related consults, reflected on her experience responding to the collapse in the earliest days – first independently at the request of community religious leaders and then as part of CADENA Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescue, humanitarian aid, and disaster response and prevention worldwide.

Dr. Feldman worked alongside other mental health professionals, local Miami-Dade police and fire officials, and the domestic and international rescue teams (CADENA’s Go Team from Mexico and the Israeli Defense Force’s Search and Rescue Delegation), providing Psychological First Aid, crisis intervention, and disaster response to the victims’ families and survivors.

This initially was a 24-hour coverage effort, requiring Dr. Feldman and her colleagues to clear their schedules, and at times to work 18-hour shifts in the early days of the crisis to address the need for consistency and continuity. Their commitment was to show up for the victims’ families and survivors, fully embracing the chaos and the demands of the situation. She noted that the disaster brought out the best of her and her colleagues.

They divided and conquered the work, alongside clinicians from Jewish Community Services and Project Chai intervening acutely where possible, and coordinating long-term care plans for those survivors and members of the victims’ support networks in need of consistent care.

Dr. Feldman reflected on the notion that we have all been processing losses prior to this – loss of normalcy because of the pandemic, loss of people we loved as a result, other personal losses – and that this community tragedy is yet another loss to disentangle. It didn’t feel good or natural for her to passively absorb the news knowing she had both the skill set and capacity to take on an active supportive role. The first days at the community center were disorganized; it was hard to know who was who and what was what. She described parents crying out for their children and children longing for their parents. Individuals were so overcome with emotion that they grew faint. Friends and families flooded in but were unaware of how to be fully supportive. The level of trauma was so high that the only interventions that were absorbed were those that were nonverbal or that fully addressed practical needs. People were frightened and in a state of shock.

Day by day, more order ensued and the efforts became more coordinated, but it became apparent to her that the “family reunification center” was devoid of reunification. She and her colleagues’ primary role became aiding the police department in making death notifications to the families and being supportive of the victims’ families and their loved ones during and in between the formal briefings, where so many concerned family members and friends gathered and waited.

“As the days went on, things became more structured and predictable,” Dr. Feldman noted. “We continued to connect with the victims’ families and survivors, [listened to] their stories, shared meals with them, spent downtime with them, began to intimately know their loved ones, and all the barriers they were now facing. We became invested in them, their unique intricacies, and to care deeply for them like our own families and loved ones. Small talk and conversation morphed into silent embraces where spoken words weren’t necessary.”

Dr. Feldman said some of her earliest memories were visiting ICU patients alongside her father, a critical care and ICU physician. Her father taught her that nonverbal communication and connection can be offered to patients in the most poignant moments of suffering.

Her “nascent experiences in the ICU,” she said, taught her that “the most useful of interventions was just being with people in their pain and bearing witness at times when there were just no words.”

Dr. Feldman said that when many of her colleagues learned about the switch from rescue to recovery, the pull was to jump in their cars and drive to the hotel where the families were based to offer support.

The unity she witnessed – from the disparate clinicians who were virtual strangers before the incident but a team afterward, from the families and the community, and from the first responders and rescue teams – was inspiring, Dr. Feldman said.

“We were all forced to think beyond ourselves, push ourselves past our limits, and unify in a way that remedied this period in history of deep fragmentation,” she said.
 

Understanding the role of psychoneuroimmunology

In another presentation during the Zoom event, Ms. Stauber offered her insights about the importance of support among mental health clinicians.

She cited research on women with HIV showing that those who are part of a support group had a stronger immune response than those who were not.

Ms. Stauber said the impact of COVID-19 and its ramifications – including fear, grief over losing loved ones, isolation from friends and family, and interference/cessation of normal routines – has put an enormous strain on clinicians and clients. One of her clients had to take her mother to the emergency room – never to see her again. She continues to ask: “If I’d been there, could I have saved her?”

Another client whose husband died of COVID-19–related illness agonizes over not being able to be at her husband’s side, not being able to hold his hand, not being able to say goodbye.

She said other cultures are more accepting of suffering as a condition of life and the acknowledgment that our time on earth is limited.

The “quick fix for everything” society carries over to people’s grief, said Ms. Stauber. As a result, many find it difficult to appreciate how much time it takes to heal.

Normal uncomplicated grief can take approximately 2-3 years, she said. By then, the shock has been wearing off, the emotional roller coaster of loss is calming down, coping skills are strengthened, and life can once again be more fulfilling or meaningful. Complicated grief or grief with trauma takes much longer, said Ms. Stauber, who is a consultant with a national crisis and debriefing company providing trauma and bereavement support to Fortune 500 companies.

Trauma adds another complexity to loss. To begin to appreciate the rough road ahead, Ms. Stauber said, it is important to understand the basic challenges facing grieving people.

“This is where our profession may be needed; we are providing support for those suffering the immense pain of loss in a world that often has difficulty being present or patient with loss,” she said. “We are indeed providing an emotional life raft.”

Ultimately, self-care is critical, Ms. Stauber said. “Consider self-care a job requirement” to be successful. She also offered the following tips for self-care:

1. Share your own loss experience with a caring and nonjudgmental person.

2. Consider ongoing supervision and consultation with colleagues who understand the nature of your work.

3. Be willing to ask for help.

4. Be aware of risks and countertransference in our work.

5. Attend workshops.

6. Remember that you do not have to and cannot do it all by yourself – we absolutely need more grief and trauma trained therapists.

7. Involve yourself in activities outside of work that feed your soul and nourish your spirit.

8. Schedule play.

9. Develop a healthy self-care regimen to remain present doing this work.

10. Consider the benefits of exercise.

11. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of nature.

12. Consider yoga, meditation, spa retreats – such as Kripalu, Miraval, and Canyon Ranch.

13. Spend time with loving family and friends.

14. Adopt a pet.

15. Eat healthy foods; get plenty of rest.

16. Walk in the rain.

17. Listen to music.

18. Enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.

19. Sing, dance, and enjoy the blessings of this life.

20. Love yourself; you truly can be your own best friend.

To advocate on behalf of mental health for patients, we must do the same for mental health professionals. The retreat was well received, and we learned a lot from our speakers. After the program, we offered a 45-minute yoga class and then 30-minute sound bowl meditation. We plan to repeat the event in September to help our community deal with the ongoing stress of such overwhelming loss.

While our community will never be the same, we hope that, by coming together, we can all find a way to support one another and strive to help ourselves and others manage as we navigate yet another unprecedented crisis.
 

Dr. Ritvo, who has more than 30 years’ experience in psychiatry, practices telemedicine. She is author of “BeKindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Momosa Publishing, 2018). Dr. Ritvo has no disclosures.

The mental health toll from the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Tower collapse will be felt by our patients for years to come. As mental health professionals in Miami-Dade County, it has been difficult to deal with the catastrophe layered on the escalating COVID-19 crisis.

Courtesy Dr. Cassie Feldman

With each passing day after the June 24 incident, we all learned who the 98 victims were. In session after session, the enormous impact of this unfathomable tragedy unfolded. Some mental health care professionals were directly affected with the loss of family members; some lost patients, and a large number of our patients lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. It was reminiscent of our work during the COVID-19 crisis when we found that we were dealing with the same stressors as those of our patients. As it was said then, we were all in the same storm – just in very different boats.

It was heartening to see how many colleagues rushed to the site of the building where family waiting areas were established. So many professionals wanted to assist that some had to be turned away.

The days right after the collapse were agonizing for all as we waited and hoped for survivors to be found. Search teams from across the United States and from Mexico and Israel – specifically, Israeli Defense Forces personnel with experience conducting operations in the wake of earthquakes in both Haiti and Nepal, took on the dangerous work. When no one was recovered after the first day, hope faded, and after 10 days, the search and rescue efforts turned to search and recovery. We were indeed a county and community in mourning.

According to Lina Haji, PsyD, GIA Miami, in addition to the direct impact of loss, clinicians who engaged in crisis response and bereavement counseling with those affected by the Surfside tragedy were subjected to vicarious trauma. Vicarious trauma, also used interchangeably with secondary trauma, occurs when practitioners absorb and integrate the aspects of the traumatic experience into their own consciousness. Mental health care providers in the Miami area not only experienced the direct effect of this tragedy but have been hearing details and harrowing stories about the unimaginable experiences their patients endured over those critical weeks. Vicarious trauma can result in our own symptoms, compassion fatigue, or burnout as clinicians. This resulted in a call for mental health providers to come to the aid of their fellow colleagues.

So, on the 1-month anniversary of the initial collapse, at the urging of Patricia Stauber, RN, LCSW, a clinician with more than 30 years’ experience in providing grief counseling in hospital and private practice settings; Antonello Bonci, MD, the founder of GIA Miami; Charlotte Tomic, director of public relations for the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism; and I cohosted what we hope will be several Mental Health Appreciation retreats. Our goal was to create a space to focus on healing the healers. We had hoped to hold an in-person event, but at the last moment we opted for a Zoom-based event because COVID-19 cases were rising rapidly again.

Working on the front lines

Cassie Feldman, PsyD, a licensed clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with grief, loss, end of life, and responding to trauma-related consults, reflected on her experience responding to the collapse in the earliest days – first independently at the request of community religious leaders and then as part of CADENA Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescue, humanitarian aid, and disaster response and prevention worldwide.

Dr. Feldman worked alongside other mental health professionals, local Miami-Dade police and fire officials, and the domestic and international rescue teams (CADENA’s Go Team from Mexico and the Israeli Defense Force’s Search and Rescue Delegation), providing Psychological First Aid, crisis intervention, and disaster response to the victims’ families and survivors.

This initially was a 24-hour coverage effort, requiring Dr. Feldman and her colleagues to clear their schedules, and at times to work 18-hour shifts in the early days of the crisis to address the need for consistency and continuity. Their commitment was to show up for the victims’ families and survivors, fully embracing the chaos and the demands of the situation. She noted that the disaster brought out the best of her and her colleagues.

They divided and conquered the work, alongside clinicians from Jewish Community Services and Project Chai intervening acutely where possible, and coordinating long-term care plans for those survivors and members of the victims’ support networks in need of consistent care.

Dr. Feldman reflected on the notion that we have all been processing losses prior to this – loss of normalcy because of the pandemic, loss of people we loved as a result, other personal losses – and that this community tragedy is yet another loss to disentangle. It didn’t feel good or natural for her to passively absorb the news knowing she had both the skill set and capacity to take on an active supportive role. The first days at the community center were disorganized; it was hard to know who was who and what was what. She described parents crying out for their children and children longing for their parents. Individuals were so overcome with emotion that they grew faint. Friends and families flooded in but were unaware of how to be fully supportive. The level of trauma was so high that the only interventions that were absorbed were those that were nonverbal or that fully addressed practical needs. People were frightened and in a state of shock.

Day by day, more order ensued and the efforts became more coordinated, but it became apparent to her that the “family reunification center” was devoid of reunification. She and her colleagues’ primary role became aiding the police department in making death notifications to the families and being supportive of the victims’ families and their loved ones during and in between the formal briefings, where so many concerned family members and friends gathered and waited.

“As the days went on, things became more structured and predictable,” Dr. Feldman noted. “We continued to connect with the victims’ families and survivors, [listened to] their stories, shared meals with them, spent downtime with them, began to intimately know their loved ones, and all the barriers they were now facing. We became invested in them, their unique intricacies, and to care deeply for them like our own families and loved ones. Small talk and conversation morphed into silent embraces where spoken words weren’t necessary.”

Dr. Feldman said some of her earliest memories were visiting ICU patients alongside her father, a critical care and ICU physician. Her father taught her that nonverbal communication and connection can be offered to patients in the most poignant moments of suffering.

Her “nascent experiences in the ICU,” she said, taught her that “the most useful of interventions was just being with people in their pain and bearing witness at times when there were just no words.”

Dr. Feldman said that when many of her colleagues learned about the switch from rescue to recovery, the pull was to jump in their cars and drive to the hotel where the families were based to offer support.

The unity she witnessed – from the disparate clinicians who were virtual strangers before the incident but a team afterward, from the families and the community, and from the first responders and rescue teams – was inspiring, Dr. Feldman said.

“We were all forced to think beyond ourselves, push ourselves past our limits, and unify in a way that remedied this period in history of deep fragmentation,” she said.
 

Understanding the role of psychoneuroimmunology

In another presentation during the Zoom event, Ms. Stauber offered her insights about the importance of support among mental health clinicians.

She cited research on women with HIV showing that those who are part of a support group had a stronger immune response than those who were not.

Ms. Stauber said the impact of COVID-19 and its ramifications – including fear, grief over losing loved ones, isolation from friends and family, and interference/cessation of normal routines – has put an enormous strain on clinicians and clients. One of her clients had to take her mother to the emergency room – never to see her again. She continues to ask: “If I’d been there, could I have saved her?”

Another client whose husband died of COVID-19–related illness agonizes over not being able to be at her husband’s side, not being able to hold his hand, not being able to say goodbye.

She said other cultures are more accepting of suffering as a condition of life and the acknowledgment that our time on earth is limited.

The “quick fix for everything” society carries over to people’s grief, said Ms. Stauber. As a result, many find it difficult to appreciate how much time it takes to heal.

Normal uncomplicated grief can take approximately 2-3 years, she said. By then, the shock has been wearing off, the emotional roller coaster of loss is calming down, coping skills are strengthened, and life can once again be more fulfilling or meaningful. Complicated grief or grief with trauma takes much longer, said Ms. Stauber, who is a consultant with a national crisis and debriefing company providing trauma and bereavement support to Fortune 500 companies.

Trauma adds another complexity to loss. To begin to appreciate the rough road ahead, Ms. Stauber said, it is important to understand the basic challenges facing grieving people.

“This is where our profession may be needed; we are providing support for those suffering the immense pain of loss in a world that often has difficulty being present or patient with loss,” she said. “We are indeed providing an emotional life raft.”

Ultimately, self-care is critical, Ms. Stauber said. “Consider self-care a job requirement” to be successful. She also offered the following tips for self-care:

1. Share your own loss experience with a caring and nonjudgmental person.

2. Consider ongoing supervision and consultation with colleagues who understand the nature of your work.

3. Be willing to ask for help.

4. Be aware of risks and countertransference in our work.

5. Attend workshops.

6. Remember that you do not have to and cannot do it all by yourself – we absolutely need more grief and trauma trained therapists.

7. Involve yourself in activities outside of work that feed your soul and nourish your spirit.

8. Schedule play.

9. Develop a healthy self-care regimen to remain present doing this work.

10. Consider the benefits of exercise.

11. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of nature.

12. Consider yoga, meditation, spa retreats – such as Kripalu, Miraval, and Canyon Ranch.

13. Spend time with loving family and friends.

14. Adopt a pet.

15. Eat healthy foods; get plenty of rest.

16. Walk in the rain.

17. Listen to music.

18. Enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.

19. Sing, dance, and enjoy the blessings of this life.

20. Love yourself; you truly can be your own best friend.

To advocate on behalf of mental health for patients, we must do the same for mental health professionals. The retreat was well received, and we learned a lot from our speakers. After the program, we offered a 45-minute yoga class and then 30-minute sound bowl meditation. We plan to repeat the event in September to help our community deal with the ongoing stress of such overwhelming loss.

While our community will never be the same, we hope that, by coming together, we can all find a way to support one another and strive to help ourselves and others manage as we navigate yet another unprecedented crisis.
 

Dr. Ritvo, who has more than 30 years’ experience in psychiatry, practices telemedicine. She is author of “BeKindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Momosa Publishing, 2018). Dr. Ritvo has no disclosures.

CASE Anxious and can’t sleep

Mr. A, age 41, presents to his primary care physician (PCP) with anxiety and insomnia. He describes having generalized anxiety with initial and middle insomnia, and says he is sleeping an average of 2 hours per night. He denies any other psychiatric symptoms. Mr. A has no significant psychiatric or medical history.

Mr. A is initiated on zolpidem tartrate, 12.5 mg every night at bedtime, and paroxetine, 20 mg every night at bedtime, for anxiety and insomnia, but these medications result in little to no improvement.

During a 4-month period, he is treated with trials of alprazolam, 0.5 mg every 8 hours as needed; diazepam 5 mg twice a day as needed; diphenhydramine, 50 mg at bedtime; and eszopiclone, 3 mg at bedtime. Despite these treatments, he experiences increased anxiety and insomnia, and develops depressive symptoms, including depressed mood, poor concentration, general malaise, extreme fatigue, a 15-pound unintentional weight loss, erectile dysfunction, and decreased libido. Mr. A denies having suicidal or homicidal ideations. Additionally, he typically goes to the gym approximately 3 times per week, and has noticed that the amount of weight he is able to lift has decreased, which is distressing. Previously, he had been able to lift 300 pounds, but now he can only lift 200 pounds. 

[polldaddy:10891920]

The authors’ observations

Insomnia, anxiety, and depression are common chief complaints in medical settings. However, some psychiatric presentations may have an underlying medical etiology. 

DSM-5 requires that medical conditions be ruled out in order for a patient to meet criteria for a psychiatric diagnosis.¹ Medical differential diagnoses for patients with psychiatric symptoms can include autoimmune, drug/toxin, metabolic, infectious, neoplastic, neurologic, and nutritional etiologies (Table 1²). To rule out the possibility of an underlying medical etiology, general screening guidelines include complete blood count, complete metabolic panel, urinalysis, and urine drug screen with alcohol. Human immunodeficiency virus testing and thyroid hormone testing are also commonly ordered.³ Further laboratory testing and imaging is typically not warranted in the absence of historical or physical findings because they are not advocated as cost-effective, so health care professionals must use their clinical judgment to determine appropriate further evaluation. The onset of anxiety most commonly occurs in late adolescence early and adulthood, but Mr. A experienced his first symptoms of anxiety at age 41.² Mr. A’s age, lack of psychiatric or family history of mental illness, acute onset of symptoms, and failure of symptoms to abate with standard psychiatric treatments warrant a more extensive workup.

EVALUATION Imaging reveals an important finding

Because Mr. A’s symptoms do not improve with standard psychiatric treatments, his PCP orders standard laboratory bloodwork to investigate a possible medical etiology; however, his results are all within normal range.

After the PCP’s niece is coincidentally diagnosed with a pituitary macroadenoma, the PCP orders brain imaging for Mr. A. Results of an MRI show that Mr. A has a 1.6-cm macro­adenoma of the pituitary. He is referred to an endocrinologist, who orders additional laboratory tests that show an elevated 24-hour free urine cortisol level of 73 μg/24 h (normal range: 3.5 to 45 μg/24 h), suggesting that Mr. A’s anxiety may be due to Cushing’s disease or that his anxiety caused falsely elevated urinary cortisol levels. Four weeks later, bloodwork is repeated and shows an abnormal dexamethasone suppression test, and 2 more elevated 24-hour free urine cortisol levels of 76 μg/24 h and 150 μg/24 h. A repeat MRI shows a 1.8-cm, mostly cystic sellar mass, indicating the need for surgical intervention. Although the tumor is large and shows optic nerve compression, Mr. A does not complain of headaches or changes in vision.

Continue to: Two months later...

Two months later, Mr. A undergoes a transsphenoidal tumor resection of the pituitary adenoma, and biopsy results confirm an adrenocorticotropic hormone (ACTH)-secreting pituitary macroadenoma, which is consistent with Cushing’s disease. Following surgery, steroid treatment with dexamethasone is discontinued due to a persistently elevated am cortisol level. After the surgery, Mr. A takes a leave of absence from work.

[polldaddy:10891923]

The authors’ observations

Chronic excess glucocorticoid production is the underlying pathophysiology of Cushing’s disease, which is most commonly caused by an ACTH-producing adenoma.^4,5 When these hormones become dysregulated, the result can be over- or underproduction of cortisol, which can lead to physical and psychiatric manifestations.⁶ 

Cushing’s disease most commonly manifests with the physical symptoms of centripetal fat deposition, abdominal striae, facial plethora, muscle atrophy, bone density loss, immunosuppression, and cardiovascular complications.⁵ 

Hypercortisolism can precipitate anxiety (12% to 79%), mood disorders (50% to 70%), and (less commonly) psychotic disorders; however, in a clinical setting, if a patient presented with one of these as a chief complaint, they would likely first be treated psychiatrically rather than worked up medically for a rare medical condition.^5,7-13 

Mr. A’s initial bloodwork was unremarkable, but cortisol levels were not obtained at that time because testing for cortisol levels to rule out an underlying medical condition is not routine in patients with depression and anxiety. In Mr. A’s case, a neuroendocrine workup was only ordered once his PCP’s niece coincidentally was diagnosed with a pituitary adenoma. 

Continue to: For Mr. A...

For Mr. A, Cushing’s disease presented as a psychiatric disorder with anxiety and insomnia that were resistant to numerous psychiatric medications during an 8-month period. If Mr. A’s PCP had not ordered a brain MRI, he may have continued to receive ineffective psychiatric treatment for some time. Many of Mr. A’s physical symptoms were consistent with Cushing’s disease and mental illness, including erectile dysfunction, fatigue, and muscle weakness; however, his 15-pound weight loss pointed more toward psychiatric illness and further disguised his underlying medical diagnosis, because sudden weight gain is commonly seen in Cushing’s disease (Table 2^4,5,7,9).

TREATMENT Persistent psychiatric symptoms, then finally relief

Four weeks after surgery, Mr. A’s psychiatric symptoms gradually intensify, which prompts him to see a psychiatrist. A mental status examination (MSE) shows that he is well-nourished, with normal activity, appropriate behavior, and coherent thought process, but depressed mood and flat affect. He denies suicidal or homicidal ideation. He reports that despite being advised to have realistic expectations, he had high hopes that the surgery would lead to remission of all his symptoms, and expresses disappointment that he does not feel “back to normal.”

Six days later, Mr. A’s wife takes him to the hospital. His MSE shows that he has a tense appearance, fidgety activity, depressed and anxious mood, restricted affect, circumstantial thought process, and paranoid delusions that his wife was plotting against him. He says he still is experiencing insomnia. He also discloses having suicidal ideations with a plan and intent to overdose on medication, as well as homicidal ideations about killing his wife and children. Mr. A provides reasons for why he would want to hurt his family, and does not appear to be bothered by these thoughts.

Mr. A is admitted to the inpatient psychiatric unit and is prescribed quetiapine, 100 mg every night at bedtime. During the next 2 days, quetiapine is titrated to 300 mg every night at bedtime. On hospital Day 3, Mr. A says he is feeling worse than the previous days. He is still having vague suicidal thoughts and feels agitated, guilty, and depressed. To treat these persistent symptoms, quetiapine is further increased to 400 mg every night at bedtime, and he is initiated on bupropion XL, 150 mg, to treat persistent symptoms.

After 1 week of hospitalization, the treatment team meets with Mr. A and his wife, who has been supportive throughout her husband’s hospitalization. During the meeting, they both agree that Mr. A has experienced some improvement because he is no longer having suicidal or homicidal thoughts, but he is still feeling depressed and frustrated by his continued insomnia. Following the meeting, Mr. A’s quetiapine is further increased to 450 mg every night at bedtime to address continued insomnia, and bupropion XL is increased to 300 mg/d to address continued depressive symptoms. During the next few days, his affective symptoms improve; however, his initial insomnia continues, and quetiapine is further increased to 500 mg every night at bedtime.

Continue to: On hospital Day 20...

On hospital Day 20, Mr. A is discharged back to his outpatient psychiatrist and receives quetiapine, 500 mg every night at bedtime, and bupropion XL, 300 mg/d. Although Mr. A’s depression and anxiety continue to be well controlled, his insomnia persists. Sleep hygiene is addressed, and alprazolam, 0.5 mg every night at bedtime, is added to his regimen, which proves to be effective. 

OUTCOME A slow remission

After a year of treatment, Mr. A is slowly tapered off of all medications. Two years later, he is in complete remission of all psychiatric symptoms and no longer requires any psychotropic medications.

The authors’ observations

Treatment for hypercortisolism in patients with psychiatric symptoms triggered by glucocorticoid imbalance has typically resulted in a decrease in the severity of their psychiatric symptoms.^9,11 A prospective longitudinal study examining 33 patients found that correction of hypercortisolism in patients with Cushing’s syndrome often led to resolution of their psychiatric symptoms, with 87.9% of patients back to baseline within 1 year.¹⁴ However, to our knowledge, few reports have described the management of patients whose symptoms are resistant to treatment of hypercortisolism.

In our case, after transsphenoidal resection of an adenoma, Mr. A became suicidal and paranoid, and his anxiety and insomnia also persisted. A possible explanation for the worsening of Mr. A’s symptoms after surgery could be the slow recovery of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis and therefore a temporary deficiency in glucocorticoid, which caused an increase in catecholamines, leading to an increase in stress.¹⁴ This concept of a “slow recovery” is supported by the fact that Mr. A was successfully weaned off all medication after 1 year of treatment, and achieved complete remission of psychiatric symptoms for >2 years. Furthermore, the severity of Mr. A’s symptoms appeared to correlate with his 24-hour urine cortisol and am cortisol levels, which is also supported by the findings of Starkman et al.¹⁵ Mr. A’s psychiatric symptoms were most severe when his am cortisol levels peaked after his surgical resection, and his symptoms improved as his cortisol levels returned to normal. In the interim, while his psychiatric symptoms were exacerbated by the persistence of elevated cortisol levels, Mr. A was admitted psychiatrically and treated with psychotropic medications. Once his cortisol levels normalized and his psychiatric symptoms were well controlled with quetiapine, alprazolam, and bupropion for 1 year, he was titrated off all medications.

Future research should evaluate the utility of screening all patients with treatment-resistant anxiety and/or insomnia for hypercortisolism. Even without other clues to endocrinopathies, serum cortisol levels can be used as a screening tool for diagnosing underlying medical causes in patients with anxiety and depression.² A greater understanding of the relationship between medical and psychiatric manifestations will allow clinicians to better care for patients. Further research is needed to elucidate the quantitative relationship between cortisol levels and anxiety to evaluate severity, guide treatment planning, and follow treatment response for patients with anxiety. It may be useful to determine the threshold between elevated cortisol levels due to anxiety vs elevated cortisol due to an underlying medical pathology such as Cushing’s disease. Additionally, little research has been conducted to compare how psychiatric symptoms respond to pituitary macroadenoma resection alone, pharmaceutical intervention alone, or a combination of these approaches. It would be beneficial to evaluate these treatment strategies to elucidate the most effective method to reduce psychiatric symptoms in patients with hypercortisolism, and perhaps to reduce the incidence of post-resection worsening of psychiatric symptoms. 

Continue to: This case was challenging...

This case was challenging because Mr. A did not initially respond to psychiatric intervention, his psychiatric symptoms worsened after transsphenoidal resection of the pituitary adenoma, and his symptoms were alleviated only after psychiatric medications were re-initiated following surgery. This case highlights the importance of considering an underlying medically diagnosable and treatable cause of psychiatric illness, and illustrates the complex ongoing management that may be necessary to help a patient with this condition achieve their baseline. Further, Mr. A’s case shows that the absence of response to standard psychiatric therapies should warrant earlier laboratory and/or imaging evaluation prior to or in conjunction with psychiatric referral. Additionally, testing for cortisol levels is not typically done for a patient with treatment-resistant anxiety, and this case highlights the importance of considering hypercortisolism in such circumstances. 

Bottom Line

Consider testing cortisol levels in patients with treatment-resistant anxiety and insomnia, because cortisol plays a role in Cushing’s disease and anxiety. The severity of psychiatric manifestations of Cushing’s disease may correlate with cortisol levels. Treatment should focus on symptomatic management and underlying etiology.

Related Resources

• Roberts LW, Hales RE, Yudofsky SC, ed. The American Psychiatric Association Publishing Textbook of Psychiatry. 7th ed. American Psychiatric Association Publishing; 2019.
• Rotham J. Cushing’s syndrome: a tale of frequent misdiagnosis. National Center for Health Research. 2020. www.center4research.org/cushings-syndrome-frequent-misdiagnosis/
• Middleman D. Psychiatric issues of Cushing’s patients: coping with Cushing’s. Cushing’s Support and Research Foundation. www.csrf.net/coping-with-cushings/psychiatric-issues-of-cushings-patients/

Drug Brand Names

Alprazolam • Xanax
Bupropion • Wellbutrin
Dexamethasone • Decadron
Diazepam • Valium
Eszopiclone • Lunesta
Paroxetine • Paxil
Quetiapine • Seroquel
Zolpidem tartrate • Ambien CR

CASE Anxious and can’t sleep

Mr. A, age 41, presents to his primary care physician (PCP) with anxiety and insomnia. He describes having generalized anxiety with initial and middle insomnia, and says he is sleeping an average of 2 hours per night. He denies any other psychiatric symptoms. Mr. A has no significant psychiatric or medical history.

Mr. A is initiated on zolpidem tartrate, 12.5 mg every night at bedtime, and paroxetine, 20 mg every night at bedtime, for anxiety and insomnia, but these medications result in little to no improvement.

During a 4-month period, he is treated with trials of alprazolam, 0.5 mg every 8 hours as needed; diazepam 5 mg twice a day as needed; diphenhydramine, 50 mg at bedtime; and eszopiclone, 3 mg at bedtime. Despite these treatments, he experiences increased anxiety and insomnia, and develops depressive symptoms, including depressed mood, poor concentration, general malaise, extreme fatigue, a 15-pound unintentional weight loss, erectile dysfunction, and decreased libido. Mr. A denies having suicidal or homicidal ideations. Additionally, he typically goes to the gym approximately 3 times per week, and has noticed that the amount of weight he is able to lift has decreased, which is distressing. Previously, he had been able to lift 300 pounds, but now he can only lift 200 pounds. 

[polldaddy:10891920]

The authors’ observations

Insomnia, anxiety, and depression are common chief complaints in medical settings. However, some psychiatric presentations may have an underlying medical etiology. 

DSM-5 requires that medical conditions be ruled out in order for a patient to meet criteria for a psychiatric diagnosis.¹ Medical differential diagnoses for patients with psychiatric symptoms can include autoimmune, drug/toxin, metabolic, infectious, neoplastic, neurologic, and nutritional etiologies (Table 1²). To rule out the possibility of an underlying medical etiology, general screening guidelines include complete blood count, complete metabolic panel, urinalysis, and urine drug screen with alcohol. Human immunodeficiency virus testing and thyroid hormone testing are also commonly ordered.³ Further laboratory testing and imaging is typically not warranted in the absence of historical or physical findings because they are not advocated as cost-effective, so health care professionals must use their clinical judgment to determine appropriate further evaluation. The onset of anxiety most commonly occurs in late adolescence early and adulthood, but Mr. A experienced his first symptoms of anxiety at age 41.² Mr. A’s age, lack of psychiatric or family history of mental illness, acute onset of symptoms, and failure of symptoms to abate with standard psychiatric treatments warrant a more extensive workup.

EVALUATION Imaging reveals an important finding

Because Mr. A’s symptoms do not improve with standard psychiatric treatments, his PCP orders standard laboratory bloodwork to investigate a possible medical etiology; however, his results are all within normal range.

After the PCP’s niece is coincidentally diagnosed with a pituitary macroadenoma, the PCP orders brain imaging for Mr. A. Results of an MRI show that Mr. A has a 1.6-cm macro­adenoma of the pituitary. He is referred to an endocrinologist, who orders additional laboratory tests that show an elevated 24-hour free urine cortisol level of 73 μg/24 h (normal range: 3.5 to 45 μg/24 h), suggesting that Mr. A’s anxiety may be due to Cushing’s disease or that his anxiety caused falsely elevated urinary cortisol levels. Four weeks later, bloodwork is repeated and shows an abnormal dexamethasone suppression test, and 2 more elevated 24-hour free urine cortisol levels of 76 μg/24 h and 150 μg/24 h. A repeat MRI shows a 1.8-cm, mostly cystic sellar mass, indicating the need for surgical intervention. Although the tumor is large and shows optic nerve compression, Mr. A does not complain of headaches or changes in vision.

Continue to: Two months later...

Two months later, Mr. A undergoes a transsphenoidal tumor resection of the pituitary adenoma, and biopsy results confirm an adrenocorticotropic hormone (ACTH)-secreting pituitary macroadenoma, which is consistent with Cushing’s disease. Following surgery, steroid treatment with dexamethasone is discontinued due to a persistently elevated am cortisol level. After the surgery, Mr. A takes a leave of absence from work.

[polldaddy:10891923]

The authors’ observations

Chronic excess glucocorticoid production is the underlying pathophysiology of Cushing’s disease, which is most commonly caused by an ACTH-producing adenoma.^4,5 When these hormones become dysregulated, the result can be over- or underproduction of cortisol, which can lead to physical and psychiatric manifestations.⁶ 

Cushing’s disease most commonly manifests with the physical symptoms of centripetal fat deposition, abdominal striae, facial plethora, muscle atrophy, bone density loss, immunosuppression, and cardiovascular complications.⁵ 

Hypercortisolism can precipitate anxiety (12% to 79%), mood disorders (50% to 70%), and (less commonly) psychotic disorders; however, in a clinical setting, if a patient presented with one of these as a chief complaint, they would likely first be treated psychiatrically rather than worked up medically for a rare medical condition.^5,7-13 

Mr. A’s initial bloodwork was unremarkable, but cortisol levels were not obtained at that time because testing for cortisol levels to rule out an underlying medical condition is not routine in patients with depression and anxiety. In Mr. A’s case, a neuroendocrine workup was only ordered once his PCP’s niece coincidentally was diagnosed with a pituitary adenoma. 

Continue to: For Mr. A...

For Mr. A, Cushing’s disease presented as a psychiatric disorder with anxiety and insomnia that were resistant to numerous psychiatric medications during an 8-month period. If Mr. A’s PCP had not ordered a brain MRI, he may have continued to receive ineffective psychiatric treatment for some time. Many of Mr. A’s physical symptoms were consistent with Cushing’s disease and mental illness, including erectile dysfunction, fatigue, and muscle weakness; however, his 15-pound weight loss pointed more toward psychiatric illness and further disguised his underlying medical diagnosis, because sudden weight gain is commonly seen in Cushing’s disease (Table 2^4,5,7,9).

TREATMENT Persistent psychiatric symptoms, then finally relief

Four weeks after surgery, Mr. A’s psychiatric symptoms gradually intensify, which prompts him to see a psychiatrist. A mental status examination (MSE) shows that he is well-nourished, with normal activity, appropriate behavior, and coherent thought process, but depressed mood and flat affect. He denies suicidal or homicidal ideation. He reports that despite being advised to have realistic expectations, he had high hopes that the surgery would lead to remission of all his symptoms, and expresses disappointment that he does not feel “back to normal.”

Six days later, Mr. A’s wife takes him to the hospital. His MSE shows that he has a tense appearance, fidgety activity, depressed and anxious mood, restricted affect, circumstantial thought process, and paranoid delusions that his wife was plotting against him. He says he still is experiencing insomnia. He also discloses having suicidal ideations with a plan and intent to overdose on medication, as well as homicidal ideations about killing his wife and children. Mr. A provides reasons for why he would want to hurt his family, and does not appear to be bothered by these thoughts.

Mr. A is admitted to the inpatient psychiatric unit and is prescribed quetiapine, 100 mg every night at bedtime. During the next 2 days, quetiapine is titrated to 300 mg every night at bedtime. On hospital Day 3, Mr. A says he is feeling worse than the previous days. He is still having vague suicidal thoughts and feels agitated, guilty, and depressed. To treat these persistent symptoms, quetiapine is further increased to 400 mg every night at bedtime, and he is initiated on bupropion XL, 150 mg, to treat persistent symptoms.

After 1 week of hospitalization, the treatment team meets with Mr. A and his wife, who has been supportive throughout her husband’s hospitalization. During the meeting, they both agree that Mr. A has experienced some improvement because he is no longer having suicidal or homicidal thoughts, but he is still feeling depressed and frustrated by his continued insomnia. Following the meeting, Mr. A’s quetiapine is further increased to 450 mg every night at bedtime to address continued insomnia, and bupropion XL is increased to 300 mg/d to address continued depressive symptoms. During the next few days, his affective symptoms improve; however, his initial insomnia continues, and quetiapine is further increased to 500 mg every night at bedtime.

Continue to: On hospital Day 20...

On hospital Day 20, Mr. A is discharged back to his outpatient psychiatrist and receives quetiapine, 500 mg every night at bedtime, and bupropion XL, 300 mg/d. Although Mr. A’s depression and anxiety continue to be well controlled, his insomnia persists. Sleep hygiene is addressed, and alprazolam, 0.5 mg every night at bedtime, is added to his regimen, which proves to be effective. 

OUTCOME A slow remission

After a year of treatment, Mr. A is slowly tapered off of all medications. Two years later, he is in complete remission of all psychiatric symptoms and no longer requires any psychotropic medications.

The authors’ observations

Treatment for hypercortisolism in patients with psychiatric symptoms triggered by glucocorticoid imbalance has typically resulted in a decrease in the severity of their psychiatric symptoms.^9,11 A prospective longitudinal study examining 33 patients found that correction of hypercortisolism in patients with Cushing’s syndrome often led to resolution of their psychiatric symptoms, with 87.9% of patients back to baseline within 1 year.¹⁴ However, to our knowledge, few reports have described the management of patients whose symptoms are resistant to treatment of hypercortisolism.

In our case, after transsphenoidal resection of an adenoma, Mr. A became suicidal and paranoid, and his anxiety and insomnia also persisted. A possible explanation for the worsening of Mr. A’s symptoms after surgery could be the slow recovery of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis and therefore a temporary deficiency in glucocorticoid, which caused an increase in catecholamines, leading to an increase in stress.¹⁴ This concept of a “slow recovery” is supported by the fact that Mr. A was successfully weaned off all medication after 1 year of treatment, and achieved complete remission of psychiatric symptoms for >2 years. Furthermore, the severity of Mr. A’s symptoms appeared to correlate with his 24-hour urine cortisol and am cortisol levels, which is also supported by the findings of Starkman et al.¹⁵ Mr. A’s psychiatric symptoms were most severe when his am cortisol levels peaked after his surgical resection, and his symptoms improved as his cortisol levels returned to normal. In the interim, while his psychiatric symptoms were exacerbated by the persistence of elevated cortisol levels, Mr. A was admitted psychiatrically and treated with psychotropic medications. Once his cortisol levels normalized and his psychiatric symptoms were well controlled with quetiapine, alprazolam, and bupropion for 1 year, he was titrated off all medications.

Future research should evaluate the utility of screening all patients with treatment-resistant anxiety and/or insomnia for hypercortisolism. Even without other clues to endocrinopathies, serum cortisol levels can be used as a screening tool for diagnosing underlying medical causes in patients with anxiety and depression.² A greater understanding of the relationship between medical and psychiatric manifestations will allow clinicians to better care for patients. Further research is needed to elucidate the quantitative relationship between cortisol levels and anxiety to evaluate severity, guide treatment planning, and follow treatment response for patients with anxiety. It may be useful to determine the threshold between elevated cortisol levels due to anxiety vs elevated cortisol due to an underlying medical pathology such as Cushing’s disease. Additionally, little research has been conducted to compare how psychiatric symptoms respond to pituitary macroadenoma resection alone, pharmaceutical intervention alone, or a combination of these approaches. It would be beneficial to evaluate these treatment strategies to elucidate the most effective method to reduce psychiatric symptoms in patients with hypercortisolism, and perhaps to reduce the incidence of post-resection worsening of psychiatric symptoms. 

Continue to: This case was challenging...

This case was challenging because Mr. A did not initially respond to psychiatric intervention, his psychiatric symptoms worsened after transsphenoidal resection of the pituitary adenoma, and his symptoms were alleviated only after psychiatric medications were re-initiated following surgery. This case highlights the importance of considering an underlying medically diagnosable and treatable cause of psychiatric illness, and illustrates the complex ongoing management that may be necessary to help a patient with this condition achieve their baseline. Further, Mr. A’s case shows that the absence of response to standard psychiatric therapies should warrant earlier laboratory and/or imaging evaluation prior to or in conjunction with psychiatric referral. Additionally, testing for cortisol levels is not typically done for a patient with treatment-resistant anxiety, and this case highlights the importance of considering hypercortisolism in such circumstances. 

Bottom Line

Consider testing cortisol levels in patients with treatment-resistant anxiety and insomnia, because cortisol plays a role in Cushing’s disease and anxiety. The severity of psychiatric manifestations of Cushing’s disease may correlate with cortisol levels. Treatment should focus on symptomatic management and underlying etiology.

Related Resources

• Roberts LW, Hales RE, Yudofsky SC, ed. The American Psychiatric Association Publishing Textbook of Psychiatry. 7th ed. American Psychiatric Association Publishing; 2019.
• Rotham J. Cushing’s syndrome: a tale of frequent misdiagnosis. National Center for Health Research. 2020. www.center4research.org/cushings-syndrome-frequent-misdiagnosis/
• Middleman D. Psychiatric issues of Cushing’s patients: coping with Cushing’s. Cushing’s Support and Research Foundation. www.csrf.net/coping-with-cushings/psychiatric-issues-of-cushings-patients/

Drug Brand Names

Alprazolam • Xanax
Bupropion • Wellbutrin
Dexamethasone • Decadron
Diazepam • Valium
Eszopiclone • Lunesta
Paroxetine • Paxil
Quetiapine • Seroquel
Zolpidem tartrate • Ambien CR

CASE Anxious and can’t sleep

Mr. A, age 41, presents to his primary care physician (PCP) with anxiety and insomnia. He describes having generalized anxiety with initial and middle insomnia, and says he is sleeping an average of 2 hours per night. He denies any other psychiatric symptoms. Mr. A has no significant psychiatric or medical history.

Mr. A is initiated on zolpidem tartrate, 12.5 mg every night at bedtime, and paroxetine, 20 mg every night at bedtime, for anxiety and insomnia, but these medications result in little to no improvement.

During a 4-month period, he is treated with trials of alprazolam, 0.5 mg every 8 hours as needed; diazepam 5 mg twice a day as needed; diphenhydramine, 50 mg at bedtime; and eszopiclone, 3 mg at bedtime. Despite these treatments, he experiences increased anxiety and insomnia, and develops depressive symptoms, including depressed mood, poor concentration, general malaise, extreme fatigue, a 15-pound unintentional weight loss, erectile dysfunction, and decreased libido. Mr. A denies having suicidal or homicidal ideations. Additionally, he typically goes to the gym approximately 3 times per week, and has noticed that the amount of weight he is able to lift has decreased, which is distressing. Previously, he had been able to lift 300 pounds, but now he can only lift 200 pounds. 

[polldaddy:10891920]

The authors’ observations

Insomnia, anxiety, and depression are common chief complaints in medical settings. However, some psychiatric presentations may have an underlying medical etiology. 

DSM-5 requires that medical conditions be ruled out in order for a patient to meet criteria for a psychiatric diagnosis.¹ Medical differential diagnoses for patients with psychiatric symptoms can include autoimmune, drug/toxin, metabolic, infectious, neoplastic, neurologic, and nutritional etiologies (Table 1²). To rule out the possibility of an underlying medical etiology, general screening guidelines include complete blood count, complete metabolic panel, urinalysis, and urine drug screen with alcohol. Human immunodeficiency virus testing and thyroid hormone testing are also commonly ordered.³ Further laboratory testing and imaging is typically not warranted in the absence of historical or physical findings because they are not advocated as cost-effective, so health care professionals must use their clinical judgment to determine appropriate further evaluation. The onset of anxiety most commonly occurs in late adolescence early and adulthood, but Mr. A experienced his first symptoms of anxiety at age 41.² Mr. A’s age, lack of psychiatric or family history of mental illness, acute onset of symptoms, and failure of symptoms to abate with standard psychiatric treatments warrant a more extensive workup.

EVALUATION Imaging reveals an important finding

Because Mr. A’s symptoms do not improve with standard psychiatric treatments, his PCP orders standard laboratory bloodwork to investigate a possible medical etiology; however, his results are all within normal range.

After the PCP’s niece is coincidentally diagnosed with a pituitary macroadenoma, the PCP orders brain imaging for Mr. A. Results of an MRI show that Mr. A has a 1.6-cm macro­adenoma of the pituitary. He is referred to an endocrinologist, who orders additional laboratory tests that show an elevated 24-hour free urine cortisol level of 73 μg/24 h (normal range: 3.5 to 45 μg/24 h), suggesting that Mr. A’s anxiety may be due to Cushing’s disease or that his anxiety caused falsely elevated urinary cortisol levels. Four weeks later, bloodwork is repeated and shows an abnormal dexamethasone suppression test, and 2 more elevated 24-hour free urine cortisol levels of 76 μg/24 h and 150 μg/24 h. A repeat MRI shows a 1.8-cm, mostly cystic sellar mass, indicating the need for surgical intervention. Although the tumor is large and shows optic nerve compression, Mr. A does not complain of headaches or changes in vision.

Continue to: Two months later...

Two months later, Mr. A undergoes a transsphenoidal tumor resection of the pituitary adenoma, and biopsy results confirm an adrenocorticotropic hormone (ACTH)-secreting pituitary macroadenoma, which is consistent with Cushing’s disease. Following surgery, steroid treatment with dexamethasone is discontinued due to a persistently elevated am cortisol level. After the surgery, Mr. A takes a leave of absence from work.

[polldaddy:10891923]

The authors’ observations

Chronic excess glucocorticoid production is the underlying pathophysiology of Cushing’s disease, which is most commonly caused by an ACTH-producing adenoma.^4,5 When these hormones become dysregulated, the result can be over- or underproduction of cortisol, which can lead to physical and psychiatric manifestations.⁶ 

Cushing’s disease most commonly manifests with the physical symptoms of centripetal fat deposition, abdominal striae, facial plethora, muscle atrophy, bone density loss, immunosuppression, and cardiovascular complications.⁵ 

Hypercortisolism can precipitate anxiety (12% to 79%), mood disorders (50% to 70%), and (less commonly) psychotic disorders; however, in a clinical setting, if a patient presented with one of these as a chief complaint, they would likely first be treated psychiatrically rather than worked up medically for a rare medical condition.^5,7-13 

Mr. A’s initial bloodwork was unremarkable, but cortisol levels were not obtained at that time because testing for cortisol levels to rule out an underlying medical condition is not routine in patients with depression and anxiety. In Mr. A’s case, a neuroendocrine workup was only ordered once his PCP’s niece coincidentally was diagnosed with a pituitary adenoma. 

Continue to: For Mr. A...

For Mr. A, Cushing’s disease presented as a psychiatric disorder with anxiety and insomnia that were resistant to numerous psychiatric medications during an 8-month period. If Mr. A’s PCP had not ordered a brain MRI, he may have continued to receive ineffective psychiatric treatment for some time. Many of Mr. A’s physical symptoms were consistent with Cushing’s disease and mental illness, including erectile dysfunction, fatigue, and muscle weakness; however, his 15-pound weight loss pointed more toward psychiatric illness and further disguised his underlying medical diagnosis, because sudden weight gain is commonly seen in Cushing’s disease (Table 2^4,5,7,9).

TREATMENT Persistent psychiatric symptoms, then finally relief

Four weeks after surgery, Mr. A’s psychiatric symptoms gradually intensify, which prompts him to see a psychiatrist. A mental status examination (MSE) shows that he is well-nourished, with normal activity, appropriate behavior, and coherent thought process, but depressed mood and flat affect. He denies suicidal or homicidal ideation. He reports that despite being advised to have realistic expectations, he had high hopes that the surgery would lead to remission of all his symptoms, and expresses disappointment that he does not feel “back to normal.”

Six days later, Mr. A’s wife takes him to the hospital. His MSE shows that he has a tense appearance, fidgety activity, depressed and anxious mood, restricted affect, circumstantial thought process, and paranoid delusions that his wife was plotting against him. He says he still is experiencing insomnia. He also discloses having suicidal ideations with a plan and intent to overdose on medication, as well as homicidal ideations about killing his wife and children. Mr. A provides reasons for why he would want to hurt his family, and does not appear to be bothered by these thoughts.

Mr. A is admitted to the inpatient psychiatric unit and is prescribed quetiapine, 100 mg every night at bedtime. During the next 2 days, quetiapine is titrated to 300 mg every night at bedtime. On hospital Day 3, Mr. A says he is feeling worse than the previous days. He is still having vague suicidal thoughts and feels agitated, guilty, and depressed. To treat these persistent symptoms, quetiapine is further increased to 400 mg every night at bedtime, and he is initiated on bupropion XL, 150 mg, to treat persistent symptoms.

After 1 week of hospitalization, the treatment team meets with Mr. A and his wife, who has been supportive throughout her husband’s hospitalization. During the meeting, they both agree that Mr. A has experienced some improvement because he is no longer having suicidal or homicidal thoughts, but he is still feeling depressed and frustrated by his continued insomnia. Following the meeting, Mr. A’s quetiapine is further increased to 450 mg every night at bedtime to address continued insomnia, and bupropion XL is increased to 300 mg/d to address continued depressive symptoms. During the next few days, his affective symptoms improve; however, his initial insomnia continues, and quetiapine is further increased to 500 mg every night at bedtime.

Continue to: On hospital Day 20...

On hospital Day 20, Mr. A is discharged back to his outpatient psychiatrist and receives quetiapine, 500 mg every night at bedtime, and bupropion XL, 300 mg/d. Although Mr. A’s depression and anxiety continue to be well controlled, his insomnia persists. Sleep hygiene is addressed, and alprazolam, 0.5 mg every night at bedtime, is added to his regimen, which proves to be effective. 

OUTCOME A slow remission

After a year of treatment, Mr. A is slowly tapered off of all medications. Two years later, he is in complete remission of all psychiatric symptoms and no longer requires any psychotropic medications.

The authors’ observations

Treatment for hypercortisolism in patients with psychiatric symptoms triggered by glucocorticoid imbalance has typically resulted in a decrease in the severity of their psychiatric symptoms.^9,11 A prospective longitudinal study examining 33 patients found that correction of hypercortisolism in patients with Cushing’s syndrome often led to resolution of their psychiatric symptoms, with 87.9% of patients back to baseline within 1 year.¹⁴ However, to our knowledge, few reports have described the management of patients whose symptoms are resistant to treatment of hypercortisolism.

In our case, after transsphenoidal resection of an adenoma, Mr. A became suicidal and paranoid, and his anxiety and insomnia also persisted. A possible explanation for the worsening of Mr. A’s symptoms after surgery could be the slow recovery of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis and therefore a temporary deficiency in glucocorticoid, which caused an increase in catecholamines, leading to an increase in stress.¹⁴ This concept of a “slow recovery” is supported by the fact that Mr. A was successfully weaned off all medication after 1 year of treatment, and achieved complete remission of psychiatric symptoms for >2 years. Furthermore, the severity of Mr. A’s symptoms appeared to correlate with his 24-hour urine cortisol and am cortisol levels, which is also supported by the findings of Starkman et al.¹⁵ Mr. A’s psychiatric symptoms were most severe when his am cortisol levels peaked after his surgical resection, and his symptoms improved as his cortisol levels returned to normal. In the interim, while his psychiatric symptoms were exacerbated by the persistence of elevated cortisol levels, Mr. A was admitted psychiatrically and treated with psychotropic medications. Once his cortisol levels normalized and his psychiatric symptoms were well controlled with quetiapine, alprazolam, and bupropion for 1 year, he was titrated off all medications.

Future research should evaluate the utility of screening all patients with treatment-resistant anxiety and/or insomnia for hypercortisolism. Even without other clues to endocrinopathies, serum cortisol levels can be used as a screening tool for diagnosing underlying medical causes in patients with anxiety and depression.² A greater understanding of the relationship between medical and psychiatric manifestations will allow clinicians to better care for patients. Further research is needed to elucidate the quantitative relationship between cortisol levels and anxiety to evaluate severity, guide treatment planning, and follow treatment response for patients with anxiety. It may be useful to determine the threshold between elevated cortisol levels due to anxiety vs elevated cortisol due to an underlying medical pathology such as Cushing’s disease. Additionally, little research has been conducted to compare how psychiatric symptoms respond to pituitary macroadenoma resection alone, pharmaceutical intervention alone, or a combination of these approaches. It would be beneficial to evaluate these treatment strategies to elucidate the most effective method to reduce psychiatric symptoms in patients with hypercortisolism, and perhaps to reduce the incidence of post-resection worsening of psychiatric symptoms. 

Continue to: This case was challenging...

This case was challenging because Mr. A did not initially respond to psychiatric intervention, his psychiatric symptoms worsened after transsphenoidal resection of the pituitary adenoma, and his symptoms were alleviated only after psychiatric medications were re-initiated following surgery. This case highlights the importance of considering an underlying medically diagnosable and treatable cause of psychiatric illness, and illustrates the complex ongoing management that may be necessary to help a patient with this condition achieve their baseline. Further, Mr. A’s case shows that the absence of response to standard psychiatric therapies should warrant earlier laboratory and/or imaging evaluation prior to or in conjunction with psychiatric referral. Additionally, testing for cortisol levels is not typically done for a patient with treatment-resistant anxiety, and this case highlights the importance of considering hypercortisolism in such circumstances. 

Bottom Line

Consider testing cortisol levels in patients with treatment-resistant anxiety and insomnia, because cortisol plays a role in Cushing’s disease and anxiety. The severity of psychiatric manifestations of Cushing’s disease may correlate with cortisol levels. Treatment should focus on symptomatic management and underlying etiology.

Related Resources

• Roberts LW, Hales RE, Yudofsky SC, ed. The American Psychiatric Association Publishing Textbook of Psychiatry. 7th ed. American Psychiatric Association Publishing; 2019.
• Rotham J. Cushing’s syndrome: a tale of frequent misdiagnosis. National Center for Health Research. 2020. www.center4research.org/cushings-syndrome-frequent-misdiagnosis/
• Middleman D. Psychiatric issues of Cushing’s patients: coping with Cushing’s. Cushing’s Support and Research Foundation. www.csrf.net/coping-with-cushings/psychiatric-issues-of-cushings-patients/

Drug Brand Names

Alprazolam • Xanax
Bupropion • Wellbutrin
Dexamethasone • Decadron
Diazepam • Valium
Eszopiclone • Lunesta
Paroxetine • Paxil
Quetiapine • Seroquel
Zolpidem tartrate • Ambien CR

After Sept. 11, 2001, and the subsequent long war in Iraq and Afghanistan, both mental health providers and the general public focused on posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). However, after almost 20 years of war and the COVID-19 epidemic, attention waned away from military service members and PTSD.

COVID-19–related PTSD and the hearings on the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol have reignited interest in PTSD diagnosis and treatment. Testimony from police officers at the House select committee hearing about their experiences during the assault and PTSD was harrowing. One of the police officers had also served in Iraq, perhaps leading to “layered PTSD” – symptoms from war abroad and at home.

Thus, I thought a brief review of updates about diagnosis and treatment would be useful. Note: These are my opinions based on my extensive experience and do not represent the official opinion of my employer (MedStar Health).

PTSD was first classified as a disorder in 1980, based mainly on the experiences of military service members in Vietnam, as well as sexual assault victims and disaster survivors. Readers may look elsewhere for a fuller history of the disorder.

However, in brief, we have evolved from strict reliance on a variety of symptoms in the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) to a more global determination of the experience of trauma and related symptoms of distress. We still rely for diagnosis on trauma-related anxiety and depression symptoms, such as nightmare, flashbacks, numbness, and disassociation.

Treatment has evolved. Patients may benefit from treatment even if they do not meet all the PTSD criteria. As many of my colleagues who treat patients have said, “if it smells like PTSD, treat it like PTSD.”

What is the most effective treatment? The literature declares that evidence-based treatments include two selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (Zoloft and Paxil) and several psychotherapies. The psychotherapies include cognitive-behavioral therapies, exposure therapy, and EMDR (eye movement desensitization reprocessing).

The problem is that many patients cannot tolerate these therapies. SSRIs do have side effects, the most distressing being sexual dysfunction. Many service members do not enter the psychotherapies, or they drop out of trials, because they cannot tolerate the reimagining of their trauma.

I now counsel patients about the “three buckets” of treatment. The first bucket is medication, which as a psychiatrist is what I focus on. The second bucket is psychotherapy as discussed above. The third bucket is “everything else.”

“Everything else” includes a variety of methods the patients can use to reduce symptoms of anxiety, depression, and PTSD symptoms: exercising; deep breathing through the nose; doing yoga; doing meditation; playing or working with animals; gardening; and engaging in other activities that “self sooth.” I also recommend always doing “small acts of kindness” for others. I myself contribute to food banks and bring cookies or watermelons to the staff at my hospital.

Why is this approach useful? A menu of options gives control back to the patient. It provides activities that can reduce anxiety. Thinking about caring for others helps patients get out of their own “swamp of distress.”

We do live in very difficult times. We’re coping with COVID-19 Delta variant, attacks on the Capitol, and gun violence. I have not yet mentioned climate change, which is extremely frightening to many of us. So all providers need to be aware of all the strategies at our disposal to treat anxiety, depression, and PTSD.
 

Dr. Ritchie is chair of psychiatry at Medstar Washington (D.C.) Hospital Center. She has no conflicts of interest.

After Sept. 11, 2001, and the subsequent long war in Iraq and Afghanistan, both mental health providers and the general public focused on posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). However, after almost 20 years of war and the COVID-19 epidemic, attention waned away from military service members and PTSD.

COVID-19–related PTSD and the hearings on the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol have reignited interest in PTSD diagnosis and treatment. Testimony from police officers at the House select committee hearing about their experiences during the assault and PTSD was harrowing. One of the police officers had also served in Iraq, perhaps leading to “layered PTSD” – symptoms from war abroad and at home.

Thus, I thought a brief review of updates about diagnosis and treatment would be useful. Note: These are my opinions based on my extensive experience and do not represent the official opinion of my employer (MedStar Health).

PTSD was first classified as a disorder in 1980, based mainly on the experiences of military service members in Vietnam, as well as sexual assault victims and disaster survivors. Readers may look elsewhere for a fuller history of the disorder.

However, in brief, we have evolved from strict reliance on a variety of symptoms in the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) to a more global determination of the experience of trauma and related symptoms of distress. We still rely for diagnosis on trauma-related anxiety and depression symptoms, such as nightmare, flashbacks, numbness, and disassociation.

Treatment has evolved. Patients may benefit from treatment even if they do not meet all the PTSD criteria. As many of my colleagues who treat patients have said, “if it smells like PTSD, treat it like PTSD.”

What is the most effective treatment? The literature declares that evidence-based treatments include two selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (Zoloft and Paxil) and several psychotherapies. The psychotherapies include cognitive-behavioral therapies, exposure therapy, and EMDR (eye movement desensitization reprocessing).

The problem is that many patients cannot tolerate these therapies. SSRIs do have side effects, the most distressing being sexual dysfunction. Many service members do not enter the psychotherapies, or they drop out of trials, because they cannot tolerate the reimagining of their trauma.

I now counsel patients about the “three buckets” of treatment. The first bucket is medication, which as a psychiatrist is what I focus on. The second bucket is psychotherapy as discussed above. The third bucket is “everything else.”

“Everything else” includes a variety of methods the patients can use to reduce symptoms of anxiety, depression, and PTSD symptoms: exercising; deep breathing through the nose; doing yoga; doing meditation; playing or working with animals; gardening; and engaging in other activities that “self sooth.” I also recommend always doing “small acts of kindness” for others. I myself contribute to food banks and bring cookies or watermelons to the staff at my hospital.

Why is this approach useful? A menu of options gives control back to the patient. It provides activities that can reduce anxiety. Thinking about caring for others helps patients get out of their own “swamp of distress.”

We do live in very difficult times. We’re coping with COVID-19 Delta variant, attacks on the Capitol, and gun violence. I have not yet mentioned climate change, which is extremely frightening to many of us. So all providers need to be aware of all the strategies at our disposal to treat anxiety, depression, and PTSD.
 

Dr. Ritchie is chair of psychiatry at Medstar Washington (D.C.) Hospital Center. She has no conflicts of interest.

After Sept. 11, 2001, and the subsequent long war in Iraq and Afghanistan, both mental health providers and the general public focused on posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). However, after almost 20 years of war and the COVID-19 epidemic, attention waned away from military service members and PTSD.

COVID-19–related PTSD and the hearings on the Jan. 6 attack on the Capitol have reignited interest in PTSD diagnosis and treatment. Testimony from police officers at the House select committee hearing about their experiences during the assault and PTSD was harrowing. One of the police officers had also served in Iraq, perhaps leading to “layered PTSD” – symptoms from war abroad and at home.

Thus, I thought a brief review of updates about diagnosis and treatment would be useful. Note: These are my opinions based on my extensive experience and do not represent the official opinion of my employer (MedStar Health).

PTSD was first classified as a disorder in 1980, based mainly on the experiences of military service members in Vietnam, as well as sexual assault victims and disaster survivors. Readers may look elsewhere for a fuller history of the disorder.

However, in brief, we have evolved from strict reliance on a variety of symptoms in the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) to a more global determination of the experience of trauma and related symptoms of distress. We still rely for diagnosis on trauma-related anxiety and depression symptoms, such as nightmare, flashbacks, numbness, and disassociation.

Treatment has evolved. Patients may benefit from treatment even if they do not meet all the PTSD criteria. As many of my colleagues who treat patients have said, “if it smells like PTSD, treat it like PTSD.”

What is the most effective treatment? The literature declares that evidence-based treatments include two selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (Zoloft and Paxil) and several psychotherapies. The psychotherapies include cognitive-behavioral therapies, exposure therapy, and EMDR (eye movement desensitization reprocessing).

The problem is that many patients cannot tolerate these therapies. SSRIs do have side effects, the most distressing being sexual dysfunction. Many service members do not enter the psychotherapies, or they drop out of trials, because they cannot tolerate the reimagining of their trauma.

I now counsel patients about the “three buckets” of treatment. The first bucket is medication, which as a psychiatrist is what I focus on. The second bucket is psychotherapy as discussed above. The third bucket is “everything else.”

“Everything else” includes a variety of methods the patients can use to reduce symptoms of anxiety, depression, and PTSD symptoms: exercising; deep breathing through the nose; doing yoga; doing meditation; playing or working with animals; gardening; and engaging in other activities that “self sooth.” I also recommend always doing “small acts of kindness” for others. I myself contribute to food banks and bring cookies or watermelons to the staff at my hospital.

Why is this approach useful? A menu of options gives control back to the patient. It provides activities that can reduce anxiety. Thinking about caring for others helps patients get out of their own “swamp of distress.”

We do live in very difficult times. We’re coping with COVID-19 Delta variant, attacks on the Capitol, and gun violence. I have not yet mentioned climate change, which is extremely frightening to many of us. So all providers need to be aware of all the strategies at our disposal to treat anxiety, depression, and PTSD.
 

Dr. Ritchie is chair of psychiatry at Medstar Washington (D.C.) Hospital Center. She has no conflicts of interest.

“I feel like my aggression is being racialized.” “Of course I wouldn’t call the cops if I felt like hurting myself. I’m Black.”

Those statements represent the heightened trauma our Black and Brown patients with mental health issues have been experiencing. In the wake of increasingly publicized police brutality against Black and Brown communities, the role race plays in mental health decompensation is evident. At this moment in time, we must continue to improve our understanding of the role race plays in psychiatric disorders. We must also ask ourselves: At times, does psychiatry worsen the traumas of the communities we serve?

Some psychiatrists are afraid to speak about race. They may believe it to be too “political.” But avoiding these necessary conversations perpetuates the trauma of those we treat. It suggests that physicians are ignorant of an issue at the forefront of patients’ mental health. Psychiatry, today, is primarily focused on the biological aspects of disease. We must not forget that psychiatry is biopsychosocial. It is imperative that psychiatrists have conversations about race – and its significance to our patients and their care.

Our difficulty in discussing race in part comes from the lack of representation by Black and Brown psychiatrists. Only 10.4% of psychiatrists in the United States comprise those considered underrepresented in medicine (URM). Yet, those very groups make up 32.6% of the U.S. population and are overrepresented in psychiatric hospitals.¹ Many studies have shown that concordant racial backgrounds between patient and physician lead to a more positive patient experience² and arguably, the subsequent potential for better health outcomes. Our efforts in addressing this disparity often fall short. URM applicants may be hesitant to join an institution where diversity is lacking or where they may be the only minority.³ While there is no simple solution, I propose that psychiatrists promote the importance of mental health to Black and Brown students of all ages by collaborating with schools and community leaders.

It is important to acknowledge that the lack of diversity within psychiatry is reflective of that among all physicians. This in part stems from the barriers to medical education that Black and Brown communities face. Those who start off with more resources or have parents who are physicians are at an advantage when trying to get into medical school. In fact, one in five medical students have a parent who is a physician⁴ and about three-fourths of students come from families whose income falls among the top two quintiles.⁵ Impoverished communities, which have a disproportionate share of Black and Brown people, cannot afford to take MCAT preparatory classes or to accept unpaid “resume building” opportunities. Many medical schools continue to place more weight on test scores and research/medical experiences, despite a shift to a more holistic review process. Institutions that have tried a different approach and accepted students from more diverse backgrounds may often overlook the challenges that URM students face while in medical school and fail to provide appropriate support resources.

The result is a failure to retain such students. A study conducted at Stony Brook (N.Y.) University showed that those underrepresented in medicine were six times more likely to get dismissed from medical school, and three times more likely to both withdraw or graduate beyond 4 years, compared with their White counterparts.⁶ This is a serious issue that needs to change on a structural and systemic level.

Any discussion of race and psychiatry must acknowledge psychiatry’s history of racism against Black and Brown communities to engage in racially informed discussions with our patients. Only then can we play a better role advocating against racism within the field in the future. Dating back to the 18th century, psychiatry has promoted ideologies that promote racism. Benjamin Rush, considered the “father of American Psychiatry,” believed that Black skin was a disease derived from leprosy called “negritude.” In the late 19th century, this twisted ideology continued with the invention of the term “drapetomania,” which was used to describe enslaved people who ran away as having a mental disorder.⁷ Black prisoners were subjected to experimental treatment with substances such as LSD and bulbocapnine to subdue them.⁸ This idea that minorities were dangerous and needed to be subdued translated into a higher number of schizophrenia diagnoses, particularly among Black men, as it was used as a tool to vilify them in the 1970s. Although schizophrenia is equally prevalent among Whites and non-Whites, Black people are four times more likely to be diagnosed, compared with their White counterparts, while Hispanics are three times more likely. Studies have shown that Black and Brown men are also more likely to receive higher doses of antipsychotics.⁹

Given this history, it is not surprising that Black and Brown representation within the field is lacking and that patients may be hesitant to share their feelings about race with us. While we can’t change history, we can take a stance condemning the harmful behavior of the past. The American Psychiatric Association issued an apology earlier this year to Black, Indigenous, and People of Color for its support in structural racism.¹⁰ This is a step in the right direction, but we need more than statements or performative actions. We need to amplify the voices of Black and Brown psychiatrists and patients, as well as highlight their current and past contributions to the field. While my educational experiences focused on the work of prominent White scholars, medical curricula should showcase the work of people like Solomon Carter Fuller, MD, a Black psychiatrist who was essential to understanding Alzheimer’s, or Joseph White, PhD, sometimes referred to as the “godfather of Black psychology.”¹¹

At times, I have found myself witness to situations where colleagues make statements that not only do not condemn racism, but in fact encourage it. I have unfortunately heard some use the all-too-familiar rhetoric of reverse racism, such as: “They just assume I am racist because I am a White male” or “They’re being racist against me” or statements like “Don’t you think it is far-fetched to believe she was just sitting on a college campus doing nothing when the police were called?” Rhetoric such as this is problematic to the field of psychiatry and medicine as a whole – and only serves to further invalidate the feelings of our Black and Brown patients. We must increase exposure and education regarding racism to address this, especially the meaning of microaggressions, a concept many fail to understand.

Attention to the subject of racism has increased within medical schools and residency training programs in the wake of George Floyd’s death. However, most programs often make these lectures optional or only have one to two limited sessions. Furthermore, many do not make it mandatory for faculty to attend; they are arguably the most in need of this training given that they set the precedent of how to practice psychiatry. Some institutions have incorporated comprehensive antiracist curriculums into medical training. One model that has been successful is the Social Justice and Health Equity program within Yale University’s psychiatry residency. The curriculum has four tracks:

• Structural competency, which focuses on the mental health impact of extraclinical structures, for example a patient’s neighborhood and associated barriers of access.
• Human experience, which explores the interaction of patients and providers and how biases play a role.
• Advocacy, which teaches residents the written and oral skills to lobby for patient interests on a community and legislative level.
• History of psychiatry, which focuses on understanding psychiatry’s prior role in racism.

In each track, there are group discussions, cases led by faculty, and meetings with community leaders. Through this curriculum, residents learn about power, privilege, and how to interact with and advocate for patients in a way that promotes equity, rather than racial disparity.^12,13 This is a model that other psychiatric residency programs can promote, emulate, and benefit from.

Educating ourselves will hopefully lead to a deeper introspection of how we interact with patients and if we are promoting antiracism through our attitude and actions. Reflecting on my own personal practice, I have noted that the interplay of race, mental health, and provider decision-making becomes particularly complex when dealing with situations in which a patient exhibits increased aggression or agitation. As a second-year psychiatric resident immersed in the inpatient world, I have become familiar with patients at higher risk and greater need. The first attempt toward de-escalation involves verbal cues without any other more intrusive measures. If that fails, intramuscular (IM) medications are typically considered. If a patient has a history of aggressive behavior, the threshold to use IM medications can decrease dramatically. This is mainly to protect ourselves and our nursing staff and to prioritize safety. While I understand this rationale, I wonder about the patient’s experience. What constitutes “aggressive” behavior? For patients who have had violence used against them because of their race or who have suffered from police brutality, having police present or threatening IM medications will increasingly trigger them and escalate the situation. The aftermath can deepen the distrust of psychiatry by Black and Brown people.

How do we then handle such situations in a way that both protects our staff from physical harm and protects our patients from racial trauma? While I don’t have a great answer, I think we can benefit from standardizing what we consider aggressive behavior and have specific criteria that patients need to exhibit before administering an IM medication. In addition, discussions with the team, including residents, nurses, and attending physicians, about how to address an emergent situation before it actually happens are essential. Specifically discussing the patient’s history and race and how it may affect the situation is not something to be shied away from. Lastly, in the event that an IM medication is administered and police are present, debriefing with the patient afterward is necessary. The patient may not be willing or able to listen to you or trust you, but taking accountability and acknowledging what happened, justified or not, is a part of the process of rebuilding rapport.

Both in the purview of the individual psychiatrist and the field of psychiatry as a whole, we need to examine our behavior and not be afraid to make changes for the betterment of our patients. We must learn to talk about race with our patients and in the process, advocate for more representation of Black and Brown psychiatrists, understanding the barriers faced by these communities when pursuing the medical field. We must educate ourselves on psychiatry’s history, and equip ourselves with knowledge and tools to promote antiracism and shape psychiatry’s future. We can then apply these very tools to challenging situations we may encounter daily with the ultimate goal of improving the mental health of our patients. This is the only way we will progress and ensure that psychiatry is an equitable, antiracist field. As Ibram X. Kendi, PhD, has written, “The heartbeat of antiracism is self-reflection, recognition, admission, and fundamentally self-critique.”
 

Dr. Malik is a second-year psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She has a background in policy and grassroots organizing through her time working at the National Coalition for the Homeless and the Women’s Law Project. Dr. Malik has no disclosures.

References

1. Wyse R et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2020 Oct;44(5):523-30.

2. Cooper LA et al. Ann Intern Med. 2003;139:907-15.

3. Pierre JM et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2017;41:226-32.

4. Hartocollis A. “Getting into med school without hard sciences.” New York Times. 2010 Jul 29.

5. AAMC. An updated look at the economic diversity of U.S. medical students. Analysis in Brief. 2018 Oct;18(5).

6. Rainey ML. How do we retain minority health professions students. In: Smedley BD et al. The right thing to do, the smart thing to do: Enhancing diversity in the health professions: Summary of the Symposium on Diversity in Health Professions in Honor of Herbert W. Nickens, M.D. Institute of Medicine. National Academies Press. 2001.

7. Geller J. “Structural racism in American psychiatry and APA: Part 1.” Psychiatric News. 2020 Jun 23.

8. Mohr CL and Gordon JE. Tulane: The emergence of a modern university, 1945-1980. Louisiana State University Press, Baton Rouge. 2001.

9. Metzl JM. The protest psychosis: How schizophrenia became a Black disease. Beacon Press. 2010.

10. APA’s apology to Black, indigenous and people of color for its support of structural racism in psychiatry. American Psychiatric Association. 2021 Jan 18.

11. Black pioneers in mental health. Mental Health America. 2021.

12. Belli B. For Yale’s emerging psychiatrists, confronting racism is in the curriculum. Yale News. 2020 Jul 30.

13. Jordan A and Jackson D. Social justice and health equity curriculum. Yale School of Medicine. 2019 Sep 24.

“I feel like my aggression is being racialized.” “Of course I wouldn’t call the cops if I felt like hurting myself. I’m Black.”

Those statements represent the heightened trauma our Black and Brown patients with mental health issues have been experiencing. In the wake of increasingly publicized police brutality against Black and Brown communities, the role race plays in mental health decompensation is evident. At this moment in time, we must continue to improve our understanding of the role race plays in psychiatric disorders. We must also ask ourselves: At times, does psychiatry worsen the traumas of the communities we serve?

Some psychiatrists are afraid to speak about race. They may believe it to be too “political.” But avoiding these necessary conversations perpetuates the trauma of those we treat. It suggests that physicians are ignorant of an issue at the forefront of patients’ mental health. Psychiatry, today, is primarily focused on the biological aspects of disease. We must not forget that psychiatry is biopsychosocial. It is imperative that psychiatrists have conversations about race – and its significance to our patients and their care.

Our difficulty in discussing race in part comes from the lack of representation by Black and Brown psychiatrists. Only 10.4% of psychiatrists in the United States comprise those considered underrepresented in medicine (URM). Yet, those very groups make up 32.6% of the U.S. population and are overrepresented in psychiatric hospitals.¹ Many studies have shown that concordant racial backgrounds between patient and physician lead to a more positive patient experience² and arguably, the subsequent potential for better health outcomes. Our efforts in addressing this disparity often fall short. URM applicants may be hesitant to join an institution where diversity is lacking or where they may be the only minority.³ While there is no simple solution, I propose that psychiatrists promote the importance of mental health to Black and Brown students of all ages by collaborating with schools and community leaders.

It is important to acknowledge that the lack of diversity within psychiatry is reflective of that among all physicians. This in part stems from the barriers to medical education that Black and Brown communities face. Those who start off with more resources or have parents who are physicians are at an advantage when trying to get into medical school. In fact, one in five medical students have a parent who is a physician⁴ and about three-fourths of students come from families whose income falls among the top two quintiles.⁵ Impoverished communities, which have a disproportionate share of Black and Brown people, cannot afford to take MCAT preparatory classes or to accept unpaid “resume building” opportunities. Many medical schools continue to place more weight on test scores and research/medical experiences, despite a shift to a more holistic review process. Institutions that have tried a different approach and accepted students from more diverse backgrounds may often overlook the challenges that URM students face while in medical school and fail to provide appropriate support resources.

The result is a failure to retain such students. A study conducted at Stony Brook (N.Y.) University showed that those underrepresented in medicine were six times more likely to get dismissed from medical school, and three times more likely to both withdraw or graduate beyond 4 years, compared with their White counterparts.⁶ This is a serious issue that needs to change on a structural and systemic level.

Any discussion of race and psychiatry must acknowledge psychiatry’s history of racism against Black and Brown communities to engage in racially informed discussions with our patients. Only then can we play a better role advocating against racism within the field in the future. Dating back to the 18th century, psychiatry has promoted ideologies that promote racism. Benjamin Rush, considered the “father of American Psychiatry,” believed that Black skin was a disease derived from leprosy called “negritude.” In the late 19th century, this twisted ideology continued with the invention of the term “drapetomania,” which was used to describe enslaved people who ran away as having a mental disorder.⁷ Black prisoners were subjected to experimental treatment with substances such as LSD and bulbocapnine to subdue them.⁸ This idea that minorities were dangerous and needed to be subdued translated into a higher number of schizophrenia diagnoses, particularly among Black men, as it was used as a tool to vilify them in the 1970s. Although schizophrenia is equally prevalent among Whites and non-Whites, Black people are four times more likely to be diagnosed, compared with their White counterparts, while Hispanics are three times more likely. Studies have shown that Black and Brown men are also more likely to receive higher doses of antipsychotics.⁹

Given this history, it is not surprising that Black and Brown representation within the field is lacking and that patients may be hesitant to share their feelings about race with us. While we can’t change history, we can take a stance condemning the harmful behavior of the past. The American Psychiatric Association issued an apology earlier this year to Black, Indigenous, and People of Color for its support in structural racism.¹⁰ This is a step in the right direction, but we need more than statements or performative actions. We need to amplify the voices of Black and Brown psychiatrists and patients, as well as highlight their current and past contributions to the field. While my educational experiences focused on the work of prominent White scholars, medical curricula should showcase the work of people like Solomon Carter Fuller, MD, a Black psychiatrist who was essential to understanding Alzheimer’s, or Joseph White, PhD, sometimes referred to as the “godfather of Black psychology.”¹¹

At times, I have found myself witness to situations where colleagues make statements that not only do not condemn racism, but in fact encourage it. I have unfortunately heard some use the all-too-familiar rhetoric of reverse racism, such as: “They just assume I am racist because I am a White male” or “They’re being racist against me” or statements like “Don’t you think it is far-fetched to believe she was just sitting on a college campus doing nothing when the police were called?” Rhetoric such as this is problematic to the field of psychiatry and medicine as a whole – and only serves to further invalidate the feelings of our Black and Brown patients. We must increase exposure and education regarding racism to address this, especially the meaning of microaggressions, a concept many fail to understand.

Attention to the subject of racism has increased within medical schools and residency training programs in the wake of George Floyd’s death. However, most programs often make these lectures optional or only have one to two limited sessions. Furthermore, many do not make it mandatory for faculty to attend; they are arguably the most in need of this training given that they set the precedent of how to practice psychiatry. Some institutions have incorporated comprehensive antiracist curriculums into medical training. One model that has been successful is the Social Justice and Health Equity program within Yale University’s psychiatry residency. The curriculum has four tracks:

• Structural competency, which focuses on the mental health impact of extraclinical structures, for example a patient’s neighborhood and associated barriers of access.
• Human experience, which explores the interaction of patients and providers and how biases play a role.
• Advocacy, which teaches residents the written and oral skills to lobby for patient interests on a community and legislative level.
• History of psychiatry, which focuses on understanding psychiatry’s prior role in racism.

In each track, there are group discussions, cases led by faculty, and meetings with community leaders. Through this curriculum, residents learn about power, privilege, and how to interact with and advocate for patients in a way that promotes equity, rather than racial disparity.^12,13 This is a model that other psychiatric residency programs can promote, emulate, and benefit from.

Educating ourselves will hopefully lead to a deeper introspection of how we interact with patients and if we are promoting antiracism through our attitude and actions. Reflecting on my own personal practice, I have noted that the interplay of race, mental health, and provider decision-making becomes particularly complex when dealing with situations in which a patient exhibits increased aggression or agitation. As a second-year psychiatric resident immersed in the inpatient world, I have become familiar with patients at higher risk and greater need. The first attempt toward de-escalation involves verbal cues without any other more intrusive measures. If that fails, intramuscular (IM) medications are typically considered. If a patient has a history of aggressive behavior, the threshold to use IM medications can decrease dramatically. This is mainly to protect ourselves and our nursing staff and to prioritize safety. While I understand this rationale, I wonder about the patient’s experience. What constitutes “aggressive” behavior? For patients who have had violence used against them because of their race or who have suffered from police brutality, having police present or threatening IM medications will increasingly trigger them and escalate the situation. The aftermath can deepen the distrust of psychiatry by Black and Brown people.

How do we then handle such situations in a way that both protects our staff from physical harm and protects our patients from racial trauma? While I don’t have a great answer, I think we can benefit from standardizing what we consider aggressive behavior and have specific criteria that patients need to exhibit before administering an IM medication. In addition, discussions with the team, including residents, nurses, and attending physicians, about how to address an emergent situation before it actually happens are essential. Specifically discussing the patient’s history and race and how it may affect the situation is not something to be shied away from. Lastly, in the event that an IM medication is administered and police are present, debriefing with the patient afterward is necessary. The patient may not be willing or able to listen to you or trust you, but taking accountability and acknowledging what happened, justified or not, is a part of the process of rebuilding rapport.

Both in the purview of the individual psychiatrist and the field of psychiatry as a whole, we need to examine our behavior and not be afraid to make changes for the betterment of our patients. We must learn to talk about race with our patients and in the process, advocate for more representation of Black and Brown psychiatrists, understanding the barriers faced by these communities when pursuing the medical field. We must educate ourselves on psychiatry’s history, and equip ourselves with knowledge and tools to promote antiracism and shape psychiatry’s future. We can then apply these very tools to challenging situations we may encounter daily with the ultimate goal of improving the mental health of our patients. This is the only way we will progress and ensure that psychiatry is an equitable, antiracist field. As Ibram X. Kendi, PhD, has written, “The heartbeat of antiracism is self-reflection, recognition, admission, and fundamentally self-critique.”
 

Dr. Malik is a second-year psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She has a background in policy and grassroots organizing through her time working at the National Coalition for the Homeless and the Women’s Law Project. Dr. Malik has no disclosures.

References

1. Wyse R et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2020 Oct;44(5):523-30.

2. Cooper LA et al. Ann Intern Med. 2003;139:907-15.

3. Pierre JM et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2017;41:226-32.

4. Hartocollis A. “Getting into med school without hard sciences.” New York Times. 2010 Jul 29.

5. AAMC. An updated look at the economic diversity of U.S. medical students. Analysis in Brief. 2018 Oct;18(5).

6. Rainey ML. How do we retain minority health professions students. In: Smedley BD et al. The right thing to do, the smart thing to do: Enhancing diversity in the health professions: Summary of the Symposium on Diversity in Health Professions in Honor of Herbert W. Nickens, M.D. Institute of Medicine. National Academies Press. 2001.

7. Geller J. “Structural racism in American psychiatry and APA: Part 1.” Psychiatric News. 2020 Jun 23.

8. Mohr CL and Gordon JE. Tulane: The emergence of a modern university, 1945-1980. Louisiana State University Press, Baton Rouge. 2001.

9. Metzl JM. The protest psychosis: How schizophrenia became a Black disease. Beacon Press. 2010.

10. APA’s apology to Black, indigenous and people of color for its support of structural racism in psychiatry. American Psychiatric Association. 2021 Jan 18.

11. Black pioneers in mental health. Mental Health America. 2021.

12. Belli B. For Yale’s emerging psychiatrists, confronting racism is in the curriculum. Yale News. 2020 Jul 30.

13. Jordan A and Jackson D. Social justice and health equity curriculum. Yale School of Medicine. 2019 Sep 24.

“I feel like my aggression is being racialized.” “Of course I wouldn’t call the cops if I felt like hurting myself. I’m Black.”

Those statements represent the heightened trauma our Black and Brown patients with mental health issues have been experiencing. In the wake of increasingly publicized police brutality against Black and Brown communities, the role race plays in mental health decompensation is evident. At this moment in time, we must continue to improve our understanding of the role race plays in psychiatric disorders. We must also ask ourselves: At times, does psychiatry worsen the traumas of the communities we serve?

Some psychiatrists are afraid to speak about race. They may believe it to be too “political.” But avoiding these necessary conversations perpetuates the trauma of those we treat. It suggests that physicians are ignorant of an issue at the forefront of patients’ mental health. Psychiatry, today, is primarily focused on the biological aspects of disease. We must not forget that psychiatry is biopsychosocial. It is imperative that psychiatrists have conversations about race – and its significance to our patients and their care.

Our difficulty in discussing race in part comes from the lack of representation by Black and Brown psychiatrists. Only 10.4% of psychiatrists in the United States comprise those considered underrepresented in medicine (URM). Yet, those very groups make up 32.6% of the U.S. population and are overrepresented in psychiatric hospitals.¹ Many studies have shown that concordant racial backgrounds between patient and physician lead to a more positive patient experience² and arguably, the subsequent potential for better health outcomes. Our efforts in addressing this disparity often fall short. URM applicants may be hesitant to join an institution where diversity is lacking or where they may be the only minority.³ While there is no simple solution, I propose that psychiatrists promote the importance of mental health to Black and Brown students of all ages by collaborating with schools and community leaders.

It is important to acknowledge that the lack of diversity within psychiatry is reflective of that among all physicians. This in part stems from the barriers to medical education that Black and Brown communities face. Those who start off with more resources or have parents who are physicians are at an advantage when trying to get into medical school. In fact, one in five medical students have a parent who is a physician⁴ and about three-fourths of students come from families whose income falls among the top two quintiles.⁵ Impoverished communities, which have a disproportionate share of Black and Brown people, cannot afford to take MCAT preparatory classes or to accept unpaid “resume building” opportunities. Many medical schools continue to place more weight on test scores and research/medical experiences, despite a shift to a more holistic review process. Institutions that have tried a different approach and accepted students from more diverse backgrounds may often overlook the challenges that URM students face while in medical school and fail to provide appropriate support resources.

The result is a failure to retain such students. A study conducted at Stony Brook (N.Y.) University showed that those underrepresented in medicine were six times more likely to get dismissed from medical school, and three times more likely to both withdraw or graduate beyond 4 years, compared with their White counterparts.⁶ This is a serious issue that needs to change on a structural and systemic level.

Any discussion of race and psychiatry must acknowledge psychiatry’s history of racism against Black and Brown communities to engage in racially informed discussions with our patients. Only then can we play a better role advocating against racism within the field in the future. Dating back to the 18th century, psychiatry has promoted ideologies that promote racism. Benjamin Rush, considered the “father of American Psychiatry,” believed that Black skin was a disease derived from leprosy called “negritude.” In the late 19th century, this twisted ideology continued with the invention of the term “drapetomania,” which was used to describe enslaved people who ran away as having a mental disorder.⁷ Black prisoners were subjected to experimental treatment with substances such as LSD and bulbocapnine to subdue them.⁸ This idea that minorities were dangerous and needed to be subdued translated into a higher number of schizophrenia diagnoses, particularly among Black men, as it was used as a tool to vilify them in the 1970s. Although schizophrenia is equally prevalent among Whites and non-Whites, Black people are four times more likely to be diagnosed, compared with their White counterparts, while Hispanics are three times more likely. Studies have shown that Black and Brown men are also more likely to receive higher doses of antipsychotics.⁹

Given this history, it is not surprising that Black and Brown representation within the field is lacking and that patients may be hesitant to share their feelings about race with us. While we can’t change history, we can take a stance condemning the harmful behavior of the past. The American Psychiatric Association issued an apology earlier this year to Black, Indigenous, and People of Color for its support in structural racism.¹⁰ This is a step in the right direction, but we need more than statements or performative actions. We need to amplify the voices of Black and Brown psychiatrists and patients, as well as highlight their current and past contributions to the field. While my educational experiences focused on the work of prominent White scholars, medical curricula should showcase the work of people like Solomon Carter Fuller, MD, a Black psychiatrist who was essential to understanding Alzheimer’s, or Joseph White, PhD, sometimes referred to as the “godfather of Black psychology.”¹¹

At times, I have found myself witness to situations where colleagues make statements that not only do not condemn racism, but in fact encourage it. I have unfortunately heard some use the all-too-familiar rhetoric of reverse racism, such as: “They just assume I am racist because I am a White male” or “They’re being racist against me” or statements like “Don’t you think it is far-fetched to believe she was just sitting on a college campus doing nothing when the police were called?” Rhetoric such as this is problematic to the field of psychiatry and medicine as a whole – and only serves to further invalidate the feelings of our Black and Brown patients. We must increase exposure and education regarding racism to address this, especially the meaning of microaggressions, a concept many fail to understand.

Attention to the subject of racism has increased within medical schools and residency training programs in the wake of George Floyd’s death. However, most programs often make these lectures optional or only have one to two limited sessions. Furthermore, many do not make it mandatory for faculty to attend; they are arguably the most in need of this training given that they set the precedent of how to practice psychiatry. Some institutions have incorporated comprehensive antiracist curriculums into medical training. One model that has been successful is the Social Justice and Health Equity program within Yale University’s psychiatry residency. The curriculum has four tracks:

• Structural competency, which focuses on the mental health impact of extraclinical structures, for example a patient’s neighborhood and associated barriers of access.
• Human experience, which explores the interaction of patients and providers and how biases play a role.
• Advocacy, which teaches residents the written and oral skills to lobby for patient interests on a community and legislative level.
• History of psychiatry, which focuses on understanding psychiatry’s prior role in racism.

In each track, there are group discussions, cases led by faculty, and meetings with community leaders. Through this curriculum, residents learn about power, privilege, and how to interact with and advocate for patients in a way that promotes equity, rather than racial disparity.^12,13 This is a model that other psychiatric residency programs can promote, emulate, and benefit from.

Educating ourselves will hopefully lead to a deeper introspection of how we interact with patients and if we are promoting antiracism through our attitude and actions. Reflecting on my own personal practice, I have noted that the interplay of race, mental health, and provider decision-making becomes particularly complex when dealing with situations in which a patient exhibits increased aggression or agitation. As a second-year psychiatric resident immersed in the inpatient world, I have become familiar with patients at higher risk and greater need. The first attempt toward de-escalation involves verbal cues without any other more intrusive measures. If that fails, intramuscular (IM) medications are typically considered. If a patient has a history of aggressive behavior, the threshold to use IM medications can decrease dramatically. This is mainly to protect ourselves and our nursing staff and to prioritize safety. While I understand this rationale, I wonder about the patient’s experience. What constitutes “aggressive” behavior? For patients who have had violence used against them because of their race or who have suffered from police brutality, having police present or threatening IM medications will increasingly trigger them and escalate the situation. The aftermath can deepen the distrust of psychiatry by Black and Brown people.

How do we then handle such situations in a way that both protects our staff from physical harm and protects our patients from racial trauma? While I don’t have a great answer, I think we can benefit from standardizing what we consider aggressive behavior and have specific criteria that patients need to exhibit before administering an IM medication. In addition, discussions with the team, including residents, nurses, and attending physicians, about how to address an emergent situation before it actually happens are essential. Specifically discussing the patient’s history and race and how it may affect the situation is not something to be shied away from. Lastly, in the event that an IM medication is administered and police are present, debriefing with the patient afterward is necessary. The patient may not be willing or able to listen to you or trust you, but taking accountability and acknowledging what happened, justified or not, is a part of the process of rebuilding rapport.

Both in the purview of the individual psychiatrist and the field of psychiatry as a whole, we need to examine our behavior and not be afraid to make changes for the betterment of our patients. We must learn to talk about race with our patients and in the process, advocate for more representation of Black and Brown psychiatrists, understanding the barriers faced by these communities when pursuing the medical field. We must educate ourselves on psychiatry’s history, and equip ourselves with knowledge and tools to promote antiracism and shape psychiatry’s future. We can then apply these very tools to challenging situations we may encounter daily with the ultimate goal of improving the mental health of our patients. This is the only way we will progress and ensure that psychiatry is an equitable, antiracist field. As Ibram X. Kendi, PhD, has written, “The heartbeat of antiracism is self-reflection, recognition, admission, and fundamentally self-critique.”
 

Dr. Malik is a second-year psychiatry resident at the University of California, San Diego. She has a background in policy and grassroots organizing through her time working at the National Coalition for the Homeless and the Women’s Law Project. Dr. Malik has no disclosures.

References

1. Wyse R et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2020 Oct;44(5):523-30.

2. Cooper LA et al. Ann Intern Med. 2003;139:907-15.

3. Pierre JM et al. Acad Psychiatry. 2017;41:226-32.

4. Hartocollis A. “Getting into med school without hard sciences.” New York Times. 2010 Jul 29.

5. AAMC. An updated look at the economic diversity of U.S. medical students. Analysis in Brief. 2018 Oct;18(5).

6. Rainey ML. How do we retain minority health professions students. In: Smedley BD et al. The right thing to do, the smart thing to do: Enhancing diversity in the health professions: Summary of the Symposium on Diversity in Health Professions in Honor of Herbert W. Nickens, M.D. Institute of Medicine. National Academies Press. 2001.

7. Geller J. “Structural racism in American psychiatry and APA: Part 1.” Psychiatric News. 2020 Jun 23.

8. Mohr CL and Gordon JE. Tulane: The emergence of a modern university, 1945-1980. Louisiana State University Press, Baton Rouge. 2001.

9. Metzl JM. The protest psychosis: How schizophrenia became a Black disease. Beacon Press. 2010.

10. APA’s apology to Black, indigenous and people of color for its support of structural racism in psychiatry. American Psychiatric Association. 2021 Jan 18.

11. Black pioneers in mental health. Mental Health America. 2021.

12. Belli B. For Yale’s emerging psychiatrists, confronting racism is in the curriculum. Yale News. 2020 Jul 30.

13. Jordan A and Jackson D. Social justice and health equity curriculum. Yale School of Medicine. 2019 Sep 24.

The tragic loss of three medical residents in our beloved South Bronx hospital shook us to the core. They were our colleagues and friends – promising young physicians whose lives and contributions to our hospital family will never be forgotten. We miss them and we grieve them.

We have been keenly aware of the growing trend of physician suicides across the country. That’s one of the reasons why, years ago, we established the nationally recognized Helping Healers Heal program across our health system and more recently expanded other mental health counseling and support to our frontline clinicians.

Our focus is wellness and prevention, as well as helping address the sadness, anxiety, and depression that so many of us experience after a traumatic event. During the surge of the COVID pandemic, these programs proved to be essential, as we expanded these services to all staff, not just those on the frontlines of patient care.

We share Dr. Pamela Wible’s concerns about the physician suicide crisis in this country. However, she misrepresented our residency program and made numerous statements that are false and simply hurtful.

Out of respect for our colleagues and their families, we cannot share everything that we know about this tragic and irreparable loss. But we must set the record straight about a number of incorrect references made by Dr. Wible:

1. We lost two residents to suicide. Though no less horrific, the third death was investigated and declared an accident by the police department.

2. Resident work hours and workload are closely monitored to follow guidance set by the New York State Department of Health and by ACGME. In fact, at the peak of the COVID pandemic, when we were caring for nearly 130 intubated patients at a time, we adopted a strict residency program schedule with built-in breaks and reduced shifts and hours. Even at that tasking time, no one worked more than 80 hours. Although the maximum number of patients assigned to an intern allowed by ACGME is 10, we rarely have more than five or six patients assigned to each of our interns.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The tragic loss of three medical residents in our beloved South Bronx hospital shook us to the core. They were our colleagues and friends – promising young physicians whose lives and contributions to our hospital family will never be forgotten. We miss them and we grieve them.

We have been keenly aware of the growing trend of physician suicides across the country. That’s one of the reasons why, years ago, we established the nationally recognized Helping Healers Heal program across our health system and more recently expanded other mental health counseling and support to our frontline clinicians.

Our focus is wellness and prevention, as well as helping address the sadness, anxiety, and depression that so many of us experience after a traumatic event. During the surge of the COVID pandemic, these programs proved to be essential, as we expanded these services to all staff, not just those on the frontlines of patient care.

We share Dr. Pamela Wible’s concerns about the physician suicide crisis in this country. However, she misrepresented our residency program and made numerous statements that are false and simply hurtful.

Out of respect for our colleagues and their families, we cannot share everything that we know about this tragic and irreparable loss. But we must set the record straight about a number of incorrect references made by Dr. Wible:

1. We lost two residents to suicide. Though no less horrific, the third death was investigated and declared an accident by the police department.

2. Resident work hours and workload are closely monitored to follow guidance set by the New York State Department of Health and by ACGME. In fact, at the peak of the COVID pandemic, when we were caring for nearly 130 intubated patients at a time, we adopted a strict residency program schedule with built-in breaks and reduced shifts and hours. Even at that tasking time, no one worked more than 80 hours. Although the maximum number of patients assigned to an intern allowed by ACGME is 10, we rarely have more than five or six patients assigned to each of our interns.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

The tragic loss of three medical residents in our beloved South Bronx hospital shook us to the core. They were our colleagues and friends – promising young physicians whose lives and contributions to our hospital family will never be forgotten. We miss them and we grieve them.

We have been keenly aware of the growing trend of physician suicides across the country. That’s one of the reasons why, years ago, we established the nationally recognized Helping Healers Heal program across our health system and more recently expanded other mental health counseling and support to our frontline clinicians.

Our focus is wellness and prevention, as well as helping address the sadness, anxiety, and depression that so many of us experience after a traumatic event. During the surge of the COVID pandemic, these programs proved to be essential, as we expanded these services to all staff, not just those on the frontlines of patient care.

We share Dr. Pamela Wible’s concerns about the physician suicide crisis in this country. However, she misrepresented our residency program and made numerous statements that are false and simply hurtful.

Out of respect for our colleagues and their families, we cannot share everything that we know about this tragic and irreparable loss. But we must set the record straight about a number of incorrect references made by Dr. Wible:

1. We lost two residents to suicide. Though no less horrific, the third death was investigated and declared an accident by the police department.

2. Resident work hours and workload are closely monitored to follow guidance set by the New York State Department of Health and by ACGME. In fact, at the peak of the COVID pandemic, when we were caring for nearly 130 intubated patients at a time, we adopted a strict residency program schedule with built-in breaks and reduced shifts and hours. Even at that tasking time, no one worked more than 80 hours. Although the maximum number of patients assigned to an intern allowed by ACGME is 10, we rarely have more than five or six patients assigned to each of our interns.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Black individuals who received mental health services through a church-based program reported high levels of satisfaction, data from a small, qualitative study show.

“This model of providing mental health services adjacent to or supported by a trusted institution, with providers who may have a more nuanced and intimate knowledge of the experiences of and perceptions held by community members, may facilitate important therapy-mediating factors, such as trust,” wrote Angela Coombs, MD, of Columbia University, New York, and colleagues.

Black Americans continue to face barriers to mental health services, and fewer than one-third of Black Americans with a mental health condition receive formal mental health care, Dr. Coombs and colleagues reported. Barriers to treatment include stigma and distrust of medical institutions, and strategies are needed to address these barriers to improve access. Consequently, “one approach includes the development of mental health programming and supports with trusted institutions, such as churches,” they said. Data are limited, however, on the perspectives of individuals who have used church-based services.

In the study, published in Psychiatric Services, Dr. Coombs and colleagues recruited 15 adults aged 27-69 years who were receiving or had received mental health services at the HOPE (Healing On Purpose and Evolving) Center, a freestanding mental health clinic affiliated with the First Corinthian Baptist Church in Harlem, New York. At the time of the study in 2019, those attending the center (referred to as “innovators” rather than patients or clients to reduce stigma) received 10 free sessions of evidence-based psychotherapy.

Treatment included cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), religiously integrated CBT, and interpersonal psychotherapy (IPT) to individuals, couples, and families. Group psychotherapy also was an option. Clinicians at the HOPE Center included licensed social workers with doctoral and master’s-level degrees, as well as supervised social work student interns.

Study participants took part in a 30-minute interview, in person or by phone, with a female psychiatrist who was not employed by the HOPE Center or involved in treating the patients. There were 15 participants: 13 women and 2 men, with mean ages of 48 and 51 years, respectively; 14 identified as Black, non-Hispanic. Most (13 individuals) identified as heterosexual, 11 had never married, and 14 had some college or technical school education.

Notably, 11 participants reported attending church once a week, and 13 said they considered religion or spirituality highly important. Participants “reported that services that could integrate their spiritual beliefs with their current mental health challenges enhanced the therapeutic experience,” the researchers said.

Positive messaging about mental health care from the church and senior pastor also encouraged the participants to take advantage of the HOPE Center services.

As one participant said, “I’ve always believed that I can handle my own issues ... but listening to the pastor always talking about the [HOPE] Center and not to be ashamed if you have weaknesses, that’s when I said, ‘You know what, let me just start seeking mental health services because I really need [them].’ ”

Overall, study participants said that they learned skills during their therapy that they could apply in daily life, including recognizing cycles of unproductive behavior, processing traumatic experiences and learning self-love, and embracing meditation at home.

“A common theme among participants was that the HOPE Center provided them with tools to destress, process trauma, and manage anxiety,” the researchers wrote. In particular, several participants cited group sessions on teaching and practicing mindfulness as their favorite services. They described the HOPE Center as a positive, peaceful, and welcoming environment where they felt safe.

Cost issues were important as well. Participants noted that the HOPE Center’s ability to provide services that were free made it easier for them to attend. “Although participants said that it was helpful that the HOPE Center provided referrals to external providers and agencies for additional services, some said they wished that the HOPE Center would provide long-term therapy,” the researchers noted.

Overall, “most participants said that establishing more mental health resources within faith-based spaces could accelerate normalization of seeking and receiving mental health care within religious Black communities,” they said.

The study findings were limited by the absence of clinical data – and data on participants’ frequency and location of church attendance, the researchers noted. In addition, the positive results could be tied to selection bias, Dr. Coombs and colleagues said. Another possible limitation is the overrepresentation of cisgender women among the participants. Still, “the perspectives shared by participants suggest that this model of care may address several important barriers to care faced by some Black American populations,” the researchers wrote.
 

Bridging gap between spirituality and mental health

In an interview, Atasha Jordan, MD, said Black Americans with mental illnesses have long lacked equal access to mental health services. “However, in light of the COVID-19 pandemic, published studies have shown that rates of mental illness increased concurrently with a rise in spirituality and faith. That said, we currently live in a time where mental health and spirituality are more likely to intersect,” noted Dr. Jordan, of the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

She said it is not surprising that the study participants felt more comfortable receiving mental health services at a clinic that was church affiliated.

“We have known for years that people of faith are more likely to seek comfort for psychological distress from clergy, rather than mental health professionals. Providing a more familiar entry point to mental health services through a church-affiliated mental health clinic helps to bridge the existing gap between spirituality and mental health,” Dr. Jordan said. “For many Black Americans, spirituality is a central component of culturally-informed mental health care.

“Mental health providers may find improved service utilization and outcomes for their patients by collaborating with faith-based organizations or investing time to learn spiritually-based psychotherapies.”

Recently published data, notably a study published May 1, 2021, in Psychiatric Services, continue to support the existing knowledge “that many patients with psychiatric illnesses want increased attention paid to spirituality during their mental health care,” Dr. Jordan noted. “Moreover, they showed that nonreligious clinicians may be more apt than religious clinicians to provide objective, spiritually-oriented mental health care. In this vein, further research aimed at understanding the most effective methods to address spiritual health in times of mental distress can help all mental health providers better meet their patients’ psychiatric and psychological needs.”
 

Overcoming stigma, mistrust

During the pandemic, clinicians have seen an increase in mental health distress in the form of anxiety, depression, and trauma symptoms, Lorenzo Norris, MD, of George Washington University, Washington, said in an interview.

“Historically, African Americans have faced numerous barriers to mental health care, including stigma and mistrust of medical institutions,” Dr. Norris said. “At this time, perhaps more than in recent decades, novel ways of eliminating and navigating these barriers must be explored in an evidence-based fashion that will inform future interventions.”

Dr. Norris also found that the study findings make sense.

“Historically, the Black church has been a central institution in the community,” he said. “In my personal experience, the church served in a variety of roles, including but not limited to advocacy, employment, social services, peer support, and notably a trusted source of advice pertaining to health. In addition, Black churches may be in an ideal position to serve as culturally sensitive facilitators to build trust,” he said.

The study’s message for clinicians, according to Dr. Norris, is to “carefully consider partnering with faith-based organizations and community leaders if you want to supplement your efforts at decreasing mental health care disparities in the African American community.”

He pointed out, however, that in addition to the small number of participants, the study did not examine clinical outcomes. “So we must be careful how much we take from the initial conclusions,” Dr. Norris said.

Additional research is needed on a much larger scale to add support to the study findings, he said. “This study focused on one church and its particular program,” Dr. Norris noted. “There is likely a great deal of heterogeneity with Black churches and definitely among church members they serve,” he said. “Although it may be tempting to go with an ‘of course it will work’ approach, it is best to have additional qualitative and quantitative research of a much larger scale, with clinical controls that examine the ability of Black churches to address barriers African Americans face in receiving and utilizing mental health services,” he concluded.

Dr. Jordan disclosed receiving a 2021-2022 American Psychiatric Association/Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration Minority Fellowship Program grant to study mental health literacy in the Black church. Dr. Norris disclosed serving as CEO of the Cleveland Clergy Alliance, a nonprofit organization providing outreach assistance as a mechanism to help seniors and the disabled population through community programming. The study authors reported no disclosures.

Black individuals who received mental health services through a church-based program reported high levels of satisfaction, data from a small, qualitative study show.

“This model of providing mental health services adjacent to or supported by a trusted institution, with providers who may have a more nuanced and intimate knowledge of the experiences of and perceptions held by community members, may facilitate important therapy-mediating factors, such as trust,” wrote Angela Coombs, MD, of Columbia University, New York, and colleagues.

Black Americans continue to face barriers to mental health services, and fewer than one-third of Black Americans with a mental health condition receive formal mental health care, Dr. Coombs and colleagues reported. Barriers to treatment include stigma and distrust of medical institutions, and strategies are needed to address these barriers to improve access. Consequently, “one approach includes the development of mental health programming and supports with trusted institutions, such as churches,” they said. Data are limited, however, on the perspectives of individuals who have used church-based services.

In the study, published in Psychiatric Services, Dr. Coombs and colleagues recruited 15 adults aged 27-69 years who were receiving or had received mental health services at the HOPE (Healing On Purpose and Evolving) Center, a freestanding mental health clinic affiliated with the First Corinthian Baptist Church in Harlem, New York. At the time of the study in 2019, those attending the center (referred to as “innovators” rather than patients or clients to reduce stigma) received 10 free sessions of evidence-based psychotherapy.

Treatment included cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), religiously integrated CBT, and interpersonal psychotherapy (IPT) to individuals, couples, and families. Group psychotherapy also was an option. Clinicians at the HOPE Center included licensed social workers with doctoral and master’s-level degrees, as well as supervised social work student interns.

Study participants took part in a 30-minute interview, in person or by phone, with a female psychiatrist who was not employed by the HOPE Center or involved in treating the patients. There were 15 participants: 13 women and 2 men, with mean ages of 48 and 51 years, respectively; 14 identified as Black, non-Hispanic. Most (13 individuals) identified as heterosexual, 11 had never married, and 14 had some college or technical school education.

Notably, 11 participants reported attending church once a week, and 13 said they considered religion or spirituality highly important. Participants “reported that services that could integrate their spiritual beliefs with their current mental health challenges enhanced the therapeutic experience,” the researchers said.

Positive messaging about mental health care from the church and senior pastor also encouraged the participants to take advantage of the HOPE Center services.

As one participant said, “I’ve always believed that I can handle my own issues ... but listening to the pastor always talking about the [HOPE] Center and not to be ashamed if you have weaknesses, that’s when I said, ‘You know what, let me just start seeking mental health services because I really need [them].’ ”

Overall, study participants said that they learned skills during their therapy that they could apply in daily life, including recognizing cycles of unproductive behavior, processing traumatic experiences and learning self-love, and embracing meditation at home.

“A common theme among participants was that the HOPE Center provided them with tools to destress, process trauma, and manage anxiety,” the researchers wrote. In particular, several participants cited group sessions on teaching and practicing mindfulness as their favorite services. They described the HOPE Center as a positive, peaceful, and welcoming environment where they felt safe.

Cost issues were important as well. Participants noted that the HOPE Center’s ability to provide services that were free made it easier for them to attend. “Although participants said that it was helpful that the HOPE Center provided referrals to external providers and agencies for additional services, some said they wished that the HOPE Center would provide long-term therapy,” the researchers noted.

Overall, “most participants said that establishing more mental health resources within faith-based spaces could accelerate normalization of seeking and receiving mental health care within religious Black communities,” they said.

The study findings were limited by the absence of clinical data – and data on participants’ frequency and location of church attendance, the researchers noted. In addition, the positive results could be tied to selection bias, Dr. Coombs and colleagues said. Another possible limitation is the overrepresentation of cisgender women among the participants. Still, “the perspectives shared by participants suggest that this model of care may address several important barriers to care faced by some Black American populations,” the researchers wrote.
 

Bridging gap between spirituality and mental health

In an interview, Atasha Jordan, MD, said Black Americans with mental illnesses have long lacked equal access to mental health services. “However, in light of the COVID-19 pandemic, published studies have shown that rates of mental illness increased concurrently with a rise in spirituality and faith. That said, we currently live in a time where mental health and spirituality are more likely to intersect,” noted Dr. Jordan, of the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

She said it is not surprising that the study participants felt more comfortable receiving mental health services at a clinic that was church affiliated.

“We have known for years that people of faith are more likely to seek comfort for psychological distress from clergy, rather than mental health professionals. Providing a more familiar entry point to mental health services through a church-affiliated mental health clinic helps to bridge the existing gap between spirituality and mental health,” Dr. Jordan said. “For many Black Americans, spirituality is a central component of culturally-informed mental health care.

“Mental health providers may find improved service utilization and outcomes for their patients by collaborating with faith-based organizations or investing time to learn spiritually-based psychotherapies.”

Recently published data, notably a study published May 1, 2021, in Psychiatric Services, continue to support the existing knowledge “that many patients with psychiatric illnesses want increased attention paid to spirituality during their mental health care,” Dr. Jordan noted. “Moreover, they showed that nonreligious clinicians may be more apt than religious clinicians to provide objective, spiritually-oriented mental health care. In this vein, further research aimed at understanding the most effective methods to address spiritual health in times of mental distress can help all mental health providers better meet their patients’ psychiatric and psychological needs.”
 

Overcoming stigma, mistrust

During the pandemic, clinicians have seen an increase in mental health distress in the form of anxiety, depression, and trauma symptoms, Lorenzo Norris, MD, of George Washington University, Washington, said in an interview.

“Historically, African Americans have faced numerous barriers to mental health care, including stigma and mistrust of medical institutions,” Dr. Norris said. “At this time, perhaps more than in recent decades, novel ways of eliminating and navigating these barriers must be explored in an evidence-based fashion that will inform future interventions.”

Dr. Norris also found that the study findings make sense.

“Historically, the Black church has been a central institution in the community,” he said. “In my personal experience, the church served in a variety of roles, including but not limited to advocacy, employment, social services, peer support, and notably a trusted source of advice pertaining to health. In addition, Black churches may be in an ideal position to serve as culturally sensitive facilitators to build trust,” he said.

The study’s message for clinicians, according to Dr. Norris, is to “carefully consider partnering with faith-based organizations and community leaders if you want to supplement your efforts at decreasing mental health care disparities in the African American community.”

He pointed out, however, that in addition to the small number of participants, the study did not examine clinical outcomes. “So we must be careful how much we take from the initial conclusions,” Dr. Norris said.

Additional research is needed on a much larger scale to add support to the study findings, he said. “This study focused on one church and its particular program,” Dr. Norris noted. “There is likely a great deal of heterogeneity with Black churches and definitely among church members they serve,” he said. “Although it may be tempting to go with an ‘of course it will work’ approach, it is best to have additional qualitative and quantitative research of a much larger scale, with clinical controls that examine the ability of Black churches to address barriers African Americans face in receiving and utilizing mental health services,” he concluded.

Dr. Jordan disclosed receiving a 2021-2022 American Psychiatric Association/Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration Minority Fellowship Program grant to study mental health literacy in the Black church. Dr. Norris disclosed serving as CEO of the Cleveland Clergy Alliance, a nonprofit organization providing outreach assistance as a mechanism to help seniors and the disabled population through community programming. The study authors reported no disclosures.

Black individuals who received mental health services through a church-based program reported high levels of satisfaction, data from a small, qualitative study show.

“This model of providing mental health services adjacent to or supported by a trusted institution, with providers who may have a more nuanced and intimate knowledge of the experiences of and perceptions held by community members, may facilitate important therapy-mediating factors, such as trust,” wrote Angela Coombs, MD, of Columbia University, New York, and colleagues.

Black Americans continue to face barriers to mental health services, and fewer than one-third of Black Americans with a mental health condition receive formal mental health care, Dr. Coombs and colleagues reported. Barriers to treatment include stigma and distrust of medical institutions, and strategies are needed to address these barriers to improve access. Consequently, “one approach includes the development of mental health programming and supports with trusted institutions, such as churches,” they said. Data are limited, however, on the perspectives of individuals who have used church-based services.

In the study, published in Psychiatric Services, Dr. Coombs and colleagues recruited 15 adults aged 27-69 years who were receiving or had received mental health services at the HOPE (Healing On Purpose and Evolving) Center, a freestanding mental health clinic affiliated with the First Corinthian Baptist Church in Harlem, New York. At the time of the study in 2019, those attending the center (referred to as “innovators” rather than patients or clients to reduce stigma) received 10 free sessions of evidence-based psychotherapy.

Treatment included cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), religiously integrated CBT, and interpersonal psychotherapy (IPT) to individuals, couples, and families. Group psychotherapy also was an option. Clinicians at the HOPE Center included licensed social workers with doctoral and master’s-level degrees, as well as supervised social work student interns.

Study participants took part in a 30-minute interview, in person or by phone, with a female psychiatrist who was not employed by the HOPE Center or involved in treating the patients. There were 15 participants: 13 women and 2 men, with mean ages of 48 and 51 years, respectively; 14 identified as Black, non-Hispanic. Most (13 individuals) identified as heterosexual, 11 had never married, and 14 had some college or technical school education.

Notably, 11 participants reported attending church once a week, and 13 said they considered religion or spirituality highly important. Participants “reported that services that could integrate their spiritual beliefs with their current mental health challenges enhanced the therapeutic experience,” the researchers said.

Positive messaging about mental health care from the church and senior pastor also encouraged the participants to take advantage of the HOPE Center services.

As one participant said, “I’ve always believed that I can handle my own issues ... but listening to the pastor always talking about the [HOPE] Center and not to be ashamed if you have weaknesses, that’s when I said, ‘You know what, let me just start seeking mental health services because I really need [them].’ ”

Overall, study participants said that they learned skills during their therapy that they could apply in daily life, including recognizing cycles of unproductive behavior, processing traumatic experiences and learning self-love, and embracing meditation at home.

“A common theme among participants was that the HOPE Center provided them with tools to destress, process trauma, and manage anxiety,” the researchers wrote. In particular, several participants cited group sessions on teaching and practicing mindfulness as their favorite services. They described the HOPE Center as a positive, peaceful, and welcoming environment where they felt safe.

Cost issues were important as well. Participants noted that the HOPE Center’s ability to provide services that were free made it easier for them to attend. “Although participants said that it was helpful that the HOPE Center provided referrals to external providers and agencies for additional services, some said they wished that the HOPE Center would provide long-term therapy,” the researchers noted.

Overall, “most participants said that establishing more mental health resources within faith-based spaces could accelerate normalization of seeking and receiving mental health care within religious Black communities,” they said.

The study findings were limited by the absence of clinical data – and data on participants’ frequency and location of church attendance, the researchers noted. In addition, the positive results could be tied to selection bias, Dr. Coombs and colleagues said. Another possible limitation is the overrepresentation of cisgender women among the participants. Still, “the perspectives shared by participants suggest that this model of care may address several important barriers to care faced by some Black American populations,” the researchers wrote.
 

Bridging gap between spirituality and mental health

In an interview, Atasha Jordan, MD, said Black Americans with mental illnesses have long lacked equal access to mental health services. “However, in light of the COVID-19 pandemic, published studies have shown that rates of mental illness increased concurrently with a rise in spirituality and faith. That said, we currently live in a time where mental health and spirituality are more likely to intersect,” noted Dr. Jordan, of the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

She said it is not surprising that the study participants felt more comfortable receiving mental health services at a clinic that was church affiliated.

“We have known for years that people of faith are more likely to seek comfort for psychological distress from clergy, rather than mental health professionals. Providing a more familiar entry point to mental health services through a church-affiliated mental health clinic helps to bridge the existing gap between spirituality and mental health,” Dr. Jordan said. “For many Black Americans, spirituality is a central component of culturally-informed mental health care.

“Mental health providers may find improved service utilization and outcomes for their patients by collaborating with faith-based organizations or investing time to learn spiritually-based psychotherapies.”

Recently published data, notably a study published May 1, 2021, in Psychiatric Services, continue to support the existing knowledge “that many patients with psychiatric illnesses want increased attention paid to spirituality during their mental health care,” Dr. Jordan noted. “Moreover, they showed that nonreligious clinicians may be more apt than religious clinicians to provide objective, spiritually-oriented mental health care. In this vein, further research aimed at understanding the most effective methods to address spiritual health in times of mental distress can help all mental health providers better meet their patients’ psychiatric and psychological needs.”
 

Overcoming stigma, mistrust

During the pandemic, clinicians have seen an increase in mental health distress in the form of anxiety, depression, and trauma symptoms, Lorenzo Norris, MD, of George Washington University, Washington, said in an interview.

“Historically, African Americans have faced numerous barriers to mental health care, including stigma and mistrust of medical institutions,” Dr. Norris said. “At this time, perhaps more than in recent decades, novel ways of eliminating and navigating these barriers must be explored in an evidence-based fashion that will inform future interventions.”

Dr. Norris also found that the study findings make sense.

“Historically, the Black church has been a central institution in the community,” he said. “In my personal experience, the church served in a variety of roles, including but not limited to advocacy, employment, social services, peer support, and notably a trusted source of advice pertaining to health. In addition, Black churches may be in an ideal position to serve as culturally sensitive facilitators to build trust,” he said.

The study’s message for clinicians, according to Dr. Norris, is to “carefully consider partnering with faith-based organizations and community leaders if you want to supplement your efforts at decreasing mental health care disparities in the African American community.”

He pointed out, however, that in addition to the small number of participants, the study did not examine clinical outcomes. “So we must be careful how much we take from the initial conclusions,” Dr. Norris said.

Additional research is needed on a much larger scale to add support to the study findings, he said. “This study focused on one church and its particular program,” Dr. Norris noted. “There is likely a great deal of heterogeneity with Black churches and definitely among church members they serve,” he said. “Although it may be tempting to go with an ‘of course it will work’ approach, it is best to have additional qualitative and quantitative research of a much larger scale, with clinical controls that examine the ability of Black churches to address barriers African Americans face in receiving and utilizing mental health services,” he concluded.

Dr. Jordan disclosed receiving a 2021-2022 American Psychiatric Association/Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration Minority Fellowship Program grant to study mental health literacy in the Black church. Dr. Norris disclosed serving as CEO of the Cleveland Clergy Alliance, a nonprofit organization providing outreach assistance as a mechanism to help seniors and the disabled population through community programming. The study authors reported no disclosures.

COVID-19’s ever-changing trajectory has led to a notable rise in anxiety-related disorders in the United States. The average share of U.S. adults reporting symptoms of anxiety and or depressive disorder rose from 11% in 2019 to more than 41% in January 2021, according to a report from the Kaiser Family Foundation.

With the arrival of vaccines, Elspeth Cameron Ritchie, MD, MPH, chair of psychiatry at Medstar Washington (D.C.) Hospital Center, has noticed a shift in patients’ fears and concerns. In an interview, she explained how anxiety in patients has evolved along with the pandemic. She also offered strategies for gaining control, engaging with community, and managing anxiety.
 

Question: When you see patients at this point in the pandemic, what do you ask them?

Answer: I ask them how the pandemic has affected them. Responses have changed over time. In the beginning, I saw a lot of fear, dread of the unknown, a lot of frustration about being in lockdown. As the vaccines have come in and taken hold, there is both a sense of relief, but still a lot of anxiety. Part of that is we’re getting different messages and very much changing messages over time. One day, we were still in a lockdown mode, and then a week later, we were told: If you’re vaccinated, take off your masks and do whatever you want to do. Then there’s the people who are unvaccinated, and we’re also seeing the Delta variant taking hold in the rest of the world. There’s a lot of anxiety, fear, and some depression, although that’s gotten better with the vaccine.

Q: How do we distinguish between reasonable or rational anxiety and excessive or irrational anxiety?

A: There’s not a bright line between them. What’s rational for one person is not rational for another. What we’ve seen is a spectrum. A rational anxiety is: “I’m not ready to go to a party.” Irrational represents all these crazy theories that are made up, such as putting a microchip into your arm with the vaccine so that the government can track you.

Q: How do you talk to these people thinking irrational thoughts?

A: You must listen to them and not just shut them down. Work with them. Many people with irrational thoughts, or believe in conspiracy theories, may not want to go near a psychiatrist. But there’s also the patients in the psychiatric ward who believe COVID doesn’t exist and there’s government plots. Like any other delusional material, we work with this by talking to these patients and using medication as appropriate.

Q: Do you support prescribing medication for those patients who continue to experience anxiety that is irrational?

A: Patients based in inpatient psychiatry are usually delusional. The medication we usually prescribe for these patients is antipsychotics. If it’s an outpatient who’s anxious about COVID, but has rational anxiety, we usually use antidepressants or antianxiety agents such as Zoloft, Paxil, or Lexapro.

Q: What other strategies can psychiatrists share with patients?

A: What I’ve seen throughout COVID is often an overwhelming sense of dread and inability to control the situation. I tell patients to do things they can control. You can go out and get exercise. Especially during the winter, I recommend that people take a walk and get some sunshine.

It also helps with anxiety to reach out and help someone else. Is there a neighbor you’re concerned about? By and large, this is something many communities have done well. The challenge is we’ve been avoiding each other physically for a long time. So, some of the standard ways of helping each other out, like volunteering at a food bank, have been a little problematic. But there are ways to have minimal people on staff to reduce exposure.

One thing I recommend with any type of anxiety is to learn how to control your breathing. Take breaths through the nose several times a day and teach yourself how to slow down. Another thing that helps many people is contact with animals – especially horses, dogs, and cats. You may not be able to adopt an animal, but you could work at a rescue shelter or other facilities. People can benefit from the nonverbal cues of an animal. A friend of mine got a shelter cat. It sleeps with her and licks her when she feels anxious.

Meditation and yoga are also useful. This is not for everyone, but it’s a way to turn down the level of “buzz” or anxiety. Don’t overdo it on caffeine or other things that increase anxiety. I would stay away from illicit drugs, as they increase anxiety.
 

Q: What do you say to patients to give them a sense of hope?

A: A lot of people aren’t ready to return to normal; they want to keep the social isolation, the masks, the working from home. We need to show patients what they have control over to minimize their own risk. For example, if they want to wear a mask, then they should wear one. Patients also really like the option of telehealth appointments.

Another way to cope is to identify what’s better about the way things are now and concentrate on those improvements. Here in Maryland, the traffic is so much better in the morning than it once was. There are things I don’t miss, like going to the airport and waiting 5 hours for a flight.
 

Q: What advice can you give psychiatrists who are experiencing anxiety?

A: We must manage our own anxiety so we can help our patients. Strategies I’ve mentioned are also helpful to psychiatrists or other health care professionals (such as) taking a walk, getting exercise, controlling what you can control. For me, it’s getting dressed, going to work, seeing patients. Having a daily structure, a routine, is important. Many people struggled with this at first. They were working from home and didn’t get much done; they did too much videogaming. It helps to set regular appointments if you’re working from home.

Pre-COVID, many of us got a lot out of our professional meetings. We saw friends there. Now they’re either canceled or we’re doing them virtually, which isn’t the same thing. I think our profession could do a better job of reaching out to each other. We’re used to seeing each other once or twice a year at conventions. I’ve since found it hard to reach out to my colleagues via email. And everyone is tired of Zoom.

If they’re local, ask them to do a safe outdoor activity, a happy hour, a walk. If they’re not, maybe engage with them through a postcard or a phone call.

My colleagues and I go for walks at lunch. There’s a fishpond nearby and we talk to the fish and get a little silly. We sometimes take fish nets with us. People ask what the fish nets are for and we’ll say, “we’re chasing COVID away.”

Dr. Ritchie reported no conflicts of interest.

COVID-19’s ever-changing trajectory has led to a notable rise in anxiety-related disorders in the United States. The average share of U.S. adults reporting symptoms of anxiety and or depressive disorder rose from 11% in 2019 to more than 41% in January 2021, according to a report from the Kaiser Family Foundation.

With the arrival of vaccines, Elspeth Cameron Ritchie, MD, MPH, chair of psychiatry at Medstar Washington (D.C.) Hospital Center, has noticed a shift in patients’ fears and concerns. In an interview, she explained how anxiety in patients has evolved along with the pandemic. She also offered strategies for gaining control, engaging with community, and managing anxiety.
 

Question: When you see patients at this point in the pandemic, what do you ask them?

Answer: I ask them how the pandemic has affected them. Responses have changed over time. In the beginning, I saw a lot of fear, dread of the unknown, a lot of frustration about being in lockdown. As the vaccines have come in and taken hold, there is both a sense of relief, but still a lot of anxiety. Part of that is we’re getting different messages and very much changing messages over time. One day, we were still in a lockdown mode, and then a week later, we were told: If you’re vaccinated, take off your masks and do whatever you want to do. Then there’s the people who are unvaccinated, and we’re also seeing the Delta variant taking hold in the rest of the world. There’s a lot of anxiety, fear, and some depression, although that’s gotten better with the vaccine.

Q: How do we distinguish between reasonable or rational anxiety and excessive or irrational anxiety?

A: There’s not a bright line between them. What’s rational for one person is not rational for another. What we’ve seen is a spectrum. A rational anxiety is: “I’m not ready to go to a party.” Irrational represents all these crazy theories that are made up, such as putting a microchip into your arm with the vaccine so that the government can track you.

Q: How do you talk to these people thinking irrational thoughts?

A: You must listen to them and not just shut them down. Work with them. Many people with irrational thoughts, or believe in conspiracy theories, may not want to go near a psychiatrist. But there’s also the patients in the psychiatric ward who believe COVID doesn’t exist and there’s government plots. Like any other delusional material, we work with this by talking to these patients and using medication as appropriate.

Q: Do you support prescribing medication for those patients who continue to experience anxiety that is irrational?

A: Patients based in inpatient psychiatry are usually delusional. The medication we usually prescribe for these patients is antipsychotics. If it’s an outpatient who’s anxious about COVID, but has rational anxiety, we usually use antidepressants or antianxiety agents such as Zoloft, Paxil, or Lexapro.

Q: What other strategies can psychiatrists share with patients?

A: What I’ve seen throughout COVID is often an overwhelming sense of dread and inability to control the situation. I tell patients to do things they can control. You can go out and get exercise. Especially during the winter, I recommend that people take a walk and get some sunshine.

It also helps with anxiety to reach out and help someone else. Is there a neighbor you’re concerned about? By and large, this is something many communities have done well. The challenge is we’ve been avoiding each other physically for a long time. So, some of the standard ways of helping each other out, like volunteering at a food bank, have been a little problematic. But there are ways to have minimal people on staff to reduce exposure.

One thing I recommend with any type of anxiety is to learn how to control your breathing. Take breaths through the nose several times a day and teach yourself how to slow down. Another thing that helps many people is contact with animals – especially horses, dogs, and cats. You may not be able to adopt an animal, but you could work at a rescue shelter or other facilities. People can benefit from the nonverbal cues of an animal. A friend of mine got a shelter cat. It sleeps with her and licks her when she feels anxious.

Meditation and yoga are also useful. This is not for everyone, but it’s a way to turn down the level of “buzz” or anxiety. Don’t overdo it on caffeine or other things that increase anxiety. I would stay away from illicit drugs, as they increase anxiety.
 

Q: What do you say to patients to give them a sense of hope?

A: A lot of people aren’t ready to return to normal; they want to keep the social isolation, the masks, the working from home. We need to show patients what they have control over to minimize their own risk. For example, if they want to wear a mask, then they should wear one. Patients also really like the option of telehealth appointments.

Another way to cope is to identify what’s better about the way things are now and concentrate on those improvements. Here in Maryland, the traffic is so much better in the morning than it once was. There are things I don’t miss, like going to the airport and waiting 5 hours for a flight.
 

Q: What advice can you give psychiatrists who are experiencing anxiety?

A: We must manage our own anxiety so we can help our patients. Strategies I’ve mentioned are also helpful to psychiatrists or other health care professionals (such as) taking a walk, getting exercise, controlling what you can control. For me, it’s getting dressed, going to work, seeing patients. Having a daily structure, a routine, is important. Many people struggled with this at first. They were working from home and didn’t get much done; they did too much videogaming. It helps to set regular appointments if you’re working from home.

Pre-COVID, many of us got a lot out of our professional meetings. We saw friends there. Now they’re either canceled or we’re doing them virtually, which isn’t the same thing. I think our profession could do a better job of reaching out to each other. We’re used to seeing each other once or twice a year at conventions. I’ve since found it hard to reach out to my colleagues via email. And everyone is tired of Zoom.

If they’re local, ask them to do a safe outdoor activity, a happy hour, a walk. If they’re not, maybe engage with them through a postcard or a phone call.

My colleagues and I go for walks at lunch. There’s a fishpond nearby and we talk to the fish and get a little silly. We sometimes take fish nets with us. People ask what the fish nets are for and we’ll say, “we’re chasing COVID away.”

Dr. Ritchie reported no conflicts of interest.

COVID-19’s ever-changing trajectory has led to a notable rise in anxiety-related disorders in the United States. The average share of U.S. adults reporting symptoms of anxiety and or depressive disorder rose from 11% in 2019 to more than 41% in January 2021, according to a report from the Kaiser Family Foundation.

With the arrival of vaccines, Elspeth Cameron Ritchie, MD, MPH, chair of psychiatry at Medstar Washington (D.C.) Hospital Center, has noticed a shift in patients’ fears and concerns. In an interview, she explained how anxiety in patients has evolved along with the pandemic. She also offered strategies for gaining control, engaging with community, and managing anxiety.
 

Question: When you see patients at this point in the pandemic, what do you ask them?

Answer: I ask them how the pandemic has affected them. Responses have changed over time. In the beginning, I saw a lot of fear, dread of the unknown, a lot of frustration about being in lockdown. As the vaccines have come in and taken hold, there is both a sense of relief, but still a lot of anxiety. Part of that is we’re getting different messages and very much changing messages over time. One day, we were still in a lockdown mode, and then a week later, we were told: If you’re vaccinated, take off your masks and do whatever you want to do. Then there’s the people who are unvaccinated, and we’re also seeing the Delta variant taking hold in the rest of the world. There’s a lot of anxiety, fear, and some depression, although that’s gotten better with the vaccine.

Q: How do we distinguish between reasonable or rational anxiety and excessive or irrational anxiety?

A: There’s not a bright line between them. What’s rational for one person is not rational for another. What we’ve seen is a spectrum. A rational anxiety is: “I’m not ready to go to a party.” Irrational represents all these crazy theories that are made up, such as putting a microchip into your arm with the vaccine so that the government can track you.

Q: How do you talk to these people thinking irrational thoughts?

A: You must listen to them and not just shut them down. Work with them. Many people with irrational thoughts, or believe in conspiracy theories, may not want to go near a psychiatrist. But there’s also the patients in the psychiatric ward who believe COVID doesn’t exist and there’s government plots. Like any other delusional material, we work with this by talking to these patients and using medication as appropriate.

Q: Do you support prescribing medication for those patients who continue to experience anxiety that is irrational?

A: Patients based in inpatient psychiatry are usually delusional. The medication we usually prescribe for these patients is antipsychotics. If it’s an outpatient who’s anxious about COVID, but has rational anxiety, we usually use antidepressants or antianxiety agents such as Zoloft, Paxil, or Lexapro.

Q: What other strategies can psychiatrists share with patients?

A: What I’ve seen throughout COVID is often an overwhelming sense of dread and inability to control the situation. I tell patients to do things they can control. You can go out and get exercise. Especially during the winter, I recommend that people take a walk and get some sunshine.

It also helps with anxiety to reach out and help someone else. Is there a neighbor you’re concerned about? By and large, this is something many communities have done well. The challenge is we’ve been avoiding each other physically for a long time. So, some of the standard ways of helping each other out, like volunteering at a food bank, have been a little problematic. But there are ways to have minimal people on staff to reduce exposure.

One thing I recommend with any type of anxiety is to learn how to control your breathing. Take breaths through the nose several times a day and teach yourself how to slow down. Another thing that helps many people is contact with animals – especially horses, dogs, and cats. You may not be able to adopt an animal, but you could work at a rescue shelter or other facilities. People can benefit from the nonverbal cues of an animal. A friend of mine got a shelter cat. It sleeps with her and licks her when she feels anxious.

Meditation and yoga are also useful. This is not for everyone, but it’s a way to turn down the level of “buzz” or anxiety. Don’t overdo it on caffeine or other things that increase anxiety. I would stay away from illicit drugs, as they increase anxiety.
 

Q: What do you say to patients to give them a sense of hope?

A: A lot of people aren’t ready to return to normal; they want to keep the social isolation, the masks, the working from home. We need to show patients what they have control over to minimize their own risk. For example, if they want to wear a mask, then they should wear one. Patients also really like the option of telehealth appointments.

Another way to cope is to identify what’s better about the way things are now and concentrate on those improvements. Here in Maryland, the traffic is so much better in the morning than it once was. There are things I don’t miss, like going to the airport and waiting 5 hours for a flight.
 

Q: What advice can you give psychiatrists who are experiencing anxiety?

A: We must manage our own anxiety so we can help our patients. Strategies I’ve mentioned are also helpful to psychiatrists or other health care professionals (such as) taking a walk, getting exercise, controlling what you can control. For me, it’s getting dressed, going to work, seeing patients. Having a daily structure, a routine, is important. Many people struggled with this at first. They were working from home and didn’t get much done; they did too much videogaming. It helps to set regular appointments if you’re working from home.

Pre-COVID, many of us got a lot out of our professional meetings. We saw friends there. Now they’re either canceled or we’re doing them virtually, which isn’t the same thing. I think our profession could do a better job of reaching out to each other. We’re used to seeing each other once or twice a year at conventions. I’ve since found it hard to reach out to my colleagues via email. And everyone is tired of Zoom.

If they’re local, ask them to do a safe outdoor activity, a happy hour, a walk. If they’re not, maybe engage with them through a postcard or a phone call.

My colleagues and I go for walks at lunch. There’s a fishpond nearby and we talk to the fish and get a little silly. We sometimes take fish nets with us. People ask what the fish nets are for and we’ll say, “we’re chasing COVID away.”

Dr. Ritchie reported no conflicts of interest.

There was a time when I was on the cutting edge of psychiatry and technology. I was the first physician I knew to communicate with my patients by text messages, which left my colleagues aghast. And then, in 2006, I started a blog with two other psychiatrists; they chose to use pseudonyms, but I used my real (and uncommon) first name, well aware that this might leave me a bit exposed.

“You know your patients will read it,” one colleague said when I told him. Was that bad? I had no intention of writing anything I would be embarrassed to have others read. And yes, it’s obviously hard to know how people will react to what you say in another context, but I am a writer, and squelching this part of me would have left me feeling that I’m not living a genuine life. And so I write, always aware that others may be watching over my shoulder.

Social media has also been a part of my life. It is therefore with great interest that I took note of a new trend: Several of my psychiatrist colleagues were taking to TikTok to share their personal experiences in ways that probably would have been unthinkable just a few years past.
 

Psychiatry finds an unexpected new platform

TikTok is an app platform for sharing short-form videos, not the written word. It’s dominated by song and dance videos, sometimes lip-synced, and often recorded by the user holding a phone. The videos are brief, lasting mere seconds to a minute.

TikTok was launched in China in 2016 and became available worldwide in 2018. Since that time, it’s primarily become a venue for younger people, with 41% of users in the 16- to 24-year-old age range. They are skilled at navigating TikTok’s truly overwhelming amount of content, something I have yet to comfortably master as an observer, much less as someone who creates content.

David Puder, MD (@dr.davidpuder) is a psychiatrist in Florida who has not shied away from TikTok. He started making videos on the platform in 2020 as a way to promote his Psychiatry & Psychotherapy Podcast. His videos are casual and informative, and his TikTok description reads: “I am trying to teach things to help you connect better with others.”

“TikTok became another way of promoting mental health ideas,” said Dr. Puder. “There is a lot of bad information out there and my overarching purpose is to try to get people excited about mental health.”

Dr. Puder has nearly 112,000 TikTok followers. There’s a mix of creativity and acting that goes into the production of his videos, which he tends to record from his office or car. They vary in content. Some include music, while others are seconds-long mini-lectures on psychiatric topics. Some are purely educational but can include a joke about how many narcissists it takes to screw in a light bulb. They’re also where I learned that he is more likely to cry at sad movies than is his wife.

“I wish more doctors considered being out there,” Dr. Puder said, “but there is an internal resistance we have to exposing ourselves.”

TikTok and podcasting have been positive experiences for him. “I get emails from followers with notes of gratitude, and l have gotten feedback that people have become mental health professionals because of my social media.”
 

TikTok’s psychiatrist sensation

Melissa Shepard, MD (@doctorshepard_md) is also a psychiatrist who posts content on TikTok. With over a million followers, Dr. Shepard is TikTok’s psychiatrist sensation. She started posting mental health information on Instagram, and then in December 2019 began to cross-post on TikTok. She estimates that she has put up hundreds of videos but does not have an exact number. The Today Show used one of her TikTok videos for a segment on teen mental health.

“It has been cool to contribute to the conversation in this kind of way,” Dr. Shepard said.

The media attention has been a mixed bag for Dr. Shepard. As anyone who talks about psychiatry on social media knows, there are people who are vocal about their antipsychiatry opinions, and Dr. Shepard has not been spared. Sometimes the feedback has been hostile or even threatening.

“There have been ups and downs,” she said. “I have thought about stopping, but then I get these amazing messages from people who tell me that my videos made them realize they needed help. So while it has been a bumpy ride, I feel like I’m doing something good.”

Dr. Shepard’s videos are more personal in that she has used TikTok as a forum to discuss her own mental health struggles. “It’s scary, but it has also been liberating. I want people to know that they can succeed and that we need to get rid of the stigma because it gets in the way. When I was suffering from panic attacks and depression, I thought I was the only medical student with these issues and it meant I couldn’t become a doctor.”

Dr. Shepard estimates that half of her patients found her on TikTok. “I always ask myself, would I be okay with my patients seeing this? My patients are younger and they like that I’m on social media. It makes them feel like they know me before they start treatment.”

As we were talking, Dr. Shepard made note of the fact that having a public persona does not fit in with the “blank slate” rules of a psychodynamic psychotherapy.

She had me wondering how those rules might have been constructed if the internet and social media had existed when psychoanalysis was just developing. Perhaps we’d all be clicking “follow” on Sigmund Freud’s TikTok account.Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore. She has no disclosures.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

There was a time when I was on the cutting edge of psychiatry and technology. I was the first physician I knew to communicate with my patients by text messages, which left my colleagues aghast. And then, in 2006, I started a blog with two other psychiatrists; they chose to use pseudonyms, but I used my real (and uncommon) first name, well aware that this might leave me a bit exposed.

“You know your patients will read it,” one colleague said when I told him. Was that bad? I had no intention of writing anything I would be embarrassed to have others read. And yes, it’s obviously hard to know how people will react to what you say in another context, but I am a writer, and squelching this part of me would have left me feeling that I’m not living a genuine life. And so I write, always aware that others may be watching over my shoulder.

Social media has also been a part of my life. It is therefore with great interest that I took note of a new trend: Several of my psychiatrist colleagues were taking to TikTok to share their personal experiences in ways that probably would have been unthinkable just a few years past.
 

Psychiatry finds an unexpected new platform

TikTok is an app platform for sharing short-form videos, not the written word. It’s dominated by song and dance videos, sometimes lip-synced, and often recorded by the user holding a phone. The videos are brief, lasting mere seconds to a minute.

TikTok was launched in China in 2016 and became available worldwide in 2018. Since that time, it’s primarily become a venue for younger people, with 41% of users in the 16- to 24-year-old age range. They are skilled at navigating TikTok’s truly overwhelming amount of content, something I have yet to comfortably master as an observer, much less as someone who creates content.

David Puder, MD (@dr.davidpuder) is a psychiatrist in Florida who has not shied away from TikTok. He started making videos on the platform in 2020 as a way to promote his Psychiatry & Psychotherapy Podcast. His videos are casual and informative, and his TikTok description reads: “I am trying to teach things to help you connect better with others.”

“TikTok became another way of promoting mental health ideas,” said Dr. Puder. “There is a lot of bad information out there and my overarching purpose is to try to get people excited about mental health.”

Dr. Puder has nearly 112,000 TikTok followers. There’s a mix of creativity and acting that goes into the production of his videos, which he tends to record from his office or car. They vary in content. Some include music, while others are seconds-long mini-lectures on psychiatric topics. Some are purely educational but can include a joke about how many narcissists it takes to screw in a light bulb. They’re also where I learned that he is more likely to cry at sad movies than is his wife.

“I wish more doctors considered being out there,” Dr. Puder said, “but there is an internal resistance we have to exposing ourselves.”

TikTok and podcasting have been positive experiences for him. “I get emails from followers with notes of gratitude, and l have gotten feedback that people have become mental health professionals because of my social media.”
 

TikTok’s psychiatrist sensation

Melissa Shepard, MD (@doctorshepard_md) is also a psychiatrist who posts content on TikTok. With over a million followers, Dr. Shepard is TikTok’s psychiatrist sensation. She started posting mental health information on Instagram, and then in December 2019 began to cross-post on TikTok. She estimates that she has put up hundreds of videos but does not have an exact number. The Today Show used one of her TikTok videos for a segment on teen mental health.

“It has been cool to contribute to the conversation in this kind of way,” Dr. Shepard said.

The media attention has been a mixed bag for Dr. Shepard. As anyone who talks about psychiatry on social media knows, there are people who are vocal about their antipsychiatry opinions, and Dr. Shepard has not been spared. Sometimes the feedback has been hostile or even threatening.

“There have been ups and downs,” she said. “I have thought about stopping, but then I get these amazing messages from people who tell me that my videos made them realize they needed help. So while it has been a bumpy ride, I feel like I’m doing something good.”

Dr. Shepard’s videos are more personal in that she has used TikTok as a forum to discuss her own mental health struggles. “It’s scary, but it has also been liberating. I want people to know that they can succeed and that we need to get rid of the stigma because it gets in the way. When I was suffering from panic attacks and depression, I thought I was the only medical student with these issues and it meant I couldn’t become a doctor.”

Dr. Shepard estimates that half of her patients found her on TikTok. “I always ask myself, would I be okay with my patients seeing this? My patients are younger and they like that I’m on social media. It makes them feel like they know me before they start treatment.”

As we were talking, Dr. Shepard made note of the fact that having a public persona does not fit in with the “blank slate” rules of a psychodynamic psychotherapy.

She had me wondering how those rules might have been constructed if the internet and social media had existed when psychoanalysis was just developing. Perhaps we’d all be clicking “follow” on Sigmund Freud’s TikTok account.Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore. She has no disclosures.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

There was a time when I was on the cutting edge of psychiatry and technology. I was the first physician I knew to communicate with my patients by text messages, which left my colleagues aghast. And then, in 2006, I started a blog with two other psychiatrists; they chose to use pseudonyms, but I used my real (and uncommon) first name, well aware that this might leave me a bit exposed.

“You know your patients will read it,” one colleague said when I told him. Was that bad? I had no intention of writing anything I would be embarrassed to have others read. And yes, it’s obviously hard to know how people will react to what you say in another context, but I am a writer, and squelching this part of me would have left me feeling that I’m not living a genuine life. And so I write, always aware that others may be watching over my shoulder.

Social media has also been a part of my life. It is therefore with great interest that I took note of a new trend: Several of my psychiatrist colleagues were taking to TikTok to share their personal experiences in ways that probably would have been unthinkable just a few years past.
 

Psychiatry finds an unexpected new platform

TikTok is an app platform for sharing short-form videos, not the written word. It’s dominated by song and dance videos, sometimes lip-synced, and often recorded by the user holding a phone. The videos are brief, lasting mere seconds to a minute.

TikTok was launched in China in 2016 and became available worldwide in 2018. Since that time, it’s primarily become a venue for younger people, with 41% of users in the 16- to 24-year-old age range. They are skilled at navigating TikTok’s truly overwhelming amount of content, something I have yet to comfortably master as an observer, much less as someone who creates content.

David Puder, MD (@dr.davidpuder) is a psychiatrist in Florida who has not shied away from TikTok. He started making videos on the platform in 2020 as a way to promote his Psychiatry & Psychotherapy Podcast. His videos are casual and informative, and his TikTok description reads: “I am trying to teach things to help you connect better with others.”

“TikTok became another way of promoting mental health ideas,” said Dr. Puder. “There is a lot of bad information out there and my overarching purpose is to try to get people excited about mental health.”

Dr. Puder has nearly 112,000 TikTok followers. There’s a mix of creativity and acting that goes into the production of his videos, which he tends to record from his office or car. They vary in content. Some include music, while others are seconds-long mini-lectures on psychiatric topics. Some are purely educational but can include a joke about how many narcissists it takes to screw in a light bulb. They’re also where I learned that he is more likely to cry at sad movies than is his wife.

“I wish more doctors considered being out there,” Dr. Puder said, “but there is an internal resistance we have to exposing ourselves.”

TikTok and podcasting have been positive experiences for him. “I get emails from followers with notes of gratitude, and l have gotten feedback that people have become mental health professionals because of my social media.”
 

TikTok’s psychiatrist sensation

Melissa Shepard, MD (@doctorshepard_md) is also a psychiatrist who posts content on TikTok. With over a million followers, Dr. Shepard is TikTok’s psychiatrist sensation. She started posting mental health information on Instagram, and then in December 2019 began to cross-post on TikTok. She estimates that she has put up hundreds of videos but does not have an exact number. The Today Show used one of her TikTok videos for a segment on teen mental health.

“It has been cool to contribute to the conversation in this kind of way,” Dr. Shepard said.

The media attention has been a mixed bag for Dr. Shepard. As anyone who talks about psychiatry on social media knows, there are people who are vocal about their antipsychiatry opinions, and Dr. Shepard has not been spared. Sometimes the feedback has been hostile or even threatening.

“There have been ups and downs,” she said. “I have thought about stopping, but then I get these amazing messages from people who tell me that my videos made them realize they needed help. So while it has been a bumpy ride, I feel like I’m doing something good.”

Dr. Shepard’s videos are more personal in that she has used TikTok as a forum to discuss her own mental health struggles. “It’s scary, but it has also been liberating. I want people to know that they can succeed and that we need to get rid of the stigma because it gets in the way. When I was suffering from panic attacks and depression, I thought I was the only medical student with these issues and it meant I couldn’t become a doctor.”

Dr. Shepard estimates that half of her patients found her on TikTok. “I always ask myself, would I be okay with my patients seeing this? My patients are younger and they like that I’m on social media. It makes them feel like they know me before they start treatment.”

As we were talking, Dr. Shepard made note of the fact that having a public persona does not fit in with the “blank slate” rules of a psychodynamic psychotherapy.

She had me wondering how those rules might have been constructed if the internet and social media had existed when psychoanalysis was just developing. Perhaps we’d all be clicking “follow” on Sigmund Freud’s TikTok account.Dr. Miller is a coauthor of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore. She has no disclosures.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

In combing the genome, scientists can use genetic clues to determine a person’s risk for psychiatric disease and even identify new drug targets. But the benefits of these discoveries will be limited to people of European descent.

Nearly 90% of participants in genome-wide association studies (GWASs), which search for gene variants linked to disease, are of European ancestry. This Eurocentric focus threatens to widen existing disparities in racial and ethnic mental health.

The significant downsides of genomics’ one-track mind

One obstacle hindering therapeutic advances in psychiatry is a shallow understanding of the mechanisms of disorders. “The biggest problem in terms of advancing research for mental health conditions is that we don’t understand the underlying biology,” says Laramie Duncan, PhD, assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford (Calif.) University. “Genetics is one of the best ways to systematically look for new clues about the underlying biology.”

At the advent of genomic research, scientists thought it best to study DNA from people of a single ancestry from one continent. “Researchers for a long time held the idea that it was going to be too complicated to include multiple ancestries in the first rounds of genetic analyses,” says Dr. Duncan.

Studying DNA from someone with ancestors from multiple parts of the world wasn’t compatible with methods used in the early days of GWASs. “Individual parts of a person’s DNA can be linked back to one region of the world or another, and most of our methods essentially assume that all of a person’s DNA came from one region of the world,” says Dr. Duncan.

Because many genes are usually involved in psychiatric disorders, scientists need large numbers of participants to detect uncommon, influential variants. Early research was concentrated in North America and Europe so that scientists could readily collect samples from people of European ancestry.

“It then went out of hand because it became routine practice to use only this one group, essentially White, European ancestry people,” says Karoline Kuchenbaecker, PhD, associate professor of psychiatry at University College London.

Yet findings from one population won’t necessarily translate to others. “And that’s exactly what has been shown,” says Dr. Teferra. Polygenic risk scores developed for schizophrenia from European samples, for example, perform poorly among people of African ancestry, although among Europeans, they are strongly effective at differentiating European individuals with and those without schizophrenia. Moreover, drugs that target a gene identified from studies in European populations may be harmful to other groups.

Studies drawn from a diverse pool of participants would benefit a wider swath of humanity. They would also allow scientists to discover small areas of overlap in genomes of different populations, which would help them close in on the true biology of diseases and ensure that “we’re all benefiting from more diverse data in genetics and psychiatric genetics,” says Dr. Kuchenbaecker.
 

New efforts aim at filling the gaps

Genomic studies are featuring more people of non-European ancestry, but most of that improvement comes from populations of Asian ancestry, not African, Latin American, or Indigenous ancestry.

Efforts to increase representation of persons of African ancestry have largely focused on African Americans; fewer efforts have extended to the African continent, home to the most genetically diverse populations. Even fewer have focused on mental health. “The little that was being done was on a very small scale,” says Karestan Koenen, PhD, a professor at Harvard School of Public Health, Boston.

With this in mind, researchers from institutions in Kenya, Uganda, South Africa, and Ethiopia partnered with researchers at the Broad Institute of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Harvard to conduct the largest GWAS of psychiatric disorders in Africa. Dr. Koenen leads the project, Neuropsychiatric Genetics of African Populations–Psychosis (NeuroGAP-Psychosis), which will analyze DNA from over 35,000 people of African ancestry in each of these four countries. Investigators will compare the half of participants who have no history of psychosis with the half with schizophrenia or bipolar disorder in the hopes of identifying the genetic determinants of psychosis.

“Then any potential intervention or therapeutics that will be developed will also be useful for Africans,” says Dr. Teferra, a NeuroGAP principal investigator. Because of the tremendous degree of genetic diversity among people on the continent, however, findings still might not translate to all African populations.

But correcting equity problems in genomics isn’t as simple as recruiting people with non-European backgrounds, especially if those people are unfamiliar with research or have been subject to scientific exploitation. “Special care needs to be taken to, first of all, provide information that’s appropriate [to participants], but also motivate people to take part and then find ways to keep these communities involved and understand what they’re interested in,” says Dr. Kuchenbaecker, who is not involved with NeuroGAP.

For NeuroGAP, the team needed to work with ethical committees at all of the institutions involved, ensure research materials were appropriate for each community’s cultural context, and gain the trust of local communities.

“One of the biggest criticisms within the scientific world is that people from more endowed countries just fly in, bully everyone, collect the data, and leave, with no credit to the local scientists or communities,” says NeuroGAP principal investigator Lukoye Atwoli, MMed, PhD, professor of psychiatry and dean of the Medical College, East Africa, at the Aga Khan University, Nairobi, Kenya. “That is one of the biggest pitfalls we had to grapple with.”

To address that concern, NeuroGAP is training local researchers and is providing them with requested resources so they can carry out similar studies in the future. “We will be looking to address a real need in the academic community and in clinical service delivery,” says Dr. Atwoli.

Dr. Kuchenbaecker says that NeuroGAP demonstrates features necessary for projects seeking to improve equity in psychiatric genomics. “What they’re doing right is recruiting really large numbers, recruiting from different African countries, and involving African investigators,” she says.

In the Americas, Janitza Montalvo-Ortiz, PhD, assistant professor in the Division of Genetics, department of psychiatry, Yale University, New Haven, Conn., and her colleagues are expanding psychiatric genomics projects in Latin America. She co-founded the Latin American Genomics Consortium in 2019, a network of scientists supporting psychiatric genomic research in the region. The consortium also involves the Neuropsychiatric Genetics in Mexican Populations project, which is similar to NeuroGAP and is also led by Dr. Koenan.

The study of Latin American populations is complicated, because genes in these populations reflect Indigenous American, European, and African ancestries. Even when investigators sampled DNA from Latin American individuals, that data often went unused. “Now with new methods emerging to allow us to properly analyze admixed populations in GWAS studies, we’re making efforts to compile different datasets scattered across different large-scale cohorts,” says Dr. Montalvo-Ortiz. “Our ultimate goal is to conduct the first large-scale LatinX GWAS of psychiatry,” she says.

With these projects, researchers hope that new psychiatric research will produce clinical advances for people historically left on the sidelines of genomic studies. By involving their communities in genomic research, “whatever is going to be developed will also benefit our community,” says Dr. Teferra. “We will not be left out.”

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

In combing the genome, scientists can use genetic clues to determine a person’s risk for psychiatric disease and even identify new drug targets. But the benefits of these discoveries will be limited to people of European descent.

Nearly 90% of participants in genome-wide association studies (GWASs), which search for gene variants linked to disease, are of European ancestry. This Eurocentric focus threatens to widen existing disparities in racial and ethnic mental health.

The significant downsides of genomics’ one-track mind

One obstacle hindering therapeutic advances in psychiatry is a shallow understanding of the mechanisms of disorders. “The biggest problem in terms of advancing research for mental health conditions is that we don’t understand the underlying biology,” says Laramie Duncan, PhD, assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford (Calif.) University. “Genetics is one of the best ways to systematically look for new clues about the underlying biology.”

At the advent of genomic research, scientists thought it best to study DNA from people of a single ancestry from one continent. “Researchers for a long time held the idea that it was going to be too complicated to include multiple ancestries in the first rounds of genetic analyses,” says Dr. Duncan.

Studying DNA from someone with ancestors from multiple parts of the world wasn’t compatible with methods used in the early days of GWASs. “Individual parts of a person’s DNA can be linked back to one region of the world or another, and most of our methods essentially assume that all of a person’s DNA came from one region of the world,” says Dr. Duncan.

Because many genes are usually involved in psychiatric disorders, scientists need large numbers of participants to detect uncommon, influential variants. Early research was concentrated in North America and Europe so that scientists could readily collect samples from people of European ancestry.

“It then went out of hand because it became routine practice to use only this one group, essentially White, European ancestry people,” says Karoline Kuchenbaecker, PhD, associate professor of psychiatry at University College London.

Yet findings from one population won’t necessarily translate to others. “And that’s exactly what has been shown,” says Dr. Teferra. Polygenic risk scores developed for schizophrenia from European samples, for example, perform poorly among people of African ancestry, although among Europeans, they are strongly effective at differentiating European individuals with and those without schizophrenia. Moreover, drugs that target a gene identified from studies in European populations may be harmful to other groups.

Studies drawn from a diverse pool of participants would benefit a wider swath of humanity. They would also allow scientists to discover small areas of overlap in genomes of different populations, which would help them close in on the true biology of diseases and ensure that “we’re all benefiting from more diverse data in genetics and psychiatric genetics,” says Dr. Kuchenbaecker.
 

New efforts aim at filling the gaps

Genomic studies are featuring more people of non-European ancestry, but most of that improvement comes from populations of Asian ancestry, not African, Latin American, or Indigenous ancestry.

Efforts to increase representation of persons of African ancestry have largely focused on African Americans; fewer efforts have extended to the African continent, home to the most genetically diverse populations. Even fewer have focused on mental health. “The little that was being done was on a very small scale,” says Karestan Koenen, PhD, a professor at Harvard School of Public Health, Boston.

With this in mind, researchers from institutions in Kenya, Uganda, South Africa, and Ethiopia partnered with researchers at the Broad Institute of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Harvard to conduct the largest GWAS of psychiatric disorders in Africa. Dr. Koenen leads the project, Neuropsychiatric Genetics of African Populations–Psychosis (NeuroGAP-Psychosis), which will analyze DNA from over 35,000 people of African ancestry in each of these four countries. Investigators will compare the half of participants who have no history of psychosis with the half with schizophrenia or bipolar disorder in the hopes of identifying the genetic determinants of psychosis.

“Then any potential intervention or therapeutics that will be developed will also be useful for Africans,” says Dr. Teferra, a NeuroGAP principal investigator. Because of the tremendous degree of genetic diversity among people on the continent, however, findings still might not translate to all African populations.

But correcting equity problems in genomics isn’t as simple as recruiting people with non-European backgrounds, especially if those people are unfamiliar with research or have been subject to scientific exploitation. “Special care needs to be taken to, first of all, provide information that’s appropriate [to participants], but also motivate people to take part and then find ways to keep these communities involved and understand what they’re interested in,” says Dr. Kuchenbaecker, who is not involved with NeuroGAP.

For NeuroGAP, the team needed to work with ethical committees at all of the institutions involved, ensure research materials were appropriate for each community’s cultural context, and gain the trust of local communities.

“One of the biggest criticisms within the scientific world is that people from more endowed countries just fly in, bully everyone, collect the data, and leave, with no credit to the local scientists or communities,” says NeuroGAP principal investigator Lukoye Atwoli, MMed, PhD, professor of psychiatry and dean of the Medical College, East Africa, at the Aga Khan University, Nairobi, Kenya. “That is one of the biggest pitfalls we had to grapple with.”

To address that concern, NeuroGAP is training local researchers and is providing them with requested resources so they can carry out similar studies in the future. “We will be looking to address a real need in the academic community and in clinical service delivery,” says Dr. Atwoli.

Dr. Kuchenbaecker says that NeuroGAP demonstrates features necessary for projects seeking to improve equity in psychiatric genomics. “What they’re doing right is recruiting really large numbers, recruiting from different African countries, and involving African investigators,” she says.

In the Americas, Janitza Montalvo-Ortiz, PhD, assistant professor in the Division of Genetics, department of psychiatry, Yale University, New Haven, Conn., and her colleagues are expanding psychiatric genomics projects in Latin America. She co-founded the Latin American Genomics Consortium in 2019, a network of scientists supporting psychiatric genomic research in the region. The consortium also involves the Neuropsychiatric Genetics in Mexican Populations project, which is similar to NeuroGAP and is also led by Dr. Koenan.

The study of Latin American populations is complicated, because genes in these populations reflect Indigenous American, European, and African ancestries. Even when investigators sampled DNA from Latin American individuals, that data often went unused. “Now with new methods emerging to allow us to properly analyze admixed populations in GWAS studies, we’re making efforts to compile different datasets scattered across different large-scale cohorts,” says Dr. Montalvo-Ortiz. “Our ultimate goal is to conduct the first large-scale LatinX GWAS of psychiatry,” she says.

With these projects, researchers hope that new psychiatric research will produce clinical advances for people historically left on the sidelines of genomic studies. By involving their communities in genomic research, “whatever is going to be developed will also benefit our community,” says Dr. Teferra. “We will not be left out.”

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

In combing the genome, scientists can use genetic clues to determine a person’s risk for psychiatric disease and even identify new drug targets. But the benefits of these discoveries will be limited to people of European descent.

Nearly 90% of participants in genome-wide association studies (GWASs), which search for gene variants linked to disease, are of European ancestry. This Eurocentric focus threatens to widen existing disparities in racial and ethnic mental health.

The significant downsides of genomics’ one-track mind

One obstacle hindering therapeutic advances in psychiatry is a shallow understanding of the mechanisms of disorders. “The biggest problem in terms of advancing research for mental health conditions is that we don’t understand the underlying biology,” says Laramie Duncan, PhD, assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Stanford (Calif.) University. “Genetics is one of the best ways to systematically look for new clues about the underlying biology.”

At the advent of genomic research, scientists thought it best to study DNA from people of a single ancestry from one continent. “Researchers for a long time held the idea that it was going to be too complicated to include multiple ancestries in the first rounds of genetic analyses,” says Dr. Duncan.

Studying DNA from someone with ancestors from multiple parts of the world wasn’t compatible with methods used in the early days of GWASs. “Individual parts of a person’s DNA can be linked back to one region of the world or another, and most of our methods essentially assume that all of a person’s DNA came from one region of the world,” says Dr. Duncan.

Because many genes are usually involved in psychiatric disorders, scientists need large numbers of participants to detect uncommon, influential variants. Early research was concentrated in North America and Europe so that scientists could readily collect samples from people of European ancestry.

“It then went out of hand because it became routine practice to use only this one group, essentially White, European ancestry people,” says Karoline Kuchenbaecker, PhD, associate professor of psychiatry at University College London.

Yet findings from one population won’t necessarily translate to others. “And that’s exactly what has been shown,” says Dr. Teferra. Polygenic risk scores developed for schizophrenia from European samples, for example, perform poorly among people of African ancestry, although among Europeans, they are strongly effective at differentiating European individuals with and those without schizophrenia. Moreover, drugs that target a gene identified from studies in European populations may be harmful to other groups.

Studies drawn from a diverse pool of participants would benefit a wider swath of humanity. They would also allow scientists to discover small areas of overlap in genomes of different populations, which would help them close in on the true biology of diseases and ensure that “we’re all benefiting from more diverse data in genetics and psychiatric genetics,” says Dr. Kuchenbaecker.
 

New efforts aim at filling the gaps

Genomic studies are featuring more people of non-European ancestry, but most of that improvement comes from populations of Asian ancestry, not African, Latin American, or Indigenous ancestry.

Efforts to increase representation of persons of African ancestry have largely focused on African Americans; fewer efforts have extended to the African continent, home to the most genetically diverse populations. Even fewer have focused on mental health. “The little that was being done was on a very small scale,” says Karestan Koenen, PhD, a professor at Harvard School of Public Health, Boston.

With this in mind, researchers from institutions in Kenya, Uganda, South Africa, and Ethiopia partnered with researchers at the Broad Institute of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Harvard to conduct the largest GWAS of psychiatric disorders in Africa. Dr. Koenen leads the project, Neuropsychiatric Genetics of African Populations–Psychosis (NeuroGAP-Psychosis), which will analyze DNA from over 35,000 people of African ancestry in each of these four countries. Investigators will compare the half of participants who have no history of psychosis with the half with schizophrenia or bipolar disorder in the hopes of identifying the genetic determinants of psychosis.

“Then any potential intervention or therapeutics that will be developed will also be useful for Africans,” says Dr. Teferra, a NeuroGAP principal investigator. Because of the tremendous degree of genetic diversity among people on the continent, however, findings still might not translate to all African populations.

But correcting equity problems in genomics isn’t as simple as recruiting people with non-European backgrounds, especially if those people are unfamiliar with research or have been subject to scientific exploitation. “Special care needs to be taken to, first of all, provide information that’s appropriate [to participants], but also motivate people to take part and then find ways to keep these communities involved and understand what they’re interested in,” says Dr. Kuchenbaecker, who is not involved with NeuroGAP.

For NeuroGAP, the team needed to work with ethical committees at all of the institutions involved, ensure research materials were appropriate for each community’s cultural context, and gain the trust of local communities.

“One of the biggest criticisms within the scientific world is that people from more endowed countries just fly in, bully everyone, collect the data, and leave, with no credit to the local scientists or communities,” says NeuroGAP principal investigator Lukoye Atwoli, MMed, PhD, professor of psychiatry and dean of the Medical College, East Africa, at the Aga Khan University, Nairobi, Kenya. “That is one of the biggest pitfalls we had to grapple with.”

To address that concern, NeuroGAP is training local researchers and is providing them with requested resources so they can carry out similar studies in the future. “We will be looking to address a real need in the academic community and in clinical service delivery,” says Dr. Atwoli.

Dr. Kuchenbaecker says that NeuroGAP demonstrates features necessary for projects seeking to improve equity in psychiatric genomics. “What they’re doing right is recruiting really large numbers, recruiting from different African countries, and involving African investigators,” she says.

In the Americas, Janitza Montalvo-Ortiz, PhD, assistant professor in the Division of Genetics, department of psychiatry, Yale University, New Haven, Conn., and her colleagues are expanding psychiatric genomics projects in Latin America. She co-founded the Latin American Genomics Consortium in 2019, a network of scientists supporting psychiatric genomic research in the region. The consortium also involves the Neuropsychiatric Genetics in Mexican Populations project, which is similar to NeuroGAP and is also led by Dr. Koenan.

The study of Latin American populations is complicated, because genes in these populations reflect Indigenous American, European, and African ancestries. Even when investigators sampled DNA from Latin American individuals, that data often went unused. “Now with new methods emerging to allow us to properly analyze admixed populations in GWAS studies, we’re making efforts to compile different datasets scattered across different large-scale cohorts,” says Dr. Montalvo-Ortiz. “Our ultimate goal is to conduct the first large-scale LatinX GWAS of psychiatry,” she says.

With these projects, researchers hope that new psychiatric research will produce clinical advances for people historically left on the sidelines of genomic studies. By involving their communities in genomic research, “whatever is going to be developed will also benefit our community,” says Dr. Teferra. “We will not be left out.”

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.