Depression

Treatment with transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) has a robust effect for patients with major depressive disorder (MDD), results from a large registry study show.

From patient self-reports and clinician assessments, investigators found that TMS was “surprisingly effective” and “an eye-opener” for these patients, lead investigator Harold A. Sackeim, PhD, professor of clinical psychology in psychiatry and radiology, Columbia University, New York, told this news organization.

“In a presumably treatment-resistant population, the efficacy compared favorably with virtually all pharmacologic treatments” tested in the studies, said Dr. Sackeim.

He noted that the registry from which the data were obtained “is the largest for any treatment of depression, period.” These positive results suggest TMS should be considered a first-line treatment for MDD, he added.

The study was presented at the virtual American Psychiatric Association 2021 Annual Meeting and was previously published in the Journal of Affective Disorders.
 

Real-world study

Results of randomized clinical trials have shown that TMS is effective for episodes of MDD. However, the investigators note that there is a need to characterize and identify patient- and treatment-related clinical outcomes.

The study included 5,010 adult patients who had received a primary diagnosis of MDD and were treated at 103 practices in the United States. Participants completed the nine-item Patient Health Questionnaire (PHQ-9) at baseline and at least one other time following a TMS treatment.

The average baseline PHQ-9 score was 19.8, indicating moderate to severe symptoms. This was also reflected in a smaller sample that included Clinical Global Impressions–Severity (CGI-S) ratings by clinicians, mostly psychiatrists.

About two-thirds of the study population were women. The average age was about 50 years. Participants typically received about 30 TMS sessions over 7 to 8 weeks.

TMS targets tissue in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex. The standard protocol involves administering “fast” or high-frequency (10-Hz) stimulation on the left side. Sometimes, slow-frequency stimulation on the right side is added. About 57% of patients were treated on the left side, and 43% were treated on both sides. Each session involved delivery of about 3,000 pulses.

In the analysis of patient self-reports (PHQ-9), the response rate, which was defined as resolution of 50% or more of symptoms, was from 58% to 69%. The remission rate, defined as becoming asymptomatic or having minimal symptoms, ranged from 28% to 36%.

Results were about 5% higher in the “completer” sample, which included 3,814 patients who received at least 20 treatments and who completed a PHQ-9 assessment at the end the treatment course.

The number of completers in the analysis was “massive,” said Dr. Sackeim. It’s “ten times larger than in any previous TMS study; all randomized trials have a couple of hundred subjects at most, so this is whopping.”

The results provide “a full snapshot” of TMS in the “real-world” community instead of in the “highly controlled” environment of most studies, he added.
 

Gender differences

The analysis that included CGI-S clinician measures yielded higher outcome estimates – 79% to 83% for the response rate, and 47% to 63% for the remission rate.

Women tended to have better clinical outcomes. “It appears to me that around age 50 is where you see the difference,” said Dr. Sackeim. “Among women, it looks like the older they get, the better the outcome, whereas men are not showing that type of positive aging effect.”

This difference might be due to hormonal changes associated with menopause and the fact that older men with depression may have had a stroke or brain lesion. Dr. Sackeim said he plans to look more closely at outcomes of women in comparison with men.

The finding of a significant positive effect on aging contrasts with earlier research suggesting that age was a negative predictor. This, said Dr. Sackeim, illustrates how rapidly the TMS field is evolving.

He noted that researchers are now personalizing the procedure by determining the optimal target for individual patients. Other investigators are testing different protocols.

In the current study, results tended to be better for those who received 4,000 or more pulses, said Dr. Sackeim. “There was an indication of a dose response effect in terms of how many pulses per session,” he said.

The authors note that the study’s PDQ-9 response and remission rates indicate that clinical outcomes are comparable to those of the seven antidepressants studied in Level 2 of the large Sequenced Treatment Alternatives to Relieve Depression (STAR-D) trial.

Initial data for relapse in the study population are “encouraging,” said Dr. Sackeim. “You don’t see the rapid relapse that you do when you discontinue some treatments, for example with ECT [electroconvulsive therapy].”

The “slower onset of action” over the course of several sessions “may induce longer benefit,” he added.
 

Expanded use warranted?

The intervention proved very safe. Side effects, including headaches, were minimal, and there were “virtually no cognitive effects,” said Dr. Sackeim.

Dr. Sackeim believes TMS, as it has evolved, “is an outstanding option for treatment-resistant depression, and it has a very bright future” and should not be reserved for patients with established treatment-resistant depression (TRD), which is the current U.S. Food and Drug Administration indication.

“Restricting it to TRD in my mind is probably a mistake. Why shouldn’t the patient who is just starting on their course of treatment for depression have this as a nonpharmacological option?” he said.

Limitations of the study included its open-label design and the fact that only patients’ age, gender, outcome scores, and TMS treatment parameters were recorded in the registry. Other clinical characteristics, including medication use, were unknown.

However, it’s presumed that most patients had TRD, because insurance reimbursement for TMS typically requires an extensive history of failed antidepressant treatment.

Commenting on the study for an interview, Mark George, MD, professor, and Layton McCurdy, endowed chair in psychiatry, the Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, called the remission and response rates “remarkable.”

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

Treatment with transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) has a robust effect for patients with major depressive disorder (MDD), results from a large registry study show.

From patient self-reports and clinician assessments, investigators found that TMS was “surprisingly effective” and “an eye-opener” for these patients, lead investigator Harold A. Sackeim, PhD, professor of clinical psychology in psychiatry and radiology, Columbia University, New York, told this news organization.

“In a presumably treatment-resistant population, the efficacy compared favorably with virtually all pharmacologic treatments” tested in the studies, said Dr. Sackeim.

He noted that the registry from which the data were obtained “is the largest for any treatment of depression, period.” These positive results suggest TMS should be considered a first-line treatment for MDD, he added.

The study was presented at the virtual American Psychiatric Association 2021 Annual Meeting and was previously published in the Journal of Affective Disorders.
 

Real-world study

Results of randomized clinical trials have shown that TMS is effective for episodes of MDD. However, the investigators note that there is a need to characterize and identify patient- and treatment-related clinical outcomes.

The study included 5,010 adult patients who had received a primary diagnosis of MDD and were treated at 103 practices in the United States. Participants completed the nine-item Patient Health Questionnaire (PHQ-9) at baseline and at least one other time following a TMS treatment.

The average baseline PHQ-9 score was 19.8, indicating moderate to severe symptoms. This was also reflected in a smaller sample that included Clinical Global Impressions–Severity (CGI-S) ratings by clinicians, mostly psychiatrists.

About two-thirds of the study population were women. The average age was about 50 years. Participants typically received about 30 TMS sessions over 7 to 8 weeks.

TMS targets tissue in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex. The standard protocol involves administering “fast” or high-frequency (10-Hz) stimulation on the left side. Sometimes, slow-frequency stimulation on the right side is added. About 57% of patients were treated on the left side, and 43% were treated on both sides. Each session involved delivery of about 3,000 pulses.

In the analysis of patient self-reports (PHQ-9), the response rate, which was defined as resolution of 50% or more of symptoms, was from 58% to 69%. The remission rate, defined as becoming asymptomatic or having minimal symptoms, ranged from 28% to 36%.

Results were about 5% higher in the “completer” sample, which included 3,814 patients who received at least 20 treatments and who completed a PHQ-9 assessment at the end the treatment course.

The number of completers in the analysis was “massive,” said Dr. Sackeim. It’s “ten times larger than in any previous TMS study; all randomized trials have a couple of hundred subjects at most, so this is whopping.”

The results provide “a full snapshot” of TMS in the “real-world” community instead of in the “highly controlled” environment of most studies, he added.
 

Gender differences

The analysis that included CGI-S clinician measures yielded higher outcome estimates – 79% to 83% for the response rate, and 47% to 63% for the remission rate.

Women tended to have better clinical outcomes. “It appears to me that around age 50 is where you see the difference,” said Dr. Sackeim. “Among women, it looks like the older they get, the better the outcome, whereas men are not showing that type of positive aging effect.”

This difference might be due to hormonal changes associated with menopause and the fact that older men with depression may have had a stroke or brain lesion. Dr. Sackeim said he plans to look more closely at outcomes of women in comparison with men.

The finding of a significant positive effect on aging contrasts with earlier research suggesting that age was a negative predictor. This, said Dr. Sackeim, illustrates how rapidly the TMS field is evolving.

He noted that researchers are now personalizing the procedure by determining the optimal target for individual patients. Other investigators are testing different protocols.

In the current study, results tended to be better for those who received 4,000 or more pulses, said Dr. Sackeim. “There was an indication of a dose response effect in terms of how many pulses per session,” he said.

The authors note that the study’s PDQ-9 response and remission rates indicate that clinical outcomes are comparable to those of the seven antidepressants studied in Level 2 of the large Sequenced Treatment Alternatives to Relieve Depression (STAR-D) trial.

Initial data for relapse in the study population are “encouraging,” said Dr. Sackeim. “You don’t see the rapid relapse that you do when you discontinue some treatments, for example with ECT [electroconvulsive therapy].”

The “slower onset of action” over the course of several sessions “may induce longer benefit,” he added.
 

Expanded use warranted?

The intervention proved very safe. Side effects, including headaches, were minimal, and there were “virtually no cognitive effects,” said Dr. Sackeim.

Dr. Sackeim believes TMS, as it has evolved, “is an outstanding option for treatment-resistant depression, and it has a very bright future” and should not be reserved for patients with established treatment-resistant depression (TRD), which is the current U.S. Food and Drug Administration indication.

“Restricting it to TRD in my mind is probably a mistake. Why shouldn’t the patient who is just starting on their course of treatment for depression have this as a nonpharmacological option?” he said.

Limitations of the study included its open-label design and the fact that only patients’ age, gender, outcome scores, and TMS treatment parameters were recorded in the registry. Other clinical characteristics, including medication use, were unknown.

However, it’s presumed that most patients had TRD, because insurance reimbursement for TMS typically requires an extensive history of failed antidepressant treatment.

Commenting on the study for an interview, Mark George, MD, professor, and Layton McCurdy, endowed chair in psychiatry, the Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, called the remission and response rates “remarkable.”

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

Treatment with transcranial magnetic stimulation (TMS) has a robust effect for patients with major depressive disorder (MDD), results from a large registry study show.

From patient self-reports and clinician assessments, investigators found that TMS was “surprisingly effective” and “an eye-opener” for these patients, lead investigator Harold A. Sackeim, PhD, professor of clinical psychology in psychiatry and radiology, Columbia University, New York, told this news organization.

“In a presumably treatment-resistant population, the efficacy compared favorably with virtually all pharmacologic treatments” tested in the studies, said Dr. Sackeim.

He noted that the registry from which the data were obtained “is the largest for any treatment of depression, period.” These positive results suggest TMS should be considered a first-line treatment for MDD, he added.

The study was presented at the virtual American Psychiatric Association 2021 Annual Meeting and was previously published in the Journal of Affective Disorders.
 

Real-world study

Results of randomized clinical trials have shown that TMS is effective for episodes of MDD. However, the investigators note that there is a need to characterize and identify patient- and treatment-related clinical outcomes.

The study included 5,010 adult patients who had received a primary diagnosis of MDD and were treated at 103 practices in the United States. Participants completed the nine-item Patient Health Questionnaire (PHQ-9) at baseline and at least one other time following a TMS treatment.

The average baseline PHQ-9 score was 19.8, indicating moderate to severe symptoms. This was also reflected in a smaller sample that included Clinical Global Impressions–Severity (CGI-S) ratings by clinicians, mostly psychiatrists.

About two-thirds of the study population were women. The average age was about 50 years. Participants typically received about 30 TMS sessions over 7 to 8 weeks.

TMS targets tissue in the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex. The standard protocol involves administering “fast” or high-frequency (10-Hz) stimulation on the left side. Sometimes, slow-frequency stimulation on the right side is added. About 57% of patients were treated on the left side, and 43% were treated on both sides. Each session involved delivery of about 3,000 pulses.

In the analysis of patient self-reports (PHQ-9), the response rate, which was defined as resolution of 50% or more of symptoms, was from 58% to 69%. The remission rate, defined as becoming asymptomatic or having minimal symptoms, ranged from 28% to 36%.

Results were about 5% higher in the “completer” sample, which included 3,814 patients who received at least 20 treatments and who completed a PHQ-9 assessment at the end the treatment course.

The number of completers in the analysis was “massive,” said Dr. Sackeim. It’s “ten times larger than in any previous TMS study; all randomized trials have a couple of hundred subjects at most, so this is whopping.”

The results provide “a full snapshot” of TMS in the “real-world” community instead of in the “highly controlled” environment of most studies, he added.
 

Gender differences

The analysis that included CGI-S clinician measures yielded higher outcome estimates – 79% to 83% for the response rate, and 47% to 63% for the remission rate.

Women tended to have better clinical outcomes. “It appears to me that around age 50 is where you see the difference,” said Dr. Sackeim. “Among women, it looks like the older they get, the better the outcome, whereas men are not showing that type of positive aging effect.”

This difference might be due to hormonal changes associated with menopause and the fact that older men with depression may have had a stroke or brain lesion. Dr. Sackeim said he plans to look more closely at outcomes of women in comparison with men.

The finding of a significant positive effect on aging contrasts with earlier research suggesting that age was a negative predictor. This, said Dr. Sackeim, illustrates how rapidly the TMS field is evolving.

He noted that researchers are now personalizing the procedure by determining the optimal target for individual patients. Other investigators are testing different protocols.

In the current study, results tended to be better for those who received 4,000 or more pulses, said Dr. Sackeim. “There was an indication of a dose response effect in terms of how many pulses per session,” he said.

The authors note that the study’s PDQ-9 response and remission rates indicate that clinical outcomes are comparable to those of the seven antidepressants studied in Level 2 of the large Sequenced Treatment Alternatives to Relieve Depression (STAR-D) trial.

Initial data for relapse in the study population are “encouraging,” said Dr. Sackeim. “You don’t see the rapid relapse that you do when you discontinue some treatments, for example with ECT [electroconvulsive therapy].”

The “slower onset of action” over the course of several sessions “may induce longer benefit,” he added.
 

Expanded use warranted?

The intervention proved very safe. Side effects, including headaches, were minimal, and there were “virtually no cognitive effects,” said Dr. Sackeim.

Dr. Sackeim believes TMS, as it has evolved, “is an outstanding option for treatment-resistant depression, and it has a very bright future” and should not be reserved for patients with established treatment-resistant depression (TRD), which is the current U.S. Food and Drug Administration indication.

“Restricting it to TRD in my mind is probably a mistake. Why shouldn’t the patient who is just starting on their course of treatment for depression have this as a nonpharmacological option?” he said.

Limitations of the study included its open-label design and the fact that only patients’ age, gender, outcome scores, and TMS treatment parameters were recorded in the registry. Other clinical characteristics, including medication use, were unknown.

However, it’s presumed that most patients had TRD, because insurance reimbursement for TMS typically requires an extensive history of failed antidepressant treatment.

Commenting on the study for an interview, Mark George, MD, professor, and Layton McCurdy, endowed chair in psychiatry, the Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, called the remission and response rates “remarkable.”

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

We have no way of precisely knowing how many lives might have been saved, and how much grief and loneliness spared and economic ruin contained during COVID-19 if we had risen to its myriad challenges in a timely fashion. However, I feel we can safely say that the United States deserves to be graded with an “F” for its management of the pandemic.

To render this grade, we need only to read the countless verified reports of how critically needed public health measures were not taken soon enough, or sufficiently, to substantially mitigate human and societal suffering.

This began with the failure to protect doctors, nurses, and technicians, who did not have the personal protective equipment needed to prevent infection and spare risk to their loved ones. It soon extended to the country’s failure to adequately protect all its citizens and residents. COVID-19 then rained its grievous consequences disproportionately upon people of color, those living in poverty, and those with housing and food insecurity – those already greatly foreclosed from opportunities to exit from their circumstances.

We all have heard, “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.”

Bear witness, colleagues and friends: It will be our shared shame if we too continue to fail in our response to COVID-19. But failure need not happen because protecting ourselves and our country is a solvable problem; complex and demanding for sure, but solvable.
 

To battle trauma, we must first define it

The sine qua non of a disaster is its psychic and social trauma. I asked Maureen Sayres Van Niel, MD, chair of the American Psychiatric Association’s Minority and Underrepresented Caucus and a former steering committee member of the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force, to define trauma. She said, “It is [the product of] a catastrophic, unexpected event over which we have little control, with grave consequences to the lives and psychological functioning of those individuals and groups affected.”

The COVID-19 pandemic is a massively amplified traumatic event because of the virulence and contagious properties of the virus and its variants; the absence of end date on the horizon; its effect as a proverbial ax that disproportionately falls on the majority of the populace experiencing racial and social inequities; and the ironic yet necessary imperative to distance ourselves from those we care about and who care about us.

Four interdependent factors drive the magnitude of the traumatic impact of a disaster: the degree of exposure to the life-threatening event; the duration and threat of recurrence; an individual’s preexisting (natural and human-made) trauma and mental and addictive disorders; and the adequacy of family and fundamental resources such as housing, food, safety, and access to health care (the social dimensions of health and mental health). These factors underline the “who,” “what,” “where,” and “how” of what should have been (and continue to be) an effective public health response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Yet existing categories that we have used to predict risk for trauma no longer hold. The gravity, prevalence, and persistence of COVID-19’s horrors erase any differences among victims, witnesses, and bystanders. Dr Sayres Van Niel asserts that we have a “collective, national trauma.” In April, the Kaiser Family Foundation’s Vaccine Monitor reported that 24% of U.S. adults had a close friend or family member who died of COVID-19. That’s 82 million Americans! Our country has eclipsed individual victimization and trauma because we are all in its maw.
 

Vital lessons from the past

In a previous column, I described my role as New York City’s mental health commissioner after 9/11 and the many lessons we learned during that multiyear process. Our work served as a template for other disasters to follow, such as Hurricane Sandy. Its value to COVID-19 is equally apparent.

We learned that those most at risk of developing symptomatic, functionally impairing mental illness had prior traumatic experiences (for example, from childhood abuse or neglect, violence, war, and forced displacement from their native land) and/or a preexisting mental or substance use disorder.

Once these individuals and communities were identified, we could prioritize their treatment and care. Doing so required mobilizing both inner and external (social) resources, which can be used before disaster strikes or in its wake.

For individuals, adaptive resources include developing any of a number of mind-body activities (for example, meditation, mindfulness, slow breathing, and yoga); sufficient but not necessarily excessive levels of exercise (as has been said, if exercise were a pill, it would be the most potent of medicines); nourishing diets; sleep, nature’s restorative state; and perhaps most important, attachment and human connection to people who care about you and whom you care about and trust.

One unexpected, yet now consistent, predictor of resilience in the wake of disaster is faith. This does not necessarily mean holding or following an institutional religion or belonging to house of worship (though, of course, that melds and augments faith with community). For a great many, myself included, there is spirituality, the belief in a greater power, which need not be a God yet instills a sense of the vastness, universality, and continuity of life.

For communities, adaptive resources include safe homes and neighborhoods; diminishing housing and food insecurity; education, including pre-K; employment, with a livable wage; ridding human interactions of the endless, so-called microaggressions (which are not micro at all, because they accrue) of race, ethnic, class, and age discrimination and injustice; and ready access to quality and affordable health care, now more than ever for the rising tide of mental and substance use disorders that COVID-19 has unleashed.

Every gain we make to ablate racism, social injustice, discrimination, and widely and deeply spread resource and opportunity inequities means more cohesion among the members of our collective tribe. Greater cohesion, a love for thy neighbor, and equity (in action, not polemics) will fuel the resilience we will need to withstand more of COVID-19’s ongoing trauma; that of other, inescapable disasters and losses; and the wear and tear of everyday life. The rewards of equity are priceless and include the dignity that derives from fairness and justice – given and received.
 

An unprecedented disaster requires a bold response

My, what a list. But to me, the encompassing nature of what’s needed means that we can make differences anywhere, everywhere, and in countless and continuous ways.

The measure of any society is in how it cares for those who are foreclosed, through no fault of their own, from what we all want: a life safe from violence, secure in housing and food, with loving relationships and the pride that comes of making contributions, each in our own, wonderfully unique way.

Where will we all be in a year, 2, or 3 from now? Prepared, or not? Emotionally inoculated, or not? Better equipped, or not? As divided, or more cohesive?

Well, I imagine that depends on each and every one of us.

Lloyd I. Sederer, MD, is a psychiatrist, public health doctor, and writer. He is an adjunct professor at the Columbia University School of Public Health, director of Columbia Psychiatry Media, chief medical officer of Bongo Media, and chair of the advisory board of Get Help. He has been chief medical officer of McLean Hospital, a Harvard teaching hospital; mental health commissioner of New York City (in the Bloomberg administration); and chief medical officer of the New York State Office of Mental Health, the nation’s largest state mental health agency.

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

We have no way of precisely knowing how many lives might have been saved, and how much grief and loneliness spared and economic ruin contained during COVID-19 if we had risen to its myriad challenges in a timely fashion. However, I feel we can safely say that the United States deserves to be graded with an “F” for its management of the pandemic.

To render this grade, we need only to read the countless verified reports of how critically needed public health measures were not taken soon enough, or sufficiently, to substantially mitigate human and societal suffering.

This began with the failure to protect doctors, nurses, and technicians, who did not have the personal protective equipment needed to prevent infection and spare risk to their loved ones. It soon extended to the country’s failure to adequately protect all its citizens and residents. COVID-19 then rained its grievous consequences disproportionately upon people of color, those living in poverty, and those with housing and food insecurity – those already greatly foreclosed from opportunities to exit from their circumstances.

We all have heard, “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.”

Bear witness, colleagues and friends: It will be our shared shame if we too continue to fail in our response to COVID-19. But failure need not happen because protecting ourselves and our country is a solvable problem; complex and demanding for sure, but solvable.
 

To battle trauma, we must first define it

The sine qua non of a disaster is its psychic and social trauma. I asked Maureen Sayres Van Niel, MD, chair of the American Psychiatric Association’s Minority and Underrepresented Caucus and a former steering committee member of the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force, to define trauma. She said, “It is [the product of] a catastrophic, unexpected event over which we have little control, with grave consequences to the lives and psychological functioning of those individuals and groups affected.”

The COVID-19 pandemic is a massively amplified traumatic event because of the virulence and contagious properties of the virus and its variants; the absence of end date on the horizon; its effect as a proverbial ax that disproportionately falls on the majority of the populace experiencing racial and social inequities; and the ironic yet necessary imperative to distance ourselves from those we care about and who care about us.

Four interdependent factors drive the magnitude of the traumatic impact of a disaster: the degree of exposure to the life-threatening event; the duration and threat of recurrence; an individual’s preexisting (natural and human-made) trauma and mental and addictive disorders; and the adequacy of family and fundamental resources such as housing, food, safety, and access to health care (the social dimensions of health and mental health). These factors underline the “who,” “what,” “where,” and “how” of what should have been (and continue to be) an effective public health response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Yet existing categories that we have used to predict risk for trauma no longer hold. The gravity, prevalence, and persistence of COVID-19’s horrors erase any differences among victims, witnesses, and bystanders. Dr Sayres Van Niel asserts that we have a “collective, national trauma.” In April, the Kaiser Family Foundation’s Vaccine Monitor reported that 24% of U.S. adults had a close friend or family member who died of COVID-19. That’s 82 million Americans! Our country has eclipsed individual victimization and trauma because we are all in its maw.
 

Vital lessons from the past

In a previous column, I described my role as New York City’s mental health commissioner after 9/11 and the many lessons we learned during that multiyear process. Our work served as a template for other disasters to follow, such as Hurricane Sandy. Its value to COVID-19 is equally apparent.

We learned that those most at risk of developing symptomatic, functionally impairing mental illness had prior traumatic experiences (for example, from childhood abuse or neglect, violence, war, and forced displacement from their native land) and/or a preexisting mental or substance use disorder.

Once these individuals and communities were identified, we could prioritize their treatment and care. Doing so required mobilizing both inner and external (social) resources, which can be used before disaster strikes or in its wake.

For individuals, adaptive resources include developing any of a number of mind-body activities (for example, meditation, mindfulness, slow breathing, and yoga); sufficient but not necessarily excessive levels of exercise (as has been said, if exercise were a pill, it would be the most potent of medicines); nourishing diets; sleep, nature’s restorative state; and perhaps most important, attachment and human connection to people who care about you and whom you care about and trust.

One unexpected, yet now consistent, predictor of resilience in the wake of disaster is faith. This does not necessarily mean holding or following an institutional religion or belonging to house of worship (though, of course, that melds and augments faith with community). For a great many, myself included, there is spirituality, the belief in a greater power, which need not be a God yet instills a sense of the vastness, universality, and continuity of life.

For communities, adaptive resources include safe homes and neighborhoods; diminishing housing and food insecurity; education, including pre-K; employment, with a livable wage; ridding human interactions of the endless, so-called microaggressions (which are not micro at all, because they accrue) of race, ethnic, class, and age discrimination and injustice; and ready access to quality and affordable health care, now more than ever for the rising tide of mental and substance use disorders that COVID-19 has unleashed.

Every gain we make to ablate racism, social injustice, discrimination, and widely and deeply spread resource and opportunity inequities means more cohesion among the members of our collective tribe. Greater cohesion, a love for thy neighbor, and equity (in action, not polemics) will fuel the resilience we will need to withstand more of COVID-19’s ongoing trauma; that of other, inescapable disasters and losses; and the wear and tear of everyday life. The rewards of equity are priceless and include the dignity that derives from fairness and justice – given and received.
 

An unprecedented disaster requires a bold response

My, what a list. But to me, the encompassing nature of what’s needed means that we can make differences anywhere, everywhere, and in countless and continuous ways.

The measure of any society is in how it cares for those who are foreclosed, through no fault of their own, from what we all want: a life safe from violence, secure in housing and food, with loving relationships and the pride that comes of making contributions, each in our own, wonderfully unique way.

Where will we all be in a year, 2, or 3 from now? Prepared, or not? Emotionally inoculated, or not? Better equipped, or not? As divided, or more cohesive?

Well, I imagine that depends on each and every one of us.

Lloyd I. Sederer, MD, is a psychiatrist, public health doctor, and writer. He is an adjunct professor at the Columbia University School of Public Health, director of Columbia Psychiatry Media, chief medical officer of Bongo Media, and chair of the advisory board of Get Help. He has been chief medical officer of McLean Hospital, a Harvard teaching hospital; mental health commissioner of New York City (in the Bloomberg administration); and chief medical officer of the New York State Office of Mental Health, the nation’s largest state mental health agency.

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

We have no way of precisely knowing how many lives might have been saved, and how much grief and loneliness spared and economic ruin contained during COVID-19 if we had risen to its myriad challenges in a timely fashion. However, I feel we can safely say that the United States deserves to be graded with an “F” for its management of the pandemic.

To render this grade, we need only to read the countless verified reports of how critically needed public health measures were not taken soon enough, or sufficiently, to substantially mitigate human and societal suffering.

This began with the failure to protect doctors, nurses, and technicians, who did not have the personal protective equipment needed to prevent infection and spare risk to their loved ones. It soon extended to the country’s failure to adequately protect all its citizens and residents. COVID-19 then rained its grievous consequences disproportionately upon people of color, those living in poverty, and those with housing and food insecurity – those already greatly foreclosed from opportunities to exit from their circumstances.

We all have heard, “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.”

Bear witness, colleagues and friends: It will be our shared shame if we too continue to fail in our response to COVID-19. But failure need not happen because protecting ourselves and our country is a solvable problem; complex and demanding for sure, but solvable.
 

To battle trauma, we must first define it

The sine qua non of a disaster is its psychic and social trauma. I asked Maureen Sayres Van Niel, MD, chair of the American Psychiatric Association’s Minority and Underrepresented Caucus and a former steering committee member of the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force, to define trauma. She said, “It is [the product of] a catastrophic, unexpected event over which we have little control, with grave consequences to the lives and psychological functioning of those individuals and groups affected.”

The COVID-19 pandemic is a massively amplified traumatic event because of the virulence and contagious properties of the virus and its variants; the absence of end date on the horizon; its effect as a proverbial ax that disproportionately falls on the majority of the populace experiencing racial and social inequities; and the ironic yet necessary imperative to distance ourselves from those we care about and who care about us.

Four interdependent factors drive the magnitude of the traumatic impact of a disaster: the degree of exposure to the life-threatening event; the duration and threat of recurrence; an individual’s preexisting (natural and human-made) trauma and mental and addictive disorders; and the adequacy of family and fundamental resources such as housing, food, safety, and access to health care (the social dimensions of health and mental health). These factors underline the “who,” “what,” “where,” and “how” of what should have been (and continue to be) an effective public health response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Yet existing categories that we have used to predict risk for trauma no longer hold. The gravity, prevalence, and persistence of COVID-19’s horrors erase any differences among victims, witnesses, and bystanders. Dr Sayres Van Niel asserts that we have a “collective, national trauma.” In April, the Kaiser Family Foundation’s Vaccine Monitor reported that 24% of U.S. adults had a close friend or family member who died of COVID-19. That’s 82 million Americans! Our country has eclipsed individual victimization and trauma because we are all in its maw.
 

Vital lessons from the past

In a previous column, I described my role as New York City’s mental health commissioner after 9/11 and the many lessons we learned during that multiyear process. Our work served as a template for other disasters to follow, such as Hurricane Sandy. Its value to COVID-19 is equally apparent.

We learned that those most at risk of developing symptomatic, functionally impairing mental illness had prior traumatic experiences (for example, from childhood abuse or neglect, violence, war, and forced displacement from their native land) and/or a preexisting mental or substance use disorder.

Once these individuals and communities were identified, we could prioritize their treatment and care. Doing so required mobilizing both inner and external (social) resources, which can be used before disaster strikes or in its wake.

For individuals, adaptive resources include developing any of a number of mind-body activities (for example, meditation, mindfulness, slow breathing, and yoga); sufficient but not necessarily excessive levels of exercise (as has been said, if exercise were a pill, it would be the most potent of medicines); nourishing diets; sleep, nature’s restorative state; and perhaps most important, attachment and human connection to people who care about you and whom you care about and trust.

One unexpected, yet now consistent, predictor of resilience in the wake of disaster is faith. This does not necessarily mean holding or following an institutional religion or belonging to house of worship (though, of course, that melds and augments faith with community). For a great many, myself included, there is spirituality, the belief in a greater power, which need not be a God yet instills a sense of the vastness, universality, and continuity of life.

For communities, adaptive resources include safe homes and neighborhoods; diminishing housing and food insecurity; education, including pre-K; employment, with a livable wage; ridding human interactions of the endless, so-called microaggressions (which are not micro at all, because they accrue) of race, ethnic, class, and age discrimination and injustice; and ready access to quality and affordable health care, now more than ever for the rising tide of mental and substance use disorders that COVID-19 has unleashed.

Every gain we make to ablate racism, social injustice, discrimination, and widely and deeply spread resource and opportunity inequities means more cohesion among the members of our collective tribe. Greater cohesion, a love for thy neighbor, and equity (in action, not polemics) will fuel the resilience we will need to withstand more of COVID-19’s ongoing trauma; that of other, inescapable disasters and losses; and the wear and tear of everyday life. The rewards of equity are priceless and include the dignity that derives from fairness and justice – given and received.
 

An unprecedented disaster requires a bold response

My, what a list. But to me, the encompassing nature of what’s needed means that we can make differences anywhere, everywhere, and in countless and continuous ways.

The measure of any society is in how it cares for those who are foreclosed, through no fault of their own, from what we all want: a life safe from violence, secure in housing and food, with loving relationships and the pride that comes of making contributions, each in our own, wonderfully unique way.

Where will we all be in a year, 2, or 3 from now? Prepared, or not? Emotionally inoculated, or not? Better equipped, or not? As divided, or more cohesive?

Well, I imagine that depends on each and every one of us.

Lloyd I. Sederer, MD, is a psychiatrist, public health doctor, and writer. He is an adjunct professor at the Columbia University School of Public Health, director of Columbia Psychiatry Media, chief medical officer of Bongo Media, and chair of the advisory board of Get Help. He has been chief medical officer of McLean Hospital, a Harvard teaching hospital; mental health commissioner of New York City (in the Bloomberg administration); and chief medical officer of the New York State Office of Mental Health, the nation’s largest state mental health agency.

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

Death by self-harm through suicide or overdose is a leading cause of death for women in the first year post partum, data indicate. Many of these deaths may be preventable, said Adrienne Griffen, MPP, executive director of the Maternal Mental Health Leadership Alliance.

Ms. Griffen discussed these findings and ways clinicians may be able to help at the 2021 virtual meeting of the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists.

Women “visit a health care provider an average of 25 times during a healthy pregnancy and first year of baby’s life,” she said. “Obstetric and primary care providers who serve pregnant and postpartum women are uniquely positioned to intervene effectively to screen and assess women for mental health disorders.”

To that end, clinicians should discuss mental health “early and often,” Ms. Griffen said.

“Asking about mental health issues and suicide will not cause women to think these thoughts,” she said. “We cannot wait for women to raise their hand and ask for help because by the time they do that, they needed help many weeks ago.”

Obstetric providers can explain to patients that they will check on their mental health every visit, just as they do with their weight and blood pressure, Ms. Griffen said.

For example, a doctor might tell a patient: “Your mental health is just as important as your physical health, and anxiety and depression are the most common complications of pregnancy and childbirth,” Ms. Griffen suggested. “Every time I see you, I’m going to ask you how you are doing, and we’ll do a formal screening assessment periodically over the course of the pregnancy. … Your job is to answer us honestly so that we can connect you with resources as soon as possible to minimize the impact on you and your baby.”

Although the obstetric provider should introduce this topic, a nurse, lactation consultant, or social worker may conduct screenings and help patients who are experiencing distress, she said.

During the past decade, several medical associations have issued new guidance around screening new mothers for anxiety and depression. One recent ACOG committee opinion recommends screening for depression at least once during pregnancy and once post partum, and encourages doctors to initiate medical therapy if possible and provide resources and referrals.

Another committee opinion suggests that doctors should have contact with a patient between 2 and 3 weeks post partum, primarily to assess for mental health.
 

Limited data

In discussing maternal suicide statistics, Ms. Griffen focused on data from Maternal Mortality Review Committees (MMRCs).

Two other sources of data about maternal mortality – the National Vital Statistics System and the Pregnancy Mortality Surveillance System – do not include information about suicide, which may be a reason this cause of death is not discussed more often, Ms. Griffen noted.

MMRCs, on the other hand, include information about suicide and self-harm. About half of the states in the United States have these multidisciplinary committees. Committee members review deaths of all women during pregnancy or within 1 year of pregnancy. Members consider a range of clinical and nonclinical data, including reports from social services and police, to try to understand the circumstances of each death.

A report that examined pregnancy-related deaths using data from 14 U.S. MMRCs between 2008 and 2017 showed that mental health conditions were the leading cause of death for non-Hispanic White women. In all, 34% of pregnancy-related suicide deaths had a documented prior suicide attempt, and the majority of suicides happened in the late postpartum time frame (43-365 days post partum).

Some physicians cite a lack of education, time, reimbursement, or referral resources as barriers to maternal mental health screening and treatment, but there may be useful options available, Ms. Griffen said. Postpartum Support International provides resources for physicians, as well as mothers. The National Curriculum in Reproductive Psychiatry and the Seleni Institute also have educational resources.

Some states have psychiatry access programs, where psychiatrists educate obstetricians, family physicians, and pediatricians about how to assess for and treat maternal mental health issues, Ms. Griffen noted.

Self care, social support, and talk therapy may help patients. “Sometimes medication is needed, but a combination of all of these things … can help women recover from maternal mental health conditions,” Ms. Griffen said.
 

Need to intervene

Although medical societies have emphasized the importance of maternal mental health screening and treatment in recent years, the risk of self-harm has been a concern for obstetricians and gynecologists long before then, said Marc Alan Landsberg, MD, a member of the meeting’s scientific committee who moderated the session.

“We have been talking about this at ACOG for a long time,” Dr. Landsberg said in an interview.

The presentation highlighted why obstetricians, gynecologists, and other doctors who deliver babies and care for women post partum “have got to screen these people,” he said. The finding that 34% of pregnancy-related suicide deaths had a prior suicide attempt indicates that clinicians may be able to identify these patients, Dr. Landsberg said. Suicide and overdose are leading causes of death in the first year post partum and “probably 100% of these are preventable,” he said.

As a first step, screening may be relatively simple. The Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale, highlighted during the talk, is an easy and quick tool to use, Dr. Landsberg said. It contains 10 items and assesses for anxiety and depression. It also specifically asks about suicide.

Ms. Griffen and Dr. Landsberg had no conflicts of interest.

[email protected]

Death by self-harm through suicide or overdose is a leading cause of death for women in the first year post partum, data indicate. Many of these deaths may be preventable, said Adrienne Griffen, MPP, executive director of the Maternal Mental Health Leadership Alliance.

Ms. Griffen discussed these findings and ways clinicians may be able to help at the 2021 virtual meeting of the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists.

Women “visit a health care provider an average of 25 times during a healthy pregnancy and first year of baby’s life,” she said. “Obstetric and primary care providers who serve pregnant and postpartum women are uniquely positioned to intervene effectively to screen and assess women for mental health disorders.”

To that end, clinicians should discuss mental health “early and often,” Ms. Griffen said.

“Asking about mental health issues and suicide will not cause women to think these thoughts,” she said. “We cannot wait for women to raise their hand and ask for help because by the time they do that, they needed help many weeks ago.”

Obstetric providers can explain to patients that they will check on their mental health every visit, just as they do with their weight and blood pressure, Ms. Griffen said.

For example, a doctor might tell a patient: “Your mental health is just as important as your physical health, and anxiety and depression are the most common complications of pregnancy and childbirth,” Ms. Griffen suggested. “Every time I see you, I’m going to ask you how you are doing, and we’ll do a formal screening assessment periodically over the course of the pregnancy. … Your job is to answer us honestly so that we can connect you with resources as soon as possible to minimize the impact on you and your baby.”

Although the obstetric provider should introduce this topic, a nurse, lactation consultant, or social worker may conduct screenings and help patients who are experiencing distress, she said.

During the past decade, several medical associations have issued new guidance around screening new mothers for anxiety and depression. One recent ACOG committee opinion recommends screening for depression at least once during pregnancy and once post partum, and encourages doctors to initiate medical therapy if possible and provide resources and referrals.

Another committee opinion suggests that doctors should have contact with a patient between 2 and 3 weeks post partum, primarily to assess for mental health.
 

Limited data

In discussing maternal suicide statistics, Ms. Griffen focused on data from Maternal Mortality Review Committees (MMRCs).

Two other sources of data about maternal mortality – the National Vital Statistics System and the Pregnancy Mortality Surveillance System – do not include information about suicide, which may be a reason this cause of death is not discussed more often, Ms. Griffen noted.

MMRCs, on the other hand, include information about suicide and self-harm. About half of the states in the United States have these multidisciplinary committees. Committee members review deaths of all women during pregnancy or within 1 year of pregnancy. Members consider a range of clinical and nonclinical data, including reports from social services and police, to try to understand the circumstances of each death.

A report that examined pregnancy-related deaths using data from 14 U.S. MMRCs between 2008 and 2017 showed that mental health conditions were the leading cause of death for non-Hispanic White women. In all, 34% of pregnancy-related suicide deaths had a documented prior suicide attempt, and the majority of suicides happened in the late postpartum time frame (43-365 days post partum).

Some physicians cite a lack of education, time, reimbursement, or referral resources as barriers to maternal mental health screening and treatment, but there may be useful options available, Ms. Griffen said. Postpartum Support International provides resources for physicians, as well as mothers. The National Curriculum in Reproductive Psychiatry and the Seleni Institute also have educational resources.

Some states have psychiatry access programs, where psychiatrists educate obstetricians, family physicians, and pediatricians about how to assess for and treat maternal mental health issues, Ms. Griffen noted.

Self care, social support, and talk therapy may help patients. “Sometimes medication is needed, but a combination of all of these things … can help women recover from maternal mental health conditions,” Ms. Griffen said.
 

Need to intervene

Although medical societies have emphasized the importance of maternal mental health screening and treatment in recent years, the risk of self-harm has been a concern for obstetricians and gynecologists long before then, said Marc Alan Landsberg, MD, a member of the meeting’s scientific committee who moderated the session.

“We have been talking about this at ACOG for a long time,” Dr. Landsberg said in an interview.

The presentation highlighted why obstetricians, gynecologists, and other doctors who deliver babies and care for women post partum “have got to screen these people,” he said. The finding that 34% of pregnancy-related suicide deaths had a prior suicide attempt indicates that clinicians may be able to identify these patients, Dr. Landsberg said. Suicide and overdose are leading causes of death in the first year post partum and “probably 100% of these are preventable,” he said.

As a first step, screening may be relatively simple. The Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale, highlighted during the talk, is an easy and quick tool to use, Dr. Landsberg said. It contains 10 items and assesses for anxiety and depression. It also specifically asks about suicide.

Ms. Griffen and Dr. Landsberg had no conflicts of interest.

[email protected]

Death by self-harm through suicide or overdose is a leading cause of death for women in the first year post partum, data indicate. Many of these deaths may be preventable, said Adrienne Griffen, MPP, executive director of the Maternal Mental Health Leadership Alliance.

Ms. Griffen discussed these findings and ways clinicians may be able to help at the 2021 virtual meeting of the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists.

Women “visit a health care provider an average of 25 times during a healthy pregnancy and first year of baby’s life,” she said. “Obstetric and primary care providers who serve pregnant and postpartum women are uniquely positioned to intervene effectively to screen and assess women for mental health disorders.”

To that end, clinicians should discuss mental health “early and often,” Ms. Griffen said.

“Asking about mental health issues and suicide will not cause women to think these thoughts,” she said. “We cannot wait for women to raise their hand and ask for help because by the time they do that, they needed help many weeks ago.”

Obstetric providers can explain to patients that they will check on their mental health every visit, just as they do with their weight and blood pressure, Ms. Griffen said.

For example, a doctor might tell a patient: “Your mental health is just as important as your physical health, and anxiety and depression are the most common complications of pregnancy and childbirth,” Ms. Griffen suggested. “Every time I see you, I’m going to ask you how you are doing, and we’ll do a formal screening assessment periodically over the course of the pregnancy. … Your job is to answer us honestly so that we can connect you with resources as soon as possible to minimize the impact on you and your baby.”

Although the obstetric provider should introduce this topic, a nurse, lactation consultant, or social worker may conduct screenings and help patients who are experiencing distress, she said.

During the past decade, several medical associations have issued new guidance around screening new mothers for anxiety and depression. One recent ACOG committee opinion recommends screening for depression at least once during pregnancy and once post partum, and encourages doctors to initiate medical therapy if possible and provide resources and referrals.

Another committee opinion suggests that doctors should have contact with a patient between 2 and 3 weeks post partum, primarily to assess for mental health.
 

Limited data

In discussing maternal suicide statistics, Ms. Griffen focused on data from Maternal Mortality Review Committees (MMRCs).

Two other sources of data about maternal mortality – the National Vital Statistics System and the Pregnancy Mortality Surveillance System – do not include information about suicide, which may be a reason this cause of death is not discussed more often, Ms. Griffen noted.

MMRCs, on the other hand, include information about suicide and self-harm. About half of the states in the United States have these multidisciplinary committees. Committee members review deaths of all women during pregnancy or within 1 year of pregnancy. Members consider a range of clinical and nonclinical data, including reports from social services and police, to try to understand the circumstances of each death.

A report that examined pregnancy-related deaths using data from 14 U.S. MMRCs between 2008 and 2017 showed that mental health conditions were the leading cause of death for non-Hispanic White women. In all, 34% of pregnancy-related suicide deaths had a documented prior suicide attempt, and the majority of suicides happened in the late postpartum time frame (43-365 days post partum).

Some physicians cite a lack of education, time, reimbursement, or referral resources as barriers to maternal mental health screening and treatment, but there may be useful options available, Ms. Griffen said. Postpartum Support International provides resources for physicians, as well as mothers. The National Curriculum in Reproductive Psychiatry and the Seleni Institute also have educational resources.

Some states have psychiatry access programs, where psychiatrists educate obstetricians, family physicians, and pediatricians about how to assess for and treat maternal mental health issues, Ms. Griffen noted.

Self care, social support, and talk therapy may help patients. “Sometimes medication is needed, but a combination of all of these things … can help women recover from maternal mental health conditions,” Ms. Griffen said.
 

Need to intervene

Although medical societies have emphasized the importance of maternal mental health screening and treatment in recent years, the risk of self-harm has been a concern for obstetricians and gynecologists long before then, said Marc Alan Landsberg, MD, a member of the meeting’s scientific committee who moderated the session.

“We have been talking about this at ACOG for a long time,” Dr. Landsberg said in an interview.

The presentation highlighted why obstetricians, gynecologists, and other doctors who deliver babies and care for women post partum “have got to screen these people,” he said. The finding that 34% of pregnancy-related suicide deaths had a prior suicide attempt indicates that clinicians may be able to identify these patients, Dr. Landsberg said. Suicide and overdose are leading causes of death in the first year post partum and “probably 100% of these are preventable,” he said.

As a first step, screening may be relatively simple. The Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale, highlighted during the talk, is an easy and quick tool to use, Dr. Landsberg said. It contains 10 items and assesses for anxiety and depression. It also specifically asks about suicide.

Ms. Griffen and Dr. Landsberg had no conflicts of interest.

[email protected]

Psychotherapy and pharmacotherapy appear to be similarly effective for the treatment of depression, and a combination of both treatments might pack the biggest punch, according to a network meta-analysis (NMA) comparing either and both approaches with control conditions in the primary care setting.

The findings are important, since the majority of depressed patients are treated by primary care physicians, yet relatively few randomized trials of treatment have focused on this setting, noted senior study author Pim Cuijpers, PhD, from Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, and colleagues, in the paper, which was published in Annals of Family Medicine.

“The main message is that clinicians should certainly consider psychotherapy instead of pharmacotherapy, because this is preferred by most patients, and when possible, combined treatments should be the preferred choice because the outcomes are considerably better,” he said in an interview. Either way, he emphasized that “preference of patients is very important and all three treatments are better than usual care.”

The NMA included studies comparing psychotherapy, antidepressant medication, or a combination of both, with control conditions (defined as usual care, wait list, or pill placebo) in adult primary care patients with depression.

Patients could have major depression, persistent mood disorders (dysthymia), both, or high scores on self-rating depression scales. The primary outcome of the NMA was response, defined as a 50% improvement in the Hamilton Depression Rating scores (HAM-D).

A total of 58 studies met inclusion criteria, involving 9,301 patients.
 

Treatment options compared

Compared with usual care, both psychotherapy alone and pharmacotherapy alone had significantly better response rates, with no significant difference between them (relative risk, 1.60 and RR, 1.65, respectively). The combination of psychotherapy and pharmacotherapy was even better (RR, 2.15), whereas the wait list was less effective (RR, 0.68).

When comparing combined therapy with psychotherapy or pharmacotherapy, the superiority of combination therapy over psychotherapy was only slightly statistically significant (RR, 1.35; 95% confidence interval, 1.00-1.81), while pharmacotherapy was only slightly inferior (RR, 1.30; 95% CI, 0.98-1.73).

“The significance level is not very high, which is related to statistical power,” said Dr. Cuijpers. “But the mean benefit is quite substantial in my opinion, with a 35% higher chance of response in the combined treatment, compared to psychotherapy alone.”

Looking at the outcome of remission, (normally defined as a score of 7 or less on the HAM-D), the outcomes were “comparable to those for response, with the exception that combined treatment was not significantly different from psychotherapy,” they wrote.

One important caveat is that several studies included in the NMA included patients with moderate to severe depression, a population that is different from the usual primary care population of depressed patients who have mild to moderate symptoms. Antidepressant medications are also assumed to work better against more severe symptoms, added the authors. “The inclusion of these studies might therefore have resulted in an overestimation of the effects of pharmacotherapy in the present NMA.”

Among other limitations, the authors noted that studies included mixed populations of patients with dysthymia and major depression; they also made no distinction between different types of antidepressants.
 

Psychotherapies unknown, but meta-analysis is still useful

Commenting on these findings, Neil Skolnik, MD, professor of family and community medicine at Sidney Kimmel Medical College, Philadelphia, said this is “an important study, confirming and extending the conclusions” of a systematic review published in 2016 as a Clinical Practice Guideline from the American College of Physicians.

“Unfortunately, the authors did not specify what type of psychotherapy was studied in the meta-analysis, so we have to look elsewhere if we want to advise our patients on what type of psychotherapy to seek, since there are important differences between different types of therapy,” he said.

Still, he described the study as providing “helpful information for the practicing clinician, as it gives us solid information with which to engage and advise patients in a shared decision-making process for effective treatment of depression.”

“Some patients will choose psychotherapy, some will choose medications. They can make either choice with the confidence that both approaches are effective,” Dr. Skolnik elaborated. “In addition, if psychotherapy does not seem to be sufficiently helping we are on solid ground adding an antidepressant medication to psychotherapy, with this data showing that the combined treatment works better than psychotherapy alone.”

Dr. Cuijpers receives allowances for his memberships on the board of directors of Mind, Fonds Psychische Gezondheid, and Korrelatie, and for being chair of the PACO committee of the Raad voor Civiel-militaire Zorg en Onderzoek of the Dutch Ministry of Defense. He also serves as deputy editor of Depression and Anxiety and associate editor of Psychological Bulletin, and he receives royalties for books he has authored or coauthored. He received grants from the European Union, ZonMw, and PFGV. Another study author reported receiving personal fees from Mitsubishi-Tanabe, MSD, and Shionogi and a grant from Mitsubishi-Tanabe outside the submitted work. One author has received research and consultancy fees from INCiPiT (Italian Network for Paediatric Trials), CARIPLO Foundation, and Angelini Pharmam, while another reported receiving personal fees from Boehringer Ingelheim, Kyowa Kirin, ASKA Pharmaceutical, and Toyota Motor Corporation outside the submitted work. The other authors and Dr. Skolnik reported no conflicts.

Psychotherapy and pharmacotherapy appear to be similarly effective for the treatment of depression, and a combination of both treatments might pack the biggest punch, according to a network meta-analysis (NMA) comparing either and both approaches with control conditions in the primary care setting.

The findings are important, since the majority of depressed patients are treated by primary care physicians, yet relatively few randomized trials of treatment have focused on this setting, noted senior study author Pim Cuijpers, PhD, from Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, and colleagues, in the paper, which was published in Annals of Family Medicine.

“The main message is that clinicians should certainly consider psychotherapy instead of pharmacotherapy, because this is preferred by most patients, and when possible, combined treatments should be the preferred choice because the outcomes are considerably better,” he said in an interview. Either way, he emphasized that “preference of patients is very important and all three treatments are better than usual care.”

The NMA included studies comparing psychotherapy, antidepressant medication, or a combination of both, with control conditions (defined as usual care, wait list, or pill placebo) in adult primary care patients with depression.

Patients could have major depression, persistent mood disorders (dysthymia), both, or high scores on self-rating depression scales. The primary outcome of the NMA was response, defined as a 50% improvement in the Hamilton Depression Rating scores (HAM-D).

A total of 58 studies met inclusion criteria, involving 9,301 patients.
 

Treatment options compared

Compared with usual care, both psychotherapy alone and pharmacotherapy alone had significantly better response rates, with no significant difference between them (relative risk, 1.60 and RR, 1.65, respectively). The combination of psychotherapy and pharmacotherapy was even better (RR, 2.15), whereas the wait list was less effective (RR, 0.68).

When comparing combined therapy with psychotherapy or pharmacotherapy, the superiority of combination therapy over psychotherapy was only slightly statistically significant (RR, 1.35; 95% confidence interval, 1.00-1.81), while pharmacotherapy was only slightly inferior (RR, 1.30; 95% CI, 0.98-1.73).

“The significance level is not very high, which is related to statistical power,” said Dr. Cuijpers. “But the mean benefit is quite substantial in my opinion, with a 35% higher chance of response in the combined treatment, compared to psychotherapy alone.”

Looking at the outcome of remission, (normally defined as a score of 7 or less on the HAM-D), the outcomes were “comparable to those for response, with the exception that combined treatment was not significantly different from psychotherapy,” they wrote.

One important caveat is that several studies included in the NMA included patients with moderate to severe depression, a population that is different from the usual primary care population of depressed patients who have mild to moderate symptoms. Antidepressant medications are also assumed to work better against more severe symptoms, added the authors. “The inclusion of these studies might therefore have resulted in an overestimation of the effects of pharmacotherapy in the present NMA.”

Among other limitations, the authors noted that studies included mixed populations of patients with dysthymia and major depression; they also made no distinction between different types of antidepressants.
 

Psychotherapies unknown, but meta-analysis is still useful

Commenting on these findings, Neil Skolnik, MD, professor of family and community medicine at Sidney Kimmel Medical College, Philadelphia, said this is “an important study, confirming and extending the conclusions” of a systematic review published in 2016 as a Clinical Practice Guideline from the American College of Physicians.

“Unfortunately, the authors did not specify what type of psychotherapy was studied in the meta-analysis, so we have to look elsewhere if we want to advise our patients on what type of psychotherapy to seek, since there are important differences between different types of therapy,” he said.

Still, he described the study as providing “helpful information for the practicing clinician, as it gives us solid information with which to engage and advise patients in a shared decision-making process for effective treatment of depression.”

“Some patients will choose psychotherapy, some will choose medications. They can make either choice with the confidence that both approaches are effective,” Dr. Skolnik elaborated. “In addition, if psychotherapy does not seem to be sufficiently helping we are on solid ground adding an antidepressant medication to psychotherapy, with this data showing that the combined treatment works better than psychotherapy alone.”

Dr. Cuijpers receives allowances for his memberships on the board of directors of Mind, Fonds Psychische Gezondheid, and Korrelatie, and for being chair of the PACO committee of the Raad voor Civiel-militaire Zorg en Onderzoek of the Dutch Ministry of Defense. He also serves as deputy editor of Depression and Anxiety and associate editor of Psychological Bulletin, and he receives royalties for books he has authored or coauthored. He received grants from the European Union, ZonMw, and PFGV. Another study author reported receiving personal fees from Mitsubishi-Tanabe, MSD, and Shionogi and a grant from Mitsubishi-Tanabe outside the submitted work. One author has received research and consultancy fees from INCiPiT (Italian Network for Paediatric Trials), CARIPLO Foundation, and Angelini Pharmam, while another reported receiving personal fees from Boehringer Ingelheim, Kyowa Kirin, ASKA Pharmaceutical, and Toyota Motor Corporation outside the submitted work. The other authors and Dr. Skolnik reported no conflicts.

Psychotherapy and pharmacotherapy appear to be similarly effective for the treatment of depression, and a combination of both treatments might pack the biggest punch, according to a network meta-analysis (NMA) comparing either and both approaches with control conditions in the primary care setting.

The findings are important, since the majority of depressed patients are treated by primary care physicians, yet relatively few randomized trials of treatment have focused on this setting, noted senior study author Pim Cuijpers, PhD, from Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, and colleagues, in the paper, which was published in Annals of Family Medicine.

“The main message is that clinicians should certainly consider psychotherapy instead of pharmacotherapy, because this is preferred by most patients, and when possible, combined treatments should be the preferred choice because the outcomes are considerably better,” he said in an interview. Either way, he emphasized that “preference of patients is very important and all three treatments are better than usual care.”

The NMA included studies comparing psychotherapy, antidepressant medication, or a combination of both, with control conditions (defined as usual care, wait list, or pill placebo) in adult primary care patients with depression.

Patients could have major depression, persistent mood disorders (dysthymia), both, or high scores on self-rating depression scales. The primary outcome of the NMA was response, defined as a 50% improvement in the Hamilton Depression Rating scores (HAM-D).

A total of 58 studies met inclusion criteria, involving 9,301 patients.
 

Treatment options compared

Compared with usual care, both psychotherapy alone and pharmacotherapy alone had significantly better response rates, with no significant difference between them (relative risk, 1.60 and RR, 1.65, respectively). The combination of psychotherapy and pharmacotherapy was even better (RR, 2.15), whereas the wait list was less effective (RR, 0.68).

When comparing combined therapy with psychotherapy or pharmacotherapy, the superiority of combination therapy over psychotherapy was only slightly statistically significant (RR, 1.35; 95% confidence interval, 1.00-1.81), while pharmacotherapy was only slightly inferior (RR, 1.30; 95% CI, 0.98-1.73).

“The significance level is not very high, which is related to statistical power,” said Dr. Cuijpers. “But the mean benefit is quite substantial in my opinion, with a 35% higher chance of response in the combined treatment, compared to psychotherapy alone.”

Looking at the outcome of remission, (normally defined as a score of 7 or less on the HAM-D), the outcomes were “comparable to those for response, with the exception that combined treatment was not significantly different from psychotherapy,” they wrote.

One important caveat is that several studies included in the NMA included patients with moderate to severe depression, a population that is different from the usual primary care population of depressed patients who have mild to moderate symptoms. Antidepressant medications are also assumed to work better against more severe symptoms, added the authors. “The inclusion of these studies might therefore have resulted in an overestimation of the effects of pharmacotherapy in the present NMA.”

Among other limitations, the authors noted that studies included mixed populations of patients with dysthymia and major depression; they also made no distinction between different types of antidepressants.
 

Psychotherapies unknown, but meta-analysis is still useful

Commenting on these findings, Neil Skolnik, MD, professor of family and community medicine at Sidney Kimmel Medical College, Philadelphia, said this is “an important study, confirming and extending the conclusions” of a systematic review published in 2016 as a Clinical Practice Guideline from the American College of Physicians.

“Unfortunately, the authors did not specify what type of psychotherapy was studied in the meta-analysis, so we have to look elsewhere if we want to advise our patients on what type of psychotherapy to seek, since there are important differences between different types of therapy,” he said.

Still, he described the study as providing “helpful information for the practicing clinician, as it gives us solid information with which to engage and advise patients in a shared decision-making process for effective treatment of depression.”

“Some patients will choose psychotherapy, some will choose medications. They can make either choice with the confidence that both approaches are effective,” Dr. Skolnik elaborated. “In addition, if psychotherapy does not seem to be sufficiently helping we are on solid ground adding an antidepressant medication to psychotherapy, with this data showing that the combined treatment works better than psychotherapy alone.”

Dr. Cuijpers receives allowances for his memberships on the board of directors of Mind, Fonds Psychische Gezondheid, and Korrelatie, and for being chair of the PACO committee of the Raad voor Civiel-militaire Zorg en Onderzoek of the Dutch Ministry of Defense. He also serves as deputy editor of Depression and Anxiety and associate editor of Psychological Bulletin, and he receives royalties for books he has authored or coauthored. He received grants from the European Union, ZonMw, and PFGV. Another study author reported receiving personal fees from Mitsubishi-Tanabe, MSD, and Shionogi and a grant from Mitsubishi-Tanabe outside the submitted work. One author has received research and consultancy fees from INCiPiT (Italian Network for Paediatric Trials), CARIPLO Foundation, and Angelini Pharmam, while another reported receiving personal fees from Boehringer Ingelheim, Kyowa Kirin, ASKA Pharmaceutical, and Toyota Motor Corporation outside the submitted work. The other authors and Dr. Skolnik reported no conflicts.

Psychiatrists often develop long-term relationships with their patients, but what happens when a patient dies? Should the psychiatrist attend the patient’s funeral?

It’s a question Ashley Pettaway, MD, faced as a medical resident at the University of Alabama School of Medicine.

For 2 months, Dr. Pettaway was involved in the day-to-day care of a woman in her 40s who ultimately died. As part of that care, Dr. Pettaway had regular meetings with the patient’s husband and family members.

“The patient was about my mother’s age, so I naturally was kind of attached to her,” Dr. Pettaway told this news organization. After she died, her family invited Dr. Pettaway to the funeral.

“While I couldn’t make it to the funeral, it got me thinking. Should I go? If I go, what do I say? Who do I sit with? How do I introduce myself?” wondered Dr. Pettaway, now a resident in the department of psychiatry and neurobehavioral sciences, University of Virginia, Charlottesville.

She turned to the literature but found very little regarding psychiatrists attending their patients’ funerals. “This was surprising to me because in psychiatry, you can get so engrossed in patients’ lives,” Dr. Pettaway said.

Given the lack of rules or formal guidance on psychiatrists attending patients’ funerals, Dr. Pettaway and her mentor, Gabrielle Marzani, MD, conducted an informal survey of 12 supervising psychiatrists at the University of Virginia.

The survey results were presented at the virtual American Psychiatric Association 2021 Annual Meeting.

Ten of the 12 psychiatrists who were surveyed were caring for a patient who died while under their care. Five of those psychiatrists reported going to at least one patient’s funeral over the course of their career.

Among the psychiatrists who attended a patient’s funeral, their attendance was often based on their clinical intuition, their relationship with the family, or whether the patient was an established presence in the community. In the latter case, the psychiatrist attended as a community member.

The number of years in practice also mattered. Fewer senior faculty reported that they would be hesitant to attend and that they would not attend without a formal invitation from the family. Senior career psychiatrists were more likely to attend and felt that an invitation was not required.

None of the psychiatrists surveyed had received training or guidance on attending patients’ funerals at any point in their career.

Given the absence of formal recommendations, Dr. Pettaway believes increased conversation on this topic as part of residency training programs would help psychiatrists navigate these complex situations.
 

A complex issue

Commenting on the topic for an interview, Paul S. Appelbaum, MD, professor of psychiatry, medicine, and law at Columbia University, New York, said this is an “interesting and important topic that is underdiscussed.”

“I don’t think there’s a right answer that applies to every situation,” said Dr. Appelbaum, a past president of the APA.

There will be times, he said, when psychiatrists or other mental health professionals have worked closely with a patient for many years and may have interacted with the family over that period.

“When that patient passes away, they may feel, and the family may feel, that it would be comforting and appropriate for them to be at the funeral,” said Dr. Appelbaum.

However, he added, it’s important that psychiatrists “take the lead from the family.”

“There are obviously a number of complexities involved. One is how the family feels about the relationship with the psychiatrist – whether they were accepting of the reality that the patient had a mental disorder and was in treatment,” he said.

There is also the question of confidentiality, said Dr. Appelbaum.

“If it’s a large funeral and the psychiatrist is just one face in the crowd, that’s not likely to be an issue. But if it’s a relatively small group of mourners, all of whom know each other, and an unknown figure pops up, that could raise questions and perhaps inadvertently reveal to family members or friends that the deceased had a psychiatric condition and was in treatment. That needs to be taken into account as well,” he added.

In cases in which the family invites the psychiatrist, confidentiality is not a concern, and attendance by the psychiatrist is something the patient would have wanted, said Dr. Appelbaum.

How the patient died may also be factor. When a patient dies by suicide, it’s an “emotionally charged situation for both sides,” said Dr. Appelbaum.

In the case of a suicide, he noted, the deceased was often an active patient, and both the psychiatrist and the family are dealing with strong emotions – the psychiatrist with regret over loss of the patient and perhaps with questions as to what could have been done differently, and the family with sorrow but “also sometimes with suspicion or anger in that the psychiatrist somehow failed to keep the patient alive,” Dr. Appelbaum noted.

“In this situation, it’s even more crucial for the psychiatrist or other mental health professionals to take the lead from the family – perhaps to initiate contact to express condolences and inquire delicately about the funeral arrangements and whether their presence would be welcomed,” he said.

The research had no specific funding. Dr. Pettaway and Dr. Appelbaum have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Psychiatrists often develop long-term relationships with their patients, but what happens when a patient dies? Should the psychiatrist attend the patient’s funeral?

It’s a question Ashley Pettaway, MD, faced as a medical resident at the University of Alabama School of Medicine.

For 2 months, Dr. Pettaway was involved in the day-to-day care of a woman in her 40s who ultimately died. As part of that care, Dr. Pettaway had regular meetings with the patient’s husband and family members.

“The patient was about my mother’s age, so I naturally was kind of attached to her,” Dr. Pettaway told this news organization. After she died, her family invited Dr. Pettaway to the funeral.

“While I couldn’t make it to the funeral, it got me thinking. Should I go? If I go, what do I say? Who do I sit with? How do I introduce myself?” wondered Dr. Pettaway, now a resident in the department of psychiatry and neurobehavioral sciences, University of Virginia, Charlottesville.

She turned to the literature but found very little regarding psychiatrists attending their patients’ funerals. “This was surprising to me because in psychiatry, you can get so engrossed in patients’ lives,” Dr. Pettaway said.

Given the lack of rules or formal guidance on psychiatrists attending patients’ funerals, Dr. Pettaway and her mentor, Gabrielle Marzani, MD, conducted an informal survey of 12 supervising psychiatrists at the University of Virginia.

The survey results were presented at the virtual American Psychiatric Association 2021 Annual Meeting.

Ten of the 12 psychiatrists who were surveyed were caring for a patient who died while under their care. Five of those psychiatrists reported going to at least one patient’s funeral over the course of their career.

Among the psychiatrists who attended a patient’s funeral, their attendance was often based on their clinical intuition, their relationship with the family, or whether the patient was an established presence in the community. In the latter case, the psychiatrist attended as a community member.

The number of years in practice also mattered. Fewer senior faculty reported that they would be hesitant to attend and that they would not attend without a formal invitation from the family. Senior career psychiatrists were more likely to attend and felt that an invitation was not required.

None of the psychiatrists surveyed had received training or guidance on attending patients’ funerals at any point in their career.

Given the absence of formal recommendations, Dr. Pettaway believes increased conversation on this topic as part of residency training programs would help psychiatrists navigate these complex situations.
 

A complex issue

Commenting on the topic for an interview, Paul S. Appelbaum, MD, professor of psychiatry, medicine, and law at Columbia University, New York, said this is an “interesting and important topic that is underdiscussed.”

“I don’t think there’s a right answer that applies to every situation,” said Dr. Appelbaum, a past president of the APA.

There will be times, he said, when psychiatrists or other mental health professionals have worked closely with a patient for many years and may have interacted with the family over that period.

“When that patient passes away, they may feel, and the family may feel, that it would be comforting and appropriate for them to be at the funeral,” said Dr. Appelbaum.

However, he added, it’s important that psychiatrists “take the lead from the family.”

“There are obviously a number of complexities involved. One is how the family feels about the relationship with the psychiatrist – whether they were accepting of the reality that the patient had a mental disorder and was in treatment,” he said.

There is also the question of confidentiality, said Dr. Appelbaum.

“If it’s a large funeral and the psychiatrist is just one face in the crowd, that’s not likely to be an issue. But if it’s a relatively small group of mourners, all of whom know each other, and an unknown figure pops up, that could raise questions and perhaps inadvertently reveal to family members or friends that the deceased had a psychiatric condition and was in treatment. That needs to be taken into account as well,” he added.

In cases in which the family invites the psychiatrist, confidentiality is not a concern, and attendance by the psychiatrist is something the patient would have wanted, said Dr. Appelbaum.

How the patient died may also be factor. When a patient dies by suicide, it’s an “emotionally charged situation for both sides,” said Dr. Appelbaum.

In the case of a suicide, he noted, the deceased was often an active patient, and both the psychiatrist and the family are dealing with strong emotions – the psychiatrist with regret over loss of the patient and perhaps with questions as to what could have been done differently, and the family with sorrow but “also sometimes with suspicion or anger in that the psychiatrist somehow failed to keep the patient alive,” Dr. Appelbaum noted.

“In this situation, it’s even more crucial for the psychiatrist or other mental health professionals to take the lead from the family – perhaps to initiate contact to express condolences and inquire delicately about the funeral arrangements and whether their presence would be welcomed,” he said.

The research had no specific funding. Dr. Pettaway and Dr. Appelbaum have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Psychiatrists often develop long-term relationships with their patients, but what happens when a patient dies? Should the psychiatrist attend the patient’s funeral?

It’s a question Ashley Pettaway, MD, faced as a medical resident at the University of Alabama School of Medicine.

For 2 months, Dr. Pettaway was involved in the day-to-day care of a woman in her 40s who ultimately died. As part of that care, Dr. Pettaway had regular meetings with the patient’s husband and family members.

“The patient was about my mother’s age, so I naturally was kind of attached to her,” Dr. Pettaway told this news organization. After she died, her family invited Dr. Pettaway to the funeral.

“While I couldn’t make it to the funeral, it got me thinking. Should I go? If I go, what do I say? Who do I sit with? How do I introduce myself?” wondered Dr. Pettaway, now a resident in the department of psychiatry and neurobehavioral sciences, University of Virginia, Charlottesville.

She turned to the literature but found very little regarding psychiatrists attending their patients’ funerals. “This was surprising to me because in psychiatry, you can get so engrossed in patients’ lives,” Dr. Pettaway said.

Given the lack of rules or formal guidance on psychiatrists attending patients’ funerals, Dr. Pettaway and her mentor, Gabrielle Marzani, MD, conducted an informal survey of 12 supervising psychiatrists at the University of Virginia.

The survey results were presented at the virtual American Psychiatric Association 2021 Annual Meeting.

Ten of the 12 psychiatrists who were surveyed were caring for a patient who died while under their care. Five of those psychiatrists reported going to at least one patient’s funeral over the course of their career.

Among the psychiatrists who attended a patient’s funeral, their attendance was often based on their clinical intuition, their relationship with the family, or whether the patient was an established presence in the community. In the latter case, the psychiatrist attended as a community member.

The number of years in practice also mattered. Fewer senior faculty reported that they would be hesitant to attend and that they would not attend without a formal invitation from the family. Senior career psychiatrists were more likely to attend and felt that an invitation was not required.

None of the psychiatrists surveyed had received training or guidance on attending patients’ funerals at any point in their career.

Given the absence of formal recommendations, Dr. Pettaway believes increased conversation on this topic as part of residency training programs would help psychiatrists navigate these complex situations.
 

A complex issue

Commenting on the topic for an interview, Paul S. Appelbaum, MD, professor of psychiatry, medicine, and law at Columbia University, New York, said this is an “interesting and important topic that is underdiscussed.”

“I don’t think there’s a right answer that applies to every situation,” said Dr. Appelbaum, a past president of the APA.

There will be times, he said, when psychiatrists or other mental health professionals have worked closely with a patient for many years and may have interacted with the family over that period.

“When that patient passes away, they may feel, and the family may feel, that it would be comforting and appropriate for them to be at the funeral,” said Dr. Appelbaum.

However, he added, it’s important that psychiatrists “take the lead from the family.”

“There are obviously a number of complexities involved. One is how the family feels about the relationship with the psychiatrist – whether they were accepting of the reality that the patient had a mental disorder and was in treatment,” he said.

There is also the question of confidentiality, said Dr. Appelbaum.

“If it’s a large funeral and the psychiatrist is just one face in the crowd, that’s not likely to be an issue. But if it’s a relatively small group of mourners, all of whom know each other, and an unknown figure pops up, that could raise questions and perhaps inadvertently reveal to family members or friends that the deceased had a psychiatric condition and was in treatment. That needs to be taken into account as well,” he added.

In cases in which the family invites the psychiatrist, confidentiality is not a concern, and attendance by the psychiatrist is something the patient would have wanted, said Dr. Appelbaum.

How the patient died may also be factor. When a patient dies by suicide, it’s an “emotionally charged situation for both sides,” said Dr. Appelbaum.

In the case of a suicide, he noted, the deceased was often an active patient, and both the psychiatrist and the family are dealing with strong emotions – the psychiatrist with regret over loss of the patient and perhaps with questions as to what could have been done differently, and the family with sorrow but “also sometimes with suspicion or anger in that the psychiatrist somehow failed to keep the patient alive,” Dr. Appelbaum noted.

“In this situation, it’s even more crucial for the psychiatrist or other mental health professionals to take the lead from the family – perhaps to initiate contact to express condolences and inquire delicately about the funeral arrangements and whether their presence would be welcomed,” he said.

The research had no specific funding. Dr. Pettaway and Dr. Appelbaum have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

An online, culturally based peer support group that uses theater and other creative outlets is helping Asian Americans cope with the COVID-19 pandemic, new research shows.

The findings of the qualitative study suggest that the program could be a model to support the mental health of other minority community groups during the COVID pandemic and beyond, say investigators from the Yale University Child Study Center, New Haven, Conn.

The Yale Compassionate Home, Action Together (CHATogether) group was created to promote emotional wellness among Asian American youth, young adults, and their families.

Early in the pandemic, it expanded its purpose to serve as a COVID-19 support group. Through social media outreach, CHATogether encourages members to cope with COVID-19 by using productive and creative outlets.

“We are a community education program serving Asian American families,” said Eunice Yuen, MD, PhD, the program’s founder and director, who is with the Yale University Child Study Center.

“We started when the pandemic began, and we realized the unique emotional distress shared among Asian American families, such as family conflict and xenophobic attacks,” said Dr. Yuen.

She discussed the program at the annual meeting of the American Psychiatric Association, which was held as a virtual live event.
 

Skits, role playing

CHATogether groups consist of people with similar experiences and challenges who support each other through weekly online group meetings, she explained.

Group members work together to create family conflict scenarios and role-play dialogues on topics amplified during the COVID-19 pandemic, such as cross-cultural challenges among Asian Americans, academic expectations in home schooling, and Black Lives Matter and LGBTQ conflicts within Asian families.

Group members create skits that are based on their personal experiences and that allow them to work through their own internal conflicts and gain a sense of agency, said Dr. Yuen.

“CHATogether is really the interface of mental health, art, and theater, and we’re trying to create a vehicle that can be a lighthearted way for people to talk about mental health, especially for Asian American families,” said Dr. Yuen.

Preliminary results from a focus group with 10 CHATogether members who joined the program since the pandemic started identified four major ways in which the program has had a positive impact on the mental health and well-being of participants:

• It provides a safe and supportive environment, strengthens bonds between members, and increases the sense of belonging, thus encouraging engagement.
• It provides structural consistency/stability through regular meetings and consistent group functions. Weekly meetings provide a sense of control and hope in the midst of uncertainty during periods of sheltering in place.
• Through adapting the group to virtual platforms, group members experience the inherent strengths of a growth mindset and cognitive flexibility when facing challenges.
• It supports healthy coping skills through sublimation and altruism.

Looking ahead, Dr. Yuen said, the team plans to investigate the validity and effectiveness of this model and to expand the group to include other minorities, school educators, and medical education for trainees and medical students.

Commenting on the program, briefing moderator Jeffrey Borenstein, MD, president and CEO of the Brain and Behavior Research Foundation and editor-in-chief of Psychiatric News, described the initiative as a “great project that serves as a model that can be used not only for Asian Americans but for other groups.

“I think the key to it is that cultural sensitivity that we need to really take into account and cultural differences among people in order to best engage them and help support them. I think this program does that beautifully,” said Dr. Borenstein.

The work was supported by the APA’s Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration Minority Fellowship, which provides a 1-year fellowship to psychiatry residents committed to addressing minority psychiatric mental health issues. Dr. Yuen and Dr. Borenstein disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

An online, culturally based peer support group that uses theater and other creative outlets is helping Asian Americans cope with the COVID-19 pandemic, new research shows.

The findings of the qualitative study suggest that the program could be a model to support the mental health of other minority community groups during the COVID pandemic and beyond, say investigators from the Yale University Child Study Center, New Haven, Conn.

The Yale Compassionate Home, Action Together (CHATogether) group was created to promote emotional wellness among Asian American youth, young adults, and their families.

Early in the pandemic, it expanded its purpose to serve as a COVID-19 support group. Through social media outreach, CHATogether encourages members to cope with COVID-19 by using productive and creative outlets.

“We are a community education program serving Asian American families,” said Eunice Yuen, MD, PhD, the program’s founder and director, who is with the Yale University Child Study Center.

“We started when the pandemic began, and we realized the unique emotional distress shared among Asian American families, such as family conflict and xenophobic attacks,” said Dr. Yuen.

She discussed the program at the annual meeting of the American Psychiatric Association, which was held as a virtual live event.
 

Skits, role playing

CHATogether groups consist of people with similar experiences and challenges who support each other through weekly online group meetings, she explained.

Group members work together to create family conflict scenarios and role-play dialogues on topics amplified during the COVID-19 pandemic, such as cross-cultural challenges among Asian Americans, academic expectations in home schooling, and Black Lives Matter and LGBTQ conflicts within Asian families.

Group members create skits that are based on their personal experiences and that allow them to work through their own internal conflicts and gain a sense of agency, said Dr. Yuen.

“CHATogether is really the interface of mental health, art, and theater, and we’re trying to create a vehicle that can be a lighthearted way for people to talk about mental health, especially for Asian American families,” said Dr. Yuen.

Preliminary results from a focus group with 10 CHATogether members who joined the program since the pandemic started identified four major ways in which the program has had a positive impact on the mental health and well-being of participants:

• It provides a safe and supportive environment, strengthens bonds between members, and increases the sense of belonging, thus encouraging engagement.
• It provides structural consistency/stability through regular meetings and consistent group functions. Weekly meetings provide a sense of control and hope in the midst of uncertainty during periods of sheltering in place.
• Through adapting the group to virtual platforms, group members experience the inherent strengths of a growth mindset and cognitive flexibility when facing challenges.
• It supports healthy coping skills through sublimation and altruism.

Looking ahead, Dr. Yuen said, the team plans to investigate the validity and effectiveness of this model and to expand the group to include other minorities, school educators, and medical education for trainees and medical students.

Commenting on the program, briefing moderator Jeffrey Borenstein, MD, president and CEO of the Brain and Behavior Research Foundation and editor-in-chief of Psychiatric News, described the initiative as a “great project that serves as a model that can be used not only for Asian Americans but for other groups.

“I think the key to it is that cultural sensitivity that we need to really take into account and cultural differences among people in order to best engage them and help support them. I think this program does that beautifully,” said Dr. Borenstein.

The work was supported by the APA’s Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration Minority Fellowship, which provides a 1-year fellowship to psychiatry residents committed to addressing minority psychiatric mental health issues. Dr. Yuen and Dr. Borenstein disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

An online, culturally based peer support group that uses theater and other creative outlets is helping Asian Americans cope with the COVID-19 pandemic, new research shows.

The findings of the qualitative study suggest that the program could be a model to support the mental health of other minority community groups during the COVID pandemic and beyond, say investigators from the Yale University Child Study Center, New Haven, Conn.

The Yale Compassionate Home, Action Together (CHATogether) group was created to promote emotional wellness among Asian American youth, young adults, and their families.

Early in the pandemic, it expanded its purpose to serve as a COVID-19 support group. Through social media outreach, CHATogether encourages members to cope with COVID-19 by using productive and creative outlets.

“We are a community education program serving Asian American families,” said Eunice Yuen, MD, PhD, the program’s founder and director, who is with the Yale University Child Study Center.

“We started when the pandemic began, and we realized the unique emotional distress shared among Asian American families, such as family conflict and xenophobic attacks,” said Dr. Yuen.

She discussed the program at the annual meeting of the American Psychiatric Association, which was held as a virtual live event.
 

Skits, role playing

CHATogether groups consist of people with similar experiences and challenges who support each other through weekly online group meetings, she explained.

Group members work together to create family conflict scenarios and role-play dialogues on topics amplified during the COVID-19 pandemic, such as cross-cultural challenges among Asian Americans, academic expectations in home schooling, and Black Lives Matter and LGBTQ conflicts within Asian families.

Group members create skits that are based on their personal experiences and that allow them to work through their own internal conflicts and gain a sense of agency, said Dr. Yuen.

“CHATogether is really the interface of mental health, art, and theater, and we’re trying to create a vehicle that can be a lighthearted way for people to talk about mental health, especially for Asian American families,” said Dr. Yuen.

Preliminary results from a focus group with 10 CHATogether members who joined the program since the pandemic started identified four major ways in which the program has had a positive impact on the mental health and well-being of participants:

• It provides a safe and supportive environment, strengthens bonds between members, and increases the sense of belonging, thus encouraging engagement.
• It provides structural consistency/stability through regular meetings and consistent group functions. Weekly meetings provide a sense of control and hope in the midst of uncertainty during periods of sheltering in place.
• Through adapting the group to virtual platforms, group members experience the inherent strengths of a growth mindset and cognitive flexibility when facing challenges.
• It supports healthy coping skills through sublimation and altruism.

Looking ahead, Dr. Yuen said, the team plans to investigate the validity and effectiveness of this model and to expand the group to include other minorities, school educators, and medical education for trainees and medical students.

Commenting on the program, briefing moderator Jeffrey Borenstein, MD, president and CEO of the Brain and Behavior Research Foundation and editor-in-chief of Psychiatric News, described the initiative as a “great project that serves as a model that can be used not only for Asian Americans but for other groups.

“I think the key to it is that cultural sensitivity that we need to really take into account and cultural differences among people in order to best engage them and help support them. I think this program does that beautifully,” said Dr. Borenstein.

The work was supported by the APA’s Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration Minority Fellowship, which provides a 1-year fellowship to psychiatry residents committed to addressing minority psychiatric mental health issues. Dr. Yuen and Dr. Borenstein disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Current models used to predict suicide risk fall short for racialized populations including Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC), new research shows.

Investigators developed two suicide prediction models to examine whether these types of tools are accurate in their predictive abilities, or whether they are flawed.

They found both prediction models failed to identify high-risk BIPOC individuals. In the first model, nearly half of outpatient visits followed by suicide were identified in White patients versus only 7% of visits followed by suicide in BIPOC patients. The second model had a sensitivity of 41% for White patients, but just 3% for Black patients and 7% for American Indian/Alaskan Native patients.

Racial inequities

Suicide risk prediction models have been “developed and validated in several settings” and are now in regular use at the Veterans Health Administration, HealthPartners, and Kaiser Permanente, the authors wrote.

But the performance of suicide risk prediction models, while accurate in the overall population, “remains unexamined” in particular subpopulations, they noted.

“Health records data reflect existing racial and ethnic inequities in health care access, quality, and outcomes; and prediction models using health records data may perpetuate these disparities by presuming that past healthcare patterns accurately reflect actual needs,” Dr. Coley said.

Dr. Coley and associates “wanted to make sure that any suicide prediction model we implemented in clinical care reduced health disparities rather than exacerbated them.”

To investigate, researchers examined all outpatient mental health visits to seven large integrated health care systems by patients 13 years and older (n = 13,980,570 visits by 1,422,534 patients; 64% female, mean age, 42 years). The study spanned from Jan. 1, 2009, to Sept. 30, 2017, with follow-up through Dec. 31, 2017.

In particular, researchers looked at suicides that took place within 90 days following the outpatient visit.

Researchers used two prediction models: logistic regression with LASSO (Least Absolute Shrinkage and Selection Operator) variable selection and random forest technique, a “tree-based method that explores interactions between predictors (including those with race and ethnicity) in estimating probability of an outcome.”

The models considered prespecified interactions between predictors, including prior diagnoses, suicide attempts, and PHQ-9 [Patient Health Questionnaire–9] responses, and race and ethnicity data.

Researchers evaluated performance of the prediction models in the overall validation set and within subgroups defined by race/ethnicity.

The area under the curve measured model discrimination, and sensitivity was estimated for global and race/ethnicity-specific thresholds.
 

‘Unacceptable’ scenario

Within the total population, there were 768 deaths by suicide within 90 days of 3,143 visits. Suicide rates were highest for visits by patients with no recorded race/ethnicity, followed by visits by Asian, White, American Indian/Alaskan Native, Hispanic, and Black patients.

Both models showed “high” AUC sensitivity for White, Hispanic, and Asian patients but “poor” AUC sensitivity for BIPOC and patients without recorded race/ethnicity, the authors reported.

“Implementation of prediction models has to be considered in the broader context of unmet health care needs,” said Dr. Coley.

“In our specific example of suicide prediction, BIPOC populations already face substantial barriers in accessing quality mental health care and, as a result, have poorer outcomes, and using either of the suicide prediction models examined in our study will provide less benefit to already-underserved populations and widen existing care gaps,” a scenario Dr. Coley said is “unacceptable.”

“We must insist that new technologies and methods be used to reduce racial and ethnic inequities in care, not exacerbate them,” she added.
 

Biased algorithms

Commenting on the study, Jonathan Singer, PhD, LCSW, associate professor at Loyola University, Chicago, described it as an “important contribution because it points to a systemic problem and also to the fact that the algorithms we create are biased, created by humans, and humans are biased.”

Although the study focused on the health care system, Dr. Singer believes the findings have implications for individual clinicians.

“If clinicians may be biased against identifying suicide risk in Black and Native American patients, they may attribute suicidal risk to something else. For example, we know that in Black Americans, expressions of intense emotions are oftentimes interpreted as aggression or being threatening, as opposed to indicators of sadness or fear,” noted Dr. Singer, who is also president of the American Academy of Suicidology and was not involved with the study,

“Clinicians who misinterpret these intense emotions are less likely to identify a Black client or patient who is suicidal,” Dr. Singer said.

The research was supported by the Mental Health Research Network from the National Institute of Mental Health. Dr. Coley has reported receiving support through a grant from the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality. Dr. Singer reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Current models used to predict suicide risk fall short for racialized populations including Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC), new research shows.

Investigators developed two suicide prediction models to examine whether these types of tools are accurate in their predictive abilities, or whether they are flawed.

They found both prediction models failed to identify high-risk BIPOC individuals. In the first model, nearly half of outpatient visits followed by suicide were identified in White patients versus only 7% of visits followed by suicide in BIPOC patients. The second model had a sensitivity of 41% for White patients, but just 3% for Black patients and 7% for American Indian/Alaskan Native patients.

Racial inequities

Suicide risk prediction models have been “developed and validated in several settings” and are now in regular use at the Veterans Health Administration, HealthPartners, and Kaiser Permanente, the authors wrote.

But the performance of suicide risk prediction models, while accurate in the overall population, “remains unexamined” in particular subpopulations, they noted.

“Health records data reflect existing racial and ethnic inequities in health care access, quality, and outcomes; and prediction models using health records data may perpetuate these disparities by presuming that past healthcare patterns accurately reflect actual needs,” Dr. Coley said.

Dr. Coley and associates “wanted to make sure that any suicide prediction model we implemented in clinical care reduced health disparities rather than exacerbated them.”

To investigate, researchers examined all outpatient mental health visits to seven large integrated health care systems by patients 13 years and older (n = 13,980,570 visits by 1,422,534 patients; 64% female, mean age, 42 years). The study spanned from Jan. 1, 2009, to Sept. 30, 2017, with follow-up through Dec. 31, 2017.

In particular, researchers looked at suicides that took place within 90 days following the outpatient visit.

Researchers used two prediction models: logistic regression with LASSO (Least Absolute Shrinkage and Selection Operator) variable selection and random forest technique, a “tree-based method that explores interactions between predictors (including those with race and ethnicity) in estimating probability of an outcome.”

The models considered prespecified interactions between predictors, including prior diagnoses, suicide attempts, and PHQ-9 [Patient Health Questionnaire–9] responses, and race and ethnicity data.

Researchers evaluated performance of the prediction models in the overall validation set and within subgroups defined by race/ethnicity.

The area under the curve measured model discrimination, and sensitivity was estimated for global and race/ethnicity-specific thresholds.
 

‘Unacceptable’ scenario

Within the total population, there were 768 deaths by suicide within 90 days of 3,143 visits. Suicide rates were highest for visits by patients with no recorded race/ethnicity, followed by visits by Asian, White, American Indian/Alaskan Native, Hispanic, and Black patients.

Both models showed “high” AUC sensitivity for White, Hispanic, and Asian patients but “poor” AUC sensitivity for BIPOC and patients without recorded race/ethnicity, the authors reported.

“Implementation of prediction models has to be considered in the broader context of unmet health care needs,” said Dr. Coley.

“In our specific example of suicide prediction, BIPOC populations already face substantial barriers in accessing quality mental health care and, as a result, have poorer outcomes, and using either of the suicide prediction models examined in our study will provide less benefit to already-underserved populations and widen existing care gaps,” a scenario Dr. Coley said is “unacceptable.”

“We must insist that new technologies and methods be used to reduce racial and ethnic inequities in care, not exacerbate them,” she added.
 

Biased algorithms

Commenting on the study, Jonathan Singer, PhD, LCSW, associate professor at Loyola University, Chicago, described it as an “important contribution because it points to a systemic problem and also to the fact that the algorithms we create are biased, created by humans, and humans are biased.”

Although the study focused on the health care system, Dr. Singer believes the findings have implications for individual clinicians.

“If clinicians may be biased against identifying suicide risk in Black and Native American patients, they may attribute suicidal risk to something else. For example, we know that in Black Americans, expressions of intense emotions are oftentimes interpreted as aggression or being threatening, as opposed to indicators of sadness or fear,” noted Dr. Singer, who is also president of the American Academy of Suicidology and was not involved with the study,

“Clinicians who misinterpret these intense emotions are less likely to identify a Black client or patient who is suicidal,” Dr. Singer said.

The research was supported by the Mental Health Research Network from the National Institute of Mental Health. Dr. Coley has reported receiving support through a grant from the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality. Dr. Singer reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Current models used to predict suicide risk fall short for racialized populations including Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC), new research shows.

Investigators developed two suicide prediction models to examine whether these types of tools are accurate in their predictive abilities, or whether they are flawed.

They found both prediction models failed to identify high-risk BIPOC individuals. In the first model, nearly half of outpatient visits followed by suicide were identified in White patients versus only 7% of visits followed by suicide in BIPOC patients. The second model had a sensitivity of 41% for White patients, but just 3% for Black patients and 7% for American Indian/Alaskan Native patients.

Racial inequities

Suicide risk prediction models have been “developed and validated in several settings” and are now in regular use at the Veterans Health Administration, HealthPartners, and Kaiser Permanente, the authors wrote.

But the performance of suicide risk prediction models, while accurate in the overall population, “remains unexamined” in particular subpopulations, they noted.

“Health records data reflect existing racial and ethnic inequities in health care access, quality, and outcomes; and prediction models using health records data may perpetuate these disparities by presuming that past healthcare patterns accurately reflect actual needs,” Dr. Coley said.

Dr. Coley and associates “wanted to make sure that any suicide prediction model we implemented in clinical care reduced health disparities rather than exacerbated them.”

To investigate, researchers examined all outpatient mental health visits to seven large integrated health care systems by patients 13 years and older (n = 13,980,570 visits by 1,422,534 patients; 64% female, mean age, 42 years). The study spanned from Jan. 1, 2009, to Sept. 30, 2017, with follow-up through Dec. 31, 2017.

In particular, researchers looked at suicides that took place within 90 days following the outpatient visit.

Researchers used two prediction models: logistic regression with LASSO (Least Absolute Shrinkage and Selection Operator) variable selection and random forest technique, a “tree-based method that explores interactions between predictors (including those with race and ethnicity) in estimating probability of an outcome.”

The models considered prespecified interactions between predictors, including prior diagnoses, suicide attempts, and PHQ-9 [Patient Health Questionnaire–9] responses, and race and ethnicity data.

Researchers evaluated performance of the prediction models in the overall validation set and within subgroups defined by race/ethnicity.

The area under the curve measured model discrimination, and sensitivity was estimated for global and race/ethnicity-specific thresholds.
 

‘Unacceptable’ scenario

Within the total population, there were 768 deaths by suicide within 90 days of 3,143 visits. Suicide rates were highest for visits by patients with no recorded race/ethnicity, followed by visits by Asian, White, American Indian/Alaskan Native, Hispanic, and Black patients.

Both models showed “high” AUC sensitivity for White, Hispanic, and Asian patients but “poor” AUC sensitivity for BIPOC and patients without recorded race/ethnicity, the authors reported.

“Implementation of prediction models has to be considered in the broader context of unmet health care needs,” said Dr. Coley.

“In our specific example of suicide prediction, BIPOC populations already face substantial barriers in accessing quality mental health care and, as a result, have poorer outcomes, and using either of the suicide prediction models examined in our study will provide less benefit to already-underserved populations and widen existing care gaps,” a scenario Dr. Coley said is “unacceptable.”

“We must insist that new technologies and methods be used to reduce racial and ethnic inequities in care, not exacerbate them,” she added.
 

Biased algorithms

Commenting on the study, Jonathan Singer, PhD, LCSW, associate professor at Loyola University, Chicago, described it as an “important contribution because it points to a systemic problem and also to the fact that the algorithms we create are biased, created by humans, and humans are biased.”

Although the study focused on the health care system, Dr. Singer believes the findings have implications for individual clinicians.

“If clinicians may be biased against identifying suicide risk in Black and Native American patients, they may attribute suicidal risk to something else. For example, we know that in Black Americans, expressions of intense emotions are oftentimes interpreted as aggression or being threatening, as opposed to indicators of sadness or fear,” noted Dr. Singer, who is also president of the American Academy of Suicidology and was not involved with the study,

“Clinicians who misinterpret these intense emotions are less likely to identify a Black client or patient who is suicidal,” Dr. Singer said.

The research was supported by the Mental Health Research Network from the National Institute of Mental Health. Dr. Coley has reported receiving support through a grant from the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality. Dr. Singer reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Recently, a patient excitedly told me during her session that she had been coming to see me for about 24 years. This was followed by positive remarks about where she was at the point when she first walked into my office.

Her progress has been slow but steady – and today, she finds herself at a much better place even within the context of having to deal with life’s complications. Her surprise about the longevity of this therapeutic relationship was easily and comfortably balanced by the pleasant feeling of well-being.

This interaction reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend of mine, an ophthalmologist who once asked me a related question: Why is it that people have been coming to see me for decades and I have not been able to “fix” them? Does that make me feel badly?

I clearly remember my response, which started in more of a defensive mode but ended with some self-reflection. I reminded him that, in his specialty, like many other fields of medicine, we don’t get to “fix” a lot. In fact, the majority of the conditions we deal with are chronic and lingering.

However, during the process of reminding him to look in the mirror, I was also able to articulate that many of these patients came into my office in potentially dire situations, including experiencing severe depression and suicidal thoughts, ignoring basic needs such as hygiene, feeling paralyzed with panic attacks, or having complete inability to deal with day-to-day situations.

Decades later, many of these patients, while still struggling with some ongoing issues, appeared to be alive and well – and we have wonderful interactions in our office where I get to talk to them about exciting things they’re looking forward to doing with their families or for themselves. Similar analogies can be applied to almost all medical specialties. An endocrinologist might help a patient with severe diabetes or hypothyroid disease get the illness under control but is not able to fix the problem. Clearly, patients’ quality of life improves tremendously through treatment with medications and with education about lifestyle changes, such as exercise and diet.

Even in the case of surgeons who may successfully remove the problem tissue or tumor, the patient is not in fact “fixed” and still requires ongoing medical care, psychosocial interventions, and pharmacotherapy to maintain or improve upon quality of life.

My patient’s remarks led to a similar, delightful therapeutic session reflecting on her progress and what it meant to both of us. We physicians certainly find it very frustrating that we are unable to fix things and make people feel completely better. However, it is important to reflect on the difference our contribution to the process of healing makes for our patients and the impact it has on their quality of life – which is meaningful to them, however small it may be.

Even in the most severe medical or psychiatric cases, we can provide hope and encouragement, which could lead to minimal or no improvement in the pathological condition but may in fact improve patients’ outlook and willingness to carry on with dignity and satisfaction. It could do us all a lot of good to think of ourselves as healers – not fixers.
 

Dr. Awan, a psychiatrist, is medical director of Pennsylvania Counseling Services in Reading. He disclosed no conflicts of interest.

Recently, a patient excitedly told me during her session that she had been coming to see me for about 24 years. This was followed by positive remarks about where she was at the point when she first walked into my office.

Her progress has been slow but steady – and today, she finds herself at a much better place even within the context of having to deal with life’s complications. Her surprise about the longevity of this therapeutic relationship was easily and comfortably balanced by the pleasant feeling of well-being.

This interaction reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend of mine, an ophthalmologist who once asked me a related question: Why is it that people have been coming to see me for decades and I have not been able to “fix” them? Does that make me feel badly?

I clearly remember my response, which started in more of a defensive mode but ended with some self-reflection. I reminded him that, in his specialty, like many other fields of medicine, we don’t get to “fix” a lot. In fact, the majority of the conditions we deal with are chronic and lingering.

However, during the process of reminding him to look in the mirror, I was also able to articulate that many of these patients came into my office in potentially dire situations, including experiencing severe depression and suicidal thoughts, ignoring basic needs such as hygiene, feeling paralyzed with panic attacks, or having complete inability to deal with day-to-day situations.

Decades later, many of these patients, while still struggling with some ongoing issues, appeared to be alive and well – and we have wonderful interactions in our office where I get to talk to them about exciting things they’re looking forward to doing with their families or for themselves. Similar analogies can be applied to almost all medical specialties. An endocrinologist might help a patient with severe diabetes or hypothyroid disease get the illness under control but is not able to fix the problem. Clearly, patients’ quality of life improves tremendously through treatment with medications and with education about lifestyle changes, such as exercise and diet.

Even in the case of surgeons who may successfully remove the problem tissue or tumor, the patient is not in fact “fixed” and still requires ongoing medical care, psychosocial interventions, and pharmacotherapy to maintain or improve upon quality of life.

My patient’s remarks led to a similar, delightful therapeutic session reflecting on her progress and what it meant to both of us. We physicians certainly find it very frustrating that we are unable to fix things and make people feel completely better. However, it is important to reflect on the difference our contribution to the process of healing makes for our patients and the impact it has on their quality of life – which is meaningful to them, however small it may be.

Even in the most severe medical or psychiatric cases, we can provide hope and encouragement, which could lead to minimal or no improvement in the pathological condition but may in fact improve patients’ outlook and willingness to carry on with dignity and satisfaction. It could do us all a lot of good to think of ourselves as healers – not fixers.
 

Dr. Awan, a psychiatrist, is medical director of Pennsylvania Counseling Services in Reading. He disclosed no conflicts of interest.

Recently, a patient excitedly told me during her session that she had been coming to see me for about 24 years. This was followed by positive remarks about where she was at the point when she first walked into my office.

Her progress has been slow but steady – and today, she finds herself at a much better place even within the context of having to deal with life’s complications. Her surprise about the longevity of this therapeutic relationship was easily and comfortably balanced by the pleasant feeling of well-being.

This interaction reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend of mine, an ophthalmologist who once asked me a related question: Why is it that people have been coming to see me for decades and I have not been able to “fix” them? Does that make me feel badly?

I clearly remember my response, which started in more of a defensive mode but ended with some self-reflection. I reminded him that, in his specialty, like many other fields of medicine, we don’t get to “fix” a lot. In fact, the majority of the conditions we deal with are chronic and lingering.

However, during the process of reminding him to look in the mirror, I was also able to articulate that many of these patients came into my office in potentially dire situations, including experiencing severe depression and suicidal thoughts, ignoring basic needs such as hygiene, feeling paralyzed with panic attacks, or having complete inability to deal with day-to-day situations.

Decades later, many of these patients, while still struggling with some ongoing issues, appeared to be alive and well – and we have wonderful interactions in our office where I get to talk to them about exciting things they’re looking forward to doing with their families or for themselves. Similar analogies can be applied to almost all medical specialties. An endocrinologist might help a patient with severe diabetes or hypothyroid disease get the illness under control but is not able to fix the problem. Clearly, patients’ quality of life improves tremendously through treatment with medications and with education about lifestyle changes, such as exercise and diet.

Even in the case of surgeons who may successfully remove the problem tissue or tumor, the patient is not in fact “fixed” and still requires ongoing medical care, psychosocial interventions, and pharmacotherapy to maintain or improve upon quality of life.

My patient’s remarks led to a similar, delightful therapeutic session reflecting on her progress and what it meant to both of us. We physicians certainly find it very frustrating that we are unable to fix things and make people feel completely better. However, it is important to reflect on the difference our contribution to the process of healing makes for our patients and the impact it has on their quality of life – which is meaningful to them, however small it may be.

Even in the most severe medical or psychiatric cases, we can provide hope and encouragement, which could lead to minimal or no improvement in the pathological condition but may in fact improve patients’ outlook and willingness to carry on with dignity and satisfaction. It could do us all a lot of good to think of ourselves as healers – not fixers.
 

Dr. Awan, a psychiatrist, is medical director of Pennsylvania Counseling Services in Reading. He disclosed no conflicts of interest.

Words matter. So, hear me when I say: I am Asian. I am American. I am a woman. I am not COVID-19. I did not create this virus. I did not place it in my pocket and bring it to the world, sprinkling it like pixie dust, along each path I’ve crossed.

My words create a story, and not just those of one psychiatrist reaching out to others. It’s the story of how the powerful use of words throughout my life inflicted racism upon me, even when unacknowledged by my conscious self. I share my story to let you know you are not alone in your journey of unwinding the cumulative systemic racist words and actions that might have affected your self-identification and self-love. I hope you channel that renewed sense of discovery to empower you to use your own words to create a positive impact for yourself and others – whether it is for your patients, friends, or community.

Currently, I serve as a physician and an advocate. I lead telehealth and developed software that screens for suicide risk (with support of a digital health grant). I also joined friends to develop a by-clinician, for-clinician telemental health platform.

Outside of my Hippocratic Oath, my mission, at its core, was to destigmatize mental illness through cultivating thoughtful conversations. But I am also so much more; aren’t we all? I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, and an American. I am working hard to create a life I love – the embodiment of the American Dream. If you meet me face to face, no curriculum vitae, no email, I’m Vietnamese. However, I am not the color of my skin or the shape of my eyes. I am no more defined by my lingering Vietnamese accent than I am by its Texan counterpart. Yet, throughout my life, my Vietnamese ethnicity has been a marker that others have used to define and objectify me.
 

Trauma emerges on national stage

I never thought it would happen to me, but as a resident physician, one of my most traumatic experiences of abusive power was when Donald Trump was running for president in 2016. He was using words and rhetoric that objectified women by classifying and quantifying their “attractiveness.” This culminated in a scandal surrounding a recording in which he said he would grab women by the $%&#@ ... and had been allowed to do so because he was a celebrity. That episode affected me profoundly, maybe more than most. As a child and adolescent psychiatrist, I knew the impact those words could have on future generations, and, as a woman and an aunt, I was appalled. But then, the effect turned to assault. Words matter.

I was living in New York City and as I made my nightly walk home on the Upper East Side, a man followed me. When I walked up the stairs to my building, he actually grabbed me ... by the $%&#@. He did this with the same casual manner that one might greet a coworker with a high-five. He then turned and walked away, laughing. I was overcome with shock; shocked that I could be so violated and yet thankful that he hadn’t taken any more aggressive liberties. He didn’t run away. He walked out as calmly as he had walked in, despite violating a most private piece of my femininity. And he laughed. As much as it jilted me, angered me, and made me feel demeaned and less-than, I know it’s a blessing that the story ended there; so often attacks against women end so much worse.

I questioned: “Why?” Why would this man do this to me? To anyone? I don’t know the answer, but I do know this: The things we normalize through the words we hear in the world, on the news, and at our dinner tables become action. It happened. This man didn’t skulk off into the alleyway. He didn’t hide. He laughed because he felt entitled. That’s because words matter.

My journey is paved with words that mattered. I was born in Vietnam; my family legally immigrated to the United States when I was 5 years old. Throughout grade school, I began to realize the power of spoken words, especially when I was frequently told to go back to where I came from. Questions flew at me like bullets, and whether innocent or borne of curiosity, were hurtful reminders that, through no choice of my own, I was an unwelcome foreigner. “Where are you from?” ... “No, where are you really, really from?” I felt eyes peering through me when my mother packed for me our culture’s traditional foods for lunch. “Ew, what’s that?” ... “That’s gross it smells.” How I longed for the cloak of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and blonde hair.

As I approached high school, college, and postgraduate work, the “where are you from?” questions didn’t stop but took on a new connotation, as if I were some exotic pet that men had seen walking down the street. “Ooh, what is that?” While history is riddled with the objectification of women, rarely would any woman expect to have a stranger approach her and objectify her with a statement such as: “I only date girls with breast implants.” For Asian women, however, experiencing verbal objectification has become the norm. Each approach I faced was followed by a story about Asian girlfriends of their past and a request for my phone number that felt more like a demand.

What these men probably meant as flirtation, I internalized as inescapable concerns of whether or not they had true desire to get to know me as a person. I became used to unsolicited words and attention from men who objectified me as an exotic fetish. I tried to pretend it was okay, but why? Objectifying Asian women is racism. Their words remind me, and I still hear them, that America has a long history of hypersexualizing Asian women. These words – at their core – dehumanize Asian women, and as we have seen, lead to violence.

Over the past few weeks, there’s been discourse about the mass shooting in Atlanta. We need to pause and remember that the victims, like us, were human. These women killed in Atlanta had husbands, children, siblings, parents, and communities that they were taken away from, senselessly, based solely on their outward appearance. Whether or not this act was perpetrated by someone with a sexual addiction doesn’t matter. What happened is rooted in the systemic racism that has stereotyped Asian women as sexual objects. The perpetrator targeted a group of people because of the systemic racism ingrained in him, plain and simple.

Everybody, no matter how evolved one’s thinking, is influenced by words. You don’t have to have mental illness or malicious intent to fall for propaganda – that’s what makes it so scary, it works so well. Even among my own friends and family, some of the most compassionate people I know, I’ve heard disparaging remarks against Chinese people, from other Asians, repeating the same rhetoric they’ve seen in American newspapers and Asian media outlets, echoing the former president’s coronavirus references to the “Chinese virus.”

But what makes something systemic? What feeds this virus of hate and gives these practices their longevity? Pointing out problems doesn’t make them go away; we have to cultivate conversation based around solutions. And that’s our next step. What can we do to make a positive impact?

Words have affected my life, and my words have given me power. I encourage others to engage in activities where they too can feel empowered. Since the beginning of the pandemic, I’ve leveraged my leadership position with the American Psychiatric Association’s Caucus of Asian American Psychiatrists and used my words to promote advocacy. I’ve also used my voice to raise national attention to the anti-Asian hate activities. Motivated by my own desire to seek a supportive space with others to reflect on our racial identities, I’ve also launched various free support groups for Asian American and Pacific Islanders (AAPI) professionals and health care providers. I want to feel a sense of connection with others who share my experiences, as I never underestimate the phenomenal force of comforting words from a healing community.

Clinicians need their own space for processing, too. It is vitally important for us to take care of ourselves, because our patients’ words can affect our own mental health. My colleagues are shocked by the amount of AAPI patients who are reaching out to them for care. Most of them have not worked with AAPI patients before, because so many people of AAPI descent do not often seek treatment. Many of our patients are dealing with anxiety surrounding their own health and wellness, coupled with financial uncertainties and social unrest. In particular, AAPI clinicians may start to experience bystander trauma, because, for the first time, they are thinking: “It could have been me.” AAPI clinicians are in a unique situation where they have the extra burden of providing a safe space for processing clients’ trauma while also processing their own. We may have experiences of discrimination or racially motivated assaults and can reexperience this trauma through our work. Before we can help others, we have to do a self-check and reflect on how we are doing and seek our own support.

If you are able to take care of yourself and feel empowered to make a difference, there are many ways to help fight against anti-Asian sentiment, both on a personal and more global scale.

We have to check our biases and those of our family, friends, and colleagues. Everyone, even mental health professionals, has biases and is affected by disinformation. We have to dig deep into our own unconscious biases, reflect on them, and commit to changing the biases around us. Do we, or our families, have unconscious biases against a particular minority group? If so, discuss it. No one is to blame. This is systemic, and no one is at fault. White men are not to be vilified. Conservative Republicans are not our enemy. Each of us is human, with our own flaws that can influence our own conscious and unconscious thoughts and actions. Let’s discuss racial issues with our family and friends. Whenever someone says something hateful or discriminatory toward another ethnic group or racial background, we have to call it out, and help them realize their biases and change them.

If you are able, use your words to write to your elected representatives. Send them a short email, no need to be fancy. For example, you can send a note of support for legislation that is similar to the COVID-19 Hate Crimes Act, which passed the Senate on Thursday, April 22, with 94:1 bipartisan support. This kind of legislation is a step in the right direction, but there is still more we must do to stop anti-Asian biases and hate. There is empowerment and healing through making your own voice heard. I hope that these tragic incidents will lead to impactful policy changes.

The next step in this journey of empowerment is speaking about your lived experiences publicly and promoting the voices of others. I dedicated a section of my social media platforms to amplifying Asian voices, sharing news, and updating my hashtags to support the #StopAsianHate movement. I made it a point to form relationships with other advocates, AAPI mental health professionals and those personally affected by anti-Asian hate. Speaking up and speaking out didn’t take away my worries, but it did remind me that I’m powerful and that I am not alone. I can take action and demand action. I do not have to hide in the shadows but can stand in the light, using my voice like a megaphone to call out injustice and intolerance.

I hope that, for AAPI clinicians who may be affected by these current events, this validates your experiences. You are not alone. This is a reminder to treat yourself with empathy as you would your patients. For others, I hope this helps you to learn the plight of many AAPI community members in this country. Together, we can use words to create better neighborhoods, a better country, and safe spaces for all communities, especially the marginalized. As we know, words matter.

Dr. Vo is a board-certified psychiatrist and is the medical director of telehealth for the department of child and adolescent psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. She is also a faculty member at the University of Pennsylvania, also in Philadelphia. Dr. Vo conducts digital health research focused on using automation and artificial intelligence for suicide risk screening and connecting patients to mental health care services. She disclosed serving as cofounder of telemental health software, Orchid, that eliminates burdensome administrative tasks so that clinicians can focus on their patients and have time for their loved ones.
 

Words matter. So, hear me when I say: I am Asian. I am American. I am a woman. I am not COVID-19. I did not create this virus. I did not place it in my pocket and bring it to the world, sprinkling it like pixie dust, along each path I’ve crossed.

My words create a story, and not just those of one psychiatrist reaching out to others. It’s the story of how the powerful use of words throughout my life inflicted racism upon me, even when unacknowledged by my conscious self. I share my story to let you know you are not alone in your journey of unwinding the cumulative systemic racist words and actions that might have affected your self-identification and self-love. I hope you channel that renewed sense of discovery to empower you to use your own words to create a positive impact for yourself and others – whether it is for your patients, friends, or community.

Currently, I serve as a physician and an advocate. I lead telehealth and developed software that screens for suicide risk (with support of a digital health grant). I also joined friends to develop a by-clinician, for-clinician telemental health platform.

Outside of my Hippocratic Oath, my mission, at its core, was to destigmatize mental illness through cultivating thoughtful conversations. But I am also so much more; aren’t we all? I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, and an American. I am working hard to create a life I love – the embodiment of the American Dream. If you meet me face to face, no curriculum vitae, no email, I’m Vietnamese. However, I am not the color of my skin or the shape of my eyes. I am no more defined by my lingering Vietnamese accent than I am by its Texan counterpart. Yet, throughout my life, my Vietnamese ethnicity has been a marker that others have used to define and objectify me.
 

Trauma emerges on national stage

I never thought it would happen to me, but as a resident physician, one of my most traumatic experiences of abusive power was when Donald Trump was running for president in 2016. He was using words and rhetoric that objectified women by classifying and quantifying their “attractiveness.” This culminated in a scandal surrounding a recording in which he said he would grab women by the $%&#@ ... and had been allowed to do so because he was a celebrity. That episode affected me profoundly, maybe more than most. As a child and adolescent psychiatrist, I knew the impact those words could have on future generations, and, as a woman and an aunt, I was appalled. But then, the effect turned to assault. Words matter.

I was living in New York City and as I made my nightly walk home on the Upper East Side, a man followed me. When I walked up the stairs to my building, he actually grabbed me ... by the $%&#@. He did this with the same casual manner that one might greet a coworker with a high-five. He then turned and walked away, laughing. I was overcome with shock; shocked that I could be so violated and yet thankful that he hadn’t taken any more aggressive liberties. He didn’t run away. He walked out as calmly as he had walked in, despite violating a most private piece of my femininity. And he laughed. As much as it jilted me, angered me, and made me feel demeaned and less-than, I know it’s a blessing that the story ended there; so often attacks against women end so much worse.

I questioned: “Why?” Why would this man do this to me? To anyone? I don’t know the answer, but I do know this: The things we normalize through the words we hear in the world, on the news, and at our dinner tables become action. It happened. This man didn’t skulk off into the alleyway. He didn’t hide. He laughed because he felt entitled. That’s because words matter.

My journey is paved with words that mattered. I was born in Vietnam; my family legally immigrated to the United States when I was 5 years old. Throughout grade school, I began to realize the power of spoken words, especially when I was frequently told to go back to where I came from. Questions flew at me like bullets, and whether innocent or borne of curiosity, were hurtful reminders that, through no choice of my own, I was an unwelcome foreigner. “Where are you from?” ... “No, where are you really, really from?” I felt eyes peering through me when my mother packed for me our culture’s traditional foods for lunch. “Ew, what’s that?” ... “That’s gross it smells.” How I longed for the cloak of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and blonde hair.

As I approached high school, college, and postgraduate work, the “where are you from?” questions didn’t stop but took on a new connotation, as if I were some exotic pet that men had seen walking down the street. “Ooh, what is that?” While history is riddled with the objectification of women, rarely would any woman expect to have a stranger approach her and objectify her with a statement such as: “I only date girls with breast implants.” For Asian women, however, experiencing verbal objectification has become the norm. Each approach I faced was followed by a story about Asian girlfriends of their past and a request for my phone number that felt more like a demand.

What these men probably meant as flirtation, I internalized as inescapable concerns of whether or not they had true desire to get to know me as a person. I became used to unsolicited words and attention from men who objectified me as an exotic fetish. I tried to pretend it was okay, but why? Objectifying Asian women is racism. Their words remind me, and I still hear them, that America has a long history of hypersexualizing Asian women. These words – at their core – dehumanize Asian women, and as we have seen, lead to violence.

Over the past few weeks, there’s been discourse about the mass shooting in Atlanta. We need to pause and remember that the victims, like us, were human. These women killed in Atlanta had husbands, children, siblings, parents, and communities that they were taken away from, senselessly, based solely on their outward appearance. Whether or not this act was perpetrated by someone with a sexual addiction doesn’t matter. What happened is rooted in the systemic racism that has stereotyped Asian women as sexual objects. The perpetrator targeted a group of people because of the systemic racism ingrained in him, plain and simple.

Everybody, no matter how evolved one’s thinking, is influenced by words. You don’t have to have mental illness or malicious intent to fall for propaganda – that’s what makes it so scary, it works so well. Even among my own friends and family, some of the most compassionate people I know, I’ve heard disparaging remarks against Chinese people, from other Asians, repeating the same rhetoric they’ve seen in American newspapers and Asian media outlets, echoing the former president’s coronavirus references to the “Chinese virus.”

But what makes something systemic? What feeds this virus of hate and gives these practices their longevity? Pointing out problems doesn’t make them go away; we have to cultivate conversation based around solutions. And that’s our next step. What can we do to make a positive impact?

Words have affected my life, and my words have given me power. I encourage others to engage in activities where they too can feel empowered. Since the beginning of the pandemic, I’ve leveraged my leadership position with the American Psychiatric Association’s Caucus of Asian American Psychiatrists and used my words to promote advocacy. I’ve also used my voice to raise national attention to the anti-Asian hate activities. Motivated by my own desire to seek a supportive space with others to reflect on our racial identities, I’ve also launched various free support groups for Asian American and Pacific Islanders (AAPI) professionals and health care providers. I want to feel a sense of connection with others who share my experiences, as I never underestimate the phenomenal force of comforting words from a healing community.

Clinicians need their own space for processing, too. It is vitally important for us to take care of ourselves, because our patients’ words can affect our own mental health. My colleagues are shocked by the amount of AAPI patients who are reaching out to them for care. Most of them have not worked with AAPI patients before, because so many people of AAPI descent do not often seek treatment. Many of our patients are dealing with anxiety surrounding their own health and wellness, coupled with financial uncertainties and social unrest. In particular, AAPI clinicians may start to experience bystander trauma, because, for the first time, they are thinking: “It could have been me.” AAPI clinicians are in a unique situation where they have the extra burden of providing a safe space for processing clients’ trauma while also processing their own. We may have experiences of discrimination or racially motivated assaults and can reexperience this trauma through our work. Before we can help others, we have to do a self-check and reflect on how we are doing and seek our own support.

If you are able to take care of yourself and feel empowered to make a difference, there are many ways to help fight against anti-Asian sentiment, both on a personal and more global scale.

We have to check our biases and those of our family, friends, and colleagues. Everyone, even mental health professionals, has biases and is affected by disinformation. We have to dig deep into our own unconscious biases, reflect on them, and commit to changing the biases around us. Do we, or our families, have unconscious biases against a particular minority group? If so, discuss it. No one is to blame. This is systemic, and no one is at fault. White men are not to be vilified. Conservative Republicans are not our enemy. Each of us is human, with our own flaws that can influence our own conscious and unconscious thoughts and actions. Let’s discuss racial issues with our family and friends. Whenever someone says something hateful or discriminatory toward another ethnic group or racial background, we have to call it out, and help them realize their biases and change them.

If you are able, use your words to write to your elected representatives. Send them a short email, no need to be fancy. For example, you can send a note of support for legislation that is similar to the COVID-19 Hate Crimes Act, which passed the Senate on Thursday, April 22, with 94:1 bipartisan support. This kind of legislation is a step in the right direction, but there is still more we must do to stop anti-Asian biases and hate. There is empowerment and healing through making your own voice heard. I hope that these tragic incidents will lead to impactful policy changes.

The next step in this journey of empowerment is speaking about your lived experiences publicly and promoting the voices of others. I dedicated a section of my social media platforms to amplifying Asian voices, sharing news, and updating my hashtags to support the #StopAsianHate movement. I made it a point to form relationships with other advocates, AAPI mental health professionals and those personally affected by anti-Asian hate. Speaking up and speaking out didn’t take away my worries, but it did remind me that I’m powerful and that I am not alone. I can take action and demand action. I do not have to hide in the shadows but can stand in the light, using my voice like a megaphone to call out injustice and intolerance.

I hope that, for AAPI clinicians who may be affected by these current events, this validates your experiences. You are not alone. This is a reminder to treat yourself with empathy as you would your patients. For others, I hope this helps you to learn the plight of many AAPI community members in this country. Together, we can use words to create better neighborhoods, a better country, and safe spaces for all communities, especially the marginalized. As we know, words matter.

Dr. Vo is a board-certified psychiatrist and is the medical director of telehealth for the department of child and adolescent psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. She is also a faculty member at the University of Pennsylvania, also in Philadelphia. Dr. Vo conducts digital health research focused on using automation and artificial intelligence for suicide risk screening and connecting patients to mental health care services. She disclosed serving as cofounder of telemental health software, Orchid, that eliminates burdensome administrative tasks so that clinicians can focus on their patients and have time for their loved ones.
 

Words matter. So, hear me when I say: I am Asian. I am American. I am a woman. I am not COVID-19. I did not create this virus. I did not place it in my pocket and bring it to the world, sprinkling it like pixie dust, along each path I’ve crossed.

My words create a story, and not just those of one psychiatrist reaching out to others. It’s the story of how the powerful use of words throughout my life inflicted racism upon me, even when unacknowledged by my conscious self. I share my story to let you know you are not alone in your journey of unwinding the cumulative systemic racist words and actions that might have affected your self-identification and self-love. I hope you channel that renewed sense of discovery to empower you to use your own words to create a positive impact for yourself and others – whether it is for your patients, friends, or community.

Currently, I serve as a physician and an advocate. I lead telehealth and developed software that screens for suicide risk (with support of a digital health grant). I also joined friends to develop a by-clinician, for-clinician telemental health platform.

Outside of my Hippocratic Oath, my mission, at its core, was to destigmatize mental illness through cultivating thoughtful conversations. But I am also so much more; aren’t we all? I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a friend, and an American. I am working hard to create a life I love – the embodiment of the American Dream. If you meet me face to face, no curriculum vitae, no email, I’m Vietnamese. However, I am not the color of my skin or the shape of my eyes. I am no more defined by my lingering Vietnamese accent than I am by its Texan counterpart. Yet, throughout my life, my Vietnamese ethnicity has been a marker that others have used to define and objectify me.
 

Trauma emerges on national stage

I never thought it would happen to me, but as a resident physician, one of my most traumatic experiences of abusive power was when Donald Trump was running for president in 2016. He was using words and rhetoric that objectified women by classifying and quantifying their “attractiveness.” This culminated in a scandal surrounding a recording in which he said he would grab women by the $%&#@ ... and had been allowed to do so because he was a celebrity. That episode affected me profoundly, maybe more than most. As a child and adolescent psychiatrist, I knew the impact those words could have on future generations, and, as a woman and an aunt, I was appalled. But then, the effect turned to assault. Words matter.

I was living in New York City and as I made my nightly walk home on the Upper East Side, a man followed me. When I walked up the stairs to my building, he actually grabbed me ... by the $%&#@. He did this with the same casual manner that one might greet a coworker with a high-five. He then turned and walked away, laughing. I was overcome with shock; shocked that I could be so violated and yet thankful that he hadn’t taken any more aggressive liberties. He didn’t run away. He walked out as calmly as he had walked in, despite violating a most private piece of my femininity. And he laughed. As much as it jilted me, angered me, and made me feel demeaned and less-than, I know it’s a blessing that the story ended there; so often attacks against women end so much worse.

I questioned: “Why?” Why would this man do this to me? To anyone? I don’t know the answer, but I do know this: The things we normalize through the words we hear in the world, on the news, and at our dinner tables become action. It happened. This man didn’t skulk off into the alleyway. He didn’t hide. He laughed because he felt entitled. That’s because words matter.

My journey is paved with words that mattered. I was born in Vietnam; my family legally immigrated to the United States when I was 5 years old. Throughout grade school, I began to realize the power of spoken words, especially when I was frequently told to go back to where I came from. Questions flew at me like bullets, and whether innocent or borne of curiosity, were hurtful reminders that, through no choice of my own, I was an unwelcome foreigner. “Where are you from?” ... “No, where are you really, really from?” I felt eyes peering through me when my mother packed for me our culture’s traditional foods for lunch. “Ew, what’s that?” ... “That’s gross it smells.” How I longed for the cloak of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and blonde hair.

As I approached high school, college, and postgraduate work, the “where are you from?” questions didn’t stop but took on a new connotation, as if I were some exotic pet that men had seen walking down the street. “Ooh, what is that?” While history is riddled with the objectification of women, rarely would any woman expect to have a stranger approach her and objectify her with a statement such as: “I only date girls with breast implants.” For Asian women, however, experiencing verbal objectification has become the norm. Each approach I faced was followed by a story about Asian girlfriends of their past and a request for my phone number that felt more like a demand.

What these men probably meant as flirtation, I internalized as inescapable concerns of whether or not they had true desire to get to know me as a person. I became used to unsolicited words and attention from men who objectified me as an exotic fetish. I tried to pretend it was okay, but why? Objectifying Asian women is racism. Their words remind me, and I still hear them, that America has a long history of hypersexualizing Asian women. These words – at their core – dehumanize Asian women, and as we have seen, lead to violence.

Over the past few weeks, there’s been discourse about the mass shooting in Atlanta. We need to pause and remember that the victims, like us, were human. These women killed in Atlanta had husbands, children, siblings, parents, and communities that they were taken away from, senselessly, based solely on their outward appearance. Whether or not this act was perpetrated by someone with a sexual addiction doesn’t matter. What happened is rooted in the systemic racism that has stereotyped Asian women as sexual objects. The perpetrator targeted a group of people because of the systemic racism ingrained in him, plain and simple.

Everybody, no matter how evolved one’s thinking, is influenced by words. You don’t have to have mental illness or malicious intent to fall for propaganda – that’s what makes it so scary, it works so well. Even among my own friends and family, some of the most compassionate people I know, I’ve heard disparaging remarks against Chinese people, from other Asians, repeating the same rhetoric they’ve seen in American newspapers and Asian media outlets, echoing the former president’s coronavirus references to the “Chinese virus.”

But what makes something systemic? What feeds this virus of hate and gives these practices their longevity? Pointing out problems doesn’t make them go away; we have to cultivate conversation based around solutions. And that’s our next step. What can we do to make a positive impact?

Words have affected my life, and my words have given me power. I encourage others to engage in activities where they too can feel empowered. Since the beginning of the pandemic, I’ve leveraged my leadership position with the American Psychiatric Association’s Caucus of Asian American Psychiatrists and used my words to promote advocacy. I’ve also used my voice to raise national attention to the anti-Asian hate activities. Motivated by my own desire to seek a supportive space with others to reflect on our racial identities, I’ve also launched various free support groups for Asian American and Pacific Islanders (AAPI) professionals and health care providers. I want to feel a sense of connection with others who share my experiences, as I never underestimate the phenomenal force of comforting words from a healing community.

Clinicians need their own space for processing, too. It is vitally important for us to take care of ourselves, because our patients’ words can affect our own mental health. My colleagues are shocked by the amount of AAPI patients who are reaching out to them for care. Most of them have not worked with AAPI patients before, because so many people of AAPI descent do not often seek treatment. Many of our patients are dealing with anxiety surrounding their own health and wellness, coupled with financial uncertainties and social unrest. In particular, AAPI clinicians may start to experience bystander trauma, because, for the first time, they are thinking: “It could have been me.” AAPI clinicians are in a unique situation where they have the extra burden of providing a safe space for processing clients’ trauma while also processing their own. We may have experiences of discrimination or racially motivated assaults and can reexperience this trauma through our work. Before we can help others, we have to do a self-check and reflect on how we are doing and seek our own support.

If you are able to take care of yourself and feel empowered to make a difference, there are many ways to help fight against anti-Asian sentiment, both on a personal and more global scale.

We have to check our biases and those of our family, friends, and colleagues. Everyone, even mental health professionals, has biases and is affected by disinformation. We have to dig deep into our own unconscious biases, reflect on them, and commit to changing the biases around us. Do we, or our families, have unconscious biases against a particular minority group? If so, discuss it. No one is to blame. This is systemic, and no one is at fault. White men are not to be vilified. Conservative Republicans are not our enemy. Each of us is human, with our own flaws that can influence our own conscious and unconscious thoughts and actions. Let’s discuss racial issues with our family and friends. Whenever someone says something hateful or discriminatory toward another ethnic group or racial background, we have to call it out, and help them realize their biases and change them.

If you are able, use your words to write to your elected representatives. Send them a short email, no need to be fancy. For example, you can send a note of support for legislation that is similar to the COVID-19 Hate Crimes Act, which passed the Senate on Thursday, April 22, with 94:1 bipartisan support. This kind of legislation is a step in the right direction, but there is still more we must do to stop anti-Asian biases and hate. There is empowerment and healing through making your own voice heard. I hope that these tragic incidents will lead to impactful policy changes.

The next step in this journey of empowerment is speaking about your lived experiences publicly and promoting the voices of others. I dedicated a section of my social media platforms to amplifying Asian voices, sharing news, and updating my hashtags to support the #StopAsianHate movement. I made it a point to form relationships with other advocates, AAPI mental health professionals and those personally affected by anti-Asian hate. Speaking up and speaking out didn’t take away my worries, but it did remind me that I’m powerful and that I am not alone. I can take action and demand action. I do not have to hide in the shadows but can stand in the light, using my voice like a megaphone to call out injustice and intolerance.

I hope that, for AAPI clinicians who may be affected by these current events, this validates your experiences. You are not alone. This is a reminder to treat yourself with empathy as you would your patients. For others, I hope this helps you to learn the plight of many AAPI community members in this country. Together, we can use words to create better neighborhoods, a better country, and safe spaces for all communities, especially the marginalized. As we know, words matter.

Dr. Vo is a board-certified psychiatrist and is the medical director of telehealth for the department of child and adolescent psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. She is also a faculty member at the University of Pennsylvania, also in Philadelphia. Dr. Vo conducts digital health research focused on using automation and artificial intelligence for suicide risk screening and connecting patients to mental health care services. She disclosed serving as cofounder of telemental health software, Orchid, that eliminates burdensome administrative tasks so that clinicians can focus on their patients and have time for their loved ones.
 

Concern and anxiety around COVID-19 remains high among Americans, with more people reporting mental health effects from the pandemic this year than last, and parents concerned about the mental health of their children, results of a new poll by the American Psychiatric Association show. Although the overall level of anxiety has decreased from last year’s APA poll, “the degree to which anxiety still reigns is concerning,” APA President Jeffrey Geller, MD, MPH, told this news organization.

The results of the latest poll were presented at the American Psychiatric Association 2021 annual meeting and based on an online survey conducted March 26 to April 5 among a sample of 1,000 adults aged 18 years or older.

Serious mental health hit

In the new poll, about 4 in 10 Americans (41%) report they are more anxious than last year, down from just over 60%.

Young adults aged 18-29 years (49%) and Hispanic/Latinos (50%) are more likely to report being more anxious now than a year ago. Those 65 or older (30%) are less apt to say they feel more anxious than last year.

The latest poll also shows that Americans are more anxious about family and loved ones getting COVID-19 (64%) than about catching the virus themselves (49%). 

Concern about family and loved ones contracting COVID-19 has increased since last year’s poll (conducted September 2020), rising from 56% then to 64% now. Hispanic/Latinx individuals (73%) and African American/Black individuals (76%) are more anxious about COVID-19 than White people (59%).

In the new poll, 43% of adults report the pandemic has had a serious impact on their mental health, up from 37% in 2020. Younger adults are more apt than older adults to report serious mental health effects.

Slightly fewer Americans report the pandemic is affecting their day-to-day life now as compared to a year ago, in ways such as problems sleeping (19% down from 22%), difficulty concentrating (18% down from 20%), and fighting more with loved ones (16% down from 17%).

The percentage of adults consuming more alcohol or other substances/drugs than normal increased slightly since last year (14%-17%). Additionally, 33% of adults (40% of women) report gaining weight during the pandemic.

Call to action

More than half of adults (53%) with children report they are concerned about the mental state of their children and almost half (48%) report the pandemic has caused mental health problems for one or more of their children, including minor problems for 29% and major problems for 19%.

More than a quarter (26%) of parents have sought professional mental health help for their children because of the pandemic.

Nearly half (49%) of parents of children younger than 18 years say their child received help from a mental health professional since the start of the pandemic; 23% received help from a primary care professional, 18% from a psychiatrist, 15% from a psychologist, 13% from a therapist, 10% from a social worker, and 10% from a school counselor or school psychologist.

More than 1 in 5 parents reported difficulty scheduling appointments for their child with a mental health professional.

“This poll shows that, even as vaccines become more widespread, Americans are still worried about the mental state of their children,” Dr. Geller said in a news release.

“This is a call to action for policymakers, who need to remember that, in our COVID-19 recovery, there’s no health without mental health,” he added.

Just over three-quarters (76%) of those surveyed say they have been or intend to get vaccinated; 22% say they don’t intend to get vaccinated; and 2% didn’t know.

For those who do not intend to get vaccinated, the primary concern (53%) is about side effects of the vaccine. Other reasons for not getting vaccinated include believing the vaccine is not effective (31%), believing the makers of the vaccine aren’t being honest about what’s in it (27%), and fear/anxiety about needles (12%).

Resiliency a finite resource

Reached for comment, Samoon Ahmad, MD, professor in the department of psychiatry, New York University, said it’s not surprising that Americans are still suffering more anxiety than normal.

“The Census Bureau’s Household Pulse Survey has shown that anxiety and depression levels have remained higher than normal since the pandemic began. That 43% of adults now say that the pandemic has had a serious impact on their mental health seems in line with what that survey has been reporting for over a year,” Dr. Ahmad, who serves as unit chief of inpatient psychiatry at Bellevue Hospital Center in New York, said in an interview.

He believes there are several reasons why anxiety levels remain high. One reason is something he’s noticed among his patients for years. “Most people struggle with anxiety especially at night when the noise and distractions of contemporary life fade away. This is the time of introspection,” he explained.

“Quarantine has been kind of like a protracted night because the distractions that are common in the so-called ‘rat race’ have been relatively muted for the past 14 months. I believe this has caused what you might call ‘forced introspection,’ and that this is giving rise to feelings of anxiety as people use their time alone to reassess their careers and their social lives and really begin to fret about some of the decisions that have led them to this point in their lives,” said Dr. Ahmad.

The other finding in the APA survey – that people are more concerned about their loved ones catching the virus than they were a year ago – is also not surprising, Dr. Ahmad said.

“Even though we seem to have turned a corner in the United States and the worst of the pandemic is behind us, the surge that went from roughly November through March of this year was more wide-reaching geographically than previous waves, and I think this made the severity of the virus far more real to people who lived in communities that had been spared severe outbreaks during the surges that we saw in the spring and summer of 2020,” Dr. Ahmad told this news organization.

“There’s also heightened concern over variants and the efficacy of the vaccine in treating these variants. Those who have families in other countries where the virus is surging, such as India or parts of Latin America, are likely experiencing additional stress and anxiety too,” he noted.

While the new APA poll findings are not surprising, they still are “deeply concerning,” Dr. Ahmad said.

“Resiliency is a finite resource, and people can only take so much stress before their mental health begins to suffer. For most people, this is not going to lead to some kind of overdramatic nervous breakdown. Instead, one may notice that they are more irritable than they once were, that they’re not sleeping particularly well, or that they have a nagging sense of discomfort and stress when doing activities that they used to think of as normal,” like taking a trip to the grocery store, meeting up with friends, or going to work, Dr. Ahmad said.

“Overcoming this kind of anxiety and reacclimating ourselves to social situations is going to take more time for some people than others, and that is perfectly natural,” said Dr. Ahmad, founder of the Integrative Center for Wellness in New York.

“I don’t think it’s wise to try to put a limit on what constitutes a normal amount of time to readjust, and I think everyone in the field of mental health needs to avoid pathologizing any lingering sense of unease. No one needs to be medicated or diagnosed with a mental illness because they are nervous about going into public spaces in the immediate aftermath of a pandemic. We need to show a lot of patience and encourage people to readjust at their own pace for the foreseeable future,” Dr. Ahmad said.

Dr. Geller and Dr. Ahmad have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Concern and anxiety around COVID-19 remains high among Americans, with more people reporting mental health effects from the pandemic this year than last, and parents concerned about the mental health of their children, results of a new poll by the American Psychiatric Association show. Although the overall level of anxiety has decreased from last year’s APA poll, “the degree to which anxiety still reigns is concerning,” APA President Jeffrey Geller, MD, MPH, told this news organization.

The results of the latest poll were presented at the American Psychiatric Association 2021 annual meeting and based on an online survey conducted March 26 to April 5 among a sample of 1,000 adults aged 18 years or older.

Serious mental health hit

In the new poll, about 4 in 10 Americans (41%) report they are more anxious than last year, down from just over 60%.

Young adults aged 18-29 years (49%) and Hispanic/Latinos (50%) are more likely to report being more anxious now than a year ago. Those 65 or older (30%) are less apt to say they feel more anxious than last year.

The latest poll also shows that Americans are more anxious about family and loved ones getting COVID-19 (64%) than about catching the virus themselves (49%). 

Concern about family and loved ones contracting COVID-19 has increased since last year’s poll (conducted September 2020), rising from 56% then to 64% now. Hispanic/Latinx individuals (73%) and African American/Black individuals (76%) are more anxious about COVID-19 than White people (59%).

In the new poll, 43% of adults report the pandemic has had a serious impact on their mental health, up from 37% in 2020. Younger adults are more apt than older adults to report serious mental health effects.

Slightly fewer Americans report the pandemic is affecting their day-to-day life now as compared to a year ago, in ways such as problems sleeping (19% down from 22%), difficulty concentrating (18% down from 20%), and fighting more with loved ones (16% down from 17%).

The percentage of adults consuming more alcohol or other substances/drugs than normal increased slightly since last year (14%-17%). Additionally, 33% of adults (40% of women) report gaining weight during the pandemic.

Call to action

More than half of adults (53%) with children report they are concerned about the mental state of their children and almost half (48%) report the pandemic has caused mental health problems for one or more of their children, including minor problems for 29% and major problems for 19%.

More than a quarter (26%) of parents have sought professional mental health help for their children because of the pandemic.

Nearly half (49%) of parents of children younger than 18 years say their child received help from a mental health professional since the start of the pandemic; 23% received help from a primary care professional, 18% from a psychiatrist, 15% from a psychologist, 13% from a therapist, 10% from a social worker, and 10% from a school counselor or school psychologist.

More than 1 in 5 parents reported difficulty scheduling appointments for their child with a mental health professional.

“This poll shows that, even as vaccines become more widespread, Americans are still worried about the mental state of their children,” Dr. Geller said in a news release.

“This is a call to action for policymakers, who need to remember that, in our COVID-19 recovery, there’s no health without mental health,” he added.

Just over three-quarters (76%) of those surveyed say they have been or intend to get vaccinated; 22% say they don’t intend to get vaccinated; and 2% didn’t know.

For those who do not intend to get vaccinated, the primary concern (53%) is about side effects of the vaccine. Other reasons for not getting vaccinated include believing the vaccine is not effective (31%), believing the makers of the vaccine aren’t being honest about what’s in it (27%), and fear/anxiety about needles (12%).

Resiliency a finite resource

Reached for comment, Samoon Ahmad, MD, professor in the department of psychiatry, New York University, said it’s not surprising that Americans are still suffering more anxiety than normal.

“The Census Bureau’s Household Pulse Survey has shown that anxiety and depression levels have remained higher than normal since the pandemic began. That 43% of adults now say that the pandemic has had a serious impact on their mental health seems in line with what that survey has been reporting for over a year,” Dr. Ahmad, who serves as unit chief of inpatient psychiatry at Bellevue Hospital Center in New York, said in an interview.

He believes there are several reasons why anxiety levels remain high. One reason is something he’s noticed among his patients for years. “Most people struggle with anxiety especially at night when the noise and distractions of contemporary life fade away. This is the time of introspection,” he explained.

“Quarantine has been kind of like a protracted night because the distractions that are common in the so-called ‘rat race’ have been relatively muted for the past 14 months. I believe this has caused what you might call ‘forced introspection,’ and that this is giving rise to feelings of anxiety as people use their time alone to reassess their careers and their social lives and really begin to fret about some of the decisions that have led them to this point in their lives,” said Dr. Ahmad.

The other finding in the APA survey – that people are more concerned about their loved ones catching the virus than they were a year ago – is also not surprising, Dr. Ahmad said.

“Even though we seem to have turned a corner in the United States and the worst of the pandemic is behind us, the surge that went from roughly November through March of this year was more wide-reaching geographically than previous waves, and I think this made the severity of the virus far more real to people who lived in communities that had been spared severe outbreaks during the surges that we saw in the spring and summer of 2020,” Dr. Ahmad told this news organization.

“There’s also heightened concern over variants and the efficacy of the vaccine in treating these variants. Those who have families in other countries where the virus is surging, such as India or parts of Latin America, are likely experiencing additional stress and anxiety too,” he noted.

While the new APA poll findings are not surprising, they still are “deeply concerning,” Dr. Ahmad said.

“Resiliency is a finite resource, and people can only take so much stress before their mental health begins to suffer. For most people, this is not going to lead to some kind of overdramatic nervous breakdown. Instead, one may notice that they are more irritable than they once were, that they’re not sleeping particularly well, or that they have a nagging sense of discomfort and stress when doing activities that they used to think of as normal,” like taking a trip to the grocery store, meeting up with friends, or going to work, Dr. Ahmad said.

“Overcoming this kind of anxiety and reacclimating ourselves to social situations is going to take more time for some people than others, and that is perfectly natural,” said Dr. Ahmad, founder of the Integrative Center for Wellness in New York.

“I don’t think it’s wise to try to put a limit on what constitutes a normal amount of time to readjust, and I think everyone in the field of mental health needs to avoid pathologizing any lingering sense of unease. No one needs to be medicated or diagnosed with a mental illness because they are nervous about going into public spaces in the immediate aftermath of a pandemic. We need to show a lot of patience and encourage people to readjust at their own pace for the foreseeable future,” Dr. Ahmad said.

Dr. Geller and Dr. Ahmad have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Concern and anxiety around COVID-19 remains high among Americans, with more people reporting mental health effects from the pandemic this year than last, and parents concerned about the mental health of their children, results of a new poll by the American Psychiatric Association show. Although the overall level of anxiety has decreased from last year’s APA poll, “the degree to which anxiety still reigns is concerning,” APA President Jeffrey Geller, MD, MPH, told this news organization.

The results of the latest poll were presented at the American Psychiatric Association 2021 annual meeting and based on an online survey conducted March 26 to April 5 among a sample of 1,000 adults aged 18 years or older.

Serious mental health hit

In the new poll, about 4 in 10 Americans (41%) report they are more anxious than last year, down from just over 60%.

Young adults aged 18-29 years (49%) and Hispanic/Latinos (50%) are more likely to report being more anxious now than a year ago. Those 65 or older (30%) are less apt to say they feel more anxious than last year.

The latest poll also shows that Americans are more anxious about family and loved ones getting COVID-19 (64%) than about catching the virus themselves (49%). 

Concern about family and loved ones contracting COVID-19 has increased since last year’s poll (conducted September 2020), rising from 56% then to 64% now. Hispanic/Latinx individuals (73%) and African American/Black individuals (76%) are more anxious about COVID-19 than White people (59%).

In the new poll, 43% of adults report the pandemic has had a serious impact on their mental health, up from 37% in 2020. Younger adults are more apt than older adults to report serious mental health effects.

Slightly fewer Americans report the pandemic is affecting their day-to-day life now as compared to a year ago, in ways such as problems sleeping (19% down from 22%), difficulty concentrating (18% down from 20%), and fighting more with loved ones (16% down from 17%).

The percentage of adults consuming more alcohol or other substances/drugs than normal increased slightly since last year (14%-17%). Additionally, 33% of adults (40% of women) report gaining weight during the pandemic.

Call to action

More than half of adults (53%) with children report they are concerned about the mental state of their children and almost half (48%) report the pandemic has caused mental health problems for one or more of their children, including minor problems for 29% and major problems for 19%.

More than a quarter (26%) of parents have sought professional mental health help for their children because of the pandemic.

Nearly half (49%) of parents of children younger than 18 years say their child received help from a mental health professional since the start of the pandemic; 23% received help from a primary care professional, 18% from a psychiatrist, 15% from a psychologist, 13% from a therapist, 10% from a social worker, and 10% from a school counselor or school psychologist.

More than 1 in 5 parents reported difficulty scheduling appointments for their child with a mental health professional.

“This poll shows that, even as vaccines become more widespread, Americans are still worried about the mental state of their children,” Dr. Geller said in a news release.

“This is a call to action for policymakers, who need to remember that, in our COVID-19 recovery, there’s no health without mental health,” he added.

Just over three-quarters (76%) of those surveyed say they have been or intend to get vaccinated; 22% say they don’t intend to get vaccinated; and 2% didn’t know.

For those who do not intend to get vaccinated, the primary concern (53%) is about side effects of the vaccine. Other reasons for not getting vaccinated include believing the vaccine is not effective (31%), believing the makers of the vaccine aren’t being honest about what’s in it (27%), and fear/anxiety about needles (12%).

Resiliency a finite resource

Reached for comment, Samoon Ahmad, MD, professor in the department of psychiatry, New York University, said it’s not surprising that Americans are still suffering more anxiety than normal.

“The Census Bureau’s Household Pulse Survey has shown that anxiety and depression levels have remained higher than normal since the pandemic began. That 43% of adults now say that the pandemic has had a serious impact on their mental health seems in line with what that survey has been reporting for over a year,” Dr. Ahmad, who serves as unit chief of inpatient psychiatry at Bellevue Hospital Center in New York, said in an interview.

He believes there are several reasons why anxiety levels remain high. One reason is something he’s noticed among his patients for years. “Most people struggle with anxiety especially at night when the noise and distractions of contemporary life fade away. This is the time of introspection,” he explained.

“Quarantine has been kind of like a protracted night because the distractions that are common in the so-called ‘rat race’ have been relatively muted for the past 14 months. I believe this has caused what you might call ‘forced introspection,’ and that this is giving rise to feelings of anxiety as people use their time alone to reassess their careers and their social lives and really begin to fret about some of the decisions that have led them to this point in their lives,” said Dr. Ahmad.

The other finding in the APA survey – that people are more concerned about their loved ones catching the virus than they were a year ago – is also not surprising, Dr. Ahmad said.

“Even though we seem to have turned a corner in the United States and the worst of the pandemic is behind us, the surge that went from roughly November through March of this year was more wide-reaching geographically than previous waves, and I think this made the severity of the virus far more real to people who lived in communities that had been spared severe outbreaks during the surges that we saw in the spring and summer of 2020,” Dr. Ahmad told this news organization.

“There’s also heightened concern over variants and the efficacy of the vaccine in treating these variants. Those who have families in other countries where the virus is surging, such as India or parts of Latin America, are likely experiencing additional stress and anxiety too,” he noted.

While the new APA poll findings are not surprising, they still are “deeply concerning,” Dr. Ahmad said.

“Resiliency is a finite resource, and people can only take so much stress before their mental health begins to suffer. For most people, this is not going to lead to some kind of overdramatic nervous breakdown. Instead, one may notice that they are more irritable than they once were, that they’re not sleeping particularly well, or that they have a nagging sense of discomfort and stress when doing activities that they used to think of as normal,” like taking a trip to the grocery store, meeting up with friends, or going to work, Dr. Ahmad said.

“Overcoming this kind of anxiety and reacclimating ourselves to social situations is going to take more time for some people than others, and that is perfectly natural,” said Dr. Ahmad, founder of the Integrative Center for Wellness in New York.

“I don’t think it’s wise to try to put a limit on what constitutes a normal amount of time to readjust, and I think everyone in the field of mental health needs to avoid pathologizing any lingering sense of unease. No one needs to be medicated or diagnosed with a mental illness because they are nervous about going into public spaces in the immediate aftermath of a pandemic. We need to show a lot of patience and encourage people to readjust at their own pace for the foreseeable future,” Dr. Ahmad said.

Dr. Geller and Dr. Ahmad have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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