Anxiety Disorders

Cannabis-derived compounds, such as cannabidiol (CBD), are popping up like weeds (so to speak) in retail and online stores, and are being marketed for a wide range of purported health benefits, most of which are unsubstantiated. Cannabidiol—a chemical component of the Cannabis sativa plant (marijuana)—does not produce intoxication or euphoria (ie, the “high”) that comes from delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), which is the psychoactive component of marijuana.¹ Cannabidiol has become popular partly due to increased cultural acceptance of marijuana. In a 2019 Pew Research Center survey, 67% of Americans supported marijuana legalization.²

In addition, changing laws have increased the interest in and availability of CBD. The Agricultural Improvement Act of 2018 legalized hemp, which is defined as cannabis and cannabis-derived compounds with significantly low concentrations of THC (<0.3% on a dry weight basis).^1,3 However, this act also preserved the FDA’s authority to regulate products containing cannabis and cannabis-derived compounds.¹

With the recent emphasis on CBD, it is easy to forget that the FDA has approved a few medications that are derived from or related to cannabis. In this article, I review the current FDA-approved cannabis-related treatments and their indications, and concerns regarding CBD products.

FDA-approved treatments

To date, the FDA has not approved cannabis for the treatment of any medical or psychiatric condition. However, the FDA has approved 1 cannabis-derived medication (CBD) and 2 cannabis-related medications (dronabinol and nabilone) for specific indications (these medications are available by prescription only):

Cannabidiol (brand name: Epidiolex) is approved for the treatment of seizures associated with Lennox-Gastaut syndrome or Dravet syndrome in patients age ≥2, and for the treatment of seizures associated with tuberous sclerosis complex in patients age ≥1.^1,4 There are no other FDA-approved medications that contain CBD.

Dronabinol (brand names: Marinol and Syndros) is an antiemetic agent that contains synthetic THC. It is approved for treating or preventing nausea and vomiting caused by cancer medications and for increasing the appetite of individuals with AIDS.¹

Nabilone (brand name: Cesamet) is a synthetic compound that is structurally similar to THC. It is approved for treating or preventing nausea and vomiting caused by cancer medications.¹

Continue to: Questionable claims about CBD

Some manufacturers market CBD products as having a variety of health benefits for both humans and pets, but most of these claims are unsubstantiated.¹ The FDA has issued warning letters to several manufacturers who have marketed CBD products as producing therapeutic effects.⁵

Under the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act, any products intended to have a therapeutic effect are considered drugs, and unapproved drugs cannot be distributed or sold in interstate commerce.¹ Cannabidiol products cannot be sold as dietary supplements.¹ In addition, food products containing CBD cannot be introduced or delivered for introduction into interstate commerce.¹ Many CBD products do not contain the amount of CBD advertised, and some contain contaminants such as pesticides and heavy metals.¹ Also, CBD products can affect the therapeutic effectiveness of prescription medications.

Discuss CBD with your patients

Ask your patients if they use CBD and, if so, find out which product(s), the quantity and frequency of use, and any effects they have experienced from using them. Patients can report any adverse effects from CBD products to the FDA’s MedWatch program (www.accessdata.fda.gov/scripts/medwatch/). Tell your patients that there is limited or inconclusive evidence regarding the therapeutic efficacy of over-the-counter CBD products for any medical or psychiatric condition. Encourage your patients to be open with you about using these products, so you can make appropriate treatment decisions.

Cannabis-derived compounds, such as cannabidiol (CBD), are popping up like weeds (so to speak) in retail and online stores, and are being marketed for a wide range of purported health benefits, most of which are unsubstantiated. Cannabidiol—a chemical component of the Cannabis sativa plant (marijuana)—does not produce intoxication or euphoria (ie, the “high”) that comes from delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), which is the psychoactive component of marijuana.¹ Cannabidiol has become popular partly due to increased cultural acceptance of marijuana. In a 2019 Pew Research Center survey, 67% of Americans supported marijuana legalization.²

In addition, changing laws have increased the interest in and availability of CBD. The Agricultural Improvement Act of 2018 legalized hemp, which is defined as cannabis and cannabis-derived compounds with significantly low concentrations of THC (<0.3% on a dry weight basis).^1,3 However, this act also preserved the FDA’s authority to regulate products containing cannabis and cannabis-derived compounds.¹

With the recent emphasis on CBD, it is easy to forget that the FDA has approved a few medications that are derived from or related to cannabis. In this article, I review the current FDA-approved cannabis-related treatments and their indications, and concerns regarding CBD products.

FDA-approved treatments

To date, the FDA has not approved cannabis for the treatment of any medical or psychiatric condition. However, the FDA has approved 1 cannabis-derived medication (CBD) and 2 cannabis-related medications (dronabinol and nabilone) for specific indications (these medications are available by prescription only):

Cannabidiol (brand name: Epidiolex) is approved for the treatment of seizures associated with Lennox-Gastaut syndrome or Dravet syndrome in patients age ≥2, and for the treatment of seizures associated with tuberous sclerosis complex in patients age ≥1.^1,4 There are no other FDA-approved medications that contain CBD.

Dronabinol (brand names: Marinol and Syndros) is an antiemetic agent that contains synthetic THC. It is approved for treating or preventing nausea and vomiting caused by cancer medications and for increasing the appetite of individuals with AIDS.¹

Nabilone (brand name: Cesamet) is a synthetic compound that is structurally similar to THC. It is approved for treating or preventing nausea and vomiting caused by cancer medications.¹

Continue to: Questionable claims about CBD

Some manufacturers market CBD products as having a variety of health benefits for both humans and pets, but most of these claims are unsubstantiated.¹ The FDA has issued warning letters to several manufacturers who have marketed CBD products as producing therapeutic effects.⁵

Under the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act, any products intended to have a therapeutic effect are considered drugs, and unapproved drugs cannot be distributed or sold in interstate commerce.¹ Cannabidiol products cannot be sold as dietary supplements.¹ In addition, food products containing CBD cannot be introduced or delivered for introduction into interstate commerce.¹ Many CBD products do not contain the amount of CBD advertised, and some contain contaminants such as pesticides and heavy metals.¹ Also, CBD products can affect the therapeutic effectiveness of prescription medications.

Discuss CBD with your patients

Ask your patients if they use CBD and, if so, find out which product(s), the quantity and frequency of use, and any effects they have experienced from using them. Patients can report any adverse effects from CBD products to the FDA’s MedWatch program (www.accessdata.fda.gov/scripts/medwatch/). Tell your patients that there is limited or inconclusive evidence regarding the therapeutic efficacy of over-the-counter CBD products for any medical or psychiatric condition. Encourage your patients to be open with you about using these products, so you can make appropriate treatment decisions.

Cannabis-derived compounds, such as cannabidiol (CBD), are popping up like weeds (so to speak) in retail and online stores, and are being marketed for a wide range of purported health benefits, most of which are unsubstantiated. Cannabidiol—a chemical component of the Cannabis sativa plant (marijuana)—does not produce intoxication or euphoria (ie, the “high”) that comes from delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), which is the psychoactive component of marijuana.¹ Cannabidiol has become popular partly due to increased cultural acceptance of marijuana. In a 2019 Pew Research Center survey, 67% of Americans supported marijuana legalization.²

In addition, changing laws have increased the interest in and availability of CBD. The Agricultural Improvement Act of 2018 legalized hemp, which is defined as cannabis and cannabis-derived compounds with significantly low concentrations of THC (<0.3% on a dry weight basis).^1,3 However, this act also preserved the FDA’s authority to regulate products containing cannabis and cannabis-derived compounds.¹

With the recent emphasis on CBD, it is easy to forget that the FDA has approved a few medications that are derived from or related to cannabis. In this article, I review the current FDA-approved cannabis-related treatments and their indications, and concerns regarding CBD products.

FDA-approved treatments

To date, the FDA has not approved cannabis for the treatment of any medical or psychiatric condition. However, the FDA has approved 1 cannabis-derived medication (CBD) and 2 cannabis-related medications (dronabinol and nabilone) for specific indications (these medications are available by prescription only):

Cannabidiol (brand name: Epidiolex) is approved for the treatment of seizures associated with Lennox-Gastaut syndrome or Dravet syndrome in patients age ≥2, and for the treatment of seizures associated with tuberous sclerosis complex in patients age ≥1.^1,4 There are no other FDA-approved medications that contain CBD.

Dronabinol (brand names: Marinol and Syndros) is an antiemetic agent that contains synthetic THC. It is approved for treating or preventing nausea and vomiting caused by cancer medications and for increasing the appetite of individuals with AIDS.¹

Nabilone (brand name: Cesamet) is a synthetic compound that is structurally similar to THC. It is approved for treating or preventing nausea and vomiting caused by cancer medications.¹

Continue to: Questionable claims about CBD

Some manufacturers market CBD products as having a variety of health benefits for both humans and pets, but most of these claims are unsubstantiated.¹ The FDA has issued warning letters to several manufacturers who have marketed CBD products as producing therapeutic effects.⁵

Under the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act, any products intended to have a therapeutic effect are considered drugs, and unapproved drugs cannot be distributed or sold in interstate commerce.¹ Cannabidiol products cannot be sold as dietary supplements.¹ In addition, food products containing CBD cannot be introduced or delivered for introduction into interstate commerce.¹ Many CBD products do not contain the amount of CBD advertised, and some contain contaminants such as pesticides and heavy metals.¹ Also, CBD products can affect the therapeutic effectiveness of prescription medications.

Discuss CBD with your patients

Ask your patients if they use CBD and, if so, find out which product(s), the quantity and frequency of use, and any effects they have experienced from using them. Patients can report any adverse effects from CBD products to the FDA’s MedWatch program (www.accessdata.fda.gov/scripts/medwatch/). Tell your patients that there is limited or inconclusive evidence regarding the therapeutic efficacy of over-the-counter CBD products for any medical or psychiatric condition. Encourage your patients to be open with you about using these products, so you can make appropriate treatment decisions.

The Food and Drug Administration wants updated boxed warnings on benzodiazepines to reflect the “serious” risks of abuse, misuse, addiction, physical dependence, and withdrawal reactions associated with these medications.

“The current prescribing information for benzodiazepines does not provide adequate warnings about these serious risks and harms associated with these medicines so they may be prescribed and used inappropriately,” the FDA said in a safety communication.

The FDA also wants revisions to the patient medication guides for benzodiazepines to help educate patients and caregivers about these risks.

“While benzodiazepines are important therapies for many Americans, they are also commonly abused and misused, often together with opioid pain relievers and other medicines, alcohol, and illicit drugs,” FDA Commissioner Stephen M. Hahn, MD, said in a statement.

“We are taking measures and requiring new labeling information to help health care professionals and patients better understand that, while benzodiazepines have many treatment benefits, they also carry with them an increased risk of abuse, misuse, addiction, and dependence,” said Dr. Hahn.
 

Ninety-two million prescriptions in 2019

Benzodiazepines are widely used to treat anxiety, insomnia, seizures, and other conditions, often for extended periods of time.

According to the FDA, in 2019, an estimated 92 million benzodiazepine prescriptions were dispensed from U.S. outpatient pharmacies, most commonly alprazolam, clonazepam, and lorazepam.

Data from 2018 show that roughly 5.4 million people in the United States 12 years and older abused or misused benzodiazepines in the previous year.

Although the precise risk of benzodiazepine addiction remains unclear, population data “clearly indicate that both primary benzodiazepine use disorders and polysubstance addiction involving benzodiazepines do occur,” the FDA said.

Data from the National Survey on Drug Use and Health from 2015-2016 suggest that half million community-dwelling U.S. adults were estimated to have a benzodiazepine use disorder.
 

Jump in overdose deaths

Overdose deaths involving benzodiazepines jumped from 1,298 in 2010 to 11,537 in 2017 – an increase of more 780%. Most of these deaths involved benzodiazepines taken with prescription opioids.

Before prescribing a benzodiazepine and during treatment, a patient’s risk for abuse, misuse, and addiction should be assessed, the FDA said.

The agency urged particular caution when prescribing benzodiazepines with opioids and other central nervous system depressants, which has resulted in serious adverse events including severe respiratory depression and death.

The FDA also says patients and caregivers should be warned about the risks of abuse, misuse, addiction, dependence, and withdrawal with benzodiazepines and the associated signs and symptoms.

Physicians are encouraged to report adverse events involving benzodiazepines or other medicines to the FDA’s MedWatch program.
 

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

The Food and Drug Administration wants updated boxed warnings on benzodiazepines to reflect the “serious” risks of abuse, misuse, addiction, physical dependence, and withdrawal reactions associated with these medications.

“The current prescribing information for benzodiazepines does not provide adequate warnings about these serious risks and harms associated with these medicines so they may be prescribed and used inappropriately,” the FDA said in a safety communication.

The FDA also wants revisions to the patient medication guides for benzodiazepines to help educate patients and caregivers about these risks.

“While benzodiazepines are important therapies for many Americans, they are also commonly abused and misused, often together with opioid pain relievers and other medicines, alcohol, and illicit drugs,” FDA Commissioner Stephen M. Hahn, MD, said in a statement.

“We are taking measures and requiring new labeling information to help health care professionals and patients better understand that, while benzodiazepines have many treatment benefits, they also carry with them an increased risk of abuse, misuse, addiction, and dependence,” said Dr. Hahn.
 

Ninety-two million prescriptions in 2019

Benzodiazepines are widely used to treat anxiety, insomnia, seizures, and other conditions, often for extended periods of time.

According to the FDA, in 2019, an estimated 92 million benzodiazepine prescriptions were dispensed from U.S. outpatient pharmacies, most commonly alprazolam, clonazepam, and lorazepam.

Data from 2018 show that roughly 5.4 million people in the United States 12 years and older abused or misused benzodiazepines in the previous year.

Although the precise risk of benzodiazepine addiction remains unclear, population data “clearly indicate that both primary benzodiazepine use disorders and polysubstance addiction involving benzodiazepines do occur,” the FDA said.

Data from the National Survey on Drug Use and Health from 2015-2016 suggest that half million community-dwelling U.S. adults were estimated to have a benzodiazepine use disorder.
 

Jump in overdose deaths

Overdose deaths involving benzodiazepines jumped from 1,298 in 2010 to 11,537 in 2017 – an increase of more 780%. Most of these deaths involved benzodiazepines taken with prescription opioids.

Before prescribing a benzodiazepine and during treatment, a patient’s risk for abuse, misuse, and addiction should be assessed, the FDA said.

The agency urged particular caution when prescribing benzodiazepines with opioids and other central nervous system depressants, which has resulted in serious adverse events including severe respiratory depression and death.

The FDA also says patients and caregivers should be warned about the risks of abuse, misuse, addiction, dependence, and withdrawal with benzodiazepines and the associated signs and symptoms.

Physicians are encouraged to report adverse events involving benzodiazepines or other medicines to the FDA’s MedWatch program.
 

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

The Food and Drug Administration wants updated boxed warnings on benzodiazepines to reflect the “serious” risks of abuse, misuse, addiction, physical dependence, and withdrawal reactions associated with these medications.

“The current prescribing information for benzodiazepines does not provide adequate warnings about these serious risks and harms associated with these medicines so they may be prescribed and used inappropriately,” the FDA said in a safety communication.

The FDA also wants revisions to the patient medication guides for benzodiazepines to help educate patients and caregivers about these risks.

“While benzodiazepines are important therapies for many Americans, they are also commonly abused and misused, often together with opioid pain relievers and other medicines, alcohol, and illicit drugs,” FDA Commissioner Stephen M. Hahn, MD, said in a statement.

“We are taking measures and requiring new labeling information to help health care professionals and patients better understand that, while benzodiazepines have many treatment benefits, they also carry with them an increased risk of abuse, misuse, addiction, and dependence,” said Dr. Hahn.
 

Ninety-two million prescriptions in 2019

Benzodiazepines are widely used to treat anxiety, insomnia, seizures, and other conditions, often for extended periods of time.

According to the FDA, in 2019, an estimated 92 million benzodiazepine prescriptions were dispensed from U.S. outpatient pharmacies, most commonly alprazolam, clonazepam, and lorazepam.

Data from 2018 show that roughly 5.4 million people in the United States 12 years and older abused or misused benzodiazepines in the previous year.

Although the precise risk of benzodiazepine addiction remains unclear, population data “clearly indicate that both primary benzodiazepine use disorders and polysubstance addiction involving benzodiazepines do occur,” the FDA said.

Data from the National Survey on Drug Use and Health from 2015-2016 suggest that half million community-dwelling U.S. adults were estimated to have a benzodiazepine use disorder.
 

Jump in overdose deaths

Overdose deaths involving benzodiazepines jumped from 1,298 in 2010 to 11,537 in 2017 – an increase of more 780%. Most of these deaths involved benzodiazepines taken with prescription opioids.

Before prescribing a benzodiazepine and during treatment, a patient’s risk for abuse, misuse, and addiction should be assessed, the FDA said.

The agency urged particular caution when prescribing benzodiazepines with opioids and other central nervous system depressants, which has resulted in serious adverse events including severe respiratory depression and death.

The FDA also says patients and caregivers should be warned about the risks of abuse, misuse, addiction, dependence, and withdrawal with benzodiazepines and the associated signs and symptoms.

Physicians are encouraged to report adverse events involving benzodiazepines or other medicines to the FDA’s MedWatch program.
 

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

Let me tell you about Tim Ferriss. A few years ago, I started reading his best-selling book, The 4-Hour Body. Ferris detailed how he made himself into a one-man experiment – he’d make changes to his diet, checked his weight and his labs, maybe he even had metabolic studies done.

Courtesy Taylor Prinsen

He’d take these measures after soaking in hot baths, then ice baths, and while I admired his discipline, he did lose me during the chapter where he was using steroids. In the end, he advised a dairy-free, low-carbohydrate diet of green vegetables, beans or lentils, and protein for four meals a day, 6 days a week, with free-for-all eating on the 7th day. Then, there was a weight-lifting routine with kettle bells and ice packs to be placed on your shoulders for a set amount of time each day.

I may not remember the program’s details, but something about Ferris fascinated me. He brands himself as being a “human guinea pig,” about “lifestyle design,” and whatever that is, I like it. Perhaps I am attracted to the idea that we might control the trajectories of our generally uncontrollable lives.

Tim Ferriss graduated from Princeton, he’s written five best-selling books and has a popular podcast, he’s been a TED speaker, and he’s been on Fortune’s “40 under 40” list – and there’s so much more. Ferriss is brilliant, innovative, handsome, charismatic, prolific, extraordinarily athletic. I may have forgotten to mention that he was the National Chinese Kickboxing Champion and was a semifinalist in the World Champion Tango competition in Buenos Aires. He’s adventuresome and fearless, and if that isn’t enough, he speaks five languages. In the genetic dice roll, Mr. Ferriss did well, and he’s a driven and energetic hard worker who is open to new experiences.

I subscribe to the Tim Ferriss podcast – as of this writing, there are 466 episodes, with an incredible lineup of interviews with famous and successful guests. I also subscribe to his “5-Bullet Friday” email list where he mentions the interesting things he is reading, watching, learning about, or eating, and the products he is trying – single-ply toilet paper gets a thumbs down – then ends with a thought-provoking quote. This gentleman spends a tremendous amount of time searching and striving, working on himself and his own emotional growth and self-improvement, and yet he still has time for incredible explorations and experiences.

A search for psychic peace

Honestly, were it not for a few little details, I would like to be Tim Ferriss. Who wouldn’t? But what stops me from actually wanting to be Ferriss is that early on while listening to him, I realized that his drive has been fueled by intense psychic pain. He talks openly about being very close to suicide in college, about a tormenting mood disorder, demons to tame, and productivity as an antidote to a fear of failure, not always as a joy for life. There are moments that I have felt so sad for this remarkable stranger. Tim Ferriss is a searcher and what I believe he searches for most is his own psychic peace.

In a forum for psychiatrists, I wish I could write that Ferriss has found solace with our Food and Drug Administration–approved pharmaceuticals and with psychotherapy, but that’s not what he says. What Ferriss has found helpful, however, is psychedelics, and a wide variety of psychological and philosophical teachings ranging from meditation to Stoicism. And most notably, Ferriss has been an advocate for using hallucinogens as a legal medical intervention. Ferriss was one of four philanthropists who donated a total of $17 million to fund the Johns Hopkins Center for Psychedelic & Consciousness Research. He’s helped to move this field forward and to improve its credibility.

On Sept. 14, 2020, Tim Ferriss released a podcast he recorded with his dance partner and close friend, Debbie Millman, and when he recorded it, he was not certain he would release it. None of his usual sponsors endorsed during the podcast. He starts Episode #464 with, “For me, this is the most important podcast episode I’ve ever published. In it, I describe the most life-shaping, certainly the most difficult, and certainly the most transformative journey of my 43 years on this planet. I’ve never shared it before.”

I applaud Mr. Ferriss for going through with posting the podcast, a confessional about how he was repeatedly sexually molested over a 2-year period as a young child by a babysitter’s son. He worried about how this would affect his family, if they would be left feeling guilty or devastated. He says, “Please note that I expect to be completely overwhelmed emotionally and otherwise when this is published and please understand if I’m not able to reply to any outreach.”

Ferriss and Millman had a long discussion about their sexual abuse as children. Millman was abused by her stepfather at the age of 9, and she talks about confronting him many years later. Ferriss has not confronted his perpetrator, though he has contemplated doing so.

Sexual violence and violation at any age leaves people scarred. In a recent letter to the New York Times in response to President Trump’s words of support to Ghislaine Maxwell, the woman who helped Jeffrey Epstein find his victims, Baltimore psychiatrist Robin Weiss wrote, “Thirty-eight years ago, when I was 32, I was raped. I was married, I was a doctor – you might say I was in pretty stable shape. Yet the shame and guilt I felt were overwhelming. Why didn’t I fight harder? How did I let this happen? I knew better, yet it took me years to overcome those irrational feelings.” These feelings of shame, guilt, self-doubt, and self-blame are nearly universal in survivors of sexual trauma. In children, they can be even worse, as children often don’t have an understanding that what is being done to them is wrong. They lack the language and the maturity to process the events, and ongoing abuse may be accompanied by threats to life of the child or their family members if they tell others, as was the case with Millman. She chose to process her abuse and the consequent difficulties she had by seeking psychiatric care. She took antidepressants and has been in psychoanalysis, both of which she has found to be helpful. Her treatment has tamed her demons, it is ongoing decades later and those demons have not vanished.
 

Abuse comes back in ‘a tidal wave’

Not surprisingly, Ferriss struggled with whether to make these events public. While so much of his story feels familiar to those of us who help patients process their trauma, it’s not completely typical. Ferriss remembered these episodes of sexual abuse “in high resolution,” while using ayahuasca, a hallucinogen, about 5 years ago. He describes suppressing and discounting these memories until he attended a 10-day silent retreat where he used psilocybin. I found it interesting that Ferriss fasted for 5 days before attending the retreat “to increase the depth of the experience.” He goes on to say, “Around day 6 of this silent retreat, all of this abuse came back to me like a tidal wave and it was replaying as if I was wearing a virtual reality headset. I was immersed, I wasn’t an observer, it was as though I was being traumatized and retraumatized 24/7.” He describes an excruciating and horrifying experience and he referred to it as a “psychotic break.”

Ferriss goes on to talk about how bringing these memories to light has affected him, how it’s explained many of his behaviors and ways of relating in a way that has helped him organize and understand his life.

“It was at the tail end of the retreat that I realized that these 17 seemingly inexplicable behaviors of mine – these vicious cycles or triggers that I had been treating like separate problems to be solved, were all downstream of this trauma. Oh, now that you click that puzzle piece into place, these really strange behaviors – this self-loathing, this rage that was seemingly so exaggerated and disproportionate – leading to the near-suicide I had in college – all these things fell into places making sense.” It gave him a sense of relief but was simultaneously overwhelming.

Both Ferriss and Millman talk about books and treatments that have been helpful to them. Their knowledge of trauma treatments and resources is impressive and can be found at: Tim Ferriss – My Healing Journey After Childhood Abuse (Includes Extensive Resource List). Their wish is to share their suffering as a way to help others, impart hope, and better connect.
 

Dr. Miller is coauthor with Annette Hanson, MD, of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatry Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore.

Let me tell you about Tim Ferriss. A few years ago, I started reading his best-selling book, The 4-Hour Body. Ferris detailed how he made himself into a one-man experiment – he’d make changes to his diet, checked his weight and his labs, maybe he even had metabolic studies done.

Courtesy Taylor Prinsen

He’d take these measures after soaking in hot baths, then ice baths, and while I admired his discipline, he did lose me during the chapter where he was using steroids. In the end, he advised a dairy-free, low-carbohydrate diet of green vegetables, beans or lentils, and protein for four meals a day, 6 days a week, with free-for-all eating on the 7th day. Then, there was a weight-lifting routine with kettle bells and ice packs to be placed on your shoulders for a set amount of time each day.

I may not remember the program’s details, but something about Ferris fascinated me. He brands himself as being a “human guinea pig,” about “lifestyle design,” and whatever that is, I like it. Perhaps I am attracted to the idea that we might control the trajectories of our generally uncontrollable lives.

Tim Ferriss graduated from Princeton, he’s written five best-selling books and has a popular podcast, he’s been a TED speaker, and he’s been on Fortune’s “40 under 40” list – and there’s so much more. Ferriss is brilliant, innovative, handsome, charismatic, prolific, extraordinarily athletic. I may have forgotten to mention that he was the National Chinese Kickboxing Champion and was a semifinalist in the World Champion Tango competition in Buenos Aires. He’s adventuresome and fearless, and if that isn’t enough, he speaks five languages. In the genetic dice roll, Mr. Ferriss did well, and he’s a driven and energetic hard worker who is open to new experiences.

I subscribe to the Tim Ferriss podcast – as of this writing, there are 466 episodes, with an incredible lineup of interviews with famous and successful guests. I also subscribe to his “5-Bullet Friday” email list where he mentions the interesting things he is reading, watching, learning about, or eating, and the products he is trying – single-ply toilet paper gets a thumbs down – then ends with a thought-provoking quote. This gentleman spends a tremendous amount of time searching and striving, working on himself and his own emotional growth and self-improvement, and yet he still has time for incredible explorations and experiences.

A search for psychic peace

Honestly, were it not for a few little details, I would like to be Tim Ferriss. Who wouldn’t? But what stops me from actually wanting to be Ferriss is that early on while listening to him, I realized that his drive has been fueled by intense psychic pain. He talks openly about being very close to suicide in college, about a tormenting mood disorder, demons to tame, and productivity as an antidote to a fear of failure, not always as a joy for life. There are moments that I have felt so sad for this remarkable stranger. Tim Ferriss is a searcher and what I believe he searches for most is his own psychic peace.

In a forum for psychiatrists, I wish I could write that Ferriss has found solace with our Food and Drug Administration–approved pharmaceuticals and with psychotherapy, but that’s not what he says. What Ferriss has found helpful, however, is psychedelics, and a wide variety of psychological and philosophical teachings ranging from meditation to Stoicism. And most notably, Ferriss has been an advocate for using hallucinogens as a legal medical intervention. Ferriss was one of four philanthropists who donated a total of $17 million to fund the Johns Hopkins Center for Psychedelic & Consciousness Research. He’s helped to move this field forward and to improve its credibility.

On Sept. 14, 2020, Tim Ferriss released a podcast he recorded with his dance partner and close friend, Debbie Millman, and when he recorded it, he was not certain he would release it. None of his usual sponsors endorsed during the podcast. He starts Episode #464 with, “For me, this is the most important podcast episode I’ve ever published. In it, I describe the most life-shaping, certainly the most difficult, and certainly the most transformative journey of my 43 years on this planet. I’ve never shared it before.”

I applaud Mr. Ferriss for going through with posting the podcast, a confessional about how he was repeatedly sexually molested over a 2-year period as a young child by a babysitter’s son. He worried about how this would affect his family, if they would be left feeling guilty or devastated. He says, “Please note that I expect to be completely overwhelmed emotionally and otherwise when this is published and please understand if I’m not able to reply to any outreach.”

Ferriss and Millman had a long discussion about their sexual abuse as children. Millman was abused by her stepfather at the age of 9, and she talks about confronting him many years later. Ferriss has not confronted his perpetrator, though he has contemplated doing so.

Sexual violence and violation at any age leaves people scarred. In a recent letter to the New York Times in response to President Trump’s words of support to Ghislaine Maxwell, the woman who helped Jeffrey Epstein find his victims, Baltimore psychiatrist Robin Weiss wrote, “Thirty-eight years ago, when I was 32, I was raped. I was married, I was a doctor – you might say I was in pretty stable shape. Yet the shame and guilt I felt were overwhelming. Why didn’t I fight harder? How did I let this happen? I knew better, yet it took me years to overcome those irrational feelings.” These feelings of shame, guilt, self-doubt, and self-blame are nearly universal in survivors of sexual trauma. In children, they can be even worse, as children often don’t have an understanding that what is being done to them is wrong. They lack the language and the maturity to process the events, and ongoing abuse may be accompanied by threats to life of the child or their family members if they tell others, as was the case with Millman. She chose to process her abuse and the consequent difficulties she had by seeking psychiatric care. She took antidepressants and has been in psychoanalysis, both of which she has found to be helpful. Her treatment has tamed her demons, it is ongoing decades later and those demons have not vanished.
 

Abuse comes back in ‘a tidal wave’

Not surprisingly, Ferriss struggled with whether to make these events public. While so much of his story feels familiar to those of us who help patients process their trauma, it’s not completely typical. Ferriss remembered these episodes of sexual abuse “in high resolution,” while using ayahuasca, a hallucinogen, about 5 years ago. He describes suppressing and discounting these memories until he attended a 10-day silent retreat where he used psilocybin. I found it interesting that Ferriss fasted for 5 days before attending the retreat “to increase the depth of the experience.” He goes on to say, “Around day 6 of this silent retreat, all of this abuse came back to me like a tidal wave and it was replaying as if I was wearing a virtual reality headset. I was immersed, I wasn’t an observer, it was as though I was being traumatized and retraumatized 24/7.” He describes an excruciating and horrifying experience and he referred to it as a “psychotic break.”

Ferriss goes on to talk about how bringing these memories to light has affected him, how it’s explained many of his behaviors and ways of relating in a way that has helped him organize and understand his life.

“It was at the tail end of the retreat that I realized that these 17 seemingly inexplicable behaviors of mine – these vicious cycles or triggers that I had been treating like separate problems to be solved, were all downstream of this trauma. Oh, now that you click that puzzle piece into place, these really strange behaviors – this self-loathing, this rage that was seemingly so exaggerated and disproportionate – leading to the near-suicide I had in college – all these things fell into places making sense.” It gave him a sense of relief but was simultaneously overwhelming.

Both Ferriss and Millman talk about books and treatments that have been helpful to them. Their knowledge of trauma treatments and resources is impressive and can be found at: Tim Ferriss – My Healing Journey After Childhood Abuse (Includes Extensive Resource List). Their wish is to share their suffering as a way to help others, impart hope, and better connect.
 

Dr. Miller is coauthor with Annette Hanson, MD, of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatry Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore.

Let me tell you about Tim Ferriss. A few years ago, I started reading his best-selling book, The 4-Hour Body. Ferris detailed how he made himself into a one-man experiment – he’d make changes to his diet, checked his weight and his labs, maybe he even had metabolic studies done.

Courtesy Taylor Prinsen

He’d take these measures after soaking in hot baths, then ice baths, and while I admired his discipline, he did lose me during the chapter where he was using steroids. In the end, he advised a dairy-free, low-carbohydrate diet of green vegetables, beans or lentils, and protein for four meals a day, 6 days a week, with free-for-all eating on the 7th day. Then, there was a weight-lifting routine with kettle bells and ice packs to be placed on your shoulders for a set amount of time each day.

I may not remember the program’s details, but something about Ferris fascinated me. He brands himself as being a “human guinea pig,” about “lifestyle design,” and whatever that is, I like it. Perhaps I am attracted to the idea that we might control the trajectories of our generally uncontrollable lives.

Tim Ferriss graduated from Princeton, he’s written five best-selling books and has a popular podcast, he’s been a TED speaker, and he’s been on Fortune’s “40 under 40” list – and there’s so much more. Ferriss is brilliant, innovative, handsome, charismatic, prolific, extraordinarily athletic. I may have forgotten to mention that he was the National Chinese Kickboxing Champion and was a semifinalist in the World Champion Tango competition in Buenos Aires. He’s adventuresome and fearless, and if that isn’t enough, he speaks five languages. In the genetic dice roll, Mr. Ferriss did well, and he’s a driven and energetic hard worker who is open to new experiences.

I subscribe to the Tim Ferriss podcast – as of this writing, there are 466 episodes, with an incredible lineup of interviews with famous and successful guests. I also subscribe to his “5-Bullet Friday” email list where he mentions the interesting things he is reading, watching, learning about, or eating, and the products he is trying – single-ply toilet paper gets a thumbs down – then ends with a thought-provoking quote. This gentleman spends a tremendous amount of time searching and striving, working on himself and his own emotional growth and self-improvement, and yet he still has time for incredible explorations and experiences.

A search for psychic peace

Honestly, were it not for a few little details, I would like to be Tim Ferriss. Who wouldn’t? But what stops me from actually wanting to be Ferriss is that early on while listening to him, I realized that his drive has been fueled by intense psychic pain. He talks openly about being very close to suicide in college, about a tormenting mood disorder, demons to tame, and productivity as an antidote to a fear of failure, not always as a joy for life. There are moments that I have felt so sad for this remarkable stranger. Tim Ferriss is a searcher and what I believe he searches for most is his own psychic peace.

In a forum for psychiatrists, I wish I could write that Ferriss has found solace with our Food and Drug Administration–approved pharmaceuticals and with psychotherapy, but that’s not what he says. What Ferriss has found helpful, however, is psychedelics, and a wide variety of psychological and philosophical teachings ranging from meditation to Stoicism. And most notably, Ferriss has been an advocate for using hallucinogens as a legal medical intervention. Ferriss was one of four philanthropists who donated a total of $17 million to fund the Johns Hopkins Center for Psychedelic & Consciousness Research. He’s helped to move this field forward and to improve its credibility.

On Sept. 14, 2020, Tim Ferriss released a podcast he recorded with his dance partner and close friend, Debbie Millman, and when he recorded it, he was not certain he would release it. None of his usual sponsors endorsed during the podcast. He starts Episode #464 with, “For me, this is the most important podcast episode I’ve ever published. In it, I describe the most life-shaping, certainly the most difficult, and certainly the most transformative journey of my 43 years on this planet. I’ve never shared it before.”

I applaud Mr. Ferriss for going through with posting the podcast, a confessional about how he was repeatedly sexually molested over a 2-year period as a young child by a babysitter’s son. He worried about how this would affect his family, if they would be left feeling guilty or devastated. He says, “Please note that I expect to be completely overwhelmed emotionally and otherwise when this is published and please understand if I’m not able to reply to any outreach.”

Ferriss and Millman had a long discussion about their sexual abuse as children. Millman was abused by her stepfather at the age of 9, and she talks about confronting him many years later. Ferriss has not confronted his perpetrator, though he has contemplated doing so.

Sexual violence and violation at any age leaves people scarred. In a recent letter to the New York Times in response to President Trump’s words of support to Ghislaine Maxwell, the woman who helped Jeffrey Epstein find his victims, Baltimore psychiatrist Robin Weiss wrote, “Thirty-eight years ago, when I was 32, I was raped. I was married, I was a doctor – you might say I was in pretty stable shape. Yet the shame and guilt I felt were overwhelming. Why didn’t I fight harder? How did I let this happen? I knew better, yet it took me years to overcome those irrational feelings.” These feelings of shame, guilt, self-doubt, and self-blame are nearly universal in survivors of sexual trauma. In children, they can be even worse, as children often don’t have an understanding that what is being done to them is wrong. They lack the language and the maturity to process the events, and ongoing abuse may be accompanied by threats to life of the child or their family members if they tell others, as was the case with Millman. She chose to process her abuse and the consequent difficulties she had by seeking psychiatric care. She took antidepressants and has been in psychoanalysis, both of which she has found to be helpful. Her treatment has tamed her demons, it is ongoing decades later and those demons have not vanished.
 

Abuse comes back in ‘a tidal wave’

Not surprisingly, Ferriss struggled with whether to make these events public. While so much of his story feels familiar to those of us who help patients process their trauma, it’s not completely typical. Ferriss remembered these episodes of sexual abuse “in high resolution,” while using ayahuasca, a hallucinogen, about 5 years ago. He describes suppressing and discounting these memories until he attended a 10-day silent retreat where he used psilocybin. I found it interesting that Ferriss fasted for 5 days before attending the retreat “to increase the depth of the experience.” He goes on to say, “Around day 6 of this silent retreat, all of this abuse came back to me like a tidal wave and it was replaying as if I was wearing a virtual reality headset. I was immersed, I wasn’t an observer, it was as though I was being traumatized and retraumatized 24/7.” He describes an excruciating and horrifying experience and he referred to it as a “psychotic break.”

Ferriss goes on to talk about how bringing these memories to light has affected him, how it’s explained many of his behaviors and ways of relating in a way that has helped him organize and understand his life.

“It was at the tail end of the retreat that I realized that these 17 seemingly inexplicable behaviors of mine – these vicious cycles or triggers that I had been treating like separate problems to be solved, were all downstream of this trauma. Oh, now that you click that puzzle piece into place, these really strange behaviors – this self-loathing, this rage that was seemingly so exaggerated and disproportionate – leading to the near-suicide I had in college – all these things fell into places making sense.” It gave him a sense of relief but was simultaneously overwhelming.

Both Ferriss and Millman talk about books and treatments that have been helpful to them. Their knowledge of trauma treatments and resources is impressive and can be found at: Tim Ferriss – My Healing Journey After Childhood Abuse (Includes Extensive Resource List). Their wish is to share their suffering as a way to help others, impart hope, and better connect.
 

Dr. Miller is coauthor with Annette Hanson, MD, of “Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatry Care” (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University, 2016). She has a private practice and is assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins, both in Baltimore.

America has been struggling to understand its racial dynamics since the arrival of enslaved Africans more than 400 years ago. Today, with much of the world more polarized than ever, and certainly in our United States, there is a need for something to shift us from our fear and survival paranoid schizoid (us-vs.-them) position to an integrated form if we are to come out of this unusual democratic and societal unrest whole.

Courtesy Random House

Yet, we’ve never had the lexicon to adequately describe the sociopolitical dynamics rooted in race and racism and their power to shape the thinking of all who originate in this country and all who enter its self-made borders whether forcefully or voluntarily. Enter Isabel Wilkerson, a Pulitzer Prize–winning, former New York Times Chicago bureau chief, and author of “The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration” (New York: Random House, 2010) with her second book, “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents” (New York: Random House, 2020).

Ms. Wilkerson quickly gets to work in an engaging storytelling style of weaving past to present with ideas she supports with letters from the past, historians’ impressions, research studies, and data. Her observations and research are bookended by the lead up to the 2016 presidential election and its aftermath on the one end, and the impending 2020 presidential election on the other. In her view, the reemergence of violence that has accelerated in the 21st century and the renewed commitment to promote white supremacy can be understood if we expand our view of race and racism to consider the enduring power of caste. For, in Ms. Wilkerson’s view, the fear of the 2042 U.S. census (which is predicted to reflect for the first time a non-White majority) is a driving force behind the dominant caste’s determination to maintain the status quo power dynamics in the United States.

In an effort to explain American’s racial hierarchy, Ms. Wilkerson explains the need for a new lexicon “that may sound like a foreign language,” but this is intentional on her part. She writes:

“To recalibrate how we see ourselves, I use language that may be more commonly associated with people in other cultures, to suggest a new way of understanding our hierarchy: Dominant caste, ruling majority, favored caste, or upper caste, instead of, or in addition to, white. Middle castes instead of, or in addition to, Asian or Latino. Subordinate caste, lowest caste, bottom caste, disfavored caste, historically stigmatized instead of African-American. Original, conquered, or indigenous peoples instead of, or in addition to, Native American. Marginalized people in addition to, or instead of, women of any race, or minorities of any kind.”

Early in the book Ms. Wilkerson anchors her argument in Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s sojourn to India. Rather than focus on the known history of Dr. King’s admiration of Mohandas Gandhi, Ms. Wilkerson directs our attention to Dr. King’s discovery of his connection to Dalits, those who had been considered “untouchables” until Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar, the Indian economist, jurist, social reformer, and Dalit leader, fiercely and successfully advocated for a rebranding of his caste of origin; instead of “untouchables” they would be considered Dalits or “broken people.” Dr. King did not meet Mr. Ambedkar, who died 3 years before this journey, but Ms. Wilkerson writes that Dr. King acknowledged the kinship, “And he said unto himself, Yes, I am an untouchable, and every Negro in the United States is an untouchable.” The Dalits and Dr. King recognized in each other their shared positions as subordinates in a global caste system.

In answering the question about the difference between racism and casteism, Ms. Wilkerson writes:

“Because caste and race are interwoven in America, it can be hard to separate the two. ... Casteism is the investment in keeping the hierarchy as it is in order to maintain your own ranking, advantage, privilege, or to elevate yourself above others or to keep others beneath you.”

Reading “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents” is akin to the experience of gaining relief after struggling for years with a chronic malady that has a fluctuating course: Under the surface is low-grade pain that is compartmentalized and often met with denial or gaslighting when symptoms and systems are reported to members of the dominant caste. Yet, when there are acute flare-ups and increasingly frequent deadly encounters, the defenses of denial are painfully revealed; structures are broken and sometimes burned down. This has been the clinical course of racism, particularly in the United States. In that vein, an early reaction while reading “Caste” might be comparable to hearing an interpretation that educates, clarifies, resonates, and lands perfectly on the right diagnosis at the right moment.
 

Approach proves clarifying

In conceptualizing the malady as one of caste, Ms. Wilkerson achieves several things simultaneously – she names the malady, thus providing a lexicon, describes its symptoms, and most importantly, in our opinion, shares some of the compelling data from her field studies. By focusing on India, Nazi Germany, and the United States, she describes how easily one system influences another in the global effort to maintain power among the privileged.

This is not a new way of conceptualizing racial hierarchy; however, what is truly persuasive is Ms. Wilkerson’s ability to weave her rigorous research, sociopolitical analysis, and cogent psychological insights and interpretations to explain the 400-year trajectory of racialized caste in the United States. She achieves this exigent task with beautiful prose that motivates the reader to return time and time again to learn gut-wrenching painful historical details. She summarizes truths that have been unearthed (again) about Germany, India, and, in particular, the United States during her research and travels around the world. In doing so, she provides vivid examples of racism layered on caste. Consider the following:

“The Nazis were impressed by the American custom of lynching its subordinate caste of African-Americans, having become aware of the ritual torture and mutilations that typically accompanied them. Hitler especially marveled at the American ‘knack for maintaining an air of robust innocence in the wake of mass death.’ ” Ms. Wilkerson informs us that Hitler sent emissaries to study America’s Jim Crow system and then imported some features to orchestrate the Holocaust in Nazi Germany.

Her most vivid example of internalized casteism is the experience of a Dalit scholar who still experiences anxiety and a corresponding sense of inadequacy in the presence of someone who is considered to be from a higher caste.

A painful account of interpersonal racism is captured as Ms. Wilkerson recounts her experience after a routine business flight from Chicago to Detroit. She details her difficulty leaving a rental car parking lot because she had become so disoriented after being profiled and accosted by Drug Enforcement Administration agents who had intercepted her in the airport terminal and followed her onto the airport shuttle bus as she attempted to reach her destination. She provides a description of “getting turned around in a parking lot that I had been to dozens of times, going in circles, not able to get out, not registering the signs to the exit, not seeing how to get to Interstate 94, when I knew full well how to get to I-94 after all the times I’d driven it. ... This was the thievery of caste, stealing the time and psychic resources of the marginalized, draining energy in an already uphill competition. They were not, like me, frozen and disoriented, trying to make sense of a public violation that seemed all the more menacing now that I could see it in full. The quiet mundanity of that terror has never left me, the scars outliving the cut.”

This account is consistent with the dissociative, disorienting dynamics of race-based trauma. Her experience is not uncommon and helps to explain the activism of those in the subordinate caste who have attained some measure of wealth, power, and influence, and are motivated to expend their resources (energy, time, fame, and/or wealth) to raise awareness about social and political injustices by calling out structural racism in medicine, protesting police use of force by taking a knee, boycotting sporting events, and even demanding that football stadiums be used as polling sites. At the end of the day, all of us who have “made it” know that when we leave our homes, our relegation to the subordinate caste determines how we are perceived and what landmines we must navigate to make it through the day and that determine whether we will make it home.

This tour de force work of art has the potential to be a game changer in the way that we think about racial polarization in the United States. It is hoped that this new language opens up a space that allows each of us to explore this hegemony while identifying our placement and actions we take to maintain it, for each of us undeniably has a position in this caste system.

Having this new lexicon summons to mind the reactions of patients who gain immediate relief from having their illnesses named. In the case of the U.S. malady that has gripped us all, Ms. Wilkerson reiterates the importance of naming the condition. She writes:

“Because, to truly understand America, we must open our eyes to the hidden work of a caste system that has gone unnamed but prevails among us to our collective detriment, to see that we have more in common with each other and with cultures that we might otherwise dismiss, and to summon the courage to consider that therein may lie the answers.”

The naming allows both doctor and patient to have greater insight, understanding its origins and course, as well as having hope that there is a remedy. Naming facilitates the space for a shift in thinking and implementation of treatment protocols, such as Nazi Germany’s “zero tolerance policy” of swastikas in comparison to the ongoing U.S. controversy about the display of Confederate symbols. At this point in history, we welcome a diagnosis that has the potential to shift us from these poles of dominant and subordinate, black and white, good and bad, toward integration and wholeness of the individual psyche and collective global community. This is similar to what Melanie Klein calls the depressive position. Ms. Wilkerson suggests, in relinquishing these polar splits, we increase our capacity to shift to a space where our psychic integration occurs and our inextricable interdependence and responsibility for one another are honored.
 

Dr. Dunlap is a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, and clinical professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at George Washington University. She is interested in the management of “difference” – race, gender, ethnicity, and intersectionality – in dyadic relationships and group dynamics; and the impact of racism on interpersonal relationships in institutional structures. Dr. Dunlap practices in Washington and has no disclosures. Dr. Dennis is a clinical psychologist and psychoanalyst. Her interests are in gender and ethnic diversity, health equity, and supervision and training. Dr. Dennis practices in Washington and has no disclosures.

America has been struggling to understand its racial dynamics since the arrival of enslaved Africans more than 400 years ago. Today, with much of the world more polarized than ever, and certainly in our United States, there is a need for something to shift us from our fear and survival paranoid schizoid (us-vs.-them) position to an integrated form if we are to come out of this unusual democratic and societal unrest whole.

Courtesy Random House

Yet, we’ve never had the lexicon to adequately describe the sociopolitical dynamics rooted in race and racism and their power to shape the thinking of all who originate in this country and all who enter its self-made borders whether forcefully or voluntarily. Enter Isabel Wilkerson, a Pulitzer Prize–winning, former New York Times Chicago bureau chief, and author of “The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration” (New York: Random House, 2010) with her second book, “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents” (New York: Random House, 2020).

Ms. Wilkerson quickly gets to work in an engaging storytelling style of weaving past to present with ideas she supports with letters from the past, historians’ impressions, research studies, and data. Her observations and research are bookended by the lead up to the 2016 presidential election and its aftermath on the one end, and the impending 2020 presidential election on the other. In her view, the reemergence of violence that has accelerated in the 21st century and the renewed commitment to promote white supremacy can be understood if we expand our view of race and racism to consider the enduring power of caste. For, in Ms. Wilkerson’s view, the fear of the 2042 U.S. census (which is predicted to reflect for the first time a non-White majority) is a driving force behind the dominant caste’s determination to maintain the status quo power dynamics in the United States.

In an effort to explain American’s racial hierarchy, Ms. Wilkerson explains the need for a new lexicon “that may sound like a foreign language,” but this is intentional on her part. She writes:

“To recalibrate how we see ourselves, I use language that may be more commonly associated with people in other cultures, to suggest a new way of understanding our hierarchy: Dominant caste, ruling majority, favored caste, or upper caste, instead of, or in addition to, white. Middle castes instead of, or in addition to, Asian or Latino. Subordinate caste, lowest caste, bottom caste, disfavored caste, historically stigmatized instead of African-American. Original, conquered, or indigenous peoples instead of, or in addition to, Native American. Marginalized people in addition to, or instead of, women of any race, or minorities of any kind.”

Early in the book Ms. Wilkerson anchors her argument in Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s sojourn to India. Rather than focus on the known history of Dr. King’s admiration of Mohandas Gandhi, Ms. Wilkerson directs our attention to Dr. King’s discovery of his connection to Dalits, those who had been considered “untouchables” until Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar, the Indian economist, jurist, social reformer, and Dalit leader, fiercely and successfully advocated for a rebranding of his caste of origin; instead of “untouchables” they would be considered Dalits or “broken people.” Dr. King did not meet Mr. Ambedkar, who died 3 years before this journey, but Ms. Wilkerson writes that Dr. King acknowledged the kinship, “And he said unto himself, Yes, I am an untouchable, and every Negro in the United States is an untouchable.” The Dalits and Dr. King recognized in each other their shared positions as subordinates in a global caste system.

In answering the question about the difference between racism and casteism, Ms. Wilkerson writes:

“Because caste and race are interwoven in America, it can be hard to separate the two. ... Casteism is the investment in keeping the hierarchy as it is in order to maintain your own ranking, advantage, privilege, or to elevate yourself above others or to keep others beneath you.”

Reading “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents” is akin to the experience of gaining relief after struggling for years with a chronic malady that has a fluctuating course: Under the surface is low-grade pain that is compartmentalized and often met with denial or gaslighting when symptoms and systems are reported to members of the dominant caste. Yet, when there are acute flare-ups and increasingly frequent deadly encounters, the defenses of denial are painfully revealed; structures are broken and sometimes burned down. This has been the clinical course of racism, particularly in the United States. In that vein, an early reaction while reading “Caste” might be comparable to hearing an interpretation that educates, clarifies, resonates, and lands perfectly on the right diagnosis at the right moment.
 

Approach proves clarifying

In conceptualizing the malady as one of caste, Ms. Wilkerson achieves several things simultaneously – she names the malady, thus providing a lexicon, describes its symptoms, and most importantly, in our opinion, shares some of the compelling data from her field studies. By focusing on India, Nazi Germany, and the United States, she describes how easily one system influences another in the global effort to maintain power among the privileged.

This is not a new way of conceptualizing racial hierarchy; however, what is truly persuasive is Ms. Wilkerson’s ability to weave her rigorous research, sociopolitical analysis, and cogent psychological insights and interpretations to explain the 400-year trajectory of racialized caste in the United States. She achieves this exigent task with beautiful prose that motivates the reader to return time and time again to learn gut-wrenching painful historical details. She summarizes truths that have been unearthed (again) about Germany, India, and, in particular, the United States during her research and travels around the world. In doing so, she provides vivid examples of racism layered on caste. Consider the following:

“The Nazis were impressed by the American custom of lynching its subordinate caste of African-Americans, having become aware of the ritual torture and mutilations that typically accompanied them. Hitler especially marveled at the American ‘knack for maintaining an air of robust innocence in the wake of mass death.’ ” Ms. Wilkerson informs us that Hitler sent emissaries to study America’s Jim Crow system and then imported some features to orchestrate the Holocaust in Nazi Germany.

Her most vivid example of internalized casteism is the experience of a Dalit scholar who still experiences anxiety and a corresponding sense of inadequacy in the presence of someone who is considered to be from a higher caste.

A painful account of interpersonal racism is captured as Ms. Wilkerson recounts her experience after a routine business flight from Chicago to Detroit. She details her difficulty leaving a rental car parking lot because she had become so disoriented after being profiled and accosted by Drug Enforcement Administration agents who had intercepted her in the airport terminal and followed her onto the airport shuttle bus as she attempted to reach her destination. She provides a description of “getting turned around in a parking lot that I had been to dozens of times, going in circles, not able to get out, not registering the signs to the exit, not seeing how to get to Interstate 94, when I knew full well how to get to I-94 after all the times I’d driven it. ... This was the thievery of caste, stealing the time and psychic resources of the marginalized, draining energy in an already uphill competition. They were not, like me, frozen and disoriented, trying to make sense of a public violation that seemed all the more menacing now that I could see it in full. The quiet mundanity of that terror has never left me, the scars outliving the cut.”

This account is consistent with the dissociative, disorienting dynamics of race-based trauma. Her experience is not uncommon and helps to explain the activism of those in the subordinate caste who have attained some measure of wealth, power, and influence, and are motivated to expend their resources (energy, time, fame, and/or wealth) to raise awareness about social and political injustices by calling out structural racism in medicine, protesting police use of force by taking a knee, boycotting sporting events, and even demanding that football stadiums be used as polling sites. At the end of the day, all of us who have “made it” know that when we leave our homes, our relegation to the subordinate caste determines how we are perceived and what landmines we must navigate to make it through the day and that determine whether we will make it home.

This tour de force work of art has the potential to be a game changer in the way that we think about racial polarization in the United States. It is hoped that this new language opens up a space that allows each of us to explore this hegemony while identifying our placement and actions we take to maintain it, for each of us undeniably has a position in this caste system.

Having this new lexicon summons to mind the reactions of patients who gain immediate relief from having their illnesses named. In the case of the U.S. malady that has gripped us all, Ms. Wilkerson reiterates the importance of naming the condition. She writes:

“Because, to truly understand America, we must open our eyes to the hidden work of a caste system that has gone unnamed but prevails among us to our collective detriment, to see that we have more in common with each other and with cultures that we might otherwise dismiss, and to summon the courage to consider that therein may lie the answers.”

The naming allows both doctor and patient to have greater insight, understanding its origins and course, as well as having hope that there is a remedy. Naming facilitates the space for a shift in thinking and implementation of treatment protocols, such as Nazi Germany’s “zero tolerance policy” of swastikas in comparison to the ongoing U.S. controversy about the display of Confederate symbols. At this point in history, we welcome a diagnosis that has the potential to shift us from these poles of dominant and subordinate, black and white, good and bad, toward integration and wholeness of the individual psyche and collective global community. This is similar to what Melanie Klein calls the depressive position. Ms. Wilkerson suggests, in relinquishing these polar splits, we increase our capacity to shift to a space where our psychic integration occurs and our inextricable interdependence and responsibility for one another are honored.
 

Dr. Dunlap is a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, and clinical professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at George Washington University. She is interested in the management of “difference” – race, gender, ethnicity, and intersectionality – in dyadic relationships and group dynamics; and the impact of racism on interpersonal relationships in institutional structures. Dr. Dunlap practices in Washington and has no disclosures. Dr. Dennis is a clinical psychologist and psychoanalyst. Her interests are in gender and ethnic diversity, health equity, and supervision and training. Dr. Dennis practices in Washington and has no disclosures.

America has been struggling to understand its racial dynamics since the arrival of enslaved Africans more than 400 years ago. Today, with much of the world more polarized than ever, and certainly in our United States, there is a need for something to shift us from our fear and survival paranoid schizoid (us-vs.-them) position to an integrated form if we are to come out of this unusual democratic and societal unrest whole.

Courtesy Random House

Yet, we’ve never had the lexicon to adequately describe the sociopolitical dynamics rooted in race and racism and their power to shape the thinking of all who originate in this country and all who enter its self-made borders whether forcefully or voluntarily. Enter Isabel Wilkerson, a Pulitzer Prize–winning, former New York Times Chicago bureau chief, and author of “The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration” (New York: Random House, 2010) with her second book, “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents” (New York: Random House, 2020).

Ms. Wilkerson quickly gets to work in an engaging storytelling style of weaving past to present with ideas she supports with letters from the past, historians’ impressions, research studies, and data. Her observations and research are bookended by the lead up to the 2016 presidential election and its aftermath on the one end, and the impending 2020 presidential election on the other. In her view, the reemergence of violence that has accelerated in the 21st century and the renewed commitment to promote white supremacy can be understood if we expand our view of race and racism to consider the enduring power of caste. For, in Ms. Wilkerson’s view, the fear of the 2042 U.S. census (which is predicted to reflect for the first time a non-White majority) is a driving force behind the dominant caste’s determination to maintain the status quo power dynamics in the United States.

In an effort to explain American’s racial hierarchy, Ms. Wilkerson explains the need for a new lexicon “that may sound like a foreign language,” but this is intentional on her part. She writes:

“To recalibrate how we see ourselves, I use language that may be more commonly associated with people in other cultures, to suggest a new way of understanding our hierarchy: Dominant caste, ruling majority, favored caste, or upper caste, instead of, or in addition to, white. Middle castes instead of, or in addition to, Asian or Latino. Subordinate caste, lowest caste, bottom caste, disfavored caste, historically stigmatized instead of African-American. Original, conquered, or indigenous peoples instead of, or in addition to, Native American. Marginalized people in addition to, or instead of, women of any race, or minorities of any kind.”

Early in the book Ms. Wilkerson anchors her argument in Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s sojourn to India. Rather than focus on the known history of Dr. King’s admiration of Mohandas Gandhi, Ms. Wilkerson directs our attention to Dr. King’s discovery of his connection to Dalits, those who had been considered “untouchables” until Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar, the Indian economist, jurist, social reformer, and Dalit leader, fiercely and successfully advocated for a rebranding of his caste of origin; instead of “untouchables” they would be considered Dalits or “broken people.” Dr. King did not meet Mr. Ambedkar, who died 3 years before this journey, but Ms. Wilkerson writes that Dr. King acknowledged the kinship, “And he said unto himself, Yes, I am an untouchable, and every Negro in the United States is an untouchable.” The Dalits and Dr. King recognized in each other their shared positions as subordinates in a global caste system.

In answering the question about the difference between racism and casteism, Ms. Wilkerson writes:

“Because caste and race are interwoven in America, it can be hard to separate the two. ... Casteism is the investment in keeping the hierarchy as it is in order to maintain your own ranking, advantage, privilege, or to elevate yourself above others or to keep others beneath you.”

Reading “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents” is akin to the experience of gaining relief after struggling for years with a chronic malady that has a fluctuating course: Under the surface is low-grade pain that is compartmentalized and often met with denial or gaslighting when symptoms and systems are reported to members of the dominant caste. Yet, when there are acute flare-ups and increasingly frequent deadly encounters, the defenses of denial are painfully revealed; structures are broken and sometimes burned down. This has been the clinical course of racism, particularly in the United States. In that vein, an early reaction while reading “Caste” might be comparable to hearing an interpretation that educates, clarifies, resonates, and lands perfectly on the right diagnosis at the right moment.
 

Approach proves clarifying

In conceptualizing the malady as one of caste, Ms. Wilkerson achieves several things simultaneously – she names the malady, thus providing a lexicon, describes its symptoms, and most importantly, in our opinion, shares some of the compelling data from her field studies. By focusing on India, Nazi Germany, and the United States, she describes how easily one system influences another in the global effort to maintain power among the privileged.

This is not a new way of conceptualizing racial hierarchy; however, what is truly persuasive is Ms. Wilkerson’s ability to weave her rigorous research, sociopolitical analysis, and cogent psychological insights and interpretations to explain the 400-year trajectory of racialized caste in the United States. She achieves this exigent task with beautiful prose that motivates the reader to return time and time again to learn gut-wrenching painful historical details. She summarizes truths that have been unearthed (again) about Germany, India, and, in particular, the United States during her research and travels around the world. In doing so, she provides vivid examples of racism layered on caste. Consider the following:

“The Nazis were impressed by the American custom of lynching its subordinate caste of African-Americans, having become aware of the ritual torture and mutilations that typically accompanied them. Hitler especially marveled at the American ‘knack for maintaining an air of robust innocence in the wake of mass death.’ ” Ms. Wilkerson informs us that Hitler sent emissaries to study America’s Jim Crow system and then imported some features to orchestrate the Holocaust in Nazi Germany.

Her most vivid example of internalized casteism is the experience of a Dalit scholar who still experiences anxiety and a corresponding sense of inadequacy in the presence of someone who is considered to be from a higher caste.

A painful account of interpersonal racism is captured as Ms. Wilkerson recounts her experience after a routine business flight from Chicago to Detroit. She details her difficulty leaving a rental car parking lot because she had become so disoriented after being profiled and accosted by Drug Enforcement Administration agents who had intercepted her in the airport terminal and followed her onto the airport shuttle bus as she attempted to reach her destination. She provides a description of “getting turned around in a parking lot that I had been to dozens of times, going in circles, not able to get out, not registering the signs to the exit, not seeing how to get to Interstate 94, when I knew full well how to get to I-94 after all the times I’d driven it. ... This was the thievery of caste, stealing the time and psychic resources of the marginalized, draining energy in an already uphill competition. They were not, like me, frozen and disoriented, trying to make sense of a public violation that seemed all the more menacing now that I could see it in full. The quiet mundanity of that terror has never left me, the scars outliving the cut.”

This account is consistent with the dissociative, disorienting dynamics of race-based trauma. Her experience is not uncommon and helps to explain the activism of those in the subordinate caste who have attained some measure of wealth, power, and influence, and are motivated to expend their resources (energy, time, fame, and/or wealth) to raise awareness about social and political injustices by calling out structural racism in medicine, protesting police use of force by taking a knee, boycotting sporting events, and even demanding that football stadiums be used as polling sites. At the end of the day, all of us who have “made it” know that when we leave our homes, our relegation to the subordinate caste determines how we are perceived and what landmines we must navigate to make it through the day and that determine whether we will make it home.

This tour de force work of art has the potential to be a game changer in the way that we think about racial polarization in the United States. It is hoped that this new language opens up a space that allows each of us to explore this hegemony while identifying our placement and actions we take to maintain it, for each of us undeniably has a position in this caste system.

Having this new lexicon summons to mind the reactions of patients who gain immediate relief from having their illnesses named. In the case of the U.S. malady that has gripped us all, Ms. Wilkerson reiterates the importance of naming the condition. She writes:

“Because, to truly understand America, we must open our eyes to the hidden work of a caste system that has gone unnamed but prevails among us to our collective detriment, to see that we have more in common with each other and with cultures that we might otherwise dismiss, and to summon the courage to consider that therein may lie the answers.”

The naming allows both doctor and patient to have greater insight, understanding its origins and course, as well as having hope that there is a remedy. Naming facilitates the space for a shift in thinking and implementation of treatment protocols, such as Nazi Germany’s “zero tolerance policy” of swastikas in comparison to the ongoing U.S. controversy about the display of Confederate symbols. At this point in history, we welcome a diagnosis that has the potential to shift us from these poles of dominant and subordinate, black and white, good and bad, toward integration and wholeness of the individual psyche and collective global community. This is similar to what Melanie Klein calls the depressive position. Ms. Wilkerson suggests, in relinquishing these polar splits, we increase our capacity to shift to a space where our psychic integration occurs and our inextricable interdependence and responsibility for one another are honored.
 

Dr. Dunlap is a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, and clinical professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at George Washington University. She is interested in the management of “difference” – race, gender, ethnicity, and intersectionality – in dyadic relationships and group dynamics; and the impact of racism on interpersonal relationships in institutional structures. Dr. Dunlap practices in Washington and has no disclosures. Dr. Dennis is a clinical psychologist and psychoanalyst. Her interests are in gender and ethnic diversity, health equity, and supervision and training. Dr. Dennis practices in Washington and has no disclosures.

SSRIs are associated with a much lower risk of type 2 diabetes (T2D) in children and adolescents than previously reported, new research shows.

Investigators found publicly insured patients treated with SSRIs had a 13% increased risk for T2D, compared with those not treated with these agents. In addition, those taking SSRIs continuously (defined as receiving one or more prescriptions every 3 months) had a 33% increased risk of T2D.

On the other hand, privately insured youth had a much lower increased risk – a finding that may be attributable to a lower prevalence of risk factors for T2D in this group.

“We cannot exclude that children and adolescents treated with SSRIs may be at a small increased risk of developing T2D, particularly publicly insured patients, but the magnitude of association was weaker than previous thought and much smaller than other known risk factors for T2DM, such as obesity, race, and poverty,” lead investigator Jenny Sun, PhD, said in an interview.

“When weighing the known benefits and risks of SSRI treatment in children and adolescents, our findings provide reassurance that the risk of T2DM is not as substantial as initially reported,” said Dr. Sun, a postdoctoral research fellow in the department of population medicine at Harvard Medical School’s Harvard Pilgrim Health Care Institute, Boston.

The study was published online Sept. 2 in JAMA Psychiatry.

Limited evidence

Previous research suggested that SSRIs increase the risk of T2D by up to 90% in children and adolescents.

However, the investigators noted, the study reporting this finding was too small to draw conclusions about the SSRI class as a whole also did not examine specific SSRIs.

In addition, although “several studies have reported that antidepressant use may be a risk factor for T2D in adults, evidence was limited in children and adolescents,” said Dr. Sun.

“Rapid changes in growth during childhood and adolescents can alter drugs’ pharmacokinetics and pharmacodynamics, so high-quality, age-specific data are needed to inform prescribing decisions,” she said.

For the current study, the researchers analyzed claims data on almost 1.6 million patients aged 10-19 years (58.3% female; mean age, 15.1 years) from two large claims databases.

The analysis focused on those with a diagnosis warranting treatment with an SSRI, including depression, generalized or social anxiety disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, PTSD, panic disorder, or bulimia nervosa.

The Medicaid Analytic Extract database consisted of 316,178 patients insured through Medicaid or the Children’s Health Insurance Program. The IBM MarketScan database consisted of 211,460 privately insured patients. Patients were followed up for a mean of 2.3 and 2.2 years, respectively.

Patients who initiated SSRI treatment were compared with those with a similar indication but who were not taking an SSRI. Secondary analyses compared new SSRI users with patients who recently initiated treatment with bupropion, which has no metabolic side effects, or with patients who recently initiated psychotherapy.

“In observational data, it is difficult to mimic a placebo group, often used in RCTs [randomized, controlled trials], therefore several comparator groups were explored to broaden our understanding,” said Dr. Sun.

In addition, the researchers compared the individual SSRI medications, using fluoxetine as a comparator.

A wide range of more than 100 potential confounders or “proxies of confounders,” were taken into account, including demographic characteristics, psychiatric diagnoses, metabolic conditions, concomitant medications, and use of health care services.

The researchers conducted two analyses. They included an intention-to-treat (ITT) analysis that was restricted to patients with one or more additional SSRI prescriptions during the 6 months following the index exposure assessment period.

Close monitoring required

An as-treated analysis estimated the association of continuous SSRI treatment (vs. untreated, bupropion treatment, and psychotherapy), with adherence assessed at 3-month intervals.

Initiation and continuation of SSRI treatment in publicly insured patients were both associated with a considerably higher risk of T2D, compared with untreated patients, and a steeper risk, compared with their privately insured counterparts.

For newly treated publicly insured patients initiated on SSRI treatment, the ITT adjusted hazard ratio was 1.13 (95% confidence interval, 1.04-1.22).

There was an even stronger association among continuously treated publicly insured patients, with an as-treated aHR of 1.33 (95% CI, 1.21-1.47). The authors noted that this corresponds to 6.6 additional T2D cases per 10,000 patients continuously treated for at least 2 years.

The association was weaker in privately insured patients (ITT aHR, 1.01; 95% CI, 0.84-1.23; as-treated aHR, 1.10; 95% CI, 0.88-1.36).

The secondary analyses yielded similar findings: When SSRI treatment was compared with psychotherapy, the as-treated aHR for publicly insured patients was 1.44 (95% CI, 1.25-1.65), whereas the aHR for privately insured patients was lower at 1.21 (95% CI, 0.93-1.57)

The investigators found no increased risk when SSRIs were compared with bupropion, and the within-class analysis showed that none of the SSRIs carried an increased hazard of T2D, compared with fluoxetine.

“Publicly insured patients are enrolled in Medicaid and the Children’s Health Insurance Program, whereas privately insured patients are generally covered by their parent’s employer-sponsored insurance,” said Dr. Sun.

“Publicly insured patients are of lower socioeconomic status and represent a population with greater overall medical burden, more comorbidities, and a higher prevalence of risk factors for T2D, such as obesity, at the time of treatment initiation,” she said.

She added that high-risk children and youth should be closely monitored and clinicians should also consider recommending dietary modifications and increased exercise to offset T2D risk.

Useful ‘real-world data’

William Cooper, MD, MPH, professor of pediatrics and health policy at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Tenn., said that the study “provides a fascinating look at risks of SSRI medications in children and adolescents.”

Dr. Cooper, who was not involved with the study, said that the authors “draw from real-world data representing two different populations and carefully consider factors which might confound the associations.”

The results, he said, “provide important benefits for patients, families, and clinicians as they weigh the risks and benefits of using SSRIs for children who need treatment for depression and anxiety disorders.

“As a pediatrician, I would find these results useful as I work with my patients, their families, and behavioral health colleagues in making important treatment decisions.”

The study was supported by a training grant from the program in pharmacoepidemiology at the Harvard School of Public Health. Dr. Sun disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Cooper disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

SSRIs are associated with a much lower risk of type 2 diabetes (T2D) in children and adolescents than previously reported, new research shows.

Investigators found publicly insured patients treated with SSRIs had a 13% increased risk for T2D, compared with those not treated with these agents. In addition, those taking SSRIs continuously (defined as receiving one or more prescriptions every 3 months) had a 33% increased risk of T2D.

On the other hand, privately insured youth had a much lower increased risk – a finding that may be attributable to a lower prevalence of risk factors for T2D in this group.

“We cannot exclude that children and adolescents treated with SSRIs may be at a small increased risk of developing T2D, particularly publicly insured patients, but the magnitude of association was weaker than previous thought and much smaller than other known risk factors for T2DM, such as obesity, race, and poverty,” lead investigator Jenny Sun, PhD, said in an interview.

“When weighing the known benefits and risks of SSRI treatment in children and adolescents, our findings provide reassurance that the risk of T2DM is not as substantial as initially reported,” said Dr. Sun, a postdoctoral research fellow in the department of population medicine at Harvard Medical School’s Harvard Pilgrim Health Care Institute, Boston.

The study was published online Sept. 2 in JAMA Psychiatry.

Limited evidence

Previous research suggested that SSRIs increase the risk of T2D by up to 90% in children and adolescents.

However, the investigators noted, the study reporting this finding was too small to draw conclusions about the SSRI class as a whole also did not examine specific SSRIs.

In addition, although “several studies have reported that antidepressant use may be a risk factor for T2D in adults, evidence was limited in children and adolescents,” said Dr. Sun.

“Rapid changes in growth during childhood and adolescents can alter drugs’ pharmacokinetics and pharmacodynamics, so high-quality, age-specific data are needed to inform prescribing decisions,” she said.

For the current study, the researchers analyzed claims data on almost 1.6 million patients aged 10-19 years (58.3% female; mean age, 15.1 years) from two large claims databases.

The analysis focused on those with a diagnosis warranting treatment with an SSRI, including depression, generalized or social anxiety disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, PTSD, panic disorder, or bulimia nervosa.

The Medicaid Analytic Extract database consisted of 316,178 patients insured through Medicaid or the Children’s Health Insurance Program. The IBM MarketScan database consisted of 211,460 privately insured patients. Patients were followed up for a mean of 2.3 and 2.2 years, respectively.

Patients who initiated SSRI treatment were compared with those with a similar indication but who were not taking an SSRI. Secondary analyses compared new SSRI users with patients who recently initiated treatment with bupropion, which has no metabolic side effects, or with patients who recently initiated psychotherapy.

“In observational data, it is difficult to mimic a placebo group, often used in RCTs [randomized, controlled trials], therefore several comparator groups were explored to broaden our understanding,” said Dr. Sun.

In addition, the researchers compared the individual SSRI medications, using fluoxetine as a comparator.

A wide range of more than 100 potential confounders or “proxies of confounders,” were taken into account, including demographic characteristics, psychiatric diagnoses, metabolic conditions, concomitant medications, and use of health care services.

The researchers conducted two analyses. They included an intention-to-treat (ITT) analysis that was restricted to patients with one or more additional SSRI prescriptions during the 6 months following the index exposure assessment period.

Close monitoring required

An as-treated analysis estimated the association of continuous SSRI treatment (vs. untreated, bupropion treatment, and psychotherapy), with adherence assessed at 3-month intervals.

Initiation and continuation of SSRI treatment in publicly insured patients were both associated with a considerably higher risk of T2D, compared with untreated patients, and a steeper risk, compared with their privately insured counterparts.

For newly treated publicly insured patients initiated on SSRI treatment, the ITT adjusted hazard ratio was 1.13 (95% confidence interval, 1.04-1.22).

There was an even stronger association among continuously treated publicly insured patients, with an as-treated aHR of 1.33 (95% CI, 1.21-1.47). The authors noted that this corresponds to 6.6 additional T2D cases per 10,000 patients continuously treated for at least 2 years.

The association was weaker in privately insured patients (ITT aHR, 1.01; 95% CI, 0.84-1.23; as-treated aHR, 1.10; 95% CI, 0.88-1.36).

The secondary analyses yielded similar findings: When SSRI treatment was compared with psychotherapy, the as-treated aHR for publicly insured patients was 1.44 (95% CI, 1.25-1.65), whereas the aHR for privately insured patients was lower at 1.21 (95% CI, 0.93-1.57)

The investigators found no increased risk when SSRIs were compared with bupropion, and the within-class analysis showed that none of the SSRIs carried an increased hazard of T2D, compared with fluoxetine.

“Publicly insured patients are enrolled in Medicaid and the Children’s Health Insurance Program, whereas privately insured patients are generally covered by their parent’s employer-sponsored insurance,” said Dr. Sun.

“Publicly insured patients are of lower socioeconomic status and represent a population with greater overall medical burden, more comorbidities, and a higher prevalence of risk factors for T2D, such as obesity, at the time of treatment initiation,” she said.

She added that high-risk children and youth should be closely monitored and clinicians should also consider recommending dietary modifications and increased exercise to offset T2D risk.

Useful ‘real-world data’

William Cooper, MD, MPH, professor of pediatrics and health policy at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Tenn., said that the study “provides a fascinating look at risks of SSRI medications in children and adolescents.”

Dr. Cooper, who was not involved with the study, said that the authors “draw from real-world data representing two different populations and carefully consider factors which might confound the associations.”

The results, he said, “provide important benefits for patients, families, and clinicians as they weigh the risks and benefits of using SSRIs for children who need treatment for depression and anxiety disorders.

“As a pediatrician, I would find these results useful as I work with my patients, their families, and behavioral health colleagues in making important treatment decisions.”

The study was supported by a training grant from the program in pharmacoepidemiology at the Harvard School of Public Health. Dr. Sun disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Cooper disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

SSRIs are associated with a much lower risk of type 2 diabetes (T2D) in children and adolescents than previously reported, new research shows.

Investigators found publicly insured patients treated with SSRIs had a 13% increased risk for T2D, compared with those not treated with these agents. In addition, those taking SSRIs continuously (defined as receiving one or more prescriptions every 3 months) had a 33% increased risk of T2D.

On the other hand, privately insured youth had a much lower increased risk – a finding that may be attributable to a lower prevalence of risk factors for T2D in this group.

“We cannot exclude that children and adolescents treated with SSRIs may be at a small increased risk of developing T2D, particularly publicly insured patients, but the magnitude of association was weaker than previous thought and much smaller than other known risk factors for T2DM, such as obesity, race, and poverty,” lead investigator Jenny Sun, PhD, said in an interview.

“When weighing the known benefits and risks of SSRI treatment in children and adolescents, our findings provide reassurance that the risk of T2DM is not as substantial as initially reported,” said Dr. Sun, a postdoctoral research fellow in the department of population medicine at Harvard Medical School’s Harvard Pilgrim Health Care Institute, Boston.

The study was published online Sept. 2 in JAMA Psychiatry.

Limited evidence

Previous research suggested that SSRIs increase the risk of T2D by up to 90% in children and adolescents.

However, the investigators noted, the study reporting this finding was too small to draw conclusions about the SSRI class as a whole also did not examine specific SSRIs.

In addition, although “several studies have reported that antidepressant use may be a risk factor for T2D in adults, evidence was limited in children and adolescents,” said Dr. Sun.

“Rapid changes in growth during childhood and adolescents can alter drugs’ pharmacokinetics and pharmacodynamics, so high-quality, age-specific data are needed to inform prescribing decisions,” she said.

For the current study, the researchers analyzed claims data on almost 1.6 million patients aged 10-19 years (58.3% female; mean age, 15.1 years) from two large claims databases.

The analysis focused on those with a diagnosis warranting treatment with an SSRI, including depression, generalized or social anxiety disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, PTSD, panic disorder, or bulimia nervosa.

The Medicaid Analytic Extract database consisted of 316,178 patients insured through Medicaid or the Children’s Health Insurance Program. The IBM MarketScan database consisted of 211,460 privately insured patients. Patients were followed up for a mean of 2.3 and 2.2 years, respectively.

Patients who initiated SSRI treatment were compared with those with a similar indication but who were not taking an SSRI. Secondary analyses compared new SSRI users with patients who recently initiated treatment with bupropion, which has no metabolic side effects, or with patients who recently initiated psychotherapy.

“In observational data, it is difficult to mimic a placebo group, often used in RCTs [randomized, controlled trials], therefore several comparator groups were explored to broaden our understanding,” said Dr. Sun.

In addition, the researchers compared the individual SSRI medications, using fluoxetine as a comparator.

A wide range of more than 100 potential confounders or “proxies of confounders,” were taken into account, including demographic characteristics, psychiatric diagnoses, metabolic conditions, concomitant medications, and use of health care services.

The researchers conducted two analyses. They included an intention-to-treat (ITT) analysis that was restricted to patients with one or more additional SSRI prescriptions during the 6 months following the index exposure assessment period.

Close monitoring required

An as-treated analysis estimated the association of continuous SSRI treatment (vs. untreated, bupropion treatment, and psychotherapy), with adherence assessed at 3-month intervals.

Initiation and continuation of SSRI treatment in publicly insured patients were both associated with a considerably higher risk of T2D, compared with untreated patients, and a steeper risk, compared with their privately insured counterparts.

For newly treated publicly insured patients initiated on SSRI treatment, the ITT adjusted hazard ratio was 1.13 (95% confidence interval, 1.04-1.22).

There was an even stronger association among continuously treated publicly insured patients, with an as-treated aHR of 1.33 (95% CI, 1.21-1.47). The authors noted that this corresponds to 6.6 additional T2D cases per 10,000 patients continuously treated for at least 2 years.

The association was weaker in privately insured patients (ITT aHR, 1.01; 95% CI, 0.84-1.23; as-treated aHR, 1.10; 95% CI, 0.88-1.36).

The secondary analyses yielded similar findings: When SSRI treatment was compared with psychotherapy, the as-treated aHR for publicly insured patients was 1.44 (95% CI, 1.25-1.65), whereas the aHR for privately insured patients was lower at 1.21 (95% CI, 0.93-1.57)

The investigators found no increased risk when SSRIs were compared with bupropion, and the within-class analysis showed that none of the SSRIs carried an increased hazard of T2D, compared with fluoxetine.

“Publicly insured patients are enrolled in Medicaid and the Children’s Health Insurance Program, whereas privately insured patients are generally covered by their parent’s employer-sponsored insurance,” said Dr. Sun.

“Publicly insured patients are of lower socioeconomic status and represent a population with greater overall medical burden, more comorbidities, and a higher prevalence of risk factors for T2D, such as obesity, at the time of treatment initiation,” she said.

She added that high-risk children and youth should be closely monitored and clinicians should also consider recommending dietary modifications and increased exercise to offset T2D risk.

Useful ‘real-world data’

William Cooper, MD, MPH, professor of pediatrics and health policy at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in Nashville, Tenn., said that the study “provides a fascinating look at risks of SSRI medications in children and adolescents.”

Dr. Cooper, who was not involved with the study, said that the authors “draw from real-world data representing two different populations and carefully consider factors which might confound the associations.”

The results, he said, “provide important benefits for patients, families, and clinicians as they weigh the risks and benefits of using SSRIs for children who need treatment for depression and anxiety disorders.

“As a pediatrician, I would find these results useful as I work with my patients, their families, and behavioral health colleagues in making important treatment decisions.”

The study was supported by a training grant from the program in pharmacoepidemiology at the Harvard School of Public Health. Dr. Sun disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Cooper disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

A few months ago, I published a short thought piece on the use of “sitters” with patients who were COVID-19 positive, or patients under investigation. In it, I recommended the use of telesitters for those who normally would warrant a human sitter, to decrease the discomfort of sitting in full personal protective equipment (PPE) (gown, mask, gloves, etc.) while monitoring a suicidal patient.

I received several queries, which I want to address here. In addition, I want to draw from my Army days in terms of the claustrophobia often experienced with PPE.

The first of the questions was about evidence-based practices. The second was about the discomfort of having sitters sit for many hours in the full gear.

I do not know of any evidence-based practices, but I hope we will develop them.

I agree that spending many hours in full PPE can be discomforting, which is why I wrote the essay.

As far as lessons learned from the Army time, I briefly learned how to wear a “gas mask” or Mission-Oriented Protective Posture (MOPP gear) while at Fort Bragg. We were run through the “gas chamber,” where sergeants released tear gas while we had the mask on. We were then asked to lift it up, and then tearing and sputtering, we could leave the small wooden building.

We wore the mask as part of our Army gear, usually on the right leg. After that, I mainly used the protective mask in its bag as a pillow when I was in the field.

Fast forward to August 1990. I arrived at Camp Casey, near the Korean demilitarized zone. Four days later, Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait. The gas mask moved from a pillow to something we had to wear while doing 12-mile road marches in “full ruck.” In full ruck, you have your uniform on, with TA-50, knapsack, and weapon. No, I do not remember any more what TA-50 stands for, but essentially it is the webbing that holds your bullets and bandages.

Many could not tolerate it. They developed claustrophobia – sweating, air hunger, and panic. If stationed in the Gulf for Operation Desert Storm, they were evacuated home.

I wrote a couple of short articles on treatment of gas mask phobia.^1,2 I basically advised desensitization. Start by watching TV in it for 5 minutes. Graduate to ironing your uniform in the mask. Go then to shorter runs. Work up to the 12-mile road march.

In my second tour in Korea, we had exercises where we simulated being hit by nerve agents and had to operate the hospital for days at a time in partial or full PPE. It was tough but we did it, and felt more confident about surviving attacks from North Korea.

So back to the pandemic present. I have gotten more used to my constant wearing of a surgical mask. I get anxious when I see others with masks below their noses. I almost panic when others do not wear their masks at all, such as the lady today who was brushing her teeth in the shared ladies’ restroom.

The pandemic is not going away anytime soon, in my opinion. Furthermore, there are other viruses that are worse, such as Ebola. It is only a matter of time.

So, let us train with our PPE. If health care workers cannot tolerate them, use desensitization- and anxiety-reducing techniques to help them.

There are no easy answers here, in the time of the COVID pandemic. However, we owe it to ourselves, our patients, and society to do the best we can.

References

1. Ritchie EC. Milit Med. 1992 Feb;157(2):104-6.

2. Ritchie EC. Milit Med. 2001 Dec;166. Suppl. 2(1)83-4.
 

Dr. Ritchie is chair of psychiatry at Medstar Washington Hospital Center and professor of psychiatry at Georgetown University, Washington. She has no disclosures and can be reached at [email protected].

A few months ago, I published a short thought piece on the use of “sitters” with patients who were COVID-19 positive, or patients under investigation. In it, I recommended the use of telesitters for those who normally would warrant a human sitter, to decrease the discomfort of sitting in full personal protective equipment (PPE) (gown, mask, gloves, etc.) while monitoring a suicidal patient.

I received several queries, which I want to address here. In addition, I want to draw from my Army days in terms of the claustrophobia often experienced with PPE.

The first of the questions was about evidence-based practices. The second was about the discomfort of having sitters sit for many hours in the full gear.

I do not know of any evidence-based practices, but I hope we will develop them.

I agree that spending many hours in full PPE can be discomforting, which is why I wrote the essay.

As far as lessons learned from the Army time, I briefly learned how to wear a “gas mask” or Mission-Oriented Protective Posture (MOPP gear) while at Fort Bragg. We were run through the “gas chamber,” where sergeants released tear gas while we had the mask on. We were then asked to lift it up, and then tearing and sputtering, we could leave the small wooden building.

We wore the mask as part of our Army gear, usually on the right leg. After that, I mainly used the protective mask in its bag as a pillow when I was in the field.

Fast forward to August 1990. I arrived at Camp Casey, near the Korean demilitarized zone. Four days later, Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait. The gas mask moved from a pillow to something we had to wear while doing 12-mile road marches in “full ruck.” In full ruck, you have your uniform on, with TA-50, knapsack, and weapon. No, I do not remember any more what TA-50 stands for, but essentially it is the webbing that holds your bullets and bandages.

Many could not tolerate it. They developed claustrophobia – sweating, air hunger, and panic. If stationed in the Gulf for Operation Desert Storm, they were evacuated home.

I wrote a couple of short articles on treatment of gas mask phobia.^1,2 I basically advised desensitization. Start by watching TV in it for 5 minutes. Graduate to ironing your uniform in the mask. Go then to shorter runs. Work up to the 12-mile road march.

In my second tour in Korea, we had exercises where we simulated being hit by nerve agents and had to operate the hospital for days at a time in partial or full PPE. It was tough but we did it, and felt more confident about surviving attacks from North Korea.

So back to the pandemic present. I have gotten more used to my constant wearing of a surgical mask. I get anxious when I see others with masks below their noses. I almost panic when others do not wear their masks at all, such as the lady today who was brushing her teeth in the shared ladies’ restroom.

The pandemic is not going away anytime soon, in my opinion. Furthermore, there are other viruses that are worse, such as Ebola. It is only a matter of time.

So, let us train with our PPE. If health care workers cannot tolerate them, use desensitization- and anxiety-reducing techniques to help them.

There are no easy answers here, in the time of the COVID pandemic. However, we owe it to ourselves, our patients, and society to do the best we can.

References

1. Ritchie EC. Milit Med. 1992 Feb;157(2):104-6.

2. Ritchie EC. Milit Med. 2001 Dec;166. Suppl. 2(1)83-4.
 

Dr. Ritchie is chair of psychiatry at Medstar Washington Hospital Center and professor of psychiatry at Georgetown University, Washington. She has no disclosures and can be reached at [email protected].

A few months ago, I published a short thought piece on the use of “sitters” with patients who were COVID-19 positive, or patients under investigation. In it, I recommended the use of telesitters for those who normally would warrant a human sitter, to decrease the discomfort of sitting in full personal protective equipment (PPE) (gown, mask, gloves, etc.) while monitoring a suicidal patient.

I received several queries, which I want to address here. In addition, I want to draw from my Army days in terms of the claustrophobia often experienced with PPE.

The first of the questions was about evidence-based practices. The second was about the discomfort of having sitters sit for many hours in the full gear.

I do not know of any evidence-based practices, but I hope we will develop them.

I agree that spending many hours in full PPE can be discomforting, which is why I wrote the essay.

As far as lessons learned from the Army time, I briefly learned how to wear a “gas mask” or Mission-Oriented Protective Posture (MOPP gear) while at Fort Bragg. We were run through the “gas chamber,” where sergeants released tear gas while we had the mask on. We were then asked to lift it up, and then tearing and sputtering, we could leave the small wooden building.

We wore the mask as part of our Army gear, usually on the right leg. After that, I mainly used the protective mask in its bag as a pillow when I was in the field.

Fast forward to August 1990. I arrived at Camp Casey, near the Korean demilitarized zone. Four days later, Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait. The gas mask moved from a pillow to something we had to wear while doing 12-mile road marches in “full ruck.” In full ruck, you have your uniform on, with TA-50, knapsack, and weapon. No, I do not remember any more what TA-50 stands for, but essentially it is the webbing that holds your bullets and bandages.

Many could not tolerate it. They developed claustrophobia – sweating, air hunger, and panic. If stationed in the Gulf for Operation Desert Storm, they were evacuated home.

I wrote a couple of short articles on treatment of gas mask phobia.^1,2 I basically advised desensitization. Start by watching TV in it for 5 minutes. Graduate to ironing your uniform in the mask. Go then to shorter runs. Work up to the 12-mile road march.

In my second tour in Korea, we had exercises where we simulated being hit by nerve agents and had to operate the hospital for days at a time in partial or full PPE. It was tough but we did it, and felt more confident about surviving attacks from North Korea.

So back to the pandemic present. I have gotten more used to my constant wearing of a surgical mask. I get anxious when I see others with masks below their noses. I almost panic when others do not wear their masks at all, such as the lady today who was brushing her teeth in the shared ladies’ restroom.

The pandemic is not going away anytime soon, in my opinion. Furthermore, there are other viruses that are worse, such as Ebola. It is only a matter of time.

So, let us train with our PPE. If health care workers cannot tolerate them, use desensitization- and anxiety-reducing techniques to help them.

There are no easy answers here, in the time of the COVID pandemic. However, we owe it to ourselves, our patients, and society to do the best we can.

References

1. Ritchie EC. Milit Med. 1992 Feb;157(2):104-6.

2. Ritchie EC. Milit Med. 2001 Dec;166. Suppl. 2(1)83-4.
 

Dr. Ritchie is chair of psychiatry at Medstar Washington Hospital Center and professor of psychiatry at Georgetown University, Washington. She has no disclosures and can be reached at [email protected].

Intimate partner violence (IPV) has not increased during the COVID-19 pandemic, at least during the early stages of the pandemic, new research suggests.

In April 2020, investigators surveyed over 1,750 individuals in intimate partner relationships. The survey was drawn from social media and email distribution lists. The researchers found that, of the roughly one-fifth who screened positive for IPV, half stated that the degree of victimization had remained the same since the COVID-19 outbreak; 17% reported that it had worsened; and one third reported that it had gotten better.

Those who reported worsening victimization said that sexual and physical violence, in particular, were exacerbated early in the pandemic’s course.

‘Shadow pandemic?’

The World Health Organization called upon health care organizations to be prepared to curb a potential IPV “shadow pandemic” during the COVID-19 pandemic.

However, no study has specifically evaluated whether self-reported victimization, particularly with regard to the severity and type of abuse, changed during the early period after COVID-19 social distancing polices were mandated.

“We scrambled right away when the pandemic hit because it was a unique opportunity to examine how behaviors change due to early stay-at-home policies; and, as a violence and injury epidemiologist, I am always curious about IPV, and this was a small subanalysis of that larger question,” Dr. Jetelina said.

The researchers recruited participants through their university and private social media accounts as well as professional distribution lists. Of those who completed the survey, 1,759 (mean age, 42 years) reported that they currently had an intimate partner. These participants were included in the study.

IPV was determined using the five-item Extended Hurt, Insulted, Threatened, and Scream (E-HITS) construct. Respondents were asked how often their partner physically hurt them, insulted them, threatened them with harm, screamed or cursed at them, or forced them to engage in sexual activities.

Each item was answered using a 5-point Likert scale. Scores ranged from 1, indicating never, to 5, indicating frequently. Participants who scored ≥7 were considered IPV positive.

Participants were also asked whether IPV severity had gotten much/somewhat better, had remained the same, or had gotten somewhat/much worse.
 

First peek

Of the total sample, 18% screened positive for IPV. Of these, 54% reported that the victimization had remained the same, 17% reported that it had worsened, and 30% said it had improved.

The majority of IPV victims experienced being insulted (97%) or being screamed at (86%).

Among those who reported worsening of IPV, the risk for physical violence was 4.38 times higher than the risk for nonphysical victimization. The risk for sexual victimization was 2.31 times higher than the risk for nonsexual victimization.

Among those who reported that IPV had gotten better, the improvement was 3.47 times higher with regard to physical victimization, compared with nonphysical victimization. Dr. Jetelina acknowledged that the findings cannot be generalized to the broader population.

“This was a convenience sample, but it is the first peek into what is happening behind closed doors and a first step to hearing collecting data from the victims themselves to better understand this ‘shadow pandemic’ and inform creative efforts to create better services for them while they are in isolation,” she said.
 

Lethality indicators

Commenting on the study, Peter Cronholm, MD, MSCE, associate professor of family medicine and community health at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, questioned the use of a score of 7 on the E-HITS screen to determine the presence of IPV.

“I think there are other thresholds that might be important, and even low levels of sexual violence may be different than higher levels of emotional violence,” said Dr. Cronholm, who was not involved with the study.

“Someone may have been sexually assaulted frequently but not cross the threshold, so I think it would have been helpful for the researchers to look at different types of violence,” he said.

Also commenting on the study, Jessica Palardy, LSW, program supervisor at STOP Intimate Partner Violence, Philadelphia, said, the findings “solidify a trend we sensed was happening but couldn’t confirm.”

She said her agency’s clients “have had a wide variety of experiences, in terms of increases or decreases in victimization.”

Some clients were able to use the quarantine as an excuse to stay with family or friends and so could avoid seeing their partners. “Others indicated that because their partners were distracted by figuring out a new method of work, the tension shifted away from the victim,” said Ms. Palardy, who was not involved in the research.

“For those who saw an increase in victimization, we noticed that this increase also came with an increase in lethality indicators, such as strangulation, physical violence, use of weapons and substances, etc,” she said.

She emphasized that it is critical to screen people for IPV to ensure their safety.

“The goal is to connect people with resources before they are in a more lethal situation so that they can increase their safety and know their options,” Ms. Palardy said.

The National Domestic Violence Hotline and the Crisis Text Line are two sources of support for IPV victims.

Dr. Jetelina and coauthors, Dr. Cronholm, and Ms. Palardy reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Intimate partner violence (IPV) has not increased during the COVID-19 pandemic, at least during the early stages of the pandemic, new research suggests.

In April 2020, investigators surveyed over 1,750 individuals in intimate partner relationships. The survey was drawn from social media and email distribution lists. The researchers found that, of the roughly one-fifth who screened positive for IPV, half stated that the degree of victimization had remained the same since the COVID-19 outbreak; 17% reported that it had worsened; and one third reported that it had gotten better.

Those who reported worsening victimization said that sexual and physical violence, in particular, were exacerbated early in the pandemic’s course.

‘Shadow pandemic?’

The World Health Organization called upon health care organizations to be prepared to curb a potential IPV “shadow pandemic” during the COVID-19 pandemic.

However, no study has specifically evaluated whether self-reported victimization, particularly with regard to the severity and type of abuse, changed during the early period after COVID-19 social distancing polices were mandated.

“We scrambled right away when the pandemic hit because it was a unique opportunity to examine how behaviors change due to early stay-at-home policies; and, as a violence and injury epidemiologist, I am always curious about IPV, and this was a small subanalysis of that larger question,” Dr. Jetelina said.

The researchers recruited participants through their university and private social media accounts as well as professional distribution lists. Of those who completed the survey, 1,759 (mean age, 42 years) reported that they currently had an intimate partner. These participants were included in the study.

IPV was determined using the five-item Extended Hurt, Insulted, Threatened, and Scream (E-HITS) construct. Respondents were asked how often their partner physically hurt them, insulted them, threatened them with harm, screamed or cursed at them, or forced them to engage in sexual activities.

Each item was answered using a 5-point Likert scale. Scores ranged from 1, indicating never, to 5, indicating frequently. Participants who scored ≥7 were considered IPV positive.

Participants were also asked whether IPV severity had gotten much/somewhat better, had remained the same, or had gotten somewhat/much worse.
 

First peek

Of the total sample, 18% screened positive for IPV. Of these, 54% reported that the victimization had remained the same, 17% reported that it had worsened, and 30% said it had improved.

The majority of IPV victims experienced being insulted (97%) or being screamed at (86%).

Among those who reported worsening of IPV, the risk for physical violence was 4.38 times higher than the risk for nonphysical victimization. The risk for sexual victimization was 2.31 times higher than the risk for nonsexual victimization.

Among those who reported that IPV had gotten better, the improvement was 3.47 times higher with regard to physical victimization, compared with nonphysical victimization. Dr. Jetelina acknowledged that the findings cannot be generalized to the broader population.

“This was a convenience sample, but it is the first peek into what is happening behind closed doors and a first step to hearing collecting data from the victims themselves to better understand this ‘shadow pandemic’ and inform creative efforts to create better services for them while they are in isolation,” she said.
 

Lethality indicators

Commenting on the study, Peter Cronholm, MD, MSCE, associate professor of family medicine and community health at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, questioned the use of a score of 7 on the E-HITS screen to determine the presence of IPV.

“I think there are other thresholds that might be important, and even low levels of sexual violence may be different than higher levels of emotional violence,” said Dr. Cronholm, who was not involved with the study.

“Someone may have been sexually assaulted frequently but not cross the threshold, so I think it would have been helpful for the researchers to look at different types of violence,” he said.

Also commenting on the study, Jessica Palardy, LSW, program supervisor at STOP Intimate Partner Violence, Philadelphia, said, the findings “solidify a trend we sensed was happening but couldn’t confirm.”

She said her agency’s clients “have had a wide variety of experiences, in terms of increases or decreases in victimization.”

Some clients were able to use the quarantine as an excuse to stay with family or friends and so could avoid seeing their partners. “Others indicated that because their partners were distracted by figuring out a new method of work, the tension shifted away from the victim,” said Ms. Palardy, who was not involved in the research.

“For those who saw an increase in victimization, we noticed that this increase also came with an increase in lethality indicators, such as strangulation, physical violence, use of weapons and substances, etc,” she said.

She emphasized that it is critical to screen people for IPV to ensure their safety.

“The goal is to connect people with resources before they are in a more lethal situation so that they can increase their safety and know their options,” Ms. Palardy said.

The National Domestic Violence Hotline and the Crisis Text Line are two sources of support for IPV victims.

Dr. Jetelina and coauthors, Dr. Cronholm, and Ms. Palardy reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Intimate partner violence (IPV) has not increased during the COVID-19 pandemic, at least during the early stages of the pandemic, new research suggests.

In April 2020, investigators surveyed over 1,750 individuals in intimate partner relationships. The survey was drawn from social media and email distribution lists. The researchers found that, of the roughly one-fifth who screened positive for IPV, half stated that the degree of victimization had remained the same since the COVID-19 outbreak; 17% reported that it had worsened; and one third reported that it had gotten better.

Those who reported worsening victimization said that sexual and physical violence, in particular, were exacerbated early in the pandemic’s course.

‘Shadow pandemic?’

The World Health Organization called upon health care organizations to be prepared to curb a potential IPV “shadow pandemic” during the COVID-19 pandemic.

However, no study has specifically evaluated whether self-reported victimization, particularly with regard to the severity and type of abuse, changed during the early period after COVID-19 social distancing polices were mandated.

“We scrambled right away when the pandemic hit because it was a unique opportunity to examine how behaviors change due to early stay-at-home policies; and, as a violence and injury epidemiologist, I am always curious about IPV, and this was a small subanalysis of that larger question,” Dr. Jetelina said.

The researchers recruited participants through their university and private social media accounts as well as professional distribution lists. Of those who completed the survey, 1,759 (mean age, 42 years) reported that they currently had an intimate partner. These participants were included in the study.

IPV was determined using the five-item Extended Hurt, Insulted, Threatened, and Scream (E-HITS) construct. Respondents were asked how often their partner physically hurt them, insulted them, threatened them with harm, screamed or cursed at them, or forced them to engage in sexual activities.

Each item was answered using a 5-point Likert scale. Scores ranged from 1, indicating never, to 5, indicating frequently. Participants who scored ≥7 were considered IPV positive.

Participants were also asked whether IPV severity had gotten much/somewhat better, had remained the same, or had gotten somewhat/much worse.
 

First peek

Of the total sample, 18% screened positive for IPV. Of these, 54% reported that the victimization had remained the same, 17% reported that it had worsened, and 30% said it had improved.

The majority of IPV victims experienced being insulted (97%) or being screamed at (86%).

Among those who reported worsening of IPV, the risk for physical violence was 4.38 times higher than the risk for nonphysical victimization. The risk for sexual victimization was 2.31 times higher than the risk for nonsexual victimization.

Among those who reported that IPV had gotten better, the improvement was 3.47 times higher with regard to physical victimization, compared with nonphysical victimization. Dr. Jetelina acknowledged that the findings cannot be generalized to the broader population.

“This was a convenience sample, but it is the first peek into what is happening behind closed doors and a first step to hearing collecting data from the victims themselves to better understand this ‘shadow pandemic’ and inform creative efforts to create better services for them while they are in isolation,” she said.
 

Lethality indicators

Commenting on the study, Peter Cronholm, MD, MSCE, associate professor of family medicine and community health at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, questioned the use of a score of 7 on the E-HITS screen to determine the presence of IPV.

“I think there are other thresholds that might be important, and even low levels of sexual violence may be different than higher levels of emotional violence,” said Dr. Cronholm, who was not involved with the study.

“Someone may have been sexually assaulted frequently but not cross the threshold, so I think it would have been helpful for the researchers to look at different types of violence,” he said.

Also commenting on the study, Jessica Palardy, LSW, program supervisor at STOP Intimate Partner Violence, Philadelphia, said, the findings “solidify a trend we sensed was happening but couldn’t confirm.”

She said her agency’s clients “have had a wide variety of experiences, in terms of increases or decreases in victimization.”

Some clients were able to use the quarantine as an excuse to stay with family or friends and so could avoid seeing their partners. “Others indicated that because their partners were distracted by figuring out a new method of work, the tension shifted away from the victim,” said Ms. Palardy, who was not involved in the research.

“For those who saw an increase in victimization, we noticed that this increase also came with an increase in lethality indicators, such as strangulation, physical violence, use of weapons and substances, etc,” she said.

She emphasized that it is critical to screen people for IPV to ensure their safety.

“The goal is to connect people with resources before they are in a more lethal situation so that they can increase their safety and know their options,” Ms. Palardy said.

The National Domestic Violence Hotline and the Crisis Text Line are two sources of support for IPV victims.

Dr. Jetelina and coauthors, Dr. Cronholm, and Ms. Palardy reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Psychological First Aid is an innovative program launched by the American Red Cross with the goal of addressing issues of concern such as those stemming from COVID-19–related stress. According to Red Cross mental health volunteer representative Deb Butman-Perkins, the program provides “a general overview of what does stress look like, how do we feel it, how do we recognize it in our bodies ... physical, emotional, spiritual, physiological, where does all that stress occur?”¹

The program brings a spotlight to the interdisciplinary nature of the stress response, especially with respect to the importance of developing the necessary coping skills during an ongoing crisis. However, to effectively evaluate and manage the overall stress response for psychiatric patients during quarantine conditions, as well as those who are formally diagnosed with COVID-19, clinicians also will need to revisit what we’ve learned about the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis.

We know that the stress response – which varies somewhat across the spectrum – is necessary to ensure homeostatic regulation. A feedback loop is initiated at the receptor level, involving a myriad of hormones and chemical signals that bring forth the body’s “flight-or-fight” response. Hormones such as epinephrine/norepinephrine and cortisol are secreted by the HPA axis in reaction to the stress response, resulting in a spike in heart rate, blood pressure, and transient hyperglycemia, respectively. In particular, hyperglycemia provides immediate energy to muscles during a perceived crisis.²

In addition, prolonged exposure to living in quarantine can lead to feelings of isolation and estrangement – and excessive anxiety. Combined, those conditions may exert an indelible effect on the HPA axis – leading to a warped pattern of cortisol secretion with respect to baseline.³ (It has been noted in the literature that serum cortisol plays a protective role in thwarting off the effects of PTSD development. Consistent with this line of thinking, military personnel have been preemptively treated with high-dose cortisol during acute exposure.)

Prolonged exposure to psychosocial stressors also increases the overall risk of developing medical comorbidities. Patients who adopt maladaptive responses to traumatic events, for example, may experience dysregulation in eating behaviors and/or disordered sleep.⁴

In light of those realities, clinicians should explore the role of steroid therapy as a means of treating mental health patients experiencing psychological stress formation tied to ongoing quarantine conditions.
 

Challenges of neuroendocrine medications for COVID-19

COVID-19, caused by exposure to SARS-CoV-2, adeptly leverages the ACE2 receptor of the lungs as an entry point to evade the host’s defenses. It should be noted that the ACE2 protein is expressed on the cells of multiple organs of the body, including the adrenals, which are largely responsible for coordinating the stress response of the HPA axis.

Postmortem analysis from severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS-CoV is also from the Coronaviridae family) patients indicates the presence of necrotic adrenal cells, further solidifying the association of the HPA axis to the COVID-19 disease state and pathophysiological course.⁵ Molecular mimicry of the adrenocorticotropic hormone allows SARS-CoV the ability to infiltrate the host’s defenses, in particular, the ability to mount a clinically apt cortisol stress response (e.g., hypocortisolism).As for those who survived the 2003 SARS outbreak, less than half of the patients have been observed to develop symptoms of frank hypocortisolism within a few months after exposure.

The World Health Organization recently endorsed the use of steroid therapy for critically ill COVID-19 patients, and an ongoing clinical trial is evaluating the safety and efficacy parameters of corticosteroids in COVID-19–exposed patients.

In addition, there is reason to believe that application of prophylactic steroids might affect the overall clinical course of COVID-19, thereby reducing mortality and morbidity rates in patients with severe presentation, such as septic shock. The rationale for this line of thought is based on the ability of glucocorticoids to suppress an ensuing cytokine storm by the virus in question.^5,6 In clinical practice, steroids have been used to treat a host of viral diseases, including influenza, respiratory syncytial virus, and Middle East respiratory syndrome coronavirus.

Aside from the selective use of corticosteroids, the medication regimen may incorporate ACE inhibitors and/or angiotensin receptor blockers (ARBs) because of COVID-19’s ability to activate the renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system with respect to the physiological stress response.

The interplay of the HPA axis with the sympathoadrenal system is responsible for adaptive behaviors in the individual. Disrupted feedback loops from prolonged activation are associated with numerous stress-based conditions in mental illness, namely, PTSD, anxiety, and mood disorders. We are concerned about frontline health care workers, who are particularly prone to chronic stress and burnout because of the cumbersome patient load and equipment shortage that have characterized the coronavirus crisis.

Timely administration of corticosteroids on a case-by-case basis would keep the cytokines at bay by precluding their undue activation of the HPA axis and corresponding cascade stress response. Steroids are also known to restore disrupted feedback loops at the level of the immune cells. However, because of conflicting reports concerning viral clearance in some SARS and COVID-19 studies, treatment with steroids may be limited to select patient populations with the necessary dose adjustments. Ongoing clinical trials will further elucidate upon the applicability of steroids as well as the role of other neuroendocrine agents, such as ACE inhibitors or ARBs, in the treatment of COVID-19.
 

Behavioral manifestations and psychosocial health

As far as the stress response is concerned, an analysis performed by researchers in China after the COVID-19 outbreak found gender disparities in symptom expression. In the study (n = 1,210) the researchers found in female citizens a greater frequency of behavioral manifestations, including acute stress reaction, and symptoms of anxiety and mood disorders – namely, depression.⁷ Patient perception and awareness of the perils of coronavirus typically varied across the spectrum; some individuals reportedly undermined and devalued their risk of contracting COVID-19 – these patients may benefit from therapeutic modalities, such as cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), as a means of challenging their firmly entrenched cognitive distortions. CBT is an effective tool in addressing maladaptive coping responses, because these strategies tend to correspond with poor prognosis with respect to overall mental health. Aside from CBT, the clinician may advise other behavioral techniques, such as relaxation training, with the aim of controlling the symptoms of mood and anxiety disorders.

We often take for granted general pandemic safety precautions, such as maintaining physical distancing coupled with engaging in regular hand hygiene and wearing masks, but these actions also are known to alleviate mental anguish. Access to accurate and easy-to-consume health information regarding COVID-19 is also associated with psychological well-being during the quarantine.⁸

An intriguing “phenomenon” has emerged in the form of “panic buying.”However, researchers reported in the peer-reviewed journal Nature Human Behaviour that this pattern of behaviors is not typical for those under distress and represents an overstated misnomer of sorts. According to Jay J. Van Bavel, PhD, and associates, prevailing reports from news outlets have skewed the features of a panic. “News stories that employ the language of panic often create the very phenomena that they purport to condemn,” Dr. Van Bavel and associates wrote. “They can foster the very individualism and competitiveness that turn sensible preparations into dysfunctional stockpiling and undermine the sense of collective purpose which facilitates people supporting one another during an emergency.”⁹

The researchers proceeded to highlight the scope of effective crisis leadership with respect to establishing a sense of communal “self-efficacy and hope.” The influence of organized leadership serves to solidify the structure of the community as a whole, allowing group members the opportunity to address the stressors of interest. Such leadership may mitigate the stress response by fostering a necessary, healthy set for stress management.

Strategies aimed at supporting mental health

Coping and stress management strategies may include the process of building virtual networks (e.g., social media platforms) because physical distancing may contribute toward further isolation and social estrangement. However, it should be noted that ideally social media consumption should be centered upon interactive enrichment activities that provide a suitable substitute for the absence of physical support systems. The goal is to facilitate meaningful relationships and enduring communications that produce healthy and resilient mindsets.

In particular, individuals who possess adaptive mindsets with a realistic view of ongoing psychosocial stressors, be it from the impact of the pandemic or other influential events, are more likely to benefit when moving forward with life. In other words, the individual in question leverages these experiences as a means of “stress-related growth,” thereby enhancing the overall quality of relationships. Tentative studies in stress management have yielded promising support for interventions that aim to modulate mindsets (as a function of the stress response) by proper appraisal of the stress stimuli, according to Dr. Van Bavel and associates.
 

Employing assessment scales

To mitigate the stress response, clinicians need to use the relevant stress scales for assessing the full impact of distress brought on by COVID-19 and optimizing therapeutic modalities for those who need them most. Again, the stress response would vary, depending on the patient, and may include paranoia, xenophobia, compulsive ritualistic behavior, as well as full-fledged symptoms of acute stress disorder/PTSD.Steven Taylor, PhD, RPsych, and associates, part of a research team funded by the Canadian Institutes of Health Research and the University of Regina (Sask.), formulated their proprietary COVID Stress Scales (CSS) based on 36 items pertaining to individual anxiety and/or stress responses.¹⁰

As general purpose pandemic scales, the assessment tools will be transferable to similar outbreaks, and have been examined for validity and reliability. Additional validation scales include the Patient Health Questionnaire–4 for anxiety and depression, the Short Health Anxiety Inventory for anxiety (irrespective of physical condition), and the Marlowe-Crowne Social Desirability Scale–Short Form for psychological well-being based on the presence (or the lack thereof) of desirable characteristics.¹⁰ As a composite scale and predictive tool (especially with respect to future pandemics), the CSS allows clinicians a means of identifying the people who are most compliant with safety procedures, social distancing, hygiene expectations, and vaccine protocols – when applicable – reported Dr. Taylor and associates.
 

Moving forward: The next step in COVID-19 preparedness

As clinicians continue to develop guidelines that are befitting of COVID-19’s “new normal,” a holistic psychosocial framework will need to integrate the various psychometrics gathered from assessment scales, as well as understanding trauma, especially with respect to the HPA axis.

For starters, there is a certain element of “anticipatory anxiety” for those experiencing distress from COVID-19. A highly uncertain future with no immediate cure in the future, isolation and social estrangement, as well as financial setbacks, compound the situation. Moreover, the DSM fails to acknowledge other sources of traumatic experiences that are systemic in nature, such as discriminatory practices, injustice, and/or persecution.

It has also been noted that some distressed individuals experience a hypervigilant state that is comparable with PTSD.¹¹ There may be a push to incorporate machine learning and other modalities to better identify those at risk (for example, health care professionals who perform their duties with limited resources, thereby inducing sleep dysregulation, anxiety, and hopelessness) for mental health deterioration. Interventions may need to be coordinated in a timely manner to disrupt the progression of acute stress disorder to PTSD. Peer support programs and resiliency training – successful therapeutic approaches for PTSD – may prove to have considerable utility for mitigating the overall stress response of COVID-19.¹²

References

1. “Red Cross offering online course to manage crisis-related stress.” ABC 6 News. kaaltv.com, 2020 Aug 29.

2. Islam FA, Choudhry C. J Psychiatry Psychiatric Disord 2017;1(5): 290-3.

3. Faravelli C et al. World J Psychiatry. 2012 Feb 22;2(1):13-25.

4. Carmassi C et al. Psychiatry Res. 2015 Jan 30;225(1-2):64-9.

5. Pal R. Endocrine. 2020 Apr 28. doi: 10.1007/s12020-020-02325-1.

6. Steenblock C et al. Mol Psychiatry. 2020 May. doi: 10.1038/s41380-020-0758-9.

7. Wang C et al. Int J Environ Res Public Health. 2020 Jan;17(5):1729.

8. Ho CS et al. Ann Acad Med Singap. 2020 Mar 16;49(3):155-60.

9. Van Bavel JJ et al. Nat Hum Behav. 2020 Apr 30. doi: 10.1038/s41562-020-0884-z.

10. Taylor S et al. J Anxiety Disord. 2020 May 4;72:102232.

11. Horesh D, Brown AD. Psychol Trauma. 2020 May;12(4):331-5.

12. Clark H et al. National Health Library and Knowledge Service/Evidence Team. Summary of Evidence: COVID-19, 2020 May 22. Version 2.0.

Dr. Faisal A. Islam is a medical adviser for the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation, Montreal, and is based in New York. He also is a postdoctoral fellow, psychopharmacologist, and a board-certified medical affairs specialist. Dr. Mohammed S. Islam is a research physician and extern at Interfaith Medical Center, New York. Dr. Choudhry is the chief scientific officer and head of the department of mental health and clinical research at the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation. Dr. Jolayemi is an attending psychiatrist at Interfaith Medical Center. No disclosures were reported.

Psychological First Aid is an innovative program launched by the American Red Cross with the goal of addressing issues of concern such as those stemming from COVID-19–related stress. According to Red Cross mental health volunteer representative Deb Butman-Perkins, the program provides “a general overview of what does stress look like, how do we feel it, how do we recognize it in our bodies ... physical, emotional, spiritual, physiological, where does all that stress occur?”¹

The program brings a spotlight to the interdisciplinary nature of the stress response, especially with respect to the importance of developing the necessary coping skills during an ongoing crisis. However, to effectively evaluate and manage the overall stress response for psychiatric patients during quarantine conditions, as well as those who are formally diagnosed with COVID-19, clinicians also will need to revisit what we’ve learned about the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis.

We know that the stress response – which varies somewhat across the spectrum – is necessary to ensure homeostatic regulation. A feedback loop is initiated at the receptor level, involving a myriad of hormones and chemical signals that bring forth the body’s “flight-or-fight” response. Hormones such as epinephrine/norepinephrine and cortisol are secreted by the HPA axis in reaction to the stress response, resulting in a spike in heart rate, blood pressure, and transient hyperglycemia, respectively. In particular, hyperglycemia provides immediate energy to muscles during a perceived crisis.²

In addition, prolonged exposure to living in quarantine can lead to feelings of isolation and estrangement – and excessive anxiety. Combined, those conditions may exert an indelible effect on the HPA axis – leading to a warped pattern of cortisol secretion with respect to baseline.³ (It has been noted in the literature that serum cortisol plays a protective role in thwarting off the effects of PTSD development. Consistent with this line of thinking, military personnel have been preemptively treated with high-dose cortisol during acute exposure.)

Prolonged exposure to psychosocial stressors also increases the overall risk of developing medical comorbidities. Patients who adopt maladaptive responses to traumatic events, for example, may experience dysregulation in eating behaviors and/or disordered sleep.⁴

In light of those realities, clinicians should explore the role of steroid therapy as a means of treating mental health patients experiencing psychological stress formation tied to ongoing quarantine conditions.
 

Challenges of neuroendocrine medications for COVID-19

COVID-19, caused by exposure to SARS-CoV-2, adeptly leverages the ACE2 receptor of the lungs as an entry point to evade the host’s defenses. It should be noted that the ACE2 protein is expressed on the cells of multiple organs of the body, including the adrenals, which are largely responsible for coordinating the stress response of the HPA axis.

Postmortem analysis from severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS-CoV is also from the Coronaviridae family) patients indicates the presence of necrotic adrenal cells, further solidifying the association of the HPA axis to the COVID-19 disease state and pathophysiological course.⁵ Molecular mimicry of the adrenocorticotropic hormone allows SARS-CoV the ability to infiltrate the host’s defenses, in particular, the ability to mount a clinically apt cortisol stress response (e.g., hypocortisolism).As for those who survived the 2003 SARS outbreak, less than half of the patients have been observed to develop symptoms of frank hypocortisolism within a few months after exposure.

The World Health Organization recently endorsed the use of steroid therapy for critically ill COVID-19 patients, and an ongoing clinical trial is evaluating the safety and efficacy parameters of corticosteroids in COVID-19–exposed patients.

In addition, there is reason to believe that application of prophylactic steroids might affect the overall clinical course of COVID-19, thereby reducing mortality and morbidity rates in patients with severe presentation, such as septic shock. The rationale for this line of thought is based on the ability of glucocorticoids to suppress an ensuing cytokine storm by the virus in question.^5,6 In clinical practice, steroids have been used to treat a host of viral diseases, including influenza, respiratory syncytial virus, and Middle East respiratory syndrome coronavirus.

Aside from the selective use of corticosteroids, the medication regimen may incorporate ACE inhibitors and/or angiotensin receptor blockers (ARBs) because of COVID-19’s ability to activate the renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system with respect to the physiological stress response.

The interplay of the HPA axis with the sympathoadrenal system is responsible for adaptive behaviors in the individual. Disrupted feedback loops from prolonged activation are associated with numerous stress-based conditions in mental illness, namely, PTSD, anxiety, and mood disorders. We are concerned about frontline health care workers, who are particularly prone to chronic stress and burnout because of the cumbersome patient load and equipment shortage that have characterized the coronavirus crisis.

Timely administration of corticosteroids on a case-by-case basis would keep the cytokines at bay by precluding their undue activation of the HPA axis and corresponding cascade stress response. Steroids are also known to restore disrupted feedback loops at the level of the immune cells. However, because of conflicting reports concerning viral clearance in some SARS and COVID-19 studies, treatment with steroids may be limited to select patient populations with the necessary dose adjustments. Ongoing clinical trials will further elucidate upon the applicability of steroids as well as the role of other neuroendocrine agents, such as ACE inhibitors or ARBs, in the treatment of COVID-19.
 

Behavioral manifestations and psychosocial health

As far as the stress response is concerned, an analysis performed by researchers in China after the COVID-19 outbreak found gender disparities in symptom expression. In the study (n = 1,210) the researchers found in female citizens a greater frequency of behavioral manifestations, including acute stress reaction, and symptoms of anxiety and mood disorders – namely, depression.⁷ Patient perception and awareness of the perils of coronavirus typically varied across the spectrum; some individuals reportedly undermined and devalued their risk of contracting COVID-19 – these patients may benefit from therapeutic modalities, such as cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), as a means of challenging their firmly entrenched cognitive distortions. CBT is an effective tool in addressing maladaptive coping responses, because these strategies tend to correspond with poor prognosis with respect to overall mental health. Aside from CBT, the clinician may advise other behavioral techniques, such as relaxation training, with the aim of controlling the symptoms of mood and anxiety disorders.

We often take for granted general pandemic safety precautions, such as maintaining physical distancing coupled with engaging in regular hand hygiene and wearing masks, but these actions also are known to alleviate mental anguish. Access to accurate and easy-to-consume health information regarding COVID-19 is also associated with psychological well-being during the quarantine.⁸

An intriguing “phenomenon” has emerged in the form of “panic buying.”However, researchers reported in the peer-reviewed journal Nature Human Behaviour that this pattern of behaviors is not typical for those under distress and represents an overstated misnomer of sorts. According to Jay J. Van Bavel, PhD, and associates, prevailing reports from news outlets have skewed the features of a panic. “News stories that employ the language of panic often create the very phenomena that they purport to condemn,” Dr. Van Bavel and associates wrote. “They can foster the very individualism and competitiveness that turn sensible preparations into dysfunctional stockpiling and undermine the sense of collective purpose which facilitates people supporting one another during an emergency.”⁹

The researchers proceeded to highlight the scope of effective crisis leadership with respect to establishing a sense of communal “self-efficacy and hope.” The influence of organized leadership serves to solidify the structure of the community as a whole, allowing group members the opportunity to address the stressors of interest. Such leadership may mitigate the stress response by fostering a necessary, healthy set for stress management.

Strategies aimed at supporting mental health

Coping and stress management strategies may include the process of building virtual networks (e.g., social media platforms) because physical distancing may contribute toward further isolation and social estrangement. However, it should be noted that ideally social media consumption should be centered upon interactive enrichment activities that provide a suitable substitute for the absence of physical support systems. The goal is to facilitate meaningful relationships and enduring communications that produce healthy and resilient mindsets.

In particular, individuals who possess adaptive mindsets with a realistic view of ongoing psychosocial stressors, be it from the impact of the pandemic or other influential events, are more likely to benefit when moving forward with life. In other words, the individual in question leverages these experiences as a means of “stress-related growth,” thereby enhancing the overall quality of relationships. Tentative studies in stress management have yielded promising support for interventions that aim to modulate mindsets (as a function of the stress response) by proper appraisal of the stress stimuli, according to Dr. Van Bavel and associates.
 

Employing assessment scales

To mitigate the stress response, clinicians need to use the relevant stress scales for assessing the full impact of distress brought on by COVID-19 and optimizing therapeutic modalities for those who need them most. Again, the stress response would vary, depending on the patient, and may include paranoia, xenophobia, compulsive ritualistic behavior, as well as full-fledged symptoms of acute stress disorder/PTSD.Steven Taylor, PhD, RPsych, and associates, part of a research team funded by the Canadian Institutes of Health Research and the University of Regina (Sask.), formulated their proprietary COVID Stress Scales (CSS) based on 36 items pertaining to individual anxiety and/or stress responses.¹⁰

As general purpose pandemic scales, the assessment tools will be transferable to similar outbreaks, and have been examined for validity and reliability. Additional validation scales include the Patient Health Questionnaire–4 for anxiety and depression, the Short Health Anxiety Inventory for anxiety (irrespective of physical condition), and the Marlowe-Crowne Social Desirability Scale–Short Form for psychological well-being based on the presence (or the lack thereof) of desirable characteristics.¹⁰ As a composite scale and predictive tool (especially with respect to future pandemics), the CSS allows clinicians a means of identifying the people who are most compliant with safety procedures, social distancing, hygiene expectations, and vaccine protocols – when applicable – reported Dr. Taylor and associates.
 

Moving forward: The next step in COVID-19 preparedness

As clinicians continue to develop guidelines that are befitting of COVID-19’s “new normal,” a holistic psychosocial framework will need to integrate the various psychometrics gathered from assessment scales, as well as understanding trauma, especially with respect to the HPA axis.

For starters, there is a certain element of “anticipatory anxiety” for those experiencing distress from COVID-19. A highly uncertain future with no immediate cure in the future, isolation and social estrangement, as well as financial setbacks, compound the situation. Moreover, the DSM fails to acknowledge other sources of traumatic experiences that are systemic in nature, such as discriminatory practices, injustice, and/or persecution.

It has also been noted that some distressed individuals experience a hypervigilant state that is comparable with PTSD.¹¹ There may be a push to incorporate machine learning and other modalities to better identify those at risk (for example, health care professionals who perform their duties with limited resources, thereby inducing sleep dysregulation, anxiety, and hopelessness) for mental health deterioration. Interventions may need to be coordinated in a timely manner to disrupt the progression of acute stress disorder to PTSD. Peer support programs and resiliency training – successful therapeutic approaches for PTSD – may prove to have considerable utility for mitigating the overall stress response of COVID-19.¹²

References

1. “Red Cross offering online course to manage crisis-related stress.” ABC 6 News. kaaltv.com, 2020 Aug 29.

2. Islam FA, Choudhry C. J Psychiatry Psychiatric Disord 2017;1(5): 290-3.

3. Faravelli C et al. World J Psychiatry. 2012 Feb 22;2(1):13-25.

4. Carmassi C et al. Psychiatry Res. 2015 Jan 30;225(1-2):64-9.

5. Pal R. Endocrine. 2020 Apr 28. doi: 10.1007/s12020-020-02325-1.

6. Steenblock C et al. Mol Psychiatry. 2020 May. doi: 10.1038/s41380-020-0758-9.

7. Wang C et al. Int J Environ Res Public Health. 2020 Jan;17(5):1729.

8. Ho CS et al. Ann Acad Med Singap. 2020 Mar 16;49(3):155-60.

9. Van Bavel JJ et al. Nat Hum Behav. 2020 Apr 30. doi: 10.1038/s41562-020-0884-z.

10. Taylor S et al. J Anxiety Disord. 2020 May 4;72:102232.

11. Horesh D, Brown AD. Psychol Trauma. 2020 May;12(4):331-5.

12. Clark H et al. National Health Library and Knowledge Service/Evidence Team. Summary of Evidence: COVID-19, 2020 May 22. Version 2.0.

Dr. Faisal A. Islam is a medical adviser for the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation, Montreal, and is based in New York. He also is a postdoctoral fellow, psychopharmacologist, and a board-certified medical affairs specialist. Dr. Mohammed S. Islam is a research physician and extern at Interfaith Medical Center, New York. Dr. Choudhry is the chief scientific officer and head of the department of mental health and clinical research at the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation. Dr. Jolayemi is an attending psychiatrist at Interfaith Medical Center. No disclosures were reported.

Psychological First Aid is an innovative program launched by the American Red Cross with the goal of addressing issues of concern such as those stemming from COVID-19–related stress. According to Red Cross mental health volunteer representative Deb Butman-Perkins, the program provides “a general overview of what does stress look like, how do we feel it, how do we recognize it in our bodies ... physical, emotional, spiritual, physiological, where does all that stress occur?”¹

The program brings a spotlight to the interdisciplinary nature of the stress response, especially with respect to the importance of developing the necessary coping skills during an ongoing crisis. However, to effectively evaluate and manage the overall stress response for psychiatric patients during quarantine conditions, as well as those who are formally diagnosed with COVID-19, clinicians also will need to revisit what we’ve learned about the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis.

We know that the stress response – which varies somewhat across the spectrum – is necessary to ensure homeostatic regulation. A feedback loop is initiated at the receptor level, involving a myriad of hormones and chemical signals that bring forth the body’s “flight-or-fight” response. Hormones such as epinephrine/norepinephrine and cortisol are secreted by the HPA axis in reaction to the stress response, resulting in a spike in heart rate, blood pressure, and transient hyperglycemia, respectively. In particular, hyperglycemia provides immediate energy to muscles during a perceived crisis.²

In addition, prolonged exposure to living in quarantine can lead to feelings of isolation and estrangement – and excessive anxiety. Combined, those conditions may exert an indelible effect on the HPA axis – leading to a warped pattern of cortisol secretion with respect to baseline.³ (It has been noted in the literature that serum cortisol plays a protective role in thwarting off the effects of PTSD development. Consistent with this line of thinking, military personnel have been preemptively treated with high-dose cortisol during acute exposure.)

Prolonged exposure to psychosocial stressors also increases the overall risk of developing medical comorbidities. Patients who adopt maladaptive responses to traumatic events, for example, may experience dysregulation in eating behaviors and/or disordered sleep.⁴

In light of those realities, clinicians should explore the role of steroid therapy as a means of treating mental health patients experiencing psychological stress formation tied to ongoing quarantine conditions.
 

Challenges of neuroendocrine medications for COVID-19

COVID-19, caused by exposure to SARS-CoV-2, adeptly leverages the ACE2 receptor of the lungs as an entry point to evade the host’s defenses. It should be noted that the ACE2 protein is expressed on the cells of multiple organs of the body, including the adrenals, which are largely responsible for coordinating the stress response of the HPA axis.

Postmortem analysis from severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS-CoV is also from the Coronaviridae family) patients indicates the presence of necrotic adrenal cells, further solidifying the association of the HPA axis to the COVID-19 disease state and pathophysiological course.⁵ Molecular mimicry of the adrenocorticotropic hormone allows SARS-CoV the ability to infiltrate the host’s defenses, in particular, the ability to mount a clinically apt cortisol stress response (e.g., hypocortisolism).As for those who survived the 2003 SARS outbreak, less than half of the patients have been observed to develop symptoms of frank hypocortisolism within a few months after exposure.

The World Health Organization recently endorsed the use of steroid therapy for critically ill COVID-19 patients, and an ongoing clinical trial is evaluating the safety and efficacy parameters of corticosteroids in COVID-19–exposed patients.

In addition, there is reason to believe that application of prophylactic steroids might affect the overall clinical course of COVID-19, thereby reducing mortality and morbidity rates in patients with severe presentation, such as septic shock. The rationale for this line of thought is based on the ability of glucocorticoids to suppress an ensuing cytokine storm by the virus in question.^5,6 In clinical practice, steroids have been used to treat a host of viral diseases, including influenza, respiratory syncytial virus, and Middle East respiratory syndrome coronavirus.

Aside from the selective use of corticosteroids, the medication regimen may incorporate ACE inhibitors and/or angiotensin receptor blockers (ARBs) because of COVID-19’s ability to activate the renin-angiotensin-aldosterone system with respect to the physiological stress response.

The interplay of the HPA axis with the sympathoadrenal system is responsible for adaptive behaviors in the individual. Disrupted feedback loops from prolonged activation are associated with numerous stress-based conditions in mental illness, namely, PTSD, anxiety, and mood disorders. We are concerned about frontline health care workers, who are particularly prone to chronic stress and burnout because of the cumbersome patient load and equipment shortage that have characterized the coronavirus crisis.

Timely administration of corticosteroids on a case-by-case basis would keep the cytokines at bay by precluding their undue activation of the HPA axis and corresponding cascade stress response. Steroids are also known to restore disrupted feedback loops at the level of the immune cells. However, because of conflicting reports concerning viral clearance in some SARS and COVID-19 studies, treatment with steroids may be limited to select patient populations with the necessary dose adjustments. Ongoing clinical trials will further elucidate upon the applicability of steroids as well as the role of other neuroendocrine agents, such as ACE inhibitors or ARBs, in the treatment of COVID-19.
 

Behavioral manifestations and psychosocial health

As far as the stress response is concerned, an analysis performed by researchers in China after the COVID-19 outbreak found gender disparities in symptom expression. In the study (n = 1,210) the researchers found in female citizens a greater frequency of behavioral manifestations, including acute stress reaction, and symptoms of anxiety and mood disorders – namely, depression.⁷ Patient perception and awareness of the perils of coronavirus typically varied across the spectrum; some individuals reportedly undermined and devalued their risk of contracting COVID-19 – these patients may benefit from therapeutic modalities, such as cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), as a means of challenging their firmly entrenched cognitive distortions. CBT is an effective tool in addressing maladaptive coping responses, because these strategies tend to correspond with poor prognosis with respect to overall mental health. Aside from CBT, the clinician may advise other behavioral techniques, such as relaxation training, with the aim of controlling the symptoms of mood and anxiety disorders.

We often take for granted general pandemic safety precautions, such as maintaining physical distancing coupled with engaging in regular hand hygiene and wearing masks, but these actions also are known to alleviate mental anguish. Access to accurate and easy-to-consume health information regarding COVID-19 is also associated with psychological well-being during the quarantine.⁸

An intriguing “phenomenon” has emerged in the form of “panic buying.”However, researchers reported in the peer-reviewed journal Nature Human Behaviour that this pattern of behaviors is not typical for those under distress and represents an overstated misnomer of sorts. According to Jay J. Van Bavel, PhD, and associates, prevailing reports from news outlets have skewed the features of a panic. “News stories that employ the language of panic often create the very phenomena that they purport to condemn,” Dr. Van Bavel and associates wrote. “They can foster the very individualism and competitiveness that turn sensible preparations into dysfunctional stockpiling and undermine the sense of collective purpose which facilitates people supporting one another during an emergency.”⁹

The researchers proceeded to highlight the scope of effective crisis leadership with respect to establishing a sense of communal “self-efficacy and hope.” The influence of organized leadership serves to solidify the structure of the community as a whole, allowing group members the opportunity to address the stressors of interest. Such leadership may mitigate the stress response by fostering a necessary, healthy set for stress management.

Strategies aimed at supporting mental health

Coping and stress management strategies may include the process of building virtual networks (e.g., social media platforms) because physical distancing may contribute toward further isolation and social estrangement. However, it should be noted that ideally social media consumption should be centered upon interactive enrichment activities that provide a suitable substitute for the absence of physical support systems. The goal is to facilitate meaningful relationships and enduring communications that produce healthy and resilient mindsets.

In particular, individuals who possess adaptive mindsets with a realistic view of ongoing psychosocial stressors, be it from the impact of the pandemic or other influential events, are more likely to benefit when moving forward with life. In other words, the individual in question leverages these experiences as a means of “stress-related growth,” thereby enhancing the overall quality of relationships. Tentative studies in stress management have yielded promising support for interventions that aim to modulate mindsets (as a function of the stress response) by proper appraisal of the stress stimuli, according to Dr. Van Bavel and associates.
 

Employing assessment scales

To mitigate the stress response, clinicians need to use the relevant stress scales for assessing the full impact of distress brought on by COVID-19 and optimizing therapeutic modalities for those who need them most. Again, the stress response would vary, depending on the patient, and may include paranoia, xenophobia, compulsive ritualistic behavior, as well as full-fledged symptoms of acute stress disorder/PTSD.Steven Taylor, PhD, RPsych, and associates, part of a research team funded by the Canadian Institutes of Health Research and the University of Regina (Sask.), formulated their proprietary COVID Stress Scales (CSS) based on 36 items pertaining to individual anxiety and/or stress responses.¹⁰

As general purpose pandemic scales, the assessment tools will be transferable to similar outbreaks, and have been examined for validity and reliability. Additional validation scales include the Patient Health Questionnaire–4 for anxiety and depression, the Short Health Anxiety Inventory for anxiety (irrespective of physical condition), and the Marlowe-Crowne Social Desirability Scale–Short Form for psychological well-being based on the presence (or the lack thereof) of desirable characteristics.¹⁰ As a composite scale and predictive tool (especially with respect to future pandemics), the CSS allows clinicians a means of identifying the people who are most compliant with safety procedures, social distancing, hygiene expectations, and vaccine protocols – when applicable – reported Dr. Taylor and associates.
 

Moving forward: The next step in COVID-19 preparedness

As clinicians continue to develop guidelines that are befitting of COVID-19’s “new normal,” a holistic psychosocial framework will need to integrate the various psychometrics gathered from assessment scales, as well as understanding trauma, especially with respect to the HPA axis.

For starters, there is a certain element of “anticipatory anxiety” for those experiencing distress from COVID-19. A highly uncertain future with no immediate cure in the future, isolation and social estrangement, as well as financial setbacks, compound the situation. Moreover, the DSM fails to acknowledge other sources of traumatic experiences that are systemic in nature, such as discriminatory practices, injustice, and/or persecution.

It has also been noted that some distressed individuals experience a hypervigilant state that is comparable with PTSD.¹¹ There may be a push to incorporate machine learning and other modalities to better identify those at risk (for example, health care professionals who perform their duties with limited resources, thereby inducing sleep dysregulation, anxiety, and hopelessness) for mental health deterioration. Interventions may need to be coordinated in a timely manner to disrupt the progression of acute stress disorder to PTSD. Peer support programs and resiliency training – successful therapeutic approaches for PTSD – may prove to have considerable utility for mitigating the overall stress response of COVID-19.¹²

References

1. “Red Cross offering online course to manage crisis-related stress.” ABC 6 News. kaaltv.com, 2020 Aug 29.

2. Islam FA, Choudhry C. J Psychiatry Psychiatric Disord 2017;1(5): 290-3.

3. Faravelli C et al. World J Psychiatry. 2012 Feb 22;2(1):13-25.

4. Carmassi C et al. Psychiatry Res. 2015 Jan 30;225(1-2):64-9.

5. Pal R. Endocrine. 2020 Apr 28. doi: 10.1007/s12020-020-02325-1.

6. Steenblock C et al. Mol Psychiatry. 2020 May. doi: 10.1038/s41380-020-0758-9.

7. Wang C et al. Int J Environ Res Public Health. 2020 Jan;17(5):1729.

8. Ho CS et al. Ann Acad Med Singap. 2020 Mar 16;49(3):155-60.

9. Van Bavel JJ et al. Nat Hum Behav. 2020 Apr 30. doi: 10.1038/s41562-020-0884-z.

10. Taylor S et al. J Anxiety Disord. 2020 May 4;72:102232.

11. Horesh D, Brown AD. Psychol Trauma. 2020 May;12(4):331-5.

12. Clark H et al. National Health Library and Knowledge Service/Evidence Team. Summary of Evidence: COVID-19, 2020 May 22. Version 2.0.

Dr. Faisal A. Islam is a medical adviser for the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation, Montreal, and is based in New York. He also is a postdoctoral fellow, psychopharmacologist, and a board-certified medical affairs specialist. Dr. Mohammed S. Islam is a research physician and extern at Interfaith Medical Center, New York. Dr. Choudhry is the chief scientific officer and head of the department of mental health and clinical research at the International Maternal and Child Health Foundation. Dr. Jolayemi is an attending psychiatrist at Interfaith Medical Center. No disclosures were reported.

I have been studying, writing about, and treating posttraumatic stress disorder for many years. Over this time, I have seen PTSD expand to more and more areas of life, including my own view of a “subthreshold” version, which occurs in vulnerable people who experience a job loss, divorce, financial setbacks, or any number of painful life events.

As I noted in my recent book, “Find Freedom Fast,” for some people, PTSD can be triggered in the wake of events that are not life-threatening yet catastrophic for them and not tied to manmade or natural disasters, torture, assault, or war zone experiences.

The expansion of PTSD has led to the disorder being recognized in ICU patients during and after recovery (Crit Care Med. 2015 May;43[5]:1121-9), as well as in people diagnosed with cancer (Lancet Psychiatry. 2017 Apr;4[4]:330-8) and other illnesses that may cause emotional trauma – where one feels that one’s life is threatened. In some instances, the person’s life might indeed be in danger, not unlike what can happen in disasters, wars, torture, and even in some encounters with law enforcement.

This leads me to yet another circumstance that in some, may be tied to PTSD – and that is racial, religious, ethnic, and gender-related bigotry. In these cases, individuals feel threatened just for who they are in a society. Being on the receiving end of a circumstance that threatens a person’s very existence would seem to me to place a person as a potential survivor of PTSD, as well as any number of disorders, including anxiety, depression, or even paranoia.

Yes, discrimination and prejudice have been with us for a long time, and what concerns me is the psychological effect it has on children as well as adults. Friends of Irish descent remind me of hearing stories from parents and grandparents about employment signs reading, “Irish need not apply.” Certainly, those of Italian ancestry will easily recall the prejudice focused against them. And members of the Jewish community also can easily remember the bigotry and exclusion they have been subject to in certain neighborhoods and organizations, in addition to the horrors of the Holocaust during World War II, and the anti-Semitic chants in Charlottesville, Va., from just 3 years ago – with gun-carrying militants doing the chanting.

Obviously, in certain circles, we still have private clubs, plus neighborhoods and residential buildings that exclude people for a variety of reasons.

Coming from a medical family, years ago I heard stories that, if you were Roman Catholic, it would be hard to get into certain medical schools – which might explain the establishment of Catholic medical schools that often were open to people of other faiths. Then we had medical school discrimination toward Jewish students, which was followed by the establishment of medical schools focused on admitting more Jewish students. The African American community also responded to discrimination by establishing medical schools, such as the school at Howard University in Washington.

Furthermore, we cannot forget the discrimination that women faced in institutions of higher learning. My father had two women in his medical school class, I was told. In my era, I would say at least 30% were women, and today, in the United States, medical school classes are more equally balanced with men and women. Some schools have more women than men.

The question I ask, is: How did all those women feel for so many years knowing that, for reasons beyond their control, they were prevented from achieving their chosen goals? Some might have felt badly, and others might have internalized the rejection. Others might have developed PTSD based on feelings of rejection.

However, the question here mainly is: Can PTSD result when exclusion and prejudice induce fear and terror in those on the receiving end – especially innocent children? Children separated from their parents at the U.S.-Mexico border and those who witness their parents being shot immediately come to mind. This trauma can last well beyond childhood.

What we know today about structural racism should give the mental health community pause and make us realize the extent to which the African American community has been traumatized. Perhaps we should not be surprised by a study that found that the prevalence of PTSD among African Americans is 9.1%, compared with 6.8% for Whites (J Anxiety Dis. 2009 Jun;23[5]:573-90). Speaking with Black colleagues, friends, and patients, reading books such “The Warmth of Other Suns,” and watching films such as “Green Book,” give us a sense of how dangerous it was for Black families to travel in certain parts of the country in the recent past. I recall as a child hearing that, in Miami Beach, people of color could not stay overnight. (Even as a child I was surprised – having never heard anything like that. After all, I went to school with people of many religions and backgrounds. My parents thought those practices were terrible, and were appalled when they learned that some hotels were closed to Jews and others closed to Catholics.)
 

DSM-5, ICD-10 fall short

The DSM-5 describes trauma using a more or less one-dimensional set of guidelines as the focus. Those guidelines include exposure to direct violence, manmade or natural disasters, war, or torture, as well as exposure to a disaster or a life-threatening situation affecting a loved one. The ICD-10 is less restrictive about trauma but still has some limitations.

While considering potential PTSD, I try to use a less rigid diagnostic multidimensional approach, where I assess individual differences and experiences that play a role in those experiences as well as the patient’s vulnerability to the causation of PTSD – which also has to include any exposure to trauma (Curr Opin Psychol. 2017 Apr;14:29-34) before age 11 or 12. The data suggest that such early exposure leaves people more vulnerable to PTSD as adults (Soc Sci Med. 2018 Feb;199:230-40).

In my view, if individuals are frightened because of who they are – be it tied to their religion, race, sexual identity, or ethnicity – and what harm may come to them, and if they live in fear and avoidance of these potential traumatic situations that affect their mental stability and the way they live their lives, they might fit the PTSD model.

If we clinicians focus on what’s currently being brought vividly into the public eye today regarding the African American community, we would see that some of the ongoing fears of racism – whether tied to residential or workplace discrimination, unfair treatment by figures of authority, harassment, health inequities, or microaggressions – may give rise to PTSD. I know we can do better. We should broaden our definition and awareness of this very serious disorder – and be prepared to treat it.
 

Dr. London has been a practicing psychiatrist for 4 decades and a newspaper columnist for almost as long. He has a private practice in New York and is author of “Find Freedom Fast: Short-Term Therapy That Works” (New York: Kettlehole Publishing, 2019). Dr. London has no conflicts of interest.

I have been studying, writing about, and treating posttraumatic stress disorder for many years. Over this time, I have seen PTSD expand to more and more areas of life, including my own view of a “subthreshold” version, which occurs in vulnerable people who experience a job loss, divorce, financial setbacks, or any number of painful life events.

As I noted in my recent book, “Find Freedom Fast,” for some people, PTSD can be triggered in the wake of events that are not life-threatening yet catastrophic for them and not tied to manmade or natural disasters, torture, assault, or war zone experiences.

The expansion of PTSD has led to the disorder being recognized in ICU patients during and after recovery (Crit Care Med. 2015 May;43[5]:1121-9), as well as in people diagnosed with cancer (Lancet Psychiatry. 2017 Apr;4[4]:330-8) and other illnesses that may cause emotional trauma – where one feels that one’s life is threatened. In some instances, the person’s life might indeed be in danger, not unlike what can happen in disasters, wars, torture, and even in some encounters with law enforcement.

This leads me to yet another circumstance that in some, may be tied to PTSD – and that is racial, religious, ethnic, and gender-related bigotry. In these cases, individuals feel threatened just for who they are in a society. Being on the receiving end of a circumstance that threatens a person’s very existence would seem to me to place a person as a potential survivor of PTSD, as well as any number of disorders, including anxiety, depression, or even paranoia.

Yes, discrimination and prejudice have been with us for a long time, and what concerns me is the psychological effect it has on children as well as adults. Friends of Irish descent remind me of hearing stories from parents and grandparents about employment signs reading, “Irish need not apply.” Certainly, those of Italian ancestry will easily recall the prejudice focused against them. And members of the Jewish community also can easily remember the bigotry and exclusion they have been subject to in certain neighborhoods and organizations, in addition to the horrors of the Holocaust during World War II, and the anti-Semitic chants in Charlottesville, Va., from just 3 years ago – with gun-carrying militants doing the chanting.

Obviously, in certain circles, we still have private clubs, plus neighborhoods and residential buildings that exclude people for a variety of reasons.

Coming from a medical family, years ago I heard stories that, if you were Roman Catholic, it would be hard to get into certain medical schools – which might explain the establishment of Catholic medical schools that often were open to people of other faiths. Then we had medical school discrimination toward Jewish students, which was followed by the establishment of medical schools focused on admitting more Jewish students. The African American community also responded to discrimination by establishing medical schools, such as the school at Howard University in Washington.

Furthermore, we cannot forget the discrimination that women faced in institutions of higher learning. My father had two women in his medical school class, I was told. In my era, I would say at least 30% were women, and today, in the United States, medical school classes are more equally balanced with men and women. Some schools have more women than men.

The question I ask, is: How did all those women feel for so many years knowing that, for reasons beyond their control, they were prevented from achieving their chosen goals? Some might have felt badly, and others might have internalized the rejection. Others might have developed PTSD based on feelings of rejection.

However, the question here mainly is: Can PTSD result when exclusion and prejudice induce fear and terror in those on the receiving end – especially innocent children? Children separated from their parents at the U.S.-Mexico border and those who witness their parents being shot immediately come to mind. This trauma can last well beyond childhood.

What we know today about structural racism should give the mental health community pause and make us realize the extent to which the African American community has been traumatized. Perhaps we should not be surprised by a study that found that the prevalence of PTSD among African Americans is 9.1%, compared with 6.8% for Whites (J Anxiety Dis. 2009 Jun;23[5]:573-90). Speaking with Black colleagues, friends, and patients, reading books such “The Warmth of Other Suns,” and watching films such as “Green Book,” give us a sense of how dangerous it was for Black families to travel in certain parts of the country in the recent past. I recall as a child hearing that, in Miami Beach, people of color could not stay overnight. (Even as a child I was surprised – having never heard anything like that. After all, I went to school with people of many religions and backgrounds. My parents thought those practices were terrible, and were appalled when they learned that some hotels were closed to Jews and others closed to Catholics.)
 

DSM-5, ICD-10 fall short

The DSM-5 describes trauma using a more or less one-dimensional set of guidelines as the focus. Those guidelines include exposure to direct violence, manmade or natural disasters, war, or torture, as well as exposure to a disaster or a life-threatening situation affecting a loved one. The ICD-10 is less restrictive about trauma but still has some limitations.

While considering potential PTSD, I try to use a less rigid diagnostic multidimensional approach, where I assess individual differences and experiences that play a role in those experiences as well as the patient’s vulnerability to the causation of PTSD – which also has to include any exposure to trauma (Curr Opin Psychol. 2017 Apr;14:29-34) before age 11 or 12. The data suggest that such early exposure leaves people more vulnerable to PTSD as adults (Soc Sci Med. 2018 Feb;199:230-40).

In my view, if individuals are frightened because of who they are – be it tied to their religion, race, sexual identity, or ethnicity – and what harm may come to them, and if they live in fear and avoidance of these potential traumatic situations that affect their mental stability and the way they live their lives, they might fit the PTSD model.

If we clinicians focus on what’s currently being brought vividly into the public eye today regarding the African American community, we would see that some of the ongoing fears of racism – whether tied to residential or workplace discrimination, unfair treatment by figures of authority, harassment, health inequities, or microaggressions – may give rise to PTSD. I know we can do better. We should broaden our definition and awareness of this very serious disorder – and be prepared to treat it.
 

Dr. London has been a practicing psychiatrist for 4 decades and a newspaper columnist for almost as long. He has a private practice in New York and is author of “Find Freedom Fast: Short-Term Therapy That Works” (New York: Kettlehole Publishing, 2019). Dr. London has no conflicts of interest.

I have been studying, writing about, and treating posttraumatic stress disorder for many years. Over this time, I have seen PTSD expand to more and more areas of life, including my own view of a “subthreshold” version, which occurs in vulnerable people who experience a job loss, divorce, financial setbacks, or any number of painful life events.

As I noted in my recent book, “Find Freedom Fast,” for some people, PTSD can be triggered in the wake of events that are not life-threatening yet catastrophic for them and not tied to manmade or natural disasters, torture, assault, or war zone experiences.

The expansion of PTSD has led to the disorder being recognized in ICU patients during and after recovery (Crit Care Med. 2015 May;43[5]:1121-9), as well as in people diagnosed with cancer (Lancet Psychiatry. 2017 Apr;4[4]:330-8) and other illnesses that may cause emotional trauma – where one feels that one’s life is threatened. In some instances, the person’s life might indeed be in danger, not unlike what can happen in disasters, wars, torture, and even in some encounters with law enforcement.

This leads me to yet another circumstance that in some, may be tied to PTSD – and that is racial, religious, ethnic, and gender-related bigotry. In these cases, individuals feel threatened just for who they are in a society. Being on the receiving end of a circumstance that threatens a person’s very existence would seem to me to place a person as a potential survivor of PTSD, as well as any number of disorders, including anxiety, depression, or even paranoia.

Yes, discrimination and prejudice have been with us for a long time, and what concerns me is the psychological effect it has on children as well as adults. Friends of Irish descent remind me of hearing stories from parents and grandparents about employment signs reading, “Irish need not apply.” Certainly, those of Italian ancestry will easily recall the prejudice focused against them. And members of the Jewish community also can easily remember the bigotry and exclusion they have been subject to in certain neighborhoods and organizations, in addition to the horrors of the Holocaust during World War II, and the anti-Semitic chants in Charlottesville, Va., from just 3 years ago – with gun-carrying militants doing the chanting.

Obviously, in certain circles, we still have private clubs, plus neighborhoods and residential buildings that exclude people for a variety of reasons.

Coming from a medical family, years ago I heard stories that, if you were Roman Catholic, it would be hard to get into certain medical schools – which might explain the establishment of Catholic medical schools that often were open to people of other faiths. Then we had medical school discrimination toward Jewish students, which was followed by the establishment of medical schools focused on admitting more Jewish students. The African American community also responded to discrimination by establishing medical schools, such as the school at Howard University in Washington.

Furthermore, we cannot forget the discrimination that women faced in institutions of higher learning. My father had two women in his medical school class, I was told. In my era, I would say at least 30% were women, and today, in the United States, medical school classes are more equally balanced with men and women. Some schools have more women than men.

The question I ask, is: How did all those women feel for so many years knowing that, for reasons beyond their control, they were prevented from achieving their chosen goals? Some might have felt badly, and others might have internalized the rejection. Others might have developed PTSD based on feelings of rejection.

However, the question here mainly is: Can PTSD result when exclusion and prejudice induce fear and terror in those on the receiving end – especially innocent children? Children separated from their parents at the U.S.-Mexico border and those who witness their parents being shot immediately come to mind. This trauma can last well beyond childhood.

What we know today about structural racism should give the mental health community pause and make us realize the extent to which the African American community has been traumatized. Perhaps we should not be surprised by a study that found that the prevalence of PTSD among African Americans is 9.1%, compared with 6.8% for Whites (J Anxiety Dis. 2009 Jun;23[5]:573-90). Speaking with Black colleagues, friends, and patients, reading books such “The Warmth of Other Suns,” and watching films such as “Green Book,” give us a sense of how dangerous it was for Black families to travel in certain parts of the country in the recent past. I recall as a child hearing that, in Miami Beach, people of color could not stay overnight. (Even as a child I was surprised – having never heard anything like that. After all, I went to school with people of many religions and backgrounds. My parents thought those practices were terrible, and were appalled when they learned that some hotels were closed to Jews and others closed to Catholics.)
 

DSM-5, ICD-10 fall short

The DSM-5 describes trauma using a more or less one-dimensional set of guidelines as the focus. Those guidelines include exposure to direct violence, manmade or natural disasters, war, or torture, as well as exposure to a disaster or a life-threatening situation affecting a loved one. The ICD-10 is less restrictive about trauma but still has some limitations.

While considering potential PTSD, I try to use a less rigid diagnostic multidimensional approach, where I assess individual differences and experiences that play a role in those experiences as well as the patient’s vulnerability to the causation of PTSD – which also has to include any exposure to trauma (Curr Opin Psychol. 2017 Apr;14:29-34) before age 11 or 12. The data suggest that such early exposure leaves people more vulnerable to PTSD as adults (Soc Sci Med. 2018 Feb;199:230-40).

In my view, if individuals are frightened because of who they are – be it tied to their religion, race, sexual identity, or ethnicity – and what harm may come to them, and if they live in fear and avoidance of these potential traumatic situations that affect their mental stability and the way they live their lives, they might fit the PTSD model.

If we clinicians focus on what’s currently being brought vividly into the public eye today regarding the African American community, we would see that some of the ongoing fears of racism – whether tied to residential or workplace discrimination, unfair treatment by figures of authority, harassment, health inequities, or microaggressions – may give rise to PTSD. I know we can do better. We should broaden our definition and awareness of this very serious disorder – and be prepared to treat it.
 

Dr. London has been a practicing psychiatrist for 4 decades and a newspaper columnist for almost as long. He has a private practice in New York and is author of “Find Freedom Fast: Short-Term Therapy That Works” (New York: Kettlehole Publishing, 2019). Dr. London has no conflicts of interest.

Individuals are more worried about family members becoming ill with COVID-19 or about unknowingly transmitting the disease to family members than they are about contracting it themselves, results of a new survey show.

Investigators surveyed over 3,000 adults, using an online questionnaire. Of the respondents, about 20% were health care workers, and most were living in locations with active stay-at-home orders at the time of the survey.

Interactive platform

“The pandemic has provided a unique opportunity to study resilience in healthcare professionals and others,” said Barzilay, assistant professor at the Lifespan Brain Institute, a collaboration between CHOP and the University of Pennsylvania, under the directorship of Raquel Gur, MD, PhD.

“After the pandemic broke out in March, we launched a website in early April where we surveyed people for levels of resilience, mental health, and well-being during the outbreak,” he added.

Tend and befriend

Ten days into the survey, data were available on 3,042 participants (64% women, 54% with advanced education, 20.5% health care providers), who ranged in age from 18 to 70 years (mean [SD], 38.9 [11.9] years).

After accounting for covariates, the researchers found that participants reported more distress about family members contracting COVID-19 and about unknowingly infecting others than about getting COVID-19 themselves (48.5% and 36% vs. 19.9%, respectively; P < .0005).

Increased COVID-19-related worries were associated with 22% higher anxiety and 16.1% higher depression scores; women had higher scores than men on both.

Each 1-SD increase in the composite score of COVID-19 worries was associated with over twice the increased probability of generalized anxiety and depression (odds ratio, 2.23; 95% confidence interval, 1.88-2.65; and OR, 1.67; 95% CI, 1.41-1.98, respectively; for both, P < .001).

On the other hand, for every 1-SD increase in the resilience score, there was a 64.9% decrease in the possibility of screening positive for generalized anxiety disorder and a 69.3% decrease in the possibility of screening positive for depression (for both, P < .0001).

Compared to participants from Israel, US participants were “more stressed” about contracting, dying from, and currently having COVID-19 themselves. Overall, Israeli participants scored higher than US participants on the resilience scale.

Rates of anxiety and depression did not differ significantly between healthcare providers and others. Health care providers worried more about contracting COVID-19 themselves and worried less about finances after COVID-19.

The authors propose that survey participants were more worried about others than about themselves because of “prosocial behavior under stress” and “tend-and-befriend,” whereby, “in response to threat, humans tend to protect their close ones (tending) and seek out their social group for mutual defense (befriending).”

This type of altruistic behavior has been “described in acute situations throughout history” and has been “linked to mechanisms of resilience for overcoming adversity,” the authors indicate.
 

Demographic biases

Commenting on the findings for Medscape Medical News, Golnaz Tabibnia, PhD, a neuroscientist at the University of California, Irvine, who was not involved in the research, suggested that although higher resilience scores were associated with lower COVID-related worries, it is possible, “as the authors suggest, that having more resilience resources makes you less worried, but the causality could go the other direction as well, and less worry/rumination may lead to more resilience.”

Also commenting on the study for Medscape Medical News, Christiaan Vinkers, MD, PhD, a psychiatrist at the Amsterdam University Medical Center, Amsterdam, the Netherlands, said it was noteworthy that healthcare providers reported similar levels of mood and anxiety symptoms, compared to others.

“This is encouraging, as it suggests adequate resilience levels in professionals who work in the front lines of the COVID-19 pandemic,” he said.

Resilience occurs not only at the individual level but also at the community level, which may help explain the striking differences in COVID-19-related worries and anxiety between participants from the United States and Israel, Vinkers added.

E. Alison Holman, PhD, professor, Sue and Bill Gross School of Nursing, University of California, Irvine, noted that respondents were predominantly white, female, and had relatively high incomes, “suggesting strong demographic biases in those who chose to participate.”

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Individuals are more worried about family members becoming ill with COVID-19 or about unknowingly transmitting the disease to family members than they are about contracting it themselves, results of a new survey show.

Investigators surveyed over 3,000 adults, using an online questionnaire. Of the respondents, about 20% were health care workers, and most were living in locations with active stay-at-home orders at the time of the survey.

Interactive platform

“The pandemic has provided a unique opportunity to study resilience in healthcare professionals and others,” said Barzilay, assistant professor at the Lifespan Brain Institute, a collaboration between CHOP and the University of Pennsylvania, under the directorship of Raquel Gur, MD, PhD.

“After the pandemic broke out in March, we launched a website in early April where we surveyed people for levels of resilience, mental health, and well-being during the outbreak,” he added.

Tend and befriend

Ten days into the survey, data were available on 3,042 participants (64% women, 54% with advanced education, 20.5% health care providers), who ranged in age from 18 to 70 years (mean [SD], 38.9 [11.9] years).

After accounting for covariates, the researchers found that participants reported more distress about family members contracting COVID-19 and about unknowingly infecting others than about getting COVID-19 themselves (48.5% and 36% vs. 19.9%, respectively; P < .0005).

Increased COVID-19-related worries were associated with 22% higher anxiety and 16.1% higher depression scores; women had higher scores than men on both.

Each 1-SD increase in the composite score of COVID-19 worries was associated with over twice the increased probability of generalized anxiety and depression (odds ratio, 2.23; 95% confidence interval, 1.88-2.65; and OR, 1.67; 95% CI, 1.41-1.98, respectively; for both, P < .001).

On the other hand, for every 1-SD increase in the resilience score, there was a 64.9% decrease in the possibility of screening positive for generalized anxiety disorder and a 69.3% decrease in the possibility of screening positive for depression (for both, P < .0001).

Compared to participants from Israel, US participants were “more stressed” about contracting, dying from, and currently having COVID-19 themselves. Overall, Israeli participants scored higher than US participants on the resilience scale.

Rates of anxiety and depression did not differ significantly between healthcare providers and others. Health care providers worried more about contracting COVID-19 themselves and worried less about finances after COVID-19.

The authors propose that survey participants were more worried about others than about themselves because of “prosocial behavior under stress” and “tend-and-befriend,” whereby, “in response to threat, humans tend to protect their close ones (tending) and seek out their social group for mutual defense (befriending).”

This type of altruistic behavior has been “described in acute situations throughout history” and has been “linked to mechanisms of resilience for overcoming adversity,” the authors indicate.
 

Demographic biases

Commenting on the findings for Medscape Medical News, Golnaz Tabibnia, PhD, a neuroscientist at the University of California, Irvine, who was not involved in the research, suggested that although higher resilience scores were associated with lower COVID-related worries, it is possible, “as the authors suggest, that having more resilience resources makes you less worried, but the causality could go the other direction as well, and less worry/rumination may lead to more resilience.”

Also commenting on the study for Medscape Medical News, Christiaan Vinkers, MD, PhD, a psychiatrist at the Amsterdam University Medical Center, Amsterdam, the Netherlands, said it was noteworthy that healthcare providers reported similar levels of mood and anxiety symptoms, compared to others.

“This is encouraging, as it suggests adequate resilience levels in professionals who work in the front lines of the COVID-19 pandemic,” he said.

Resilience occurs not only at the individual level but also at the community level, which may help explain the striking differences in COVID-19-related worries and anxiety between participants from the United States and Israel, Vinkers added.

E. Alison Holman, PhD, professor, Sue and Bill Gross School of Nursing, University of California, Irvine, noted that respondents were predominantly white, female, and had relatively high incomes, “suggesting strong demographic biases in those who chose to participate.”

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Individuals are more worried about family members becoming ill with COVID-19 or about unknowingly transmitting the disease to family members than they are about contracting it themselves, results of a new survey show.

Investigators surveyed over 3,000 adults, using an online questionnaire. Of the respondents, about 20% were health care workers, and most were living in locations with active stay-at-home orders at the time of the survey.

Interactive platform

“The pandemic has provided a unique opportunity to study resilience in healthcare professionals and others,” said Barzilay, assistant professor at the Lifespan Brain Institute, a collaboration between CHOP and the University of Pennsylvania, under the directorship of Raquel Gur, MD, PhD.

“After the pandemic broke out in March, we launched a website in early April where we surveyed people for levels of resilience, mental health, and well-being during the outbreak,” he added.

Tend and befriend

Ten days into the survey, data were available on 3,042 participants (64% women, 54% with advanced education, 20.5% health care providers), who ranged in age from 18 to 70 years (mean [SD], 38.9 [11.9] years).

After accounting for covariates, the researchers found that participants reported more distress about family members contracting COVID-19 and about unknowingly infecting others than about getting COVID-19 themselves (48.5% and 36% vs. 19.9%, respectively; P < .0005).

Increased COVID-19-related worries were associated with 22% higher anxiety and 16.1% higher depression scores; women had higher scores than men on both.

Each 1-SD increase in the composite score of COVID-19 worries was associated with over twice the increased probability of generalized anxiety and depression (odds ratio, 2.23; 95% confidence interval, 1.88-2.65; and OR, 1.67; 95% CI, 1.41-1.98, respectively; for both, P < .001).

On the other hand, for every 1-SD increase in the resilience score, there was a 64.9% decrease in the possibility of screening positive for generalized anxiety disorder and a 69.3% decrease in the possibility of screening positive for depression (for both, P < .0001).

Compared to participants from Israel, US participants were “more stressed” about contracting, dying from, and currently having COVID-19 themselves. Overall, Israeli participants scored higher than US participants on the resilience scale.

Rates of anxiety and depression did not differ significantly between healthcare providers and others. Health care providers worried more about contracting COVID-19 themselves and worried less about finances after COVID-19.

The authors propose that survey participants were more worried about others than about themselves because of “prosocial behavior under stress” and “tend-and-befriend,” whereby, “in response to threat, humans tend to protect their close ones (tending) and seek out their social group for mutual defense (befriending).”

This type of altruistic behavior has been “described in acute situations throughout history” and has been “linked to mechanisms of resilience for overcoming adversity,” the authors indicate.
 

Demographic biases

Commenting on the findings for Medscape Medical News, Golnaz Tabibnia, PhD, a neuroscientist at the University of California, Irvine, who was not involved in the research, suggested that although higher resilience scores were associated with lower COVID-related worries, it is possible, “as the authors suggest, that having more resilience resources makes you less worried, but the causality could go the other direction as well, and less worry/rumination may lead to more resilience.”

Also commenting on the study for Medscape Medical News, Christiaan Vinkers, MD, PhD, a psychiatrist at the Amsterdam University Medical Center, Amsterdam, the Netherlands, said it was noteworthy that healthcare providers reported similar levels of mood and anxiety symptoms, compared to others.

“This is encouraging, as it suggests adequate resilience levels in professionals who work in the front lines of the COVID-19 pandemic,” he said.

Resilience occurs not only at the individual level but also at the community level, which may help explain the striking differences in COVID-19-related worries and anxiety between participants from the United States and Israel, Vinkers added.

E. Alison Holman, PhD, professor, Sue and Bill Gross School of Nursing, University of California, Irvine, noted that respondents were predominantly white, female, and had relatively high incomes, “suggesting strong demographic biases in those who chose to participate.”

This article first appeared on Medscape.com.