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To fight anti-Asian hate, we must talk about it
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. 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. 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. 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.
National poll shows ‘concerning’ impact of COVID on Americans’ mental health
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.
; 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.
; 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.
; 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.
The cloudy role of cannabis as a neuropsychiatric treatment
Although the healing properties of cannabis have been touted for millennia, research into its potential neuropsychiatric applications truly began to take off in the 1990s following the discovery of the cannabinoid system in the brain. This led to speculation that cannabis could play a therapeutic role in regulating dopamine, serotonin, and other neurotransmitters and offer a new means of treating various ailments.
At the same time, efforts to liberalize marijuana laws have successfully played out in several nations, including the United States, where, as of April 29, 36 states provide some access to cannabis. These dual tracks – medical and political – have made cannabis an increasingly accepted part of the cultural fabric.
Yet with this development has come a new quandary for clinicians. Medical cannabis has been made widely available to patients and has largely outpaced the clinical evidence, leaving it unclear how and for which indications it should be used.
The many forms of medical cannabis
Cannabis is a genus of plants that includes marijuana (Cannabis sativa) and hemp. These plants contain over 100 compounds, including terpenes, flavonoids, and – most importantly for medicinal applications – cannabinoids.
The most abundant cannabinoid in marijuana is the psychotropic delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), which imparts the “high” sensation. The next most abundant cannabinoid is cannabidiol (CBD), which is the nonpsychotropic. THC and CBD are the most extensively studied cannabinoids, together and in isolation. Evidence suggests that other cannabinoids and terpenoids may also hold medical promise and that cannabis’ various compounds can work synergistically to produce a so-called entourage effect.
Patients walking into a typical medical cannabis dispensary will be faced with several plant-derived and synthetic options, which can differ considerably in terms of the ratios and amounts of THC and CBD they contain, as well in how they are consumed (i.e., via smoke, vapor, ingestion, topical administration, or oromucosal spray), all of which can alter their effects. Further complicating matters is the varying level of oversight each state and country has in how and whether they test for and accurately label products’ potency, cannabinoid content, and possible impurities.
Medically authorized, prescription cannabis products go through an official regulatory review process, and indications/contraindications have been established for them. To date, the Food and Drug Administration has approved one cannabis-derived drug product – Epidiolex (purified CBD) – for the treatment of seizures associated with Lennox-Gastaut syndrome or Dravet syndrome in patients aged 2 years and older. The FDA has also approved three synthetic cannabis-related drug products – Marinol, Syndros (or dronabinol, created from synthetic THC), and Cesamet (or nabilone, a synthetic cannabinoid similar to THC) – all of which are indicated for treatment-related nausea and anorexia associated with weight loss in AIDS patients.
Surveys of medical cannabis consumers indicate that most people cannot distinguish between THC and CBD, so the first role that physicians find themselves in when recommending this treatment may be in helping patients navigate the volume of options.
Promising treatment for pain
Chronic pain is the leading reason patients seek out medical cannabis. It is also the indication that most researchers agree has the strongest evidence to support its use.
“In my mind, the most promising immediate use for medical cannabis is with THC for pain,” Diana M. Martinez, MD, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, New York, who specializes in addiction research, said in a recent MDedge podcast. “THC could be added to the armamentarium of pain medications that we use today.”
In a 2015 systematic literature review, researchers assessed 28 randomized, controlled trials (RCTs) of the use of cannabinoids for chronic pain. They reported that a variety of formulations resulted in at least a 30% reduction in the odds of pain, compared with placebo. A meta-analysis of five RCTs involving patients with neuropathic pain found a 30% reduction in pain over placebo with inhaled, vaporized cannabis. Varying results have been reported in additional studies for this indication. The National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine concluded that there was a substantial body of evidence that cannabis is an effective treatment for chronic pain in adults.
The ongoing opioid epidemic has lent these results additional relevance.
Seeing this firsthand has caused Mark Steven Wallace, MD, a pain management specialist and chair of the division of pain medicine at the University of California San Diego Health, to reconsider offering cannabis to his patients.
“I think it’s probably more efficacious, just from my personal experience, and it’s a much lower risk of abuse and dependence than the opioids,” he said.
Dr. Wallace advised that clinicians who treat pain consider the ratios of cannabinoids.
“This is anecdotal, but we do find that with the combination of the two, CBD reduces the psychoactive effects of the THC. The ratios we use during the daytime range around 20 mg of CBD to 1 mg of THC,” he said.
In a recent secondary analysis of an RCT involving patients with painful diabetic peripheral neuropathy, Dr. Wallace and colleagues showed that THC’s effects appear to reverse themselves at a certain level.
“As the THC level goes up, the pain reduces until you reach about 16 ng/mL; then it starts going in the opposite direction, and pain will start to increase,” he said. “Even recreational cannabis users have reported that they avoid high doses because it’s very aversive. Using cannabis is all about, start low and go slow.”
A mixed bag for neurologic indications
There are relatively limited data on the use of medical cannabis for other neurologic conditions, and results have varied. For uses other than pain management, the evidence that does exist is strongest regarding epilepsy, said Daniel Freedman, DO, assistant professor of neurology at the University of Texas at Austin. He noted “multiple high-quality RCTs showing that pharmaceutical-grade CBD can reduce seizures associated with two particular epilepsy syndromes: Dravet Syndrome and Lennox Gastaut.”
These findings led to the FDA’s 2018 approval of Epidiolex for these syndromes. In earlier years, interest in CBD for pediatric seizures was largely driven by anecdotal parental reports of its benefits. NASEM’s 2017 overview on medical cannabis found evidence from subsequent RCTs in this indication to be insufficient. Clinicians who prescribe CBD for this indication must be vigilant because it can interact with several commonly used antiepileptic drugs.
Cannabinoid treatments have also shown success in alleviating muscle spasticity resulting from multiple sclerosis, most prominently in the form of nabiximols (Sativex), a standardized oralmucosal spray containing approximately equal quantities of THC and CBD. Nabiximols is approved in Europe but not in the United States. Moderate evidence supports the efficacy of these and other treatments over placebo in reducing muscle spasticity. Patient ratings of its effects tend to be higher than clinician assessment.
Parkinson’s disease has not yet been approved as an indication for treatment with cannabis or cannabinoids, yet a growing body of preclinical data suggests these could influence the dopaminergic system, said Carsten Buhmann, MD, from the department of neurology at the University Medical Center Hamburg-Eppendorf (Germany).
“In general, cannabinoids modulate basal-ganglia function on two levels which are especially relevant in Parkinson’s disease, i.e., the glutamatergic/dopaminergic synaptic neurotransmission and the corticostriatal plasticity,” he said. “Furthermore, activation of the endocannabinoid system might induce neuroprotective effects related to direct receptor-independent mechanisms, activation of anti-inflammatory cascades in glial cells via the cannabinoid receptor type 2, and antiglutamatergic antiexcitotoxic properties.”
Dr. Buhmann said that currently, clinical evidence is scarce, consisting of only four double-blind, placebo-controlled RCTs involving 49 patients. Various cannabinoids and methods of administering treatment were employed. Improvement was only observed in one of these RCTs, which found that the cannabinoid receptor agonist nabilone significantly reduced levodopa-induced dyskinesia for patients with Parkinson’s disease. Subjective data support a beneficial effect. In a nationwide survey of 1,348 respondents conducted by Dr. Buhmann and colleagues, the majority of medical cannabis users reported that it improved their symptoms (54% with oral CBD and 68% with inhaled THC-containing cannabis).
NASEM concluded that there was insufficient evidence to support the efficacy of medical cannabis for other neurologic conditions, including Tourette syndrome, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Huntington disease, dystonia, or dementia. A 2020 position statement from the American Academy of Neurology cited the lack of sufficient peer-reviewed research as the reason it could not currently support the use of cannabis for neurologic disorders.
Yet, according to Dr. Freedman, who served as a coauthor of the AAN position statement, this hasn’t stymied research interest in the topic. He’s seen a substantial uptick in studies of CBD over the past 2 years. “The body of evidence grows, but I still see many claims being made without evidence. And no one seems to care about all the negative trials.”
Cannabis as a treatment for, and cause of, psychiatric disorders
Mental health problems – such as anxiety, depression, and PTSD – are among the most common reasons patients seek out medical cannabis. There is an understandable interest in using cannabis and cannabinoids to treat psychiatric disorders. Preclinical studies suggest that the endocannabinoid system plays a prominent role in modulating feelings of anxiety, mood, and fear. As with opioids and chronic pain management, there is hope that medical cannabis may provide a means of reducing prescription anxiolytics and their associated risks.
The authors of the first systematic review (BMC Psychiatry. 2020 Jan 16;20[1]:24) of the use of medical cannabis for major psychiatric disorders noted that the current evidence was “encouraging, albeit embryonic.”
Meta-analyses have indicated a small but positive association between cannabis use and anxiety, although this may reflect the fact that patients with anxiety sought out this treatment. Given the risks for substance use disorders among patients with anxiety, CBD may present a more viable option. Positive results have been shown as treatment for generalized social anxiety disorder.
Limited but encouraging results have also been reported regarding the alleviation of PTSD symptoms with both cannabis and CBD, although the body of high-quality evidence hasn’t notably progressed since 2017, when NASEM declared that the evidence was insufficient. Supportive evidence is similarly lacking regarding the treatment of depression. Longitudinal studies suggest that cannabis use, particularly heavy use, may increase the risk of developing this disorder. Because THC is psychoactive, it is advised that it be avoided by patients at risk for psychotic disorders. However, CBD has yielded limited benefits for patients with treatment-resistant schizophrenia and for young people at risk for psychosis.
The use of medical cannabis for psychiatric conditions requires a complex balancing act, inasmuch as these treatments may exacerbate the very problems they are intended to alleviate.
Marta Di Forti, MD, PhD, professor of psychiatric research at Kings College London, has been at the forefront of determining the mental health risks of continued cannabis use. In 2019, Dr. Di Forti developed the first and only Cannabis Clinic for Patients With Psychosis in London where she and her colleagues have continued to elucidate this connection.
Dr. Di Forti and colleagues have linked daily cannabis use to an increase in the risk of experiencing psychotic disorder, compared with never using it. That risk was further increased among users of high-potency cannabis (≥10% THC). The latter finding has troubling implications, because concentrations of THC have steadily risen since 1970. By contrast, CBD concentrations have remained generally stable. High-potency cannabis products are common in both recreational and medicinal settings.
“For somebody prescribing medicinal cannabis that has a ≥10% concentration of THC, I’d be particularly wary of the risk of psychosis,” said Dr. Di Forti. “If you’re expecting people to use a high content of THC daily to medicate pain or a chronic condition, you even more so need to be aware that this is a potential side effect.”
Dr. Di Forti noted that her findings come from a cohort of recreational users, most of whom were aged 18-35 years.
“There have actually not been studies developed from collecting data in this area from groups specifically using cannabis for medicinal rather than recreational purposes,” she said.
She added that she personally has no concerns about the use of medical cannabis but wants clinicians to be aware of the risk for psychosis, to structure their patient conversations to identify risk factors or family histories of psychosis, and to become knowledgeable in detecting the often subtle signs of its initial onset.
When cannabis-associated psychosis occurs, Dr. Di Forti said it is primarily treated with conventional means, such as antipsychotics and therapeutic interventions and by refraining from using cannabis. Achieving the latter goal can be a challenge for patients who are daily users of high-potency cannabis. Currently, there are no treatment options such as those offered to patients withdrawing from the use of alcohol or opioids. Dr. Di Forti and colleagues are currently researching a solution to that problem through the use of another medical cannabis, the oromucosal spray Sativex, which has been approved in the European Union.
The regulatory obstacles to clarifying cannabis’ role in medicine
That currently there is limited or no evidence to support the use of medical cannabis for the treatment of neuropsychiatric conditions points to the inherent difficulties in conducting high-level research in this area.
“There’s a tremendous shortage of reliable data, largely due to regulatory barriers,” said Dr. Martinez.
Since 1970, cannabis has been listed as a Schedule I drug that is illegal to prescribe (the Agriculture Improvement Act of 2018 removed hemp from such restrictions). The FDA has issued guidance for researchers who wish to investigate treatments using Cannabis sativa or its derivatives in which the THC content is greater than 0.3%. Such research requires regular interactions with several federal agencies, including the Drug Enforcement Administration.
“It’s impossible to do multicenter RCTs with large numbers of patients, because you can’t transport cannabis across state lines,” said Dr. Wallace.
Regulatory restrictions regarding medical cannabis vary considerably throughout the world (the European Monitoring Center for Drugs and Drug Addiction provides a useful breakdown of this on their website). The lack of consistency in regulatory oversight acts as an impediment for conducting large-scale international multicenter studies on the topic.
Dr. Buhmann noted that, in Germany, cannabis has been broadly approved for treatment-resistant conditions with severe symptoms that impair quality of life. In addition, it is easy to be reimbursed for the use of cannabis as a medical treatment. These factors serve as disincentives for the funding of high-quality studies.
“It’s likely that no pharmaceutical company will do an expensive RCT to get an approval for Parkinson’s disease because it is already possible to prescribe medical cannabis of any type of THC-containing cannabinoid, dose, or route of application,” Dr. Buhmann said.
In the face of such restrictions and barriers, researchers are turning to ambitious real-world data projects to better understand medical cannabis’ efficacy and safety. A notable example is ProjectTwenty21, which is supported by the Royal College of Psychiatrists. The project is collecting outcomes of the use of medical cannabis among 20,000 U.K. patients whose conventional treatments of chronic pain, anxiety disorder, epilepsy, multiple sclerosis, PTSD, substance use disorder, and Tourette syndrome failed.
Dr. Freedman noted that the continued lack of high-quality data creates a void that commercial interests fill with unfounded claims.
“The danger is that patients might abandon a medication or intervention backed by robust science in favor of something without any science or evidence behind it,” he said. “There is no reason not to expect the same level of data for claims about cannabis products as we would expect from pharmaceutical products.”
Getting to that point, however, will require that the authorities governing clinical trials begin to view cannabis as the research community does, as a possible treatment with potential value, rather than as an illicit drug that needs to be tamped down.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Although the healing properties of cannabis have been touted for millennia, research into its potential neuropsychiatric applications truly began to take off in the 1990s following the discovery of the cannabinoid system in the brain. This led to speculation that cannabis could play a therapeutic role in regulating dopamine, serotonin, and other neurotransmitters and offer a new means of treating various ailments.
At the same time, efforts to liberalize marijuana laws have successfully played out in several nations, including the United States, where, as of April 29, 36 states provide some access to cannabis. These dual tracks – medical and political – have made cannabis an increasingly accepted part of the cultural fabric.
Yet with this development has come a new quandary for clinicians. Medical cannabis has been made widely available to patients and has largely outpaced the clinical evidence, leaving it unclear how and for which indications it should be used.
The many forms of medical cannabis
Cannabis is a genus of plants that includes marijuana (Cannabis sativa) and hemp. These plants contain over 100 compounds, including terpenes, flavonoids, and – most importantly for medicinal applications – cannabinoids.
The most abundant cannabinoid in marijuana is the psychotropic delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), which imparts the “high” sensation. The next most abundant cannabinoid is cannabidiol (CBD), which is the nonpsychotropic. THC and CBD are the most extensively studied cannabinoids, together and in isolation. Evidence suggests that other cannabinoids and terpenoids may also hold medical promise and that cannabis’ various compounds can work synergistically to produce a so-called entourage effect.
Patients walking into a typical medical cannabis dispensary will be faced with several plant-derived and synthetic options, which can differ considerably in terms of the ratios and amounts of THC and CBD they contain, as well in how they are consumed (i.e., via smoke, vapor, ingestion, topical administration, or oromucosal spray), all of which can alter their effects. Further complicating matters is the varying level of oversight each state and country has in how and whether they test for and accurately label products’ potency, cannabinoid content, and possible impurities.
Medically authorized, prescription cannabis products go through an official regulatory review process, and indications/contraindications have been established for them. To date, the Food and Drug Administration has approved one cannabis-derived drug product – Epidiolex (purified CBD) – for the treatment of seizures associated with Lennox-Gastaut syndrome or Dravet syndrome in patients aged 2 years and older. The FDA has also approved three synthetic cannabis-related drug products – Marinol, Syndros (or dronabinol, created from synthetic THC), and Cesamet (or nabilone, a synthetic cannabinoid similar to THC) – all of which are indicated for treatment-related nausea and anorexia associated with weight loss in AIDS patients.
Surveys of medical cannabis consumers indicate that most people cannot distinguish between THC and CBD, so the first role that physicians find themselves in when recommending this treatment may be in helping patients navigate the volume of options.
Promising treatment for pain
Chronic pain is the leading reason patients seek out medical cannabis. It is also the indication that most researchers agree has the strongest evidence to support its use.
“In my mind, the most promising immediate use for medical cannabis is with THC for pain,” Diana M. Martinez, MD, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, New York, who specializes in addiction research, said in a recent MDedge podcast. “THC could be added to the armamentarium of pain medications that we use today.”
In a 2015 systematic literature review, researchers assessed 28 randomized, controlled trials (RCTs) of the use of cannabinoids for chronic pain. They reported that a variety of formulations resulted in at least a 30% reduction in the odds of pain, compared with placebo. A meta-analysis of five RCTs involving patients with neuropathic pain found a 30% reduction in pain over placebo with inhaled, vaporized cannabis. Varying results have been reported in additional studies for this indication. The National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine concluded that there was a substantial body of evidence that cannabis is an effective treatment for chronic pain in adults.
The ongoing opioid epidemic has lent these results additional relevance.
Seeing this firsthand has caused Mark Steven Wallace, MD, a pain management specialist and chair of the division of pain medicine at the University of California San Diego Health, to reconsider offering cannabis to his patients.
“I think it’s probably more efficacious, just from my personal experience, and it’s a much lower risk of abuse and dependence than the opioids,” he said.
Dr. Wallace advised that clinicians who treat pain consider the ratios of cannabinoids.
“This is anecdotal, but we do find that with the combination of the two, CBD reduces the psychoactive effects of the THC. The ratios we use during the daytime range around 20 mg of CBD to 1 mg of THC,” he said.
In a recent secondary analysis of an RCT involving patients with painful diabetic peripheral neuropathy, Dr. Wallace and colleagues showed that THC’s effects appear to reverse themselves at a certain level.
“As the THC level goes up, the pain reduces until you reach about 16 ng/mL; then it starts going in the opposite direction, and pain will start to increase,” he said. “Even recreational cannabis users have reported that they avoid high doses because it’s very aversive. Using cannabis is all about, start low and go slow.”
A mixed bag for neurologic indications
There are relatively limited data on the use of medical cannabis for other neurologic conditions, and results have varied. For uses other than pain management, the evidence that does exist is strongest regarding epilepsy, said Daniel Freedman, DO, assistant professor of neurology at the University of Texas at Austin. He noted “multiple high-quality RCTs showing that pharmaceutical-grade CBD can reduce seizures associated with two particular epilepsy syndromes: Dravet Syndrome and Lennox Gastaut.”
These findings led to the FDA’s 2018 approval of Epidiolex for these syndromes. In earlier years, interest in CBD for pediatric seizures was largely driven by anecdotal parental reports of its benefits. NASEM’s 2017 overview on medical cannabis found evidence from subsequent RCTs in this indication to be insufficient. Clinicians who prescribe CBD for this indication must be vigilant because it can interact with several commonly used antiepileptic drugs.
Cannabinoid treatments have also shown success in alleviating muscle spasticity resulting from multiple sclerosis, most prominently in the form of nabiximols (Sativex), a standardized oralmucosal spray containing approximately equal quantities of THC and CBD. Nabiximols is approved in Europe but not in the United States. Moderate evidence supports the efficacy of these and other treatments over placebo in reducing muscle spasticity. Patient ratings of its effects tend to be higher than clinician assessment.
Parkinson’s disease has not yet been approved as an indication for treatment with cannabis or cannabinoids, yet a growing body of preclinical data suggests these could influence the dopaminergic system, said Carsten Buhmann, MD, from the department of neurology at the University Medical Center Hamburg-Eppendorf (Germany).
“In general, cannabinoids modulate basal-ganglia function on two levels which are especially relevant in Parkinson’s disease, i.e., the glutamatergic/dopaminergic synaptic neurotransmission and the corticostriatal plasticity,” he said. “Furthermore, activation of the endocannabinoid system might induce neuroprotective effects related to direct receptor-independent mechanisms, activation of anti-inflammatory cascades in glial cells via the cannabinoid receptor type 2, and antiglutamatergic antiexcitotoxic properties.”
Dr. Buhmann said that currently, clinical evidence is scarce, consisting of only four double-blind, placebo-controlled RCTs involving 49 patients. Various cannabinoids and methods of administering treatment were employed. Improvement was only observed in one of these RCTs, which found that the cannabinoid receptor agonist nabilone significantly reduced levodopa-induced dyskinesia for patients with Parkinson’s disease. Subjective data support a beneficial effect. In a nationwide survey of 1,348 respondents conducted by Dr. Buhmann and colleagues, the majority of medical cannabis users reported that it improved their symptoms (54% with oral CBD and 68% with inhaled THC-containing cannabis).
NASEM concluded that there was insufficient evidence to support the efficacy of medical cannabis for other neurologic conditions, including Tourette syndrome, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Huntington disease, dystonia, or dementia. A 2020 position statement from the American Academy of Neurology cited the lack of sufficient peer-reviewed research as the reason it could not currently support the use of cannabis for neurologic disorders.
Yet, according to Dr. Freedman, who served as a coauthor of the AAN position statement, this hasn’t stymied research interest in the topic. He’s seen a substantial uptick in studies of CBD over the past 2 years. “The body of evidence grows, but I still see many claims being made without evidence. And no one seems to care about all the negative trials.”
Cannabis as a treatment for, and cause of, psychiatric disorders
Mental health problems – such as anxiety, depression, and PTSD – are among the most common reasons patients seek out medical cannabis. There is an understandable interest in using cannabis and cannabinoids to treat psychiatric disorders. Preclinical studies suggest that the endocannabinoid system plays a prominent role in modulating feelings of anxiety, mood, and fear. As with opioids and chronic pain management, there is hope that medical cannabis may provide a means of reducing prescription anxiolytics and their associated risks.
The authors of the first systematic review (BMC Psychiatry. 2020 Jan 16;20[1]:24) of the use of medical cannabis for major psychiatric disorders noted that the current evidence was “encouraging, albeit embryonic.”
Meta-analyses have indicated a small but positive association between cannabis use and anxiety, although this may reflect the fact that patients with anxiety sought out this treatment. Given the risks for substance use disorders among patients with anxiety, CBD may present a more viable option. Positive results have been shown as treatment for generalized social anxiety disorder.
Limited but encouraging results have also been reported regarding the alleviation of PTSD symptoms with both cannabis and CBD, although the body of high-quality evidence hasn’t notably progressed since 2017, when NASEM declared that the evidence was insufficient. Supportive evidence is similarly lacking regarding the treatment of depression. Longitudinal studies suggest that cannabis use, particularly heavy use, may increase the risk of developing this disorder. Because THC is psychoactive, it is advised that it be avoided by patients at risk for psychotic disorders. However, CBD has yielded limited benefits for patients with treatment-resistant schizophrenia and for young people at risk for psychosis.
The use of medical cannabis for psychiatric conditions requires a complex balancing act, inasmuch as these treatments may exacerbate the very problems they are intended to alleviate.
Marta Di Forti, MD, PhD, professor of psychiatric research at Kings College London, has been at the forefront of determining the mental health risks of continued cannabis use. In 2019, Dr. Di Forti developed the first and only Cannabis Clinic for Patients With Psychosis in London where she and her colleagues have continued to elucidate this connection.
Dr. Di Forti and colleagues have linked daily cannabis use to an increase in the risk of experiencing psychotic disorder, compared with never using it. That risk was further increased among users of high-potency cannabis (≥10% THC). The latter finding has troubling implications, because concentrations of THC have steadily risen since 1970. By contrast, CBD concentrations have remained generally stable. High-potency cannabis products are common in both recreational and medicinal settings.
“For somebody prescribing medicinal cannabis that has a ≥10% concentration of THC, I’d be particularly wary of the risk of psychosis,” said Dr. Di Forti. “If you’re expecting people to use a high content of THC daily to medicate pain or a chronic condition, you even more so need to be aware that this is a potential side effect.”
Dr. Di Forti noted that her findings come from a cohort of recreational users, most of whom were aged 18-35 years.
“There have actually not been studies developed from collecting data in this area from groups specifically using cannabis for medicinal rather than recreational purposes,” she said.
She added that she personally has no concerns about the use of medical cannabis but wants clinicians to be aware of the risk for psychosis, to structure their patient conversations to identify risk factors or family histories of psychosis, and to become knowledgeable in detecting the often subtle signs of its initial onset.
When cannabis-associated psychosis occurs, Dr. Di Forti said it is primarily treated with conventional means, such as antipsychotics and therapeutic interventions and by refraining from using cannabis. Achieving the latter goal can be a challenge for patients who are daily users of high-potency cannabis. Currently, there are no treatment options such as those offered to patients withdrawing from the use of alcohol or opioids. Dr. Di Forti and colleagues are currently researching a solution to that problem through the use of another medical cannabis, the oromucosal spray Sativex, which has been approved in the European Union.
The regulatory obstacles to clarifying cannabis’ role in medicine
That currently there is limited or no evidence to support the use of medical cannabis for the treatment of neuropsychiatric conditions points to the inherent difficulties in conducting high-level research in this area.
“There’s a tremendous shortage of reliable data, largely due to regulatory barriers,” said Dr. Martinez.
Since 1970, cannabis has been listed as a Schedule I drug that is illegal to prescribe (the Agriculture Improvement Act of 2018 removed hemp from such restrictions). The FDA has issued guidance for researchers who wish to investigate treatments using Cannabis sativa or its derivatives in which the THC content is greater than 0.3%. Such research requires regular interactions with several federal agencies, including the Drug Enforcement Administration.
“It’s impossible to do multicenter RCTs with large numbers of patients, because you can’t transport cannabis across state lines,” said Dr. Wallace.
Regulatory restrictions regarding medical cannabis vary considerably throughout the world (the European Monitoring Center for Drugs and Drug Addiction provides a useful breakdown of this on their website). The lack of consistency in regulatory oversight acts as an impediment for conducting large-scale international multicenter studies on the topic.
Dr. Buhmann noted that, in Germany, cannabis has been broadly approved for treatment-resistant conditions with severe symptoms that impair quality of life. In addition, it is easy to be reimbursed for the use of cannabis as a medical treatment. These factors serve as disincentives for the funding of high-quality studies.
“It’s likely that no pharmaceutical company will do an expensive RCT to get an approval for Parkinson’s disease because it is already possible to prescribe medical cannabis of any type of THC-containing cannabinoid, dose, or route of application,” Dr. Buhmann said.
In the face of such restrictions and barriers, researchers are turning to ambitious real-world data projects to better understand medical cannabis’ efficacy and safety. A notable example is ProjectTwenty21, which is supported by the Royal College of Psychiatrists. The project is collecting outcomes of the use of medical cannabis among 20,000 U.K. patients whose conventional treatments of chronic pain, anxiety disorder, epilepsy, multiple sclerosis, PTSD, substance use disorder, and Tourette syndrome failed.
Dr. Freedman noted that the continued lack of high-quality data creates a void that commercial interests fill with unfounded claims.
“The danger is that patients might abandon a medication or intervention backed by robust science in favor of something without any science or evidence behind it,” he said. “There is no reason not to expect the same level of data for claims about cannabis products as we would expect from pharmaceutical products.”
Getting to that point, however, will require that the authorities governing clinical trials begin to view cannabis as the research community does, as a possible treatment with potential value, rather than as an illicit drug that needs to be tamped down.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Although the healing properties of cannabis have been touted for millennia, research into its potential neuropsychiatric applications truly began to take off in the 1990s following the discovery of the cannabinoid system in the brain. This led to speculation that cannabis could play a therapeutic role in regulating dopamine, serotonin, and other neurotransmitters and offer a new means of treating various ailments.
At the same time, efforts to liberalize marijuana laws have successfully played out in several nations, including the United States, where, as of April 29, 36 states provide some access to cannabis. These dual tracks – medical and political – have made cannabis an increasingly accepted part of the cultural fabric.
Yet with this development has come a new quandary for clinicians. Medical cannabis has been made widely available to patients and has largely outpaced the clinical evidence, leaving it unclear how and for which indications it should be used.
The many forms of medical cannabis
Cannabis is a genus of plants that includes marijuana (Cannabis sativa) and hemp. These plants contain over 100 compounds, including terpenes, flavonoids, and – most importantly for medicinal applications – cannabinoids.
The most abundant cannabinoid in marijuana is the psychotropic delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), which imparts the “high” sensation. The next most abundant cannabinoid is cannabidiol (CBD), which is the nonpsychotropic. THC and CBD are the most extensively studied cannabinoids, together and in isolation. Evidence suggests that other cannabinoids and terpenoids may also hold medical promise and that cannabis’ various compounds can work synergistically to produce a so-called entourage effect.
Patients walking into a typical medical cannabis dispensary will be faced with several plant-derived and synthetic options, which can differ considerably in terms of the ratios and amounts of THC and CBD they contain, as well in how they are consumed (i.e., via smoke, vapor, ingestion, topical administration, or oromucosal spray), all of which can alter their effects. Further complicating matters is the varying level of oversight each state and country has in how and whether they test for and accurately label products’ potency, cannabinoid content, and possible impurities.
Medically authorized, prescription cannabis products go through an official regulatory review process, and indications/contraindications have been established for them. To date, the Food and Drug Administration has approved one cannabis-derived drug product – Epidiolex (purified CBD) – for the treatment of seizures associated with Lennox-Gastaut syndrome or Dravet syndrome in patients aged 2 years and older. The FDA has also approved three synthetic cannabis-related drug products – Marinol, Syndros (or dronabinol, created from synthetic THC), and Cesamet (or nabilone, a synthetic cannabinoid similar to THC) – all of which are indicated for treatment-related nausea and anorexia associated with weight loss in AIDS patients.
Surveys of medical cannabis consumers indicate that most people cannot distinguish between THC and CBD, so the first role that physicians find themselves in when recommending this treatment may be in helping patients navigate the volume of options.
Promising treatment for pain
Chronic pain is the leading reason patients seek out medical cannabis. It is also the indication that most researchers agree has the strongest evidence to support its use.
“In my mind, the most promising immediate use for medical cannabis is with THC for pain,” Diana M. Martinez, MD, a professor of psychiatry at Columbia University, New York, who specializes in addiction research, said in a recent MDedge podcast. “THC could be added to the armamentarium of pain medications that we use today.”
In a 2015 systematic literature review, researchers assessed 28 randomized, controlled trials (RCTs) of the use of cannabinoids for chronic pain. They reported that a variety of formulations resulted in at least a 30% reduction in the odds of pain, compared with placebo. A meta-analysis of five RCTs involving patients with neuropathic pain found a 30% reduction in pain over placebo with inhaled, vaporized cannabis. Varying results have been reported in additional studies for this indication. The National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine concluded that there was a substantial body of evidence that cannabis is an effective treatment for chronic pain in adults.
The ongoing opioid epidemic has lent these results additional relevance.
Seeing this firsthand has caused Mark Steven Wallace, MD, a pain management specialist and chair of the division of pain medicine at the University of California San Diego Health, to reconsider offering cannabis to his patients.
“I think it’s probably more efficacious, just from my personal experience, and it’s a much lower risk of abuse and dependence than the opioids,” he said.
Dr. Wallace advised that clinicians who treat pain consider the ratios of cannabinoids.
“This is anecdotal, but we do find that with the combination of the two, CBD reduces the psychoactive effects of the THC. The ratios we use during the daytime range around 20 mg of CBD to 1 mg of THC,” he said.
In a recent secondary analysis of an RCT involving patients with painful diabetic peripheral neuropathy, Dr. Wallace and colleagues showed that THC’s effects appear to reverse themselves at a certain level.
“As the THC level goes up, the pain reduces until you reach about 16 ng/mL; then it starts going in the opposite direction, and pain will start to increase,” he said. “Even recreational cannabis users have reported that they avoid high doses because it’s very aversive. Using cannabis is all about, start low and go slow.”
A mixed bag for neurologic indications
There are relatively limited data on the use of medical cannabis for other neurologic conditions, and results have varied. For uses other than pain management, the evidence that does exist is strongest regarding epilepsy, said Daniel Freedman, DO, assistant professor of neurology at the University of Texas at Austin. He noted “multiple high-quality RCTs showing that pharmaceutical-grade CBD can reduce seizures associated with two particular epilepsy syndromes: Dravet Syndrome and Lennox Gastaut.”
These findings led to the FDA’s 2018 approval of Epidiolex for these syndromes. In earlier years, interest in CBD for pediatric seizures was largely driven by anecdotal parental reports of its benefits. NASEM’s 2017 overview on medical cannabis found evidence from subsequent RCTs in this indication to be insufficient. Clinicians who prescribe CBD for this indication must be vigilant because it can interact with several commonly used antiepileptic drugs.
Cannabinoid treatments have also shown success in alleviating muscle spasticity resulting from multiple sclerosis, most prominently in the form of nabiximols (Sativex), a standardized oralmucosal spray containing approximately equal quantities of THC and CBD. Nabiximols is approved in Europe but not in the United States. Moderate evidence supports the efficacy of these and other treatments over placebo in reducing muscle spasticity. Patient ratings of its effects tend to be higher than clinician assessment.
Parkinson’s disease has not yet been approved as an indication for treatment with cannabis or cannabinoids, yet a growing body of preclinical data suggests these could influence the dopaminergic system, said Carsten Buhmann, MD, from the department of neurology at the University Medical Center Hamburg-Eppendorf (Germany).
“In general, cannabinoids modulate basal-ganglia function on two levels which are especially relevant in Parkinson’s disease, i.e., the glutamatergic/dopaminergic synaptic neurotransmission and the corticostriatal plasticity,” he said. “Furthermore, activation of the endocannabinoid system might induce neuroprotective effects related to direct receptor-independent mechanisms, activation of anti-inflammatory cascades in glial cells via the cannabinoid receptor type 2, and antiglutamatergic antiexcitotoxic properties.”
Dr. Buhmann said that currently, clinical evidence is scarce, consisting of only four double-blind, placebo-controlled RCTs involving 49 patients. Various cannabinoids and methods of administering treatment were employed. Improvement was only observed in one of these RCTs, which found that the cannabinoid receptor agonist nabilone significantly reduced levodopa-induced dyskinesia for patients with Parkinson’s disease. Subjective data support a beneficial effect. In a nationwide survey of 1,348 respondents conducted by Dr. Buhmann and colleagues, the majority of medical cannabis users reported that it improved their symptoms (54% with oral CBD and 68% with inhaled THC-containing cannabis).
NASEM concluded that there was insufficient evidence to support the efficacy of medical cannabis for other neurologic conditions, including Tourette syndrome, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Huntington disease, dystonia, or dementia. A 2020 position statement from the American Academy of Neurology cited the lack of sufficient peer-reviewed research as the reason it could not currently support the use of cannabis for neurologic disorders.
Yet, according to Dr. Freedman, who served as a coauthor of the AAN position statement, this hasn’t stymied research interest in the topic. He’s seen a substantial uptick in studies of CBD over the past 2 years. “The body of evidence grows, but I still see many claims being made without evidence. And no one seems to care about all the negative trials.”
Cannabis as a treatment for, and cause of, psychiatric disorders
Mental health problems – such as anxiety, depression, and PTSD – are among the most common reasons patients seek out medical cannabis. There is an understandable interest in using cannabis and cannabinoids to treat psychiatric disorders. Preclinical studies suggest that the endocannabinoid system plays a prominent role in modulating feelings of anxiety, mood, and fear. As with opioids and chronic pain management, there is hope that medical cannabis may provide a means of reducing prescription anxiolytics and their associated risks.
The authors of the first systematic review (BMC Psychiatry. 2020 Jan 16;20[1]:24) of the use of medical cannabis for major psychiatric disorders noted that the current evidence was “encouraging, albeit embryonic.”
Meta-analyses have indicated a small but positive association between cannabis use and anxiety, although this may reflect the fact that patients with anxiety sought out this treatment. Given the risks for substance use disorders among patients with anxiety, CBD may present a more viable option. Positive results have been shown as treatment for generalized social anxiety disorder.
Limited but encouraging results have also been reported regarding the alleviation of PTSD symptoms with both cannabis and CBD, although the body of high-quality evidence hasn’t notably progressed since 2017, when NASEM declared that the evidence was insufficient. Supportive evidence is similarly lacking regarding the treatment of depression. Longitudinal studies suggest that cannabis use, particularly heavy use, may increase the risk of developing this disorder. Because THC is psychoactive, it is advised that it be avoided by patients at risk for psychotic disorders. However, CBD has yielded limited benefits for patients with treatment-resistant schizophrenia and for young people at risk for psychosis.
The use of medical cannabis for psychiatric conditions requires a complex balancing act, inasmuch as these treatments may exacerbate the very problems they are intended to alleviate.
Marta Di Forti, MD, PhD, professor of psychiatric research at Kings College London, has been at the forefront of determining the mental health risks of continued cannabis use. In 2019, Dr. Di Forti developed the first and only Cannabis Clinic for Patients With Psychosis in London where she and her colleagues have continued to elucidate this connection.
Dr. Di Forti and colleagues have linked daily cannabis use to an increase in the risk of experiencing psychotic disorder, compared with never using it. That risk was further increased among users of high-potency cannabis (≥10% THC). The latter finding has troubling implications, because concentrations of THC have steadily risen since 1970. By contrast, CBD concentrations have remained generally stable. High-potency cannabis products are common in both recreational and medicinal settings.
“For somebody prescribing medicinal cannabis that has a ≥10% concentration of THC, I’d be particularly wary of the risk of psychosis,” said Dr. Di Forti. “If you’re expecting people to use a high content of THC daily to medicate pain or a chronic condition, you even more so need to be aware that this is a potential side effect.”
Dr. Di Forti noted that her findings come from a cohort of recreational users, most of whom were aged 18-35 years.
“There have actually not been studies developed from collecting data in this area from groups specifically using cannabis for medicinal rather than recreational purposes,” she said.
She added that she personally has no concerns about the use of medical cannabis but wants clinicians to be aware of the risk for psychosis, to structure their patient conversations to identify risk factors or family histories of psychosis, and to become knowledgeable in detecting the often subtle signs of its initial onset.
When cannabis-associated psychosis occurs, Dr. Di Forti said it is primarily treated with conventional means, such as antipsychotics and therapeutic interventions and by refraining from using cannabis. Achieving the latter goal can be a challenge for patients who are daily users of high-potency cannabis. Currently, there are no treatment options such as those offered to patients withdrawing from the use of alcohol or opioids. Dr. Di Forti and colleagues are currently researching a solution to that problem through the use of another medical cannabis, the oromucosal spray Sativex, which has been approved in the European Union.
The regulatory obstacles to clarifying cannabis’ role in medicine
That currently there is limited or no evidence to support the use of medical cannabis for the treatment of neuropsychiatric conditions points to the inherent difficulties in conducting high-level research in this area.
“There’s a tremendous shortage of reliable data, largely due to regulatory barriers,” said Dr. Martinez.
Since 1970, cannabis has been listed as a Schedule I drug that is illegal to prescribe (the Agriculture Improvement Act of 2018 removed hemp from such restrictions). The FDA has issued guidance for researchers who wish to investigate treatments using Cannabis sativa or its derivatives in which the THC content is greater than 0.3%. Such research requires regular interactions with several federal agencies, including the Drug Enforcement Administration.
“It’s impossible to do multicenter RCTs with large numbers of patients, because you can’t transport cannabis across state lines,” said Dr. Wallace.
Regulatory restrictions regarding medical cannabis vary considerably throughout the world (the European Monitoring Center for Drugs and Drug Addiction provides a useful breakdown of this on their website). The lack of consistency in regulatory oversight acts as an impediment for conducting large-scale international multicenter studies on the topic.
Dr. Buhmann noted that, in Germany, cannabis has been broadly approved for treatment-resistant conditions with severe symptoms that impair quality of life. In addition, it is easy to be reimbursed for the use of cannabis as a medical treatment. These factors serve as disincentives for the funding of high-quality studies.
“It’s likely that no pharmaceutical company will do an expensive RCT to get an approval for Parkinson’s disease because it is already possible to prescribe medical cannabis of any type of THC-containing cannabinoid, dose, or route of application,” Dr. Buhmann said.
In the face of such restrictions and barriers, researchers are turning to ambitious real-world data projects to better understand medical cannabis’ efficacy and safety. A notable example is ProjectTwenty21, which is supported by the Royal College of Psychiatrists. The project is collecting outcomes of the use of medical cannabis among 20,000 U.K. patients whose conventional treatments of chronic pain, anxiety disorder, epilepsy, multiple sclerosis, PTSD, substance use disorder, and Tourette syndrome failed.
Dr. Freedman noted that the continued lack of high-quality data creates a void that commercial interests fill with unfounded claims.
“The danger is that patients might abandon a medication or intervention backed by robust science in favor of something without any science or evidence behind it,” he said. “There is no reason not to expect the same level of data for claims about cannabis products as we would expect from pharmaceutical products.”
Getting to that point, however, will require that the authorities governing clinical trials begin to view cannabis as the research community does, as a possible treatment with potential value, rather than as an illicit drug that needs to be tamped down.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
COVID lockdowns linked to PTSD in patients with eating disorders
COVID-19 and its resulting lockdowns are linked to posttraumatic stress disorder symptoms and other adverse outcomes among patients with eating disorders (EDs), two new studies show.
Results of the first study show that patients with EDs had more stress, anxiety, depression, and PTSD-related symptoms during the lockdowns than their mentally healthy peers.
In the second study, treatment-related symptom improvement among patients with bulimia nervosa (BN) slowed following lockdown. In addition, patients with BN or anorexia nervosa (AN) experienced significant worsening of disorder-specific behaviors, including binge eating and overexercising.
Because of the strict lockdown measures introduced by the Italian government to contain the COVID-19 pandemic, “everyday life of all citizens was disrupted,” Veronica Nisticò, MS, Università Degli Studi Di Milano, who led the first study, told delegates attending the virtual European Psychiatric Association 2021 Congress.
In addition to difficulties in accessing health care, “it became difficult to go to the supermarket, to the gym, and to have the social support we were all used to,” all of which had a well-documented impact on mental health, added Ms. Nisticò, who is also affiliated with Aldo Ravelli Research Center for Neurotechnology and Experimental Brain Therapeutics.
Loss of control
Previous research suggests that individuals with EDs experience high levels of anxiety and an increase in binge eating, exercise, and purging behaviors, said Ms. Nisticò.
To investigate further, the researchers conducted a longitudinal study of the changes in prevalence of adverse outcomes. In the study, two assessments were conducted.
The second group served as the control group.
Participants completed an online survey that included several standardized depression and anxiety scales, as well as an ad hoc survey adapted from the Eating Disorder Examination Questionnaire. This assessed changes in restrictive dieting, control over food, body image, and psychological well-being in comparison with prepandemic levels.
The results, which were also recently published online in Eating and Weight Disorders – Studies on Anorexia, Bulimia and Obesity, showed that patients with EDs experienced significantly more stress, anxiety, depression, and PTSD-related symptoms in comparison with control persons (P < .05 for all).
In addition, the investigators found that those with EDs were more fearful of losing control over their eating behavior, spent more time thinking about food and their body, and became more uncomfortable seeing their body than before the lockdown in comparison with those without EDs (P < .05).
Clinical implications
A second assessment, which occurred in June 2020, after lockdown restrictions were lifted, included 40 patients with EDs who had taken part in the first assessment. This time, participants were asked to compare their current eating behavior with their eating behavior during the lockdown.
Although the lifting of lockdown restrictions was associated with significant improvement in PTSD-related symptoms, the impact on stress, anxiety, and depression persisted.
These findings, said Ms. Nisticó, support the hypothesis that specific conditions that occurred during the lockdown had a direct effect on specific ED symptoms.
These findings, she added, should be considered when developing interventions for EDs in the context of individual psychotherapy and when designing large, preventive interventions.
In the second study, Eleonora Rossi, MD, psychiatric unit, department of health sciences, University of Florence (Italy), and colleagues examined the longitudinal impact of the pandemic on individuals with EDs.
They examined 74 patients with AN or BN who had undergone baseline assessments and had completed a number of questionnaires in the first months of 2019 in conjunction with being enrolled in another study.
Participants were treated with enhanced cognitive-behavioral therapy and were reevaluated between November 2019 and January 2020. They were then compared with 97 healthy individuals.
Bulimia patients more vulnerable
After the outbreak of the pandemic, most treatment was administered online, so patients were able to continue therapy, Dr. Rossi said during her presentation.
All participants were assessed again in April 2020, 6 weeks after the start of Italy’s lockdown.
The results, which were published in the International Journal of Eating Disorders, show that the patients with EDs “underwent a significant improvement in terms of general and eating disorder specific psychopathology” during the first treatment period, Dr. Rossi reported. In addition, among those with AN, body mass index increased significantly (P < .05 for all).
Patients with AN continued to improve during the lockdown when therapy was administered online. However, improvements that had occurred among those with BN slowed, Dr. Rossi noted.
In addition, both groups of patients with EDs experienced a worsening of their pathological eating behaviors during the lockdown, in particular, objective binge eating and compensatory physical exercise (P < .05).
“Indeed, the positive trajectory of improvement observed before lockdown was clearly interrupted during the pandemic period,” Dr. Rossi said. This could “represent a possible hint of an imminent exacerbation of the disease.”
The results also suggest that the occurrence of arguments within the household and fear regarding the safety of loved ones predicted an increase in symptoms during the lockdown, she added.
In addition, patients with BN reported more severe COVID-related PTSD symptoms than did those with AN and the control group. This increase in severity of symptoms was more prevalent among patients who had a history of childhood trauma and among those with insecure attachment, suggesting that such patients may be more vulnerable.
Evidence of recovery
Commenting on the studies, David Spiegel, MD, associate chair of psychiatry, Stanford (Calif.) University, noted that EDs commonly occur after physical or sexual trauma earlier in life.
“It’s a standard thing with trauma-related disorders that any other, even relatively minor, traumatic experience can exacerbate PTSD symptoms,” said Dr. Spiegel, who was not involved in the studies. In addition, the trauma of the COVID pandemic “was not minor.
“The relative isolation and the lack of outside contact may focus many people with eating disorders even more on their struggles with how they are taking care of their bodies,” said Dr. Spiegel.
“It struck me that the anorexia nervosa group were more impervious than the bulimia nervosa group, but I think that’s the case with the disorder. In some ways it’s more severe, obviously a more life-threatening disorder,” he added.
The “hopeful thing is that there seemed to be some evidence of recovery and improvement, particularly with the posttraumatic stress exacerbation, as time went on,” Dr. Spiegel said, “and that’s a good thing.”
The study authors and Dr. Spiegel reported no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
COVID-19 and its resulting lockdowns are linked to posttraumatic stress disorder symptoms and other adverse outcomes among patients with eating disorders (EDs), two new studies show.
Results of the first study show that patients with EDs had more stress, anxiety, depression, and PTSD-related symptoms during the lockdowns than their mentally healthy peers.
In the second study, treatment-related symptom improvement among patients with bulimia nervosa (BN) slowed following lockdown. In addition, patients with BN or anorexia nervosa (AN) experienced significant worsening of disorder-specific behaviors, including binge eating and overexercising.
Because of the strict lockdown measures introduced by the Italian government to contain the COVID-19 pandemic, “everyday life of all citizens was disrupted,” Veronica Nisticò, MS, Università Degli Studi Di Milano, who led the first study, told delegates attending the virtual European Psychiatric Association 2021 Congress.
In addition to difficulties in accessing health care, “it became difficult to go to the supermarket, to the gym, and to have the social support we were all used to,” all of which had a well-documented impact on mental health, added Ms. Nisticò, who is also affiliated with Aldo Ravelli Research Center for Neurotechnology and Experimental Brain Therapeutics.
Loss of control
Previous research suggests that individuals with EDs experience high levels of anxiety and an increase in binge eating, exercise, and purging behaviors, said Ms. Nisticò.
To investigate further, the researchers conducted a longitudinal study of the changes in prevalence of adverse outcomes. In the study, two assessments were conducted.
The second group served as the control group.
Participants completed an online survey that included several standardized depression and anxiety scales, as well as an ad hoc survey adapted from the Eating Disorder Examination Questionnaire. This assessed changes in restrictive dieting, control over food, body image, and psychological well-being in comparison with prepandemic levels.
The results, which were also recently published online in Eating and Weight Disorders – Studies on Anorexia, Bulimia and Obesity, showed that patients with EDs experienced significantly more stress, anxiety, depression, and PTSD-related symptoms in comparison with control persons (P < .05 for all).
In addition, the investigators found that those with EDs were more fearful of losing control over their eating behavior, spent more time thinking about food and their body, and became more uncomfortable seeing their body than before the lockdown in comparison with those without EDs (P < .05).
Clinical implications
A second assessment, which occurred in June 2020, after lockdown restrictions were lifted, included 40 patients with EDs who had taken part in the first assessment. This time, participants were asked to compare their current eating behavior with their eating behavior during the lockdown.
Although the lifting of lockdown restrictions was associated with significant improvement in PTSD-related symptoms, the impact on stress, anxiety, and depression persisted.
These findings, said Ms. Nisticó, support the hypothesis that specific conditions that occurred during the lockdown had a direct effect on specific ED symptoms.
These findings, she added, should be considered when developing interventions for EDs in the context of individual psychotherapy and when designing large, preventive interventions.
In the second study, Eleonora Rossi, MD, psychiatric unit, department of health sciences, University of Florence (Italy), and colleagues examined the longitudinal impact of the pandemic on individuals with EDs.
They examined 74 patients with AN or BN who had undergone baseline assessments and had completed a number of questionnaires in the first months of 2019 in conjunction with being enrolled in another study.
Participants were treated with enhanced cognitive-behavioral therapy and were reevaluated between November 2019 and January 2020. They were then compared with 97 healthy individuals.
Bulimia patients more vulnerable
After the outbreak of the pandemic, most treatment was administered online, so patients were able to continue therapy, Dr. Rossi said during her presentation.
All participants were assessed again in April 2020, 6 weeks after the start of Italy’s lockdown.
The results, which were published in the International Journal of Eating Disorders, show that the patients with EDs “underwent a significant improvement in terms of general and eating disorder specific psychopathology” during the first treatment period, Dr. Rossi reported. In addition, among those with AN, body mass index increased significantly (P < .05 for all).
Patients with AN continued to improve during the lockdown when therapy was administered online. However, improvements that had occurred among those with BN slowed, Dr. Rossi noted.
In addition, both groups of patients with EDs experienced a worsening of their pathological eating behaviors during the lockdown, in particular, objective binge eating and compensatory physical exercise (P < .05).
“Indeed, the positive trajectory of improvement observed before lockdown was clearly interrupted during the pandemic period,” Dr. Rossi said. This could “represent a possible hint of an imminent exacerbation of the disease.”
The results also suggest that the occurrence of arguments within the household and fear regarding the safety of loved ones predicted an increase in symptoms during the lockdown, she added.
In addition, patients with BN reported more severe COVID-related PTSD symptoms than did those with AN and the control group. This increase in severity of symptoms was more prevalent among patients who had a history of childhood trauma and among those with insecure attachment, suggesting that such patients may be more vulnerable.
Evidence of recovery
Commenting on the studies, David Spiegel, MD, associate chair of psychiatry, Stanford (Calif.) University, noted that EDs commonly occur after physical or sexual trauma earlier in life.
“It’s a standard thing with trauma-related disorders that any other, even relatively minor, traumatic experience can exacerbate PTSD symptoms,” said Dr. Spiegel, who was not involved in the studies. In addition, the trauma of the COVID pandemic “was not minor.
“The relative isolation and the lack of outside contact may focus many people with eating disorders even more on their struggles with how they are taking care of their bodies,” said Dr. Spiegel.
“It struck me that the anorexia nervosa group were more impervious than the bulimia nervosa group, but I think that’s the case with the disorder. In some ways it’s more severe, obviously a more life-threatening disorder,” he added.
The “hopeful thing is that there seemed to be some evidence of recovery and improvement, particularly with the posttraumatic stress exacerbation, as time went on,” Dr. Spiegel said, “and that’s a good thing.”
The study authors and Dr. Spiegel reported no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
COVID-19 and its resulting lockdowns are linked to posttraumatic stress disorder symptoms and other adverse outcomes among patients with eating disorders (EDs), two new studies show.
Results of the first study show that patients with EDs had more stress, anxiety, depression, and PTSD-related symptoms during the lockdowns than their mentally healthy peers.
In the second study, treatment-related symptom improvement among patients with bulimia nervosa (BN) slowed following lockdown. In addition, patients with BN or anorexia nervosa (AN) experienced significant worsening of disorder-specific behaviors, including binge eating and overexercising.
Because of the strict lockdown measures introduced by the Italian government to contain the COVID-19 pandemic, “everyday life of all citizens was disrupted,” Veronica Nisticò, MS, Università Degli Studi Di Milano, who led the first study, told delegates attending the virtual European Psychiatric Association 2021 Congress.
In addition to difficulties in accessing health care, “it became difficult to go to the supermarket, to the gym, and to have the social support we were all used to,” all of which had a well-documented impact on mental health, added Ms. Nisticò, who is also affiliated with Aldo Ravelli Research Center for Neurotechnology and Experimental Brain Therapeutics.
Loss of control
Previous research suggests that individuals with EDs experience high levels of anxiety and an increase in binge eating, exercise, and purging behaviors, said Ms. Nisticò.
To investigate further, the researchers conducted a longitudinal study of the changes in prevalence of adverse outcomes. In the study, two assessments were conducted.
The second group served as the control group.
Participants completed an online survey that included several standardized depression and anxiety scales, as well as an ad hoc survey adapted from the Eating Disorder Examination Questionnaire. This assessed changes in restrictive dieting, control over food, body image, and psychological well-being in comparison with prepandemic levels.
The results, which were also recently published online in Eating and Weight Disorders – Studies on Anorexia, Bulimia and Obesity, showed that patients with EDs experienced significantly more stress, anxiety, depression, and PTSD-related symptoms in comparison with control persons (P < .05 for all).
In addition, the investigators found that those with EDs were more fearful of losing control over their eating behavior, spent more time thinking about food and their body, and became more uncomfortable seeing their body than before the lockdown in comparison with those without EDs (P < .05).
Clinical implications
A second assessment, which occurred in June 2020, after lockdown restrictions were lifted, included 40 patients with EDs who had taken part in the first assessment. This time, participants were asked to compare their current eating behavior with their eating behavior during the lockdown.
Although the lifting of lockdown restrictions was associated with significant improvement in PTSD-related symptoms, the impact on stress, anxiety, and depression persisted.
These findings, said Ms. Nisticó, support the hypothesis that specific conditions that occurred during the lockdown had a direct effect on specific ED symptoms.
These findings, she added, should be considered when developing interventions for EDs in the context of individual psychotherapy and when designing large, preventive interventions.
In the second study, Eleonora Rossi, MD, psychiatric unit, department of health sciences, University of Florence (Italy), and colleagues examined the longitudinal impact of the pandemic on individuals with EDs.
They examined 74 patients with AN or BN who had undergone baseline assessments and had completed a number of questionnaires in the first months of 2019 in conjunction with being enrolled in another study.
Participants were treated with enhanced cognitive-behavioral therapy and were reevaluated between November 2019 and January 2020. They were then compared with 97 healthy individuals.
Bulimia patients more vulnerable
After the outbreak of the pandemic, most treatment was administered online, so patients were able to continue therapy, Dr. Rossi said during her presentation.
All participants were assessed again in April 2020, 6 weeks after the start of Italy’s lockdown.
The results, which were published in the International Journal of Eating Disorders, show that the patients with EDs “underwent a significant improvement in terms of general and eating disorder specific psychopathology” during the first treatment period, Dr. Rossi reported. In addition, among those with AN, body mass index increased significantly (P < .05 for all).
Patients with AN continued to improve during the lockdown when therapy was administered online. However, improvements that had occurred among those with BN slowed, Dr. Rossi noted.
In addition, both groups of patients with EDs experienced a worsening of their pathological eating behaviors during the lockdown, in particular, objective binge eating and compensatory physical exercise (P < .05).
“Indeed, the positive trajectory of improvement observed before lockdown was clearly interrupted during the pandemic period,” Dr. Rossi said. This could “represent a possible hint of an imminent exacerbation of the disease.”
The results also suggest that the occurrence of arguments within the household and fear regarding the safety of loved ones predicted an increase in symptoms during the lockdown, she added.
In addition, patients with BN reported more severe COVID-related PTSD symptoms than did those with AN and the control group. This increase in severity of symptoms was more prevalent among patients who had a history of childhood trauma and among those with insecure attachment, suggesting that such patients may be more vulnerable.
Evidence of recovery
Commenting on the studies, David Spiegel, MD, associate chair of psychiatry, Stanford (Calif.) University, noted that EDs commonly occur after physical or sexual trauma earlier in life.
“It’s a standard thing with trauma-related disorders that any other, even relatively minor, traumatic experience can exacerbate PTSD symptoms,” said Dr. Spiegel, who was not involved in the studies. In addition, the trauma of the COVID pandemic “was not minor.
“The relative isolation and the lack of outside contact may focus many people with eating disorders even more on their struggles with how they are taking care of their bodies,” said Dr. Spiegel.
“It struck me that the anorexia nervosa group were more impervious than the bulimia nervosa group, but I think that’s the case with the disorder. In some ways it’s more severe, obviously a more life-threatening disorder,” he added.
The “hopeful thing is that there seemed to be some evidence of recovery and improvement, particularly with the posttraumatic stress exacerbation, as time went on,” Dr. Spiegel said, “and that’s a good thing.”
The study authors and Dr. Spiegel reported no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Suicide in the early months of the pandemic: Unexpected trends
Every psychiatrist knows that this past year has been a challenge. The COVID-19 pandemic altered our lives, practically overnight, in ways that most of us had never anticipated.
There were months of lockdown. A new work-from-home transition. Recommendations to distance and mask. The destruction and recreation of our social lives. And the end of some industries as we have known them.
Over a year later, many children are still in virtual school. This lifestyle and economic toll do not even begin to include the horror experienced by exhausted and distressed health care workers or by the many who have lost a loved one or survived a hospitalization. National and international anxiety are running high. More people are seeking mental health care, and many of the patients we were caring for prior to the pandemic have been distressed.
Rates of both depression and anxiety are up, and the fear has been that the isolation of lockdowns, with their emotional and economic toll, would also increase suicide rates. Despite the increase in psychiatric symptoms and general distress, initial studies in the United States have shown that overall suicide rates in the early months of the pandemic were lower than in prior years.
A study published in The Lancet looked at suicide data from around the world and compared expected suicides, based on data from past years, with observed suicides. The researchers restricted their analysis to the countries, and regions of countries, where real-time suicide data were available through internet searches. Their paper is based on findings from 21 countries, including 16 high-income countries and five upper-middle–income countries (from regions where data were available). The overall analysis showed a drop in suicides by 5% when looking at the first 4 months of the pandemic, defined as April 1, 2020, to July 31, 2020. There were statistically significant increases in suicide only in Vienna, Puerto Rico, and Japan.
Igor Galynker, MD, PhD, directs the Suicide Research and Prevention Lab and the Zirinsky Center for Bipolar Disorder at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai. He was not surprised by these findings.
“This is an important study,” Dr. Galynker said. “When it was discovered that U.S. rates went down, it was ‘U.S. specific’ and it was confounded by the fact that there was a dramatic increase in opiate overdose deaths in the U.S., which are not reported as suicides. This study shows that the decrease is international and that the finding in the United States is not related to the spike in overdose deaths.”
The study authors postulated that the drop in suicide may be due to proactive protective measures that societies have put in place, such as improved mental health services and fiscal support to mitigate financial consequences of the pandemic. They explained that “communities might have actively tried to support at-risk individuals, people might have connected in new ways, and some relationships might have been strengthened by households spending more time with each other. For some people, everyday stresses might have been reduced during stay-at-home periods, and for others the collective feeling of ‘we’re all in this together’ might have been beneficial”.
Dr. Galynker noted that, in times of calamity, suicide rates historically go down. “Short-term disasters invoke a fight-or-flight response that mobilizes us and improves our functioning under stress. Those acute responses last 2-3 months and then chronic stress sets in.” He is concerned that there will be increases in suicide rates down the road.
It is possible that individuals who consider social gatherings to be stressful, or who are bullied at school, may have found some relief from social interactions and expectations during the lockdown. “Some people have discovered that they like their families!” Dr. Galynker said.
While suicide rates have gone down, that is not true for all population subsets, and the authors of the Lancet paper noted that they were unable to give breakdowns of rates for different demographics.
Paul Nestadt, MD, is codirector of the Johns Hopkins Anxiety Disorders Clinic and studies suicide, firearms, and opiates. He looked at suicides in Maryland during the first 2 months of the lockdown (March 5, 2020 to May 7, 2020) and found that, Studies in Connecticut and Chicago yielded similar findings. These findings indicate that the overall trends may not reflect the impact on a specific subpopulation.
Dr. Nestadt talked about the disparities of suicide trends. “Communities hit harder by this pandemic in terms of sickness and death may experience more distress in ways that may come out as suicide in the context of other comorbid mood disorders. Also, in line with the idea of suicide as a marker of community- or population-level distress, there’s a general idea that having less of an economic cushion makes the pandemic more of a problem for some than for others. We know that suicide has been correlated to economic distress in general, and it makes sense that it would be community-specific where there is more economic duress.”
It has been a difficult year – not just for the United States, but for the entire world. One thing that may come of it is a unique opportunity to look at how stress and loss affect suicide rates, with the hope that preventive measures will follow.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Every psychiatrist knows that this past year has been a challenge. The COVID-19 pandemic altered our lives, practically overnight, in ways that most of us had never anticipated.
There were months of lockdown. A new work-from-home transition. Recommendations to distance and mask. The destruction and recreation of our social lives. And the end of some industries as we have known them.
Over a year later, many children are still in virtual school. This lifestyle and economic toll do not even begin to include the horror experienced by exhausted and distressed health care workers or by the many who have lost a loved one or survived a hospitalization. National and international anxiety are running high. More people are seeking mental health care, and many of the patients we were caring for prior to the pandemic have been distressed.
Rates of both depression and anxiety are up, and the fear has been that the isolation of lockdowns, with their emotional and economic toll, would also increase suicide rates. Despite the increase in psychiatric symptoms and general distress, initial studies in the United States have shown that overall suicide rates in the early months of the pandemic were lower than in prior years.
A study published in The Lancet looked at suicide data from around the world and compared expected suicides, based on data from past years, with observed suicides. The researchers restricted their analysis to the countries, and regions of countries, where real-time suicide data were available through internet searches. Their paper is based on findings from 21 countries, including 16 high-income countries and five upper-middle–income countries (from regions where data were available). The overall analysis showed a drop in suicides by 5% when looking at the first 4 months of the pandemic, defined as April 1, 2020, to July 31, 2020. There were statistically significant increases in suicide only in Vienna, Puerto Rico, and Japan.
Igor Galynker, MD, PhD, directs the Suicide Research and Prevention Lab and the Zirinsky Center for Bipolar Disorder at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai. He was not surprised by these findings.
“This is an important study,” Dr. Galynker said. “When it was discovered that U.S. rates went down, it was ‘U.S. specific’ and it was confounded by the fact that there was a dramatic increase in opiate overdose deaths in the U.S., which are not reported as suicides. This study shows that the decrease is international and that the finding in the United States is not related to the spike in overdose deaths.”
The study authors postulated that the drop in suicide may be due to proactive protective measures that societies have put in place, such as improved mental health services and fiscal support to mitigate financial consequences of the pandemic. They explained that “communities might have actively tried to support at-risk individuals, people might have connected in new ways, and some relationships might have been strengthened by households spending more time with each other. For some people, everyday stresses might have been reduced during stay-at-home periods, and for others the collective feeling of ‘we’re all in this together’ might have been beneficial”.
Dr. Galynker noted that, in times of calamity, suicide rates historically go down. “Short-term disasters invoke a fight-or-flight response that mobilizes us and improves our functioning under stress. Those acute responses last 2-3 months and then chronic stress sets in.” He is concerned that there will be increases in suicide rates down the road.
It is possible that individuals who consider social gatherings to be stressful, or who are bullied at school, may have found some relief from social interactions and expectations during the lockdown. “Some people have discovered that they like their families!” Dr. Galynker said.
While suicide rates have gone down, that is not true for all population subsets, and the authors of the Lancet paper noted that they were unable to give breakdowns of rates for different demographics.
Paul Nestadt, MD, is codirector of the Johns Hopkins Anxiety Disorders Clinic and studies suicide, firearms, and opiates. He looked at suicides in Maryland during the first 2 months of the lockdown (March 5, 2020 to May 7, 2020) and found that, Studies in Connecticut and Chicago yielded similar findings. These findings indicate that the overall trends may not reflect the impact on a specific subpopulation.
Dr. Nestadt talked about the disparities of suicide trends. “Communities hit harder by this pandemic in terms of sickness and death may experience more distress in ways that may come out as suicide in the context of other comorbid mood disorders. Also, in line with the idea of suicide as a marker of community- or population-level distress, there’s a general idea that having less of an economic cushion makes the pandemic more of a problem for some than for others. We know that suicide has been correlated to economic distress in general, and it makes sense that it would be community-specific where there is more economic duress.”
It has been a difficult year – not just for the United States, but for the entire world. One thing that may come of it is a unique opportunity to look at how stress and loss affect suicide rates, with the hope that preventive measures will follow.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Every psychiatrist knows that this past year has been a challenge. The COVID-19 pandemic altered our lives, practically overnight, in ways that most of us had never anticipated.
There were months of lockdown. A new work-from-home transition. Recommendations to distance and mask. The destruction and recreation of our social lives. And the end of some industries as we have known them.
Over a year later, many children are still in virtual school. This lifestyle and economic toll do not even begin to include the horror experienced by exhausted and distressed health care workers or by the many who have lost a loved one or survived a hospitalization. National and international anxiety are running high. More people are seeking mental health care, and many of the patients we were caring for prior to the pandemic have been distressed.
Rates of both depression and anxiety are up, and the fear has been that the isolation of lockdowns, with their emotional and economic toll, would also increase suicide rates. Despite the increase in psychiatric symptoms and general distress, initial studies in the United States have shown that overall suicide rates in the early months of the pandemic were lower than in prior years.
A study published in The Lancet looked at suicide data from around the world and compared expected suicides, based on data from past years, with observed suicides. The researchers restricted their analysis to the countries, and regions of countries, where real-time suicide data were available through internet searches. Their paper is based on findings from 21 countries, including 16 high-income countries and five upper-middle–income countries (from regions where data were available). The overall analysis showed a drop in suicides by 5% when looking at the first 4 months of the pandemic, defined as April 1, 2020, to July 31, 2020. There were statistically significant increases in suicide only in Vienna, Puerto Rico, and Japan.
Igor Galynker, MD, PhD, directs the Suicide Research and Prevention Lab and the Zirinsky Center for Bipolar Disorder at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai. He was not surprised by these findings.
“This is an important study,” Dr. Galynker said. “When it was discovered that U.S. rates went down, it was ‘U.S. specific’ and it was confounded by the fact that there was a dramatic increase in opiate overdose deaths in the U.S., which are not reported as suicides. This study shows that the decrease is international and that the finding in the United States is not related to the spike in overdose deaths.”
The study authors postulated that the drop in suicide may be due to proactive protective measures that societies have put in place, such as improved mental health services and fiscal support to mitigate financial consequences of the pandemic. They explained that “communities might have actively tried to support at-risk individuals, people might have connected in new ways, and some relationships might have been strengthened by households spending more time with each other. For some people, everyday stresses might have been reduced during stay-at-home periods, and for others the collective feeling of ‘we’re all in this together’ might have been beneficial”.
Dr. Galynker noted that, in times of calamity, suicide rates historically go down. “Short-term disasters invoke a fight-or-flight response that mobilizes us and improves our functioning under stress. Those acute responses last 2-3 months and then chronic stress sets in.” He is concerned that there will be increases in suicide rates down the road.
It is possible that individuals who consider social gatherings to be stressful, or who are bullied at school, may have found some relief from social interactions and expectations during the lockdown. “Some people have discovered that they like their families!” Dr. Galynker said.
While suicide rates have gone down, that is not true for all population subsets, and the authors of the Lancet paper noted that they were unable to give breakdowns of rates for different demographics.
Paul Nestadt, MD, is codirector of the Johns Hopkins Anxiety Disorders Clinic and studies suicide, firearms, and opiates. He looked at suicides in Maryland during the first 2 months of the lockdown (March 5, 2020 to May 7, 2020) and found that, Studies in Connecticut and Chicago yielded similar findings. These findings indicate that the overall trends may not reflect the impact on a specific subpopulation.
Dr. Nestadt talked about the disparities of suicide trends. “Communities hit harder by this pandemic in terms of sickness and death may experience more distress in ways that may come out as suicide in the context of other comorbid mood disorders. Also, in line with the idea of suicide as a marker of community- or population-level distress, there’s a general idea that having less of an economic cushion makes the pandemic more of a problem for some than for others. We know that suicide has been correlated to economic distress in general, and it makes sense that it would be community-specific where there is more economic duress.”
It has been a difficult year – not just for the United States, but for the entire world. One thing that may come of it is a unique opportunity to look at how stress and loss affect suicide rates, with the hope that preventive measures will follow.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Nurses or physicians: Who are at highest suicide risk?
Female nurses are at significantly greater risk of dying by suicide than physicians in findings that contradict previous research suggesting doctors are at greatest risk.
Results of a large retrospective cohort study show that nurses of both sexes were 18% more likely to die by suicide, compared with individuals in the general population. In addition, compared with female physicians, the suicide risk among female nurses was 70% higher.
“The main takeaway is that the risk of suicide among nurses is twice that of the general population and even higher than that among physicians, a population known to be at high risk,” lead author Matthew Davis, MPH, PhD, associate professor, department of systems, populations, and leadership, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, said in an interview.
The study was published online April 14, 2021, in JAMA Psychiatry.
Focus on physicians
Compared with the general public, health care workers are at higher risk for suicide, but most studies of suicide have focused on physicians, Dr. Davis said.
Although “there were several older studies hinting that there might be a difference in suicide risk among nurses,” the data were insufficient to “make an overall conclusion,” he noted.
For that reason, his group “set out to make the best estimates possible” by using a large dataset from the National Violent Death Reporting System of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention spanning the years 2007-2018 and focusing on suicides by individuals aged 30 years and older (n = 159,372 suicides).
Additional workforce data were acquired from the Bureau of Labor Statistics and the Association of Medical Colleges State Physician Workforce Data.
An important area of focus was method of suicide.
“ and know how to use them to overdose, which also increases their risk,” Dr. Davis said in a press release.
Enormous job strain
The researchers identified 2,374 suicides among nurses, 857 suicides among physicians, and 156,141 suicides in the general population.
Compared with the general population, nurses who died by suicide were more likely to be women, less racially diverse (non-Hispanic White), and more likely to have been married.
Rates of suicide were higher among nurses than among the general population, with a sex-adjusted incidence for 2017-2018 of 23.8 per 100,000 versus 20.1 per 100,000 (relative risk, 1.18; 95% confidence interval, 1.03-1.36).
The difference between suicide rates among female nurses and among women in the general population was even more striking: In 2017-2018, the suicide incidence among nurses was 17.1 per 100,000 versus 8.6 per 100,000 in the population at large (RR, 1.99; 95% CI, 1.82-2.18).
“In absolute terms, being a female nurse was associated with an additional 8.5 suicides per 100,000 (7.0-10.0), compared with the general population,” the authors reported.
In contrast, overall physician suicide rates were not statistically different from those of the general population (RR, 1.01; 95% CI, 0.79-1.30) except during the period 2011-2012 (11.7 per 100,000; 95% CI, 6.6-16.8 vs. 7.5 per 100,000; 95% CI, 7.2-7.7).
Clinicians of both sexes were more likely to use poisoning and less likely to use a firearm, compared with individuals in the general population who died by suicide. For example, 24.9% (23.5%-26.4%) of nurse suicides involved poisoning, compared to 16.8% (16.6%-17.0%) of suicides in the general population.
Toxicology reports showed that the presence of antidepressants, benzodiazepines, barbiturates, and opiates was more common in clinician suicides than suicides in the general population.
Dr. Davis suggested the higher risk for suicide among nurses, compared with physicians, might be attributed to “high job demands – for example, nurses provide the majority of bedside care, work long shifts in stressful environments, and have less autonomy.
“Health care workers and friends and family of health care workers need to be aware of mental health issues and suicide risk that can be associated with the job and, most importantly, recognize those who may be struggling and encourage them to get help by calling the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline,” he said.
Other potential contributors include “avoidance of mental health services due to stigma and greater access to the means to commit suicide via medication,” Dr. Davis noted.
Benchmark research
Commenting on the study, Constance Guille, MD, MSCR, professor in the department of psychiatry and behavioral science, Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, noted that nurses are “predominantly female” and that women tend to be twice as likely as men to experience depression, which is a major risk factor for suicide. Thus, this population is particularly vulnerable.
One reason the investigators did not find that suicide rates were higher among physicians is that the health care professionals whom the researchers studied were older than 30 years. Thus, the study “excludes younger physicians in early practice or training, who likely do have higher suicide rates than the general population,” she suggested.
Dr. Guille, who is the author of an accompanying editorial and was not involved with the study, recommended “taking a public health approach, implementing preventative interventions, identifying people at high risk, providing treatment for health care professionals struggling with mental health problems, and destigmatizing help seeking.”
She encouraged clinicians to “reach out to colleagues who are struggling in a way to help them seek services and check in with them because it’s helpful when peers reach out.”
Dr. Davis noted that these disturbing trends will likely increase in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic. “The pandemic has placed enormous strain on the health care workforce, and we fear this may have made the situation even worse.”
The current findings “will serve as a benchmark for future comparisons,” he said.
No source of funding for the study was reported. Dr. Davis has received consulting fees as a statistical reviewer for the journal Regional Anesthesia and Pain Medicine. His coauthors disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Guille has received grants from the National Institute on Drug Abuse, the American Foundation on Suicide Prevention, and the Duke Endowment and serves on the advisory board and speakers bureau of Sage Therapeutics.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Female nurses are at significantly greater risk of dying by suicide than physicians in findings that contradict previous research suggesting doctors are at greatest risk.
Results of a large retrospective cohort study show that nurses of both sexes were 18% more likely to die by suicide, compared with individuals in the general population. In addition, compared with female physicians, the suicide risk among female nurses was 70% higher.
“The main takeaway is that the risk of suicide among nurses is twice that of the general population and even higher than that among physicians, a population known to be at high risk,” lead author Matthew Davis, MPH, PhD, associate professor, department of systems, populations, and leadership, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, said in an interview.
The study was published online April 14, 2021, in JAMA Psychiatry.
Focus on physicians
Compared with the general public, health care workers are at higher risk for suicide, but most studies of suicide have focused on physicians, Dr. Davis said.
Although “there were several older studies hinting that there might be a difference in suicide risk among nurses,” the data were insufficient to “make an overall conclusion,” he noted.
For that reason, his group “set out to make the best estimates possible” by using a large dataset from the National Violent Death Reporting System of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention spanning the years 2007-2018 and focusing on suicides by individuals aged 30 years and older (n = 159,372 suicides).
Additional workforce data were acquired from the Bureau of Labor Statistics and the Association of Medical Colleges State Physician Workforce Data.
An important area of focus was method of suicide.
“ and know how to use them to overdose, which also increases their risk,” Dr. Davis said in a press release.
Enormous job strain
The researchers identified 2,374 suicides among nurses, 857 suicides among physicians, and 156,141 suicides in the general population.
Compared with the general population, nurses who died by suicide were more likely to be women, less racially diverse (non-Hispanic White), and more likely to have been married.
Rates of suicide were higher among nurses than among the general population, with a sex-adjusted incidence for 2017-2018 of 23.8 per 100,000 versus 20.1 per 100,000 (relative risk, 1.18; 95% confidence interval, 1.03-1.36).
The difference between suicide rates among female nurses and among women in the general population was even more striking: In 2017-2018, the suicide incidence among nurses was 17.1 per 100,000 versus 8.6 per 100,000 in the population at large (RR, 1.99; 95% CI, 1.82-2.18).
“In absolute terms, being a female nurse was associated with an additional 8.5 suicides per 100,000 (7.0-10.0), compared with the general population,” the authors reported.
In contrast, overall physician suicide rates were not statistically different from those of the general population (RR, 1.01; 95% CI, 0.79-1.30) except during the period 2011-2012 (11.7 per 100,000; 95% CI, 6.6-16.8 vs. 7.5 per 100,000; 95% CI, 7.2-7.7).
Clinicians of both sexes were more likely to use poisoning and less likely to use a firearm, compared with individuals in the general population who died by suicide. For example, 24.9% (23.5%-26.4%) of nurse suicides involved poisoning, compared to 16.8% (16.6%-17.0%) of suicides in the general population.
Toxicology reports showed that the presence of antidepressants, benzodiazepines, barbiturates, and opiates was more common in clinician suicides than suicides in the general population.
Dr. Davis suggested the higher risk for suicide among nurses, compared with physicians, might be attributed to “high job demands – for example, nurses provide the majority of bedside care, work long shifts in stressful environments, and have less autonomy.
“Health care workers and friends and family of health care workers need to be aware of mental health issues and suicide risk that can be associated with the job and, most importantly, recognize those who may be struggling and encourage them to get help by calling the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline,” he said.
Other potential contributors include “avoidance of mental health services due to stigma and greater access to the means to commit suicide via medication,” Dr. Davis noted.
Benchmark research
Commenting on the study, Constance Guille, MD, MSCR, professor in the department of psychiatry and behavioral science, Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, noted that nurses are “predominantly female” and that women tend to be twice as likely as men to experience depression, which is a major risk factor for suicide. Thus, this population is particularly vulnerable.
One reason the investigators did not find that suicide rates were higher among physicians is that the health care professionals whom the researchers studied were older than 30 years. Thus, the study “excludes younger physicians in early practice or training, who likely do have higher suicide rates than the general population,” she suggested.
Dr. Guille, who is the author of an accompanying editorial and was not involved with the study, recommended “taking a public health approach, implementing preventative interventions, identifying people at high risk, providing treatment for health care professionals struggling with mental health problems, and destigmatizing help seeking.”
She encouraged clinicians to “reach out to colleagues who are struggling in a way to help them seek services and check in with them because it’s helpful when peers reach out.”
Dr. Davis noted that these disturbing trends will likely increase in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic. “The pandemic has placed enormous strain on the health care workforce, and we fear this may have made the situation even worse.”
The current findings “will serve as a benchmark for future comparisons,” he said.
No source of funding for the study was reported. Dr. Davis has received consulting fees as a statistical reviewer for the journal Regional Anesthesia and Pain Medicine. His coauthors disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Guille has received grants from the National Institute on Drug Abuse, the American Foundation on Suicide Prevention, and the Duke Endowment and serves on the advisory board and speakers bureau of Sage Therapeutics.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Female nurses are at significantly greater risk of dying by suicide than physicians in findings that contradict previous research suggesting doctors are at greatest risk.
Results of a large retrospective cohort study show that nurses of both sexes were 18% more likely to die by suicide, compared with individuals in the general population. In addition, compared with female physicians, the suicide risk among female nurses was 70% higher.
“The main takeaway is that the risk of suicide among nurses is twice that of the general population and even higher than that among physicians, a population known to be at high risk,” lead author Matthew Davis, MPH, PhD, associate professor, department of systems, populations, and leadership, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, said in an interview.
The study was published online April 14, 2021, in JAMA Psychiatry.
Focus on physicians
Compared with the general public, health care workers are at higher risk for suicide, but most studies of suicide have focused on physicians, Dr. Davis said.
Although “there were several older studies hinting that there might be a difference in suicide risk among nurses,” the data were insufficient to “make an overall conclusion,” he noted.
For that reason, his group “set out to make the best estimates possible” by using a large dataset from the National Violent Death Reporting System of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention spanning the years 2007-2018 and focusing on suicides by individuals aged 30 years and older (n = 159,372 suicides).
Additional workforce data were acquired from the Bureau of Labor Statistics and the Association of Medical Colleges State Physician Workforce Data.
An important area of focus was method of suicide.
“ and know how to use them to overdose, which also increases their risk,” Dr. Davis said in a press release.
Enormous job strain
The researchers identified 2,374 suicides among nurses, 857 suicides among physicians, and 156,141 suicides in the general population.
Compared with the general population, nurses who died by suicide were more likely to be women, less racially diverse (non-Hispanic White), and more likely to have been married.
Rates of suicide were higher among nurses than among the general population, with a sex-adjusted incidence for 2017-2018 of 23.8 per 100,000 versus 20.1 per 100,000 (relative risk, 1.18; 95% confidence interval, 1.03-1.36).
The difference between suicide rates among female nurses and among women in the general population was even more striking: In 2017-2018, the suicide incidence among nurses was 17.1 per 100,000 versus 8.6 per 100,000 in the population at large (RR, 1.99; 95% CI, 1.82-2.18).
“In absolute terms, being a female nurse was associated with an additional 8.5 suicides per 100,000 (7.0-10.0), compared with the general population,” the authors reported.
In contrast, overall physician suicide rates were not statistically different from those of the general population (RR, 1.01; 95% CI, 0.79-1.30) except during the period 2011-2012 (11.7 per 100,000; 95% CI, 6.6-16.8 vs. 7.5 per 100,000; 95% CI, 7.2-7.7).
Clinicians of both sexes were more likely to use poisoning and less likely to use a firearm, compared with individuals in the general population who died by suicide. For example, 24.9% (23.5%-26.4%) of nurse suicides involved poisoning, compared to 16.8% (16.6%-17.0%) of suicides in the general population.
Toxicology reports showed that the presence of antidepressants, benzodiazepines, barbiturates, and opiates was more common in clinician suicides than suicides in the general population.
Dr. Davis suggested the higher risk for suicide among nurses, compared with physicians, might be attributed to “high job demands – for example, nurses provide the majority of bedside care, work long shifts in stressful environments, and have less autonomy.
“Health care workers and friends and family of health care workers need to be aware of mental health issues and suicide risk that can be associated with the job and, most importantly, recognize those who may be struggling and encourage them to get help by calling the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline,” he said.
Other potential contributors include “avoidance of mental health services due to stigma and greater access to the means to commit suicide via medication,” Dr. Davis noted.
Benchmark research
Commenting on the study, Constance Guille, MD, MSCR, professor in the department of psychiatry and behavioral science, Medical University of South Carolina, Charleston, noted that nurses are “predominantly female” and that women tend to be twice as likely as men to experience depression, which is a major risk factor for suicide. Thus, this population is particularly vulnerable.
One reason the investigators did not find that suicide rates were higher among physicians is that the health care professionals whom the researchers studied were older than 30 years. Thus, the study “excludes younger physicians in early practice or training, who likely do have higher suicide rates than the general population,” she suggested.
Dr. Guille, who is the author of an accompanying editorial and was not involved with the study, recommended “taking a public health approach, implementing preventative interventions, identifying people at high risk, providing treatment for health care professionals struggling with mental health problems, and destigmatizing help seeking.”
She encouraged clinicians to “reach out to colleagues who are struggling in a way to help them seek services and check in with them because it’s helpful when peers reach out.”
Dr. Davis noted that these disturbing trends will likely increase in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic. “The pandemic has placed enormous strain on the health care workforce, and we fear this may have made the situation even worse.”
The current findings “will serve as a benchmark for future comparisons,” he said.
No source of funding for the study was reported. Dr. Davis has received consulting fees as a statistical reviewer for the journal Regional Anesthesia and Pain Medicine. His coauthors disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Guille has received grants from the National Institute on Drug Abuse, the American Foundation on Suicide Prevention, and the Duke Endowment and serves on the advisory board and speakers bureau of Sage Therapeutics.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Psilocybin matches SSRI for moderate to severe depression in phase 2 study
The psychedelic drug psilocybin performed just as well as a widely used antidepressant in easing the symptoms of major depression, and outperformed the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor on a range of secondary measures, results of a small-scale, phase 2 study show.
In a 6-week trial that included 59 patients with moderate to severe depression, there was no significant difference between the impact of high-dose psilocybin on the study’s primary yardstick – the 16-item Quick Inventory of Depressive Symptomatology–Self-Report – and that of the SSRI escitalopram.
Patients in the psilocybin cohort did show a much more rapid improvement in the main measure than those taking escitalopram, but this gap narrowed over the span of the trial until it was no longer statistically significant.
“It’s very clear that psilocybin therapy has a faster antidepressant onset than escitalopram. And psilocybin was consistently superior on the ancillary outcomes, but it wasn’t different on the primary,” the study’s lead author Robin Carhart-Harris, PhD, head of the Centre for Psychedelic Research at Imperial College London, told reporters attending a news briefing.
Results of the phase 2, double-blind, randomized study were published online April 15, 2021, in the New England Journal of Medicine.
Secondary outcomes
Investigators found that psilocybin bested escitalopram in several secondary outcomes, including feelings of well-being, the ability to express emotion, and social functioning.
Still, Larger and longer trials are required.
“But the secondaries were highly suggestive – tantalizingly suggestive – of the potential superiority of psilocybin therapy to treat not just depression, but these ancillary symptoms,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said.
After they were selected from 1000 screening calls, the 59 patients were randomly assigned to receive psilocybin and 29 patients to receive escitalopram. Every procedure was mirrored in both groups.
At the 2 “dosing days” scheduled during the 6-week trial, all patients received an oral dose of psilocybin in a clinical setting. However, the escitalopram group received 1 mg versus 25 mg for the psilocybin group.
“And the reason why we did that is because we can standardize expectation. We say to everyone, you will receive psilocybin. It’s just the dosage might differ,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said.
He conceded that most patients – though not all – were able to determine which group they were in following the first dosing day based on the drugs’ effects.
Supportive therapy
Following the oral dose, volunteers would spend 6 hours reclining on a bed, surrounded by pillows and a curated selection of music and supported by two “guides” or therapists. The guides were on hand to support patients through their psychedelic experience but did not chat or otherwise interfere.
The next day, patients attended a session with their two therapists to talk through their experiences.
Between dosing days, patients in the high-dose psilocybin group would take daily capsules containing a placebo. The low-dose group received a course of escitalopram.
The incidence of adverse effects was similar in each group. None was serious.
The study’s principal investigator David Nutt, DM, FRCP, FRCPsych, FSB, FMedSci, the Edmond J. Safra Chair in Neuropsychopharmacology at Imperial College London, said that many patients in the psilocybin group reported revelatory insights during dosing days.
“Very often, for the first time, people have actually come to understand why they’re depressed,” he said.
The word psychedelic, coined in 1957 by psychiatrist Humphry Osmond, derives from the Greek words “psyche,” which means “soul” or “mind,” and “delos,” which means “reveal.”
'Profound experiences'
Certainly, patients in the psilocybin group received enough of the compound to induce what Dr. Carhart-Harris called “very profound experiences.”
The researchers said that the results, while promising, should not encourage anyone to self-medicate with psychedelic substances, which are still illegal in most jurisdictions.
“I view this very much – and I think most colleagues do as well – as a combination treatment,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said. “And we strongly believe that the psychotherapy component is as important as the drug action.”
He said the study was inspired by his earlier research into the effects of psilocybin on brain function along with a small open-label trial of the compound’s effects on treatment-resistant depression published in The Lancet Psychiatry in July 2016.
The team stressed that the cohort and the absence of an entirely placebo group limit conclusions that can be drawn about either treatment.
Dr. Carhart-Harris also said he would have liked a more diverse group of patients. Participants were mostly White and mostly male, with a mean age of 41, and a high educational attainment. Of the 59 enrolled, only 34% were women.
Volunteers underwent functional MRI scans at the start and end of the trial. The team will now analyze these results to gain insight into impact on brain function and will gather and assess follow-up data. They also plan a trial examining the effect of psilocybin on anorexia.
“I think it’s fair to say the results signal hope that we may be looking at a promising alternative treatment for depression,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said. “It’s often said that we need novel treatments to treat depression because too many new drugs are what [are] sometimes called ‘me too’ drugs: They work in the same way as drugs that have preceded them. Psilocybin therapy seems to work fundamentally in a different way to SSRIs.”
Unanswered questions
In an accompanying editorial, Jeffrey A. Lieberman, MD, Lawrence C. Kolb Professor and chairman of the department of psychiatry at Columbia University, New York, warned that there remain many unanswered questions about using psychedelics for medical purposes.
They were considered potential miracle cures for a range of mental disorders in the 1960s, only to be banned in 1970s America because of “the perceived dangers and corrosive effects” on society, he wrote.
“The Carhart-Harris study notwithstanding, we are still awaiting definitive proof of the therapeutic efficacy of psychedelics and their capacity to improve the human condition,” Dr. Lieberman wrote. “Should the mind-bending properties of the psychedelics prove to be the panacea their proponents professed, informed consent and safety standards must be established. How do we explain mystical, ineffable, and potentially transformative experiences to patients, particularly if they are in a vulnerable state of mind? What is their potential for addiction?”
David Owens, MD, PhD, professor emeritus of clinical psychiatry at the University of Edinburgh, described Lieberman’s comments as “spot on.”
“This is a small, exploratory study with numbers too small to analyze fully,” he said. “The population is not recruited randomly from, for example, consecutive admissions or presentations, and screening of volunteers was by telephone, not face to face. One might say this is an ‘interested’ population, willing to go for novel approaches and with no placebo group, the extent of the placebo response cannot be assessed.”
The study was funded by the Alexander Mosley Charitable Trust and the founders of the Centre for Psychedelic Research. Infrastructure support was provided by the National Institute for Health Research Imperial Biomedical Research Centre and NIHR Imperial Clinical Research Facility.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
The psychedelic drug psilocybin performed just as well as a widely used antidepressant in easing the symptoms of major depression, and outperformed the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor on a range of secondary measures, results of a small-scale, phase 2 study show.
In a 6-week trial that included 59 patients with moderate to severe depression, there was no significant difference between the impact of high-dose psilocybin on the study’s primary yardstick – the 16-item Quick Inventory of Depressive Symptomatology–Self-Report – and that of the SSRI escitalopram.
Patients in the psilocybin cohort did show a much more rapid improvement in the main measure than those taking escitalopram, but this gap narrowed over the span of the trial until it was no longer statistically significant.
“It’s very clear that psilocybin therapy has a faster antidepressant onset than escitalopram. And psilocybin was consistently superior on the ancillary outcomes, but it wasn’t different on the primary,” the study’s lead author Robin Carhart-Harris, PhD, head of the Centre for Psychedelic Research at Imperial College London, told reporters attending a news briefing.
Results of the phase 2, double-blind, randomized study were published online April 15, 2021, in the New England Journal of Medicine.
Secondary outcomes
Investigators found that psilocybin bested escitalopram in several secondary outcomes, including feelings of well-being, the ability to express emotion, and social functioning.
Still, Larger and longer trials are required.
“But the secondaries were highly suggestive – tantalizingly suggestive – of the potential superiority of psilocybin therapy to treat not just depression, but these ancillary symptoms,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said.
After they were selected from 1000 screening calls, the 59 patients were randomly assigned to receive psilocybin and 29 patients to receive escitalopram. Every procedure was mirrored in both groups.
At the 2 “dosing days” scheduled during the 6-week trial, all patients received an oral dose of psilocybin in a clinical setting. However, the escitalopram group received 1 mg versus 25 mg for the psilocybin group.
“And the reason why we did that is because we can standardize expectation. We say to everyone, you will receive psilocybin. It’s just the dosage might differ,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said.
He conceded that most patients – though not all – were able to determine which group they were in following the first dosing day based on the drugs’ effects.
Supportive therapy
Following the oral dose, volunteers would spend 6 hours reclining on a bed, surrounded by pillows and a curated selection of music and supported by two “guides” or therapists. The guides were on hand to support patients through their psychedelic experience but did not chat or otherwise interfere.
The next day, patients attended a session with their two therapists to talk through their experiences.
Between dosing days, patients in the high-dose psilocybin group would take daily capsules containing a placebo. The low-dose group received a course of escitalopram.
The incidence of adverse effects was similar in each group. None was serious.
The study’s principal investigator David Nutt, DM, FRCP, FRCPsych, FSB, FMedSci, the Edmond J. Safra Chair in Neuropsychopharmacology at Imperial College London, said that many patients in the psilocybin group reported revelatory insights during dosing days.
“Very often, for the first time, people have actually come to understand why they’re depressed,” he said.
The word psychedelic, coined in 1957 by psychiatrist Humphry Osmond, derives from the Greek words “psyche,” which means “soul” or “mind,” and “delos,” which means “reveal.”
'Profound experiences'
Certainly, patients in the psilocybin group received enough of the compound to induce what Dr. Carhart-Harris called “very profound experiences.”
The researchers said that the results, while promising, should not encourage anyone to self-medicate with psychedelic substances, which are still illegal in most jurisdictions.
“I view this very much – and I think most colleagues do as well – as a combination treatment,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said. “And we strongly believe that the psychotherapy component is as important as the drug action.”
He said the study was inspired by his earlier research into the effects of psilocybin on brain function along with a small open-label trial of the compound’s effects on treatment-resistant depression published in The Lancet Psychiatry in July 2016.
The team stressed that the cohort and the absence of an entirely placebo group limit conclusions that can be drawn about either treatment.
Dr. Carhart-Harris also said he would have liked a more diverse group of patients. Participants were mostly White and mostly male, with a mean age of 41, and a high educational attainment. Of the 59 enrolled, only 34% were women.
Volunteers underwent functional MRI scans at the start and end of the trial. The team will now analyze these results to gain insight into impact on brain function and will gather and assess follow-up data. They also plan a trial examining the effect of psilocybin on anorexia.
“I think it’s fair to say the results signal hope that we may be looking at a promising alternative treatment for depression,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said. “It’s often said that we need novel treatments to treat depression because too many new drugs are what [are] sometimes called ‘me too’ drugs: They work in the same way as drugs that have preceded them. Psilocybin therapy seems to work fundamentally in a different way to SSRIs.”
Unanswered questions
In an accompanying editorial, Jeffrey A. Lieberman, MD, Lawrence C. Kolb Professor and chairman of the department of psychiatry at Columbia University, New York, warned that there remain many unanswered questions about using psychedelics for medical purposes.
They were considered potential miracle cures for a range of mental disorders in the 1960s, only to be banned in 1970s America because of “the perceived dangers and corrosive effects” on society, he wrote.
“The Carhart-Harris study notwithstanding, we are still awaiting definitive proof of the therapeutic efficacy of psychedelics and their capacity to improve the human condition,” Dr. Lieberman wrote. “Should the mind-bending properties of the psychedelics prove to be the panacea their proponents professed, informed consent and safety standards must be established. How do we explain mystical, ineffable, and potentially transformative experiences to patients, particularly if they are in a vulnerable state of mind? What is their potential for addiction?”
David Owens, MD, PhD, professor emeritus of clinical psychiatry at the University of Edinburgh, described Lieberman’s comments as “spot on.”
“This is a small, exploratory study with numbers too small to analyze fully,” he said. “The population is not recruited randomly from, for example, consecutive admissions or presentations, and screening of volunteers was by telephone, not face to face. One might say this is an ‘interested’ population, willing to go for novel approaches and with no placebo group, the extent of the placebo response cannot be assessed.”
The study was funded by the Alexander Mosley Charitable Trust and the founders of the Centre for Psychedelic Research. Infrastructure support was provided by the National Institute for Health Research Imperial Biomedical Research Centre and NIHR Imperial Clinical Research Facility.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
The psychedelic drug psilocybin performed just as well as a widely used antidepressant in easing the symptoms of major depression, and outperformed the selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor on a range of secondary measures, results of a small-scale, phase 2 study show.
In a 6-week trial that included 59 patients with moderate to severe depression, there was no significant difference between the impact of high-dose psilocybin on the study’s primary yardstick – the 16-item Quick Inventory of Depressive Symptomatology–Self-Report – and that of the SSRI escitalopram.
Patients in the psilocybin cohort did show a much more rapid improvement in the main measure than those taking escitalopram, but this gap narrowed over the span of the trial until it was no longer statistically significant.
“It’s very clear that psilocybin therapy has a faster antidepressant onset than escitalopram. And psilocybin was consistently superior on the ancillary outcomes, but it wasn’t different on the primary,” the study’s lead author Robin Carhart-Harris, PhD, head of the Centre for Psychedelic Research at Imperial College London, told reporters attending a news briefing.
Results of the phase 2, double-blind, randomized study were published online April 15, 2021, in the New England Journal of Medicine.
Secondary outcomes
Investigators found that psilocybin bested escitalopram in several secondary outcomes, including feelings of well-being, the ability to express emotion, and social functioning.
Still, Larger and longer trials are required.
“But the secondaries were highly suggestive – tantalizingly suggestive – of the potential superiority of psilocybin therapy to treat not just depression, but these ancillary symptoms,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said.
After they were selected from 1000 screening calls, the 59 patients were randomly assigned to receive psilocybin and 29 patients to receive escitalopram. Every procedure was mirrored in both groups.
At the 2 “dosing days” scheduled during the 6-week trial, all patients received an oral dose of psilocybin in a clinical setting. However, the escitalopram group received 1 mg versus 25 mg for the psilocybin group.
“And the reason why we did that is because we can standardize expectation. We say to everyone, you will receive psilocybin. It’s just the dosage might differ,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said.
He conceded that most patients – though not all – were able to determine which group they were in following the first dosing day based on the drugs’ effects.
Supportive therapy
Following the oral dose, volunteers would spend 6 hours reclining on a bed, surrounded by pillows and a curated selection of music and supported by two “guides” or therapists. The guides were on hand to support patients through their psychedelic experience but did not chat or otherwise interfere.
The next day, patients attended a session with their two therapists to talk through their experiences.
Between dosing days, patients in the high-dose psilocybin group would take daily capsules containing a placebo. The low-dose group received a course of escitalopram.
The incidence of adverse effects was similar in each group. None was serious.
The study’s principal investigator David Nutt, DM, FRCP, FRCPsych, FSB, FMedSci, the Edmond J. Safra Chair in Neuropsychopharmacology at Imperial College London, said that many patients in the psilocybin group reported revelatory insights during dosing days.
“Very often, for the first time, people have actually come to understand why they’re depressed,” he said.
The word psychedelic, coined in 1957 by psychiatrist Humphry Osmond, derives from the Greek words “psyche,” which means “soul” or “mind,” and “delos,” which means “reveal.”
'Profound experiences'
Certainly, patients in the psilocybin group received enough of the compound to induce what Dr. Carhart-Harris called “very profound experiences.”
The researchers said that the results, while promising, should not encourage anyone to self-medicate with psychedelic substances, which are still illegal in most jurisdictions.
“I view this very much – and I think most colleagues do as well – as a combination treatment,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said. “And we strongly believe that the psychotherapy component is as important as the drug action.”
He said the study was inspired by his earlier research into the effects of psilocybin on brain function along with a small open-label trial of the compound’s effects on treatment-resistant depression published in The Lancet Psychiatry in July 2016.
The team stressed that the cohort and the absence of an entirely placebo group limit conclusions that can be drawn about either treatment.
Dr. Carhart-Harris also said he would have liked a more diverse group of patients. Participants were mostly White and mostly male, with a mean age of 41, and a high educational attainment. Of the 59 enrolled, only 34% were women.
Volunteers underwent functional MRI scans at the start and end of the trial. The team will now analyze these results to gain insight into impact on brain function and will gather and assess follow-up data. They also plan a trial examining the effect of psilocybin on anorexia.
“I think it’s fair to say the results signal hope that we may be looking at a promising alternative treatment for depression,” Dr. Carhart-Harris said. “It’s often said that we need novel treatments to treat depression because too many new drugs are what [are] sometimes called ‘me too’ drugs: They work in the same way as drugs that have preceded them. Psilocybin therapy seems to work fundamentally in a different way to SSRIs.”
Unanswered questions
In an accompanying editorial, Jeffrey A. Lieberman, MD, Lawrence C. Kolb Professor and chairman of the department of psychiatry at Columbia University, New York, warned that there remain many unanswered questions about using psychedelics for medical purposes.
They were considered potential miracle cures for a range of mental disorders in the 1960s, only to be banned in 1970s America because of “the perceived dangers and corrosive effects” on society, he wrote.
“The Carhart-Harris study notwithstanding, we are still awaiting definitive proof of the therapeutic efficacy of psychedelics and their capacity to improve the human condition,” Dr. Lieberman wrote. “Should the mind-bending properties of the psychedelics prove to be the panacea their proponents professed, informed consent and safety standards must be established. How do we explain mystical, ineffable, and potentially transformative experiences to patients, particularly if they are in a vulnerable state of mind? What is their potential for addiction?”
David Owens, MD, PhD, professor emeritus of clinical psychiatry at the University of Edinburgh, described Lieberman’s comments as “spot on.”
“This is a small, exploratory study with numbers too small to analyze fully,” he said. “The population is not recruited randomly from, for example, consecutive admissions or presentations, and screening of volunteers was by telephone, not face to face. One might say this is an ‘interested’ population, willing to go for novel approaches and with no placebo group, the extent of the placebo response cannot be assessed.”
The study was funded by the Alexander Mosley Charitable Trust and the founders of the Centre for Psychedelic Research. Infrastructure support was provided by the National Institute for Health Research Imperial Biomedical Research Centre and NIHR Imperial Clinical Research Facility.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Helping psychiatric patients heal holistically
When I was asked to write a regular “Holistic Mental Health” column, I decided to write about the Herculean forces that must come together to create a holistic psychiatrist – someone who specializes in helping patients off their medications rather than on.
My journey began when I told a training psychiatrist that I wanted to stop being a psychiatrist. It was a year after my daughter was born, and I had started my third year of adult psychiatry residency at the University of Maryland in Baltimore. I was stressed and exhausted from working on inpatient psychiatric wards for 2 years, countless unpleasant nights on call, and additional sleepless nights caring for an infant.
I told the training psychiatrist that life wasn’t worth living. Was I suicidal, he asked? I laughed bitterly: “All the time!” Once he heard the S-word, he wanted me to take an antidepressant. I finally gave in and began taking Zoloft 25 mg every morning. Within a week, my angst disappeared; but 5 years, another child, and a fellowship later, I was still taking Zoloft. Why? Without much thought, I stopped it. A month later, I found myself brooding on the sofa, numb with depression, and feeling astonishingly suicidal. This “depression” led me to restart my Zoloft. In a week, my mood normalized. I did this on and off for about a year until a light bulb went off: This can’t be depression. It’s withdrawal. I’ve become dependent on Zoloft! Once I realized this, I began taking some St. John’s wort, an herbal alternative that was supposed to help with depression. I used cheaper brands and discovered that brands do matter, because the cheaper ones didn’t work. Through my haphazard exploration of natural alternatives, I came off Zoloft completely. During this time, I developed greater empathy for my patients, openness to natural alternatives, appreciation for supplement quality, and learned about psychotropic withdrawal. Most importantly, I came to understand a patient’s need to be free.
Five years later, in 2002, I had a thriving, but conventional, private practice. Instead of being content, however, I once again wanted to quit psychiatry. Medicating patients felt unrewarding, but I didn’t have another approach. Simultaneously, my practice was filling up with chronically ill, heavily medicated, bipolar patients. Their intense suffering combined with my discontent with psychiatry made me desperate for something better. In this ripe setting, the mother of a patient with bipolar disorder casually mentioned a supplement called EMPower by Truehope that lessened bipolar symptoms. Though my withdrawal from Zoloft allowed me to be more open to holistic approaches, I waited 3 months before calling. I used the supplement for the first time to help a heavily medicated bipolar patient in her 30’s, whose Depakote side effects caused her to wear a diaper, lack any emotions, and suffer severe tremors. Once I made this decision to walk down this new path, I never went back. With guidance from the company, I used this supplement to help many patients lower their medications. At the time, I wondered whether EMPower would be the solution for all my patients. The simplicity and ease of one supplement approach for all mental illnesses appealed to my laziness, so I continued down the holistic path.
Hundreds of supplements, glandulars, essential oils, and homeopathic remedies later, I learned that every patient requires their own unique approach. A year into using the supplement, I discovered that, if patients took too much of it, their old symptoms would reappear. Eventually, I moved out of my comfort zone and tried other supplements. Subsequently, the universe orchestrated two people to tell me about the miraculous outcomes from “thought-field therapy,” an energy-medicine technique. I began exploring “energy medicine” through the support and instruction of a holistic psychotherapist, Mark Bottinick, LCSW-C. Soon, I was connecting the dots between emotional freedom technique and immediate positive changes. Energy medicine allowed me to heal problems without using a pill! I felt as if I had arrived at Solla Sollew by the banks of the Beautiful River Wah-Hoo.
As I discovered and attended conferences in holistic medicine, I got certified in integrative medicine and became a Reiki master. Even as a novice in holistic medicine, I began to experience patients crying with joy, rather than sadness. One psychotic patient got better on some supplements and got a new job in just 2 weeks.
On Feb. 17, 2021, I launched a podcast called “The Holistic Psychiatrist,” with interviews of patients, conversations with practitioners, and insights from me. Of the initial interviews, two of the three patients had bipolar disorder, and were able to safely and successfully withdraw from many medications. They are no longer patients and are free to move on with their lives. A patient who smoothly and successfully lowered six psychiatric medications will be sharing her wisdom and healing journey soon. A naturopathic doctor will also be sharing his insights and successes. He once was a suicidal high school student failing his classes, depressed and anxious, and dependent on marijuana. His recovery occurred more than a decade ago in my holistic practice.
These patients are living proof that holistic approaches can be very powerful and effective. They demonstrate that chronicity may reflect inadequate treatment and not a definition of disease. Over the course of this Holistic Mental Health column, I want to share many incredible healing journeys and insights on holistic psychiatry. I hope that you will be open to this new paradigm and begin your own holistic journey.
Dr. Lee is a psychiatrist with a solo private practice in Lehi, Utah. She integrates functional/orthomolecular medicine and mind/body/energy medicine in her work with patients. Contact her at holisticpsychiatrist.com. She has no conflicts of interest.
When I was asked to write a regular “Holistic Mental Health” column, I decided to write about the Herculean forces that must come together to create a holistic psychiatrist – someone who specializes in helping patients off their medications rather than on.
My journey began when I told a training psychiatrist that I wanted to stop being a psychiatrist. It was a year after my daughter was born, and I had started my third year of adult psychiatry residency at the University of Maryland in Baltimore. I was stressed and exhausted from working on inpatient psychiatric wards for 2 years, countless unpleasant nights on call, and additional sleepless nights caring for an infant.
I told the training psychiatrist that life wasn’t worth living. Was I suicidal, he asked? I laughed bitterly: “All the time!” Once he heard the S-word, he wanted me to take an antidepressant. I finally gave in and began taking Zoloft 25 mg every morning. Within a week, my angst disappeared; but 5 years, another child, and a fellowship later, I was still taking Zoloft. Why? Without much thought, I stopped it. A month later, I found myself brooding on the sofa, numb with depression, and feeling astonishingly suicidal. This “depression” led me to restart my Zoloft. In a week, my mood normalized. I did this on and off for about a year until a light bulb went off: This can’t be depression. It’s withdrawal. I’ve become dependent on Zoloft! Once I realized this, I began taking some St. John’s wort, an herbal alternative that was supposed to help with depression. I used cheaper brands and discovered that brands do matter, because the cheaper ones didn’t work. Through my haphazard exploration of natural alternatives, I came off Zoloft completely. During this time, I developed greater empathy for my patients, openness to natural alternatives, appreciation for supplement quality, and learned about psychotropic withdrawal. Most importantly, I came to understand a patient’s need to be free.
Five years later, in 2002, I had a thriving, but conventional, private practice. Instead of being content, however, I once again wanted to quit psychiatry. Medicating patients felt unrewarding, but I didn’t have another approach. Simultaneously, my practice was filling up with chronically ill, heavily medicated, bipolar patients. Their intense suffering combined with my discontent with psychiatry made me desperate for something better. In this ripe setting, the mother of a patient with bipolar disorder casually mentioned a supplement called EMPower by Truehope that lessened bipolar symptoms. Though my withdrawal from Zoloft allowed me to be more open to holistic approaches, I waited 3 months before calling. I used the supplement for the first time to help a heavily medicated bipolar patient in her 30’s, whose Depakote side effects caused her to wear a diaper, lack any emotions, and suffer severe tremors. Once I made this decision to walk down this new path, I never went back. With guidance from the company, I used this supplement to help many patients lower their medications. At the time, I wondered whether EMPower would be the solution for all my patients. The simplicity and ease of one supplement approach for all mental illnesses appealed to my laziness, so I continued down the holistic path.
Hundreds of supplements, glandulars, essential oils, and homeopathic remedies later, I learned that every patient requires their own unique approach. A year into using the supplement, I discovered that, if patients took too much of it, their old symptoms would reappear. Eventually, I moved out of my comfort zone and tried other supplements. Subsequently, the universe orchestrated two people to tell me about the miraculous outcomes from “thought-field therapy,” an energy-medicine technique. I began exploring “energy medicine” through the support and instruction of a holistic psychotherapist, Mark Bottinick, LCSW-C. Soon, I was connecting the dots between emotional freedom technique and immediate positive changes. Energy medicine allowed me to heal problems without using a pill! I felt as if I had arrived at Solla Sollew by the banks of the Beautiful River Wah-Hoo.
As I discovered and attended conferences in holistic medicine, I got certified in integrative medicine and became a Reiki master. Even as a novice in holistic medicine, I began to experience patients crying with joy, rather than sadness. One psychotic patient got better on some supplements and got a new job in just 2 weeks.
On Feb. 17, 2021, I launched a podcast called “The Holistic Psychiatrist,” with interviews of patients, conversations with practitioners, and insights from me. Of the initial interviews, two of the three patients had bipolar disorder, and were able to safely and successfully withdraw from many medications. They are no longer patients and are free to move on with their lives. A patient who smoothly and successfully lowered six psychiatric medications will be sharing her wisdom and healing journey soon. A naturopathic doctor will also be sharing his insights and successes. He once was a suicidal high school student failing his classes, depressed and anxious, and dependent on marijuana. His recovery occurred more than a decade ago in my holistic practice.
These patients are living proof that holistic approaches can be very powerful and effective. They demonstrate that chronicity may reflect inadequate treatment and not a definition of disease. Over the course of this Holistic Mental Health column, I want to share many incredible healing journeys and insights on holistic psychiatry. I hope that you will be open to this new paradigm and begin your own holistic journey.
Dr. Lee is a psychiatrist with a solo private practice in Lehi, Utah. She integrates functional/orthomolecular medicine and mind/body/energy medicine in her work with patients. Contact her at holisticpsychiatrist.com. She has no conflicts of interest.
When I was asked to write a regular “Holistic Mental Health” column, I decided to write about the Herculean forces that must come together to create a holistic psychiatrist – someone who specializes in helping patients off their medications rather than on.
My journey began when I told a training psychiatrist that I wanted to stop being a psychiatrist. It was a year after my daughter was born, and I had started my third year of adult psychiatry residency at the University of Maryland in Baltimore. I was stressed and exhausted from working on inpatient psychiatric wards for 2 years, countless unpleasant nights on call, and additional sleepless nights caring for an infant.
I told the training psychiatrist that life wasn’t worth living. Was I suicidal, he asked? I laughed bitterly: “All the time!” Once he heard the S-word, he wanted me to take an antidepressant. I finally gave in and began taking Zoloft 25 mg every morning. Within a week, my angst disappeared; but 5 years, another child, and a fellowship later, I was still taking Zoloft. Why? Without much thought, I stopped it. A month later, I found myself brooding on the sofa, numb with depression, and feeling astonishingly suicidal. This “depression” led me to restart my Zoloft. In a week, my mood normalized. I did this on and off for about a year until a light bulb went off: This can’t be depression. It’s withdrawal. I’ve become dependent on Zoloft! Once I realized this, I began taking some St. John’s wort, an herbal alternative that was supposed to help with depression. I used cheaper brands and discovered that brands do matter, because the cheaper ones didn’t work. Through my haphazard exploration of natural alternatives, I came off Zoloft completely. During this time, I developed greater empathy for my patients, openness to natural alternatives, appreciation for supplement quality, and learned about psychotropic withdrawal. Most importantly, I came to understand a patient’s need to be free.
Five years later, in 2002, I had a thriving, but conventional, private practice. Instead of being content, however, I once again wanted to quit psychiatry. Medicating patients felt unrewarding, but I didn’t have another approach. Simultaneously, my practice was filling up with chronically ill, heavily medicated, bipolar patients. Their intense suffering combined with my discontent with psychiatry made me desperate for something better. In this ripe setting, the mother of a patient with bipolar disorder casually mentioned a supplement called EMPower by Truehope that lessened bipolar symptoms. Though my withdrawal from Zoloft allowed me to be more open to holistic approaches, I waited 3 months before calling. I used the supplement for the first time to help a heavily medicated bipolar patient in her 30’s, whose Depakote side effects caused her to wear a diaper, lack any emotions, and suffer severe tremors. Once I made this decision to walk down this new path, I never went back. With guidance from the company, I used this supplement to help many patients lower their medications. At the time, I wondered whether EMPower would be the solution for all my patients. The simplicity and ease of one supplement approach for all mental illnesses appealed to my laziness, so I continued down the holistic path.
Hundreds of supplements, glandulars, essential oils, and homeopathic remedies later, I learned that every patient requires their own unique approach. A year into using the supplement, I discovered that, if patients took too much of it, their old symptoms would reappear. Eventually, I moved out of my comfort zone and tried other supplements. Subsequently, the universe orchestrated two people to tell me about the miraculous outcomes from “thought-field therapy,” an energy-medicine technique. I began exploring “energy medicine” through the support and instruction of a holistic psychotherapist, Mark Bottinick, LCSW-C. Soon, I was connecting the dots between emotional freedom technique and immediate positive changes. Energy medicine allowed me to heal problems without using a pill! I felt as if I had arrived at Solla Sollew by the banks of the Beautiful River Wah-Hoo.
As I discovered and attended conferences in holistic medicine, I got certified in integrative medicine and became a Reiki master. Even as a novice in holistic medicine, I began to experience patients crying with joy, rather than sadness. One psychotic patient got better on some supplements and got a new job in just 2 weeks.
On Feb. 17, 2021, I launched a podcast called “The Holistic Psychiatrist,” with interviews of patients, conversations with practitioners, and insights from me. Of the initial interviews, two of the three patients had bipolar disorder, and were able to safely and successfully withdraw from many medications. They are no longer patients and are free to move on with their lives. A patient who smoothly and successfully lowered six psychiatric medications will be sharing her wisdom and healing journey soon. A naturopathic doctor will also be sharing his insights and successes. He once was a suicidal high school student failing his classes, depressed and anxious, and dependent on marijuana. His recovery occurred more than a decade ago in my holistic practice.
These patients are living proof that holistic approaches can be very powerful and effective. They demonstrate that chronicity may reflect inadequate treatment and not a definition of disease. Over the course of this Holistic Mental Health column, I want to share many incredible healing journeys and insights on holistic psychiatry. I hope that you will be open to this new paradigm and begin your own holistic journey.
Dr. Lee is a psychiatrist with a solo private practice in Lehi, Utah. She integrates functional/orthomolecular medicine and mind/body/energy medicine in her work with patients. Contact her at holisticpsychiatrist.com. She has no conflicts of interest.
Shedding the super doctor myth
It’s been more than a year since we came face to face with an unprecedented, unrelenting pandemic. Determined to overcome, determined to forge ahead, we worked tirelessly.
Hours upon hours, days upon days, months upon months. Hoping for recovery while facing the devastation of death. We were praised, and lauded as heroes as we pleaded for essential protective gear and urged our communities to think critically, act responsibly, and distance safely. From the cities to small towns, we answered the call. Leaving long-practiced specialties, reassigned from our practices and training, we worked together uncertain of the future, but committed to safeguarding our present. Through sacrifice we toiled, leaving our families to protect against contagion, wading through halls of the sick and fighting against the threat of death.
As days swept into months, the impact of isolation and economic deceleration yielded cracks on the surface. Pay cuts loomed, furloughs abounded, and distance-learning infiltrated the medical community. Yet, COVID-19 reigned, and with it came frustration, exhaustion, and emotional defeat. Despite racial reckonings, political turmoil, and massive protests, we worked tirelessly. We persevered.
Throughout 2020, the praise of “Health Care Heroes” rang out around the world. We saw images of medical professionals diligently working through the unthinkable with grace and humility, truly sacrificing for the greater good without complaint. Day after day, hour after hour, month after month. All the while, cracks were surfacing, expanding wider, and penetrating deeper. We were weary.
During a recent appointment with my primary care physician, she looked at me, her eyes brimming with earnest compassion, and said, “If you have suicidal thoughts, please let me know. That is my biggest worry with doctors.” I knowingly looked at her, keen in understanding as I recalled the stories. Doctors overwhelmed and uncertain, released by the abrupt completion of suicide.
Although broader government agencies may regulate and enforce, it is up to us to facilitate and comply. The pressure is immense, but our calling is strong – an unspoken agreement that begins with an oath.
As a psychiatrist, I am acutely aware of the warning signs associated with suicidality. Reading through the stories of loss and seeing the bewilderment and despair of the bereft, I once again wonder whether the pressure of medicine is worth the cost. How can we be “Health Care Heroes” if we fail to recognize the fragility that resides within ourselves? Moreover, how do we see beyond the illusion of invulnerability and accept that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but a hallmark of strength and empathy? These are some of the issues I will be exploring in this new column, Myth of the Super Doctor.
Beginning at the beginning
Addressing these issues starts with training. As a new cohort of eager students enters medical/osteopathic school, the focus should lie not only on foundations of medicine and brute memorization of copious information but also on self-care, wellness checks, and group morale. The same emphasis placed upon patient care and advocacy must also be extended toward ensuring that the next generation of physicians will understand the importance of caring for themselves as much as they care for others.
In the same manner, past stereotypes of ruthless, cut-throat, competition must also evolve. Although the spirit of hard work and perseverance is essential, the manner it propagates is just as important. Aggressive questioning, myriad testing, rigid hierarchies, blind obedience, and ego inflation may separate the pack, but it also reinforces individualism and isolation. Students may shield their internal turmoil behind a mask. The mask of the Super Doctor.
However, as the pandemic has shown, even the most durable of masks will eventually fail. So how do we recognize and accept that help is needed? How do we access support? First, it is vital to acknowledge that there is no shame in asking for help. It is both surprising and reassuring that many of us have been there, an unspoken band of brothers and sisters. Second, remember the acronym for depressive symptoms SIGECAPS (sleep, interest, guilt, energy, concentration, appetite, psychomotor, suicide). Remember that these symptoms may develop gradually or feel sudden and overwhelming. Know that mood lability, tearfulness, and isolation may also be present but confused and disregarded as normal consequences of school, residency, or life as a physician. Third, recognize common behavioral changes associated with anxiety, such as irritability, avoidance, and physical symptoms, including headache, muscle aches, joint pain, GI discomfort, palpitations, and insomnia. Last, reach out to colleagues who have suddenly or gradually withdrawn. Schedule frequent check-ins for one another and do not be afraid to admit that you are human. There is no shame in vulnerability but there is bravery and strength.
If you are in school or residency training, reach out to health centers, training directors, supervisors, family and/or friends. Whether you are an early career physician or amid a decades-long career, connect with your peers, reach out to junior members, offer and accept support. Anonymous hotlines, listservs, email groups, virtual meetings, texts, and phone calls also provide opportunities for wellness checks, pep talks, or venting sessions. All are important. In the case where more specialized help is needed, contact your primary care physician, reach out to colleagues in mental health, contact the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800 273-8255. Know there is help; you are not alone.
In these unprecedented and uncertain times, remember the African proverb “It takes a village.” To ask for help reveals strength and fortitude. The more we advocate for ourselves and one another, the more we will prevail and shed the myth of infallibility.
Dr. Thomas is a board-certified adult psychiatrist with an interest in chronic illness, women’s behavioral health, and minority mental health. She currently practices in North Kingstown and East Providence, R.I. She has no conflicts of interest.
It’s been more than a year since we came face to face with an unprecedented, unrelenting pandemic. Determined to overcome, determined to forge ahead, we worked tirelessly.
Hours upon hours, days upon days, months upon months. Hoping for recovery while facing the devastation of death. We were praised, and lauded as heroes as we pleaded for essential protective gear and urged our communities to think critically, act responsibly, and distance safely. From the cities to small towns, we answered the call. Leaving long-practiced specialties, reassigned from our practices and training, we worked together uncertain of the future, but committed to safeguarding our present. Through sacrifice we toiled, leaving our families to protect against contagion, wading through halls of the sick and fighting against the threat of death.
As days swept into months, the impact of isolation and economic deceleration yielded cracks on the surface. Pay cuts loomed, furloughs abounded, and distance-learning infiltrated the medical community. Yet, COVID-19 reigned, and with it came frustration, exhaustion, and emotional defeat. Despite racial reckonings, political turmoil, and massive protests, we worked tirelessly. We persevered.
Throughout 2020, the praise of “Health Care Heroes” rang out around the world. We saw images of medical professionals diligently working through the unthinkable with grace and humility, truly sacrificing for the greater good without complaint. Day after day, hour after hour, month after month. All the while, cracks were surfacing, expanding wider, and penetrating deeper. We were weary.
During a recent appointment with my primary care physician, she looked at me, her eyes brimming with earnest compassion, and said, “If you have suicidal thoughts, please let me know. That is my biggest worry with doctors.” I knowingly looked at her, keen in understanding as I recalled the stories. Doctors overwhelmed and uncertain, released by the abrupt completion of suicide.
Although broader government agencies may regulate and enforce, it is up to us to facilitate and comply. The pressure is immense, but our calling is strong – an unspoken agreement that begins with an oath.
As a psychiatrist, I am acutely aware of the warning signs associated with suicidality. Reading through the stories of loss and seeing the bewilderment and despair of the bereft, I once again wonder whether the pressure of medicine is worth the cost. How can we be “Health Care Heroes” if we fail to recognize the fragility that resides within ourselves? Moreover, how do we see beyond the illusion of invulnerability and accept that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but a hallmark of strength and empathy? These are some of the issues I will be exploring in this new column, Myth of the Super Doctor.
Beginning at the beginning
Addressing these issues starts with training. As a new cohort of eager students enters medical/osteopathic school, the focus should lie not only on foundations of medicine and brute memorization of copious information but also on self-care, wellness checks, and group morale. The same emphasis placed upon patient care and advocacy must also be extended toward ensuring that the next generation of physicians will understand the importance of caring for themselves as much as they care for others.
In the same manner, past stereotypes of ruthless, cut-throat, competition must also evolve. Although the spirit of hard work and perseverance is essential, the manner it propagates is just as important. Aggressive questioning, myriad testing, rigid hierarchies, blind obedience, and ego inflation may separate the pack, but it also reinforces individualism and isolation. Students may shield their internal turmoil behind a mask. The mask of the Super Doctor.
However, as the pandemic has shown, even the most durable of masks will eventually fail. So how do we recognize and accept that help is needed? How do we access support? First, it is vital to acknowledge that there is no shame in asking for help. It is both surprising and reassuring that many of us have been there, an unspoken band of brothers and sisters. Second, remember the acronym for depressive symptoms SIGECAPS (sleep, interest, guilt, energy, concentration, appetite, psychomotor, suicide). Remember that these symptoms may develop gradually or feel sudden and overwhelming. Know that mood lability, tearfulness, and isolation may also be present but confused and disregarded as normal consequences of school, residency, or life as a physician. Third, recognize common behavioral changes associated with anxiety, such as irritability, avoidance, and physical symptoms, including headache, muscle aches, joint pain, GI discomfort, palpitations, and insomnia. Last, reach out to colleagues who have suddenly or gradually withdrawn. Schedule frequent check-ins for one another and do not be afraid to admit that you are human. There is no shame in vulnerability but there is bravery and strength.
If you are in school or residency training, reach out to health centers, training directors, supervisors, family and/or friends. Whether you are an early career physician or amid a decades-long career, connect with your peers, reach out to junior members, offer and accept support. Anonymous hotlines, listservs, email groups, virtual meetings, texts, and phone calls also provide opportunities for wellness checks, pep talks, or venting sessions. All are important. In the case where more specialized help is needed, contact your primary care physician, reach out to colleagues in mental health, contact the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800 273-8255. Know there is help; you are not alone.
In these unprecedented and uncertain times, remember the African proverb “It takes a village.” To ask for help reveals strength and fortitude. The more we advocate for ourselves and one another, the more we will prevail and shed the myth of infallibility.
Dr. Thomas is a board-certified adult psychiatrist with an interest in chronic illness, women’s behavioral health, and minority mental health. She currently practices in North Kingstown and East Providence, R.I. She has no conflicts of interest.
It’s been more than a year since we came face to face with an unprecedented, unrelenting pandemic. Determined to overcome, determined to forge ahead, we worked tirelessly.
Hours upon hours, days upon days, months upon months. Hoping for recovery while facing the devastation of death. We were praised, and lauded as heroes as we pleaded for essential protective gear and urged our communities to think critically, act responsibly, and distance safely. From the cities to small towns, we answered the call. Leaving long-practiced specialties, reassigned from our practices and training, we worked together uncertain of the future, but committed to safeguarding our present. Through sacrifice we toiled, leaving our families to protect against contagion, wading through halls of the sick and fighting against the threat of death.
As days swept into months, the impact of isolation and economic deceleration yielded cracks on the surface. Pay cuts loomed, furloughs abounded, and distance-learning infiltrated the medical community. Yet, COVID-19 reigned, and with it came frustration, exhaustion, and emotional defeat. Despite racial reckonings, political turmoil, and massive protests, we worked tirelessly. We persevered.
Throughout 2020, the praise of “Health Care Heroes” rang out around the world. We saw images of medical professionals diligently working through the unthinkable with grace and humility, truly sacrificing for the greater good without complaint. Day after day, hour after hour, month after month. All the while, cracks were surfacing, expanding wider, and penetrating deeper. We were weary.
During a recent appointment with my primary care physician, she looked at me, her eyes brimming with earnest compassion, and said, “If you have suicidal thoughts, please let me know. That is my biggest worry with doctors.” I knowingly looked at her, keen in understanding as I recalled the stories. Doctors overwhelmed and uncertain, released by the abrupt completion of suicide.
Although broader government agencies may regulate and enforce, it is up to us to facilitate and comply. The pressure is immense, but our calling is strong – an unspoken agreement that begins with an oath.
As a psychiatrist, I am acutely aware of the warning signs associated with suicidality. Reading through the stories of loss and seeing the bewilderment and despair of the bereft, I once again wonder whether the pressure of medicine is worth the cost. How can we be “Health Care Heroes” if we fail to recognize the fragility that resides within ourselves? Moreover, how do we see beyond the illusion of invulnerability and accept that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but a hallmark of strength and empathy? These are some of the issues I will be exploring in this new column, Myth of the Super Doctor.
Beginning at the beginning
Addressing these issues starts with training. As a new cohort of eager students enters medical/osteopathic school, the focus should lie not only on foundations of medicine and brute memorization of copious information but also on self-care, wellness checks, and group morale. The same emphasis placed upon patient care and advocacy must also be extended toward ensuring that the next generation of physicians will understand the importance of caring for themselves as much as they care for others.
In the same manner, past stereotypes of ruthless, cut-throat, competition must also evolve. Although the spirit of hard work and perseverance is essential, the manner it propagates is just as important. Aggressive questioning, myriad testing, rigid hierarchies, blind obedience, and ego inflation may separate the pack, but it also reinforces individualism and isolation. Students may shield their internal turmoil behind a mask. The mask of the Super Doctor.
However, as the pandemic has shown, even the most durable of masks will eventually fail. So how do we recognize and accept that help is needed? How do we access support? First, it is vital to acknowledge that there is no shame in asking for help. It is both surprising and reassuring that many of us have been there, an unspoken band of brothers and sisters. Second, remember the acronym for depressive symptoms SIGECAPS (sleep, interest, guilt, energy, concentration, appetite, psychomotor, suicide). Remember that these symptoms may develop gradually or feel sudden and overwhelming. Know that mood lability, tearfulness, and isolation may also be present but confused and disregarded as normal consequences of school, residency, or life as a physician. Third, recognize common behavioral changes associated with anxiety, such as irritability, avoidance, and physical symptoms, including headache, muscle aches, joint pain, GI discomfort, palpitations, and insomnia. Last, reach out to colleagues who have suddenly or gradually withdrawn. Schedule frequent check-ins for one another and do not be afraid to admit that you are human. There is no shame in vulnerability but there is bravery and strength.
If you are in school or residency training, reach out to health centers, training directors, supervisors, family and/or friends. Whether you are an early career physician or amid a decades-long career, connect with your peers, reach out to junior members, offer and accept support. Anonymous hotlines, listservs, email groups, virtual meetings, texts, and phone calls also provide opportunities for wellness checks, pep talks, or venting sessions. All are important. In the case where more specialized help is needed, contact your primary care physician, reach out to colleagues in mental health, contact the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800 273-8255. Know there is help; you are not alone.
In these unprecedented and uncertain times, remember the African proverb “It takes a village.” To ask for help reveals strength and fortitude. The more we advocate for ourselves and one another, the more we will prevail and shed the myth of infallibility.
Dr. Thomas is a board-certified adult psychiatrist with an interest in chronic illness, women’s behavioral health, and minority mental health. She currently practices in North Kingstown and East Providence, R.I. She has no conflicts of interest.
Adult separation anxiety raises suicidality risk
Separation anxiety plays a substantial role in suicidality in patients with mood and anxiety disorders, new research suggests.
Results of a study that included 500 outpatients with mood or anxiety disorders showed adult separation anxiety disorder (ASAD) was more frequent in patients with suicidal thoughts versus those who did not have the disorder. In addition, depression and separation anxiety also significantly predicted lifetime suicide risk.
“This study indicates a substantial role of separation anxiety in predicting suicidal thoughts, both as state-related symptoms ... and as longitudinal dimension symptoms,” say the investigators, led by Stefano Pini, MD, of the department of clinical and experimental medicine, section of psychiatry, University of Pisa (Italy).
“ for reducing suicide risk,” they add.
The study was published in the March/April issue of the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry.
Frequently underdiagnosed
The authors describe a “close link between suicidal behaviors and interpersonal difficulties extending beyond the traditional approach of comprehending suicide as a phenomenon mainly related to depression.”
Previous research indicates that insecure adult attachment style might be associated with a greater likelihood of suicidal thoughts and attempts, and there might be an association between individual abnormal attachment sensitivity and suicide.
“Suicidal ideation or suicide attempts may be associated with disturbances in attachment, which may lead not only to a devastating experience of losing the feeling of interdependence and closeness but also to a rejection of life itself,” the authors suggest.
ASAD may be a “key factor” in understanding the relationship between individual attachment sensitivity to separation and suicidality.
An ASAD diagnosis was traditionally reserved for children and adolescents, but DSM-5 expanded the diagnosis to include adults over 18 years of age because research had “found a later onset to be common,” spanning the life course, even in the absence of a history of separation anxiety in childhood.
“Separation anxiety is an important clinical dimension, often with roots in childhood, but likely to manifest across the lifespan,” the authors note, adding that it is “frequently underdiagnosed.”
The relationship between ASAD and suicidality has not been explored extensively, so the researchers set out to examine the association.
The study included 509 consecutively recruited adult psychiatric outpatients with mood or anxiety disorders as a principle diagnosis.
Participants completed an array of scales, including item 3 on the Hamilton Depression Rating Scale (HDRS), which measures suicidality, as well as the Mood Spectrum Self-Report (MOODS-SR), a questionnaire evaluating lifetime suicidal symptoms.
Three scales were used to measure separation anxiety disorder: The Structured Interview for Separation Anxiety Symptoms in Adulthood/Childhood (SCI-SAS-A/C); the Separation Anxiety Symptom Inventory (SASI); and the Adult Separation Anxiety Scale (ASA-27).
Waxing and waning
Of the total sample, 215 patients were diagnosed with separation anxiety disorder (mean age at onset 15 years). Of the total sample, 19.9% scored ≥ 1 on the HDRS item 3, indicating the presence of suicidality.
Patients with suicidal thoughts more frequently experienced ASAD, compared with those without suicidal thoughts (53.6% vs. 39.6%, respectively, P = .01).
“All measures of adult as well as childhood separation anxiety were significantly elevated in the group of patients with current suicidality, based on HDRS item 3,” the authors report.
Logistic regression found that ASAD, major depression, bipolar I, and bipolar II disorders all predicted suicidal thoughts.
A linear regression model found that depression (P = .001) and ASA-27 separation anxiety (P = .001) significantly predicted lifetime suicide risk, based on the MOODS-SR scale.
In addition, “mediation analysis showed that, besides a direct effect, there is also an indirect effect of depression severity on the MOODS-SR suicidality score through the ASA-27 score, indicating that separation anxiety may act as an important mediating factor in the relationship between depression and suicidality,” the authors state.
The authors observe that separation anxiety “is an important clinical dimension, often with roots in childhood, but likely to wax and wane across the lifespan and even to manifest for the first time during adulthood.”
Treatment target?
Commenting on the study for this news organization, Megan Rogers, PhD, postdoctoral research fellow, Mount Sinai Beth Israel, New York, said the findings “point to symptoms of separation anxiety as a potential indicator of suicidal ideation, and should these findings be replicated and extended through longitudinal research, it suggests that symptoms of separation anxiety may be a relevant treatment target in certain populations to mitigate suicide risk.”
Dr. Rogers, who is the student division director at the American Association of Suicidology and was not involved with the study, said she thinks that studies of suicide have focused more on “individual symptoms of separation anxiety, such as excessive worry about loved ones or distress when anticipating separation from loved ones, rather than on separation anxiety as a categorical diagnosis.”
However, the study has an important take-home message for practicing clinicians, Dr. Rogers said. “In individuals with separation anxiety disorders, particularly those with comorbid mood conditions, it may be worth conducting a more thorough assessment of suicide risk, given the possibility of elevated suicidality in these patients.”
The study was supported in part by the German Research Foundation and the Fondazione Cassa di Risparmio di la Spezia. The authors and Dr. Rogers have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Separation anxiety plays a substantial role in suicidality in patients with mood and anxiety disorders, new research suggests.
Results of a study that included 500 outpatients with mood or anxiety disorders showed adult separation anxiety disorder (ASAD) was more frequent in patients with suicidal thoughts versus those who did not have the disorder. In addition, depression and separation anxiety also significantly predicted lifetime suicide risk.
“This study indicates a substantial role of separation anxiety in predicting suicidal thoughts, both as state-related symptoms ... and as longitudinal dimension symptoms,” say the investigators, led by Stefano Pini, MD, of the department of clinical and experimental medicine, section of psychiatry, University of Pisa (Italy).
“ for reducing suicide risk,” they add.
The study was published in the March/April issue of the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry.
Frequently underdiagnosed
The authors describe a “close link between suicidal behaviors and interpersonal difficulties extending beyond the traditional approach of comprehending suicide as a phenomenon mainly related to depression.”
Previous research indicates that insecure adult attachment style might be associated with a greater likelihood of suicidal thoughts and attempts, and there might be an association between individual abnormal attachment sensitivity and suicide.
“Suicidal ideation or suicide attempts may be associated with disturbances in attachment, which may lead not only to a devastating experience of losing the feeling of interdependence and closeness but also to a rejection of life itself,” the authors suggest.
ASAD may be a “key factor” in understanding the relationship between individual attachment sensitivity to separation and suicidality.
An ASAD diagnosis was traditionally reserved for children and adolescents, but DSM-5 expanded the diagnosis to include adults over 18 years of age because research had “found a later onset to be common,” spanning the life course, even in the absence of a history of separation anxiety in childhood.
“Separation anxiety is an important clinical dimension, often with roots in childhood, but likely to manifest across the lifespan,” the authors note, adding that it is “frequently underdiagnosed.”
The relationship between ASAD and suicidality has not been explored extensively, so the researchers set out to examine the association.
The study included 509 consecutively recruited adult psychiatric outpatients with mood or anxiety disorders as a principle diagnosis.
Participants completed an array of scales, including item 3 on the Hamilton Depression Rating Scale (HDRS), which measures suicidality, as well as the Mood Spectrum Self-Report (MOODS-SR), a questionnaire evaluating lifetime suicidal symptoms.
Three scales were used to measure separation anxiety disorder: The Structured Interview for Separation Anxiety Symptoms in Adulthood/Childhood (SCI-SAS-A/C); the Separation Anxiety Symptom Inventory (SASI); and the Adult Separation Anxiety Scale (ASA-27).
Waxing and waning
Of the total sample, 215 patients were diagnosed with separation anxiety disorder (mean age at onset 15 years). Of the total sample, 19.9% scored ≥ 1 on the HDRS item 3, indicating the presence of suicidality.
Patients with suicidal thoughts more frequently experienced ASAD, compared with those without suicidal thoughts (53.6% vs. 39.6%, respectively, P = .01).
“All measures of adult as well as childhood separation anxiety were significantly elevated in the group of patients with current suicidality, based on HDRS item 3,” the authors report.
Logistic regression found that ASAD, major depression, bipolar I, and bipolar II disorders all predicted suicidal thoughts.
A linear regression model found that depression (P = .001) and ASA-27 separation anxiety (P = .001) significantly predicted lifetime suicide risk, based on the MOODS-SR scale.
In addition, “mediation analysis showed that, besides a direct effect, there is also an indirect effect of depression severity on the MOODS-SR suicidality score through the ASA-27 score, indicating that separation anxiety may act as an important mediating factor in the relationship between depression and suicidality,” the authors state.
The authors observe that separation anxiety “is an important clinical dimension, often with roots in childhood, but likely to wax and wane across the lifespan and even to manifest for the first time during adulthood.”
Treatment target?
Commenting on the study for this news organization, Megan Rogers, PhD, postdoctoral research fellow, Mount Sinai Beth Israel, New York, said the findings “point to symptoms of separation anxiety as a potential indicator of suicidal ideation, and should these findings be replicated and extended through longitudinal research, it suggests that symptoms of separation anxiety may be a relevant treatment target in certain populations to mitigate suicide risk.”
Dr. Rogers, who is the student division director at the American Association of Suicidology and was not involved with the study, said she thinks that studies of suicide have focused more on “individual symptoms of separation anxiety, such as excessive worry about loved ones or distress when anticipating separation from loved ones, rather than on separation anxiety as a categorical diagnosis.”
However, the study has an important take-home message for practicing clinicians, Dr. Rogers said. “In individuals with separation anxiety disorders, particularly those with comorbid mood conditions, it may be worth conducting a more thorough assessment of suicide risk, given the possibility of elevated suicidality in these patients.”
The study was supported in part by the German Research Foundation and the Fondazione Cassa di Risparmio di la Spezia. The authors and Dr. Rogers have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.
Separation anxiety plays a substantial role in suicidality in patients with mood and anxiety disorders, new research suggests.
Results of a study that included 500 outpatients with mood or anxiety disorders showed adult separation anxiety disorder (ASAD) was more frequent in patients with suicidal thoughts versus those who did not have the disorder. In addition, depression and separation anxiety also significantly predicted lifetime suicide risk.
“This study indicates a substantial role of separation anxiety in predicting suicidal thoughts, both as state-related symptoms ... and as longitudinal dimension symptoms,” say the investigators, led by Stefano Pini, MD, of the department of clinical and experimental medicine, section of psychiatry, University of Pisa (Italy).
“ for reducing suicide risk,” they add.
The study was published in the March/April issue of the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry.
Frequently underdiagnosed
The authors describe a “close link between suicidal behaviors and interpersonal difficulties extending beyond the traditional approach of comprehending suicide as a phenomenon mainly related to depression.”
Previous research indicates that insecure adult attachment style might be associated with a greater likelihood of suicidal thoughts and attempts, and there might be an association between individual abnormal attachment sensitivity and suicide.
“Suicidal ideation or suicide attempts may be associated with disturbances in attachment, which may lead not only to a devastating experience of losing the feeling of interdependence and closeness but also to a rejection of life itself,” the authors suggest.
ASAD may be a “key factor” in understanding the relationship between individual attachment sensitivity to separation and suicidality.
An ASAD diagnosis was traditionally reserved for children and adolescents, but DSM-5 expanded the diagnosis to include adults over 18 years of age because research had “found a later onset to be common,” spanning the life course, even in the absence of a history of separation anxiety in childhood.
“Separation anxiety is an important clinical dimension, often with roots in childhood, but likely to manifest across the lifespan,” the authors note, adding that it is “frequently underdiagnosed.”
The relationship between ASAD and suicidality has not been explored extensively, so the researchers set out to examine the association.
The study included 509 consecutively recruited adult psychiatric outpatients with mood or anxiety disorders as a principle diagnosis.
Participants completed an array of scales, including item 3 on the Hamilton Depression Rating Scale (HDRS), which measures suicidality, as well as the Mood Spectrum Self-Report (MOODS-SR), a questionnaire evaluating lifetime suicidal symptoms.
Three scales were used to measure separation anxiety disorder: The Structured Interview for Separation Anxiety Symptoms in Adulthood/Childhood (SCI-SAS-A/C); the Separation Anxiety Symptom Inventory (SASI); and the Adult Separation Anxiety Scale (ASA-27).
Waxing and waning
Of the total sample, 215 patients were diagnosed with separation anxiety disorder (mean age at onset 15 years). Of the total sample, 19.9% scored ≥ 1 on the HDRS item 3, indicating the presence of suicidality.
Patients with suicidal thoughts more frequently experienced ASAD, compared with those without suicidal thoughts (53.6% vs. 39.6%, respectively, P = .01).
“All measures of adult as well as childhood separation anxiety were significantly elevated in the group of patients with current suicidality, based on HDRS item 3,” the authors report.
Logistic regression found that ASAD, major depression, bipolar I, and bipolar II disorders all predicted suicidal thoughts.
A linear regression model found that depression (P = .001) and ASA-27 separation anxiety (P = .001) significantly predicted lifetime suicide risk, based on the MOODS-SR scale.
In addition, “mediation analysis showed that, besides a direct effect, there is also an indirect effect of depression severity on the MOODS-SR suicidality score through the ASA-27 score, indicating that separation anxiety may act as an important mediating factor in the relationship between depression and suicidality,” the authors state.
The authors observe that separation anxiety “is an important clinical dimension, often with roots in childhood, but likely to wax and wane across the lifespan and even to manifest for the first time during adulthood.”
Treatment target?
Commenting on the study for this news organization, Megan Rogers, PhD, postdoctoral research fellow, Mount Sinai Beth Israel, New York, said the findings “point to symptoms of separation anxiety as a potential indicator of suicidal ideation, and should these findings be replicated and extended through longitudinal research, it suggests that symptoms of separation anxiety may be a relevant treatment target in certain populations to mitigate suicide risk.”
Dr. Rogers, who is the student division director at the American Association of Suicidology and was not involved with the study, said she thinks that studies of suicide have focused more on “individual symptoms of separation anxiety, such as excessive worry about loved ones or distress when anticipating separation from loved ones, rather than on separation anxiety as a categorical diagnosis.”
However, the study has an important take-home message for practicing clinicians, Dr. Rogers said. “In individuals with separation anxiety disorders, particularly those with comorbid mood conditions, it may be worth conducting a more thorough assessment of suicide risk, given the possibility of elevated suicidality in these patients.”
The study was supported in part by the German Research Foundation and the Fondazione Cassa di Risparmio di la Spezia. The authors and Dr. Rogers have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.