PTSD

The catastrophic collapse of the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Towers South left ambiguous loss, trauma, grief, and other psychiatric and psychological sequelae in its wake.

Now that a few months have passed since the tragedy, which took the lives of 98 residents, it is helpful to examine the psychiatric and psychological support efforts that emerged.

We can think of those support efforts as operating on two tracks: one was pursued by mental health professionals representing numerous organizations; the other was pursued by local, regional, and international first responders – specifically, by Israeli Defense Force (IDF) members who came to our community at the request of Surfside families.

Those efforts were guided by existing frameworks for crisis response designed to provide containment amid the naturally disorganizing effects of the trauma and ambiguous loss. In retrospect, it was clear that the mechanisms by which those frameworks coalesced and functioned were more implicit and organically synchronous than explicitly coordinated and agreed upon. As the rescue and support efforts proceeded, and a unique “Surfside collapse community” formed; key themes emerged and revealed intrinsic links between the first-responder/search and rescue and psychological strategies.

In this article, we discuss relevant themes and parallels between the psychological intervention/strategies and the first-responder disaster response and the practical utility of implementing an integrated strategy. Our hope is that a better understanding of these strategies will help future therapists and responders who respond to crises.
 

Setting the frame

The importance of setting a psychotherapeutic frame is indisputable regardless of theoretical orientation or therapeutic modality. Predictable, consistent conditions under which therapy takes place support a patient’s capacity to tolerate the ambiguous and unpredictable aspects of the process. Those “rules of engagement” provide a structure where subjective experiences can be formulated, organized, understood, and integrated. Twice-daily briefs held in a centralized location (dubbed the Surfside “family center”) paralleled this frame and served that same containing function by offering structure, order, and predictability amid the palpable chaos of ambiguous loss and traumatic grief. Those briefs provided key information on the status of the operation and described the rescue strategy. These were led by the Miami-Dade assistant fire chief and IDF colonel (E.E.), who presented a unified front and consistent presence.

It is essential that briefings such as these be coordinated (and unified) with clear expectations about ground rules, much like what is involved in therapeutic informed consent. In this context, rules included permissions related to documentation of meetings, information sharing, and rules of communication with the media in an effort to protect the vulnerable.

The centralized meeting location served as an important center of gravity and unified place of waiting and information receipt. It provided a dedicated space to meet with humanitarian aid organizations and government officials, and symbolized continuity, consistency, ease of information transmission, and a place where practical needs could be addressed. Meals, toiletries, and other supplies were provided to simplify and maintain daily routines. Those are otherwise unremarkable practices that seemed impossible to manage amid a crisis, yet can be inherently grounding and emotionally organizing when facing deep psychological fragmentation.

Meeting in person allowed the IDF to offer operational visuals to allow those affected to feel less helpless and cultivate a sense of purpose by being part of the strategy/mission. Their strategy included “population intelligence,” which was aimed at both information gathering to practically facilitate the rescue/recovery process (for example, locating victims, property, and recreating a visual of how the building fell), and inspiring people to participate. This engagement helped many transition from a place of denial/repression to acknowledging loss/grief, and from a passive to active part of the effort, in a way that was safe and realistic – as opposed to going to the site and aiding themselves, as some had requested.

Naturally, a central location made it possible to offer immediate psychological assistance and support. Clinicians responding to crisis should be carefully selected in light of the immense suffering, emotional vulnerability, and heightened reactivity of those affected. People were overwhelmed by deep sorrow, fear, anger, and uncertainty, vacillating between hope and despair, and mobilized by a desire to help. Those providing support need to be interpersonally skilled and able to regulate their own emotions. They must be able to formulate – in real time – an understanding of what is needed, and implement a strategic plan. Like first responders, it is also key for providers to be easily accessible and identifiable in uniform so that people in the grip of a survival response can easily identify and elicit support.

The power of strategy

The Israeli delegation and mental health approaches were aligned with respect to cultivating a team identity and keeping the team spirit elevated. The delegation’s approach was to deemphasize rank during the mission in that everyone was responsible for anything that was needed and no task was below anyone’s rank. The same was true for the mental health support response: Early interventions were focused on addressing practical needs – providing blankets, water, chargers, food, and a calming presence to counter the initial chaos. No task was too small, regardless of title or role. As more structure and order ensued, it was possible to offer more traditional crisis-related interventions aimed at grounding those affected.

Both teams worked to ensure 24-hour coverage, which was crucial given the need for consistency and continuity. Our commitment was to support the victims’ families and survivors by fully embracing the chaos and the situational demands, offering attunement and support, and satisfying both basic and higher-level needs. We divided and conquered work, observed signals of need, offered immediate support where necessary, and coordinated longer-term care plans when possible. The importance of ongoing self-care, consultation, and debriefing while doing this work cannot be overstated. Time to address basic needs and the impact of vicarious trauma as a team must be built in.
 

Importance of flexibility

This tragedy came with unique complexities and sensitivities that needed to be identified expediently and addressed with a concrete, comprehensive plan. This was true for both the rescue and psychological support efforts, and flexibility was key. There was nothing traditional about our work from a therapeutic perspective – we found quiet corners and empty offices, went for walks, met in lobbies, and checked in by phone. The interventions were brief.

Roles shifted often between aiding in addressing practical needs, advocating for victims and connecting them to appropriate resources, supporting the police in making death notifications, providing support and space for processing during and after briefings, and more.

Similarly, the rescue team constantly reevaluated their strategy because of what they discovered as they dismantled the collapsed building, in addition to managing external impacting factors (heat, rain, lightning, and the threat of the remaining structure falling).
 

Language matters

The iteration of commitment to the families/victims/mission and to work speedily and efficiently was important for both rescuers and therapists. It was key during the briefings for the chief and colonel (E.E.) to share information in a manner that was professional, discreet, honest and explicit. Their willingness and ability to be vulnerable and to share their personal feelings as active rescuers humanized them. Their approach was matter of fact, yet warm, loving, and containing, all of which conveyed dignity and respect.

Word choice mattered, and the IDF’s intentional choice to refer to recovered victims as “souls,” rather than “bodies,” conveyed their sensitivity to the intensity of anguish, depth of loss, and gravity of the situation. From a psychological perspective, the transition between “rescue” efforts signifying the potential saving of lives to “recovery” of bodies or remains was significant and demarcated a dramatic shift. The weeks-long efforts, once painfully slow, then felt too abrupt to process.

One extraordinary moment was the chief’s response to the families’ discomfort at the news of the switch from rescue to recovery. The families were anxious about losing the structure that the briefings provided and were apprehensive about the handoff from fire to the police department. With great compassion and attunement, he assured them that he would stay with them, and they together, as a family, would decide when to conclude the in-person briefings. The colonel (E.E.), too, provided assurance that neither procedure nor the urgency of the recovery would change. It was both heart-warming and containing that information related to the operation was shared in a clear manner, and that the thought process and rationale behind major decisions (e.g., demolishing the remaining building, decision to pause operations, switch from rescue to recovery) was shared. It was useful for the clinicians to be aware of this rationale in helping individuals metabolize the information and process the associated trauma and grief.
 

Unification is key

Surfside has left an indelible impact on us. We saw and experienced unity in many respects – clinicians from various backgrounds collaborating, families bonding and caring for one another, community support and solidarity, and the cooperation and coordination of the search and rescue teams. The diverse groups providing support came to feel like a family, and the importance of inter- and intrateam integration cannot be overstated. We were transformed both by our professional collaborations and authentic connections with those affected, and will forever cherish the experience, one another, the families, and the souls lost.

Dr. Feldman is a licensed clinical psychologist in private practice in Miami. She is an adjunct professor in the college of psychology at Nova Southeastern University, Fort Lauderdale, Fla., where she teaches clinical psychology doctoral students. She also serves on the board of directors of The Southeast Florida Association for Psychoanalytic Psychology. Dr. Feldman has no disclosures. Col. Edri is the Israeli Defense Forces District Commander of the Home Front Command Haifa District. He served as the deputy commander for the Israeli Defense Forces Search and Rescue Delegation, which was brought in to provide international aid to the local and domestic forces responding to the Surfside, Fla., building collapse. Col. Edri has no disclosures. Dr. Davidtz is a licensed psychologist and associate professor in the College of Psychology at Nova Southeastern University, Fort Lauderdale, Fla., where she is director of internship training for the Psychology Services Center and director of psychological services for the emotionally distressed, a specialty clinic that serves people with serious mental illness and personality disorders. She also maintains a part-time private practice specializing in the treatment of complex posttraumatic conditions and personality disorders. Dr. Davidtz has no disclosures.

The catastrophic collapse of the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Towers South left ambiguous loss, trauma, grief, and other psychiatric and psychological sequelae in its wake.

Now that a few months have passed since the tragedy, which took the lives of 98 residents, it is helpful to examine the psychiatric and psychological support efforts that emerged.

We can think of those support efforts as operating on two tracks: one was pursued by mental health professionals representing numerous organizations; the other was pursued by local, regional, and international first responders – specifically, by Israeli Defense Force (IDF) members who came to our community at the request of Surfside families.

Those efforts were guided by existing frameworks for crisis response designed to provide containment amid the naturally disorganizing effects of the trauma and ambiguous loss. In retrospect, it was clear that the mechanisms by which those frameworks coalesced and functioned were more implicit and organically synchronous than explicitly coordinated and agreed upon. As the rescue and support efforts proceeded, and a unique “Surfside collapse community” formed; key themes emerged and revealed intrinsic links between the first-responder/search and rescue and psychological strategies.

In this article, we discuss relevant themes and parallels between the psychological intervention/strategies and the first-responder disaster response and the practical utility of implementing an integrated strategy. Our hope is that a better understanding of these strategies will help future therapists and responders who respond to crises.
 

Setting the frame

The importance of setting a psychotherapeutic frame is indisputable regardless of theoretical orientation or therapeutic modality. Predictable, consistent conditions under which therapy takes place support a patient’s capacity to tolerate the ambiguous and unpredictable aspects of the process. Those “rules of engagement” provide a structure where subjective experiences can be formulated, organized, understood, and integrated. Twice-daily briefs held in a centralized location (dubbed the Surfside “family center”) paralleled this frame and served that same containing function by offering structure, order, and predictability amid the palpable chaos of ambiguous loss and traumatic grief. Those briefs provided key information on the status of the operation and described the rescue strategy. These were led by the Miami-Dade assistant fire chief and IDF colonel (E.E.), who presented a unified front and consistent presence.

It is essential that briefings such as these be coordinated (and unified) with clear expectations about ground rules, much like what is involved in therapeutic informed consent. In this context, rules included permissions related to documentation of meetings, information sharing, and rules of communication with the media in an effort to protect the vulnerable.

The centralized meeting location served as an important center of gravity and unified place of waiting and information receipt. It provided a dedicated space to meet with humanitarian aid organizations and government officials, and symbolized continuity, consistency, ease of information transmission, and a place where practical needs could be addressed. Meals, toiletries, and other supplies were provided to simplify and maintain daily routines. Those are otherwise unremarkable practices that seemed impossible to manage amid a crisis, yet can be inherently grounding and emotionally organizing when facing deep psychological fragmentation.

Meeting in person allowed the IDF to offer operational visuals to allow those affected to feel less helpless and cultivate a sense of purpose by being part of the strategy/mission. Their strategy included “population intelligence,” which was aimed at both information gathering to practically facilitate the rescue/recovery process (for example, locating victims, property, and recreating a visual of how the building fell), and inspiring people to participate. This engagement helped many transition from a place of denial/repression to acknowledging loss/grief, and from a passive to active part of the effort, in a way that was safe and realistic – as opposed to going to the site and aiding themselves, as some had requested.

Naturally, a central location made it possible to offer immediate psychological assistance and support. Clinicians responding to crisis should be carefully selected in light of the immense suffering, emotional vulnerability, and heightened reactivity of those affected. People were overwhelmed by deep sorrow, fear, anger, and uncertainty, vacillating between hope and despair, and mobilized by a desire to help. Those providing support need to be interpersonally skilled and able to regulate their own emotions. They must be able to formulate – in real time – an understanding of what is needed, and implement a strategic plan. Like first responders, it is also key for providers to be easily accessible and identifiable in uniform so that people in the grip of a survival response can easily identify and elicit support.

The power of strategy

The Israeli delegation and mental health approaches were aligned with respect to cultivating a team identity and keeping the team spirit elevated. The delegation’s approach was to deemphasize rank during the mission in that everyone was responsible for anything that was needed and no task was below anyone’s rank. The same was true for the mental health support response: Early interventions were focused on addressing practical needs – providing blankets, water, chargers, food, and a calming presence to counter the initial chaos. No task was too small, regardless of title or role. As more structure and order ensued, it was possible to offer more traditional crisis-related interventions aimed at grounding those affected.

Both teams worked to ensure 24-hour coverage, which was crucial given the need for consistency and continuity. Our commitment was to support the victims’ families and survivors by fully embracing the chaos and the situational demands, offering attunement and support, and satisfying both basic and higher-level needs. We divided and conquered work, observed signals of need, offered immediate support where necessary, and coordinated longer-term care plans when possible. The importance of ongoing self-care, consultation, and debriefing while doing this work cannot be overstated. Time to address basic needs and the impact of vicarious trauma as a team must be built in.
 

Importance of flexibility

This tragedy came with unique complexities and sensitivities that needed to be identified expediently and addressed with a concrete, comprehensive plan. This was true for both the rescue and psychological support efforts, and flexibility was key. There was nothing traditional about our work from a therapeutic perspective – we found quiet corners and empty offices, went for walks, met in lobbies, and checked in by phone. The interventions were brief.

Roles shifted often between aiding in addressing practical needs, advocating for victims and connecting them to appropriate resources, supporting the police in making death notifications, providing support and space for processing during and after briefings, and more.

Similarly, the rescue team constantly reevaluated their strategy because of what they discovered as they dismantled the collapsed building, in addition to managing external impacting factors (heat, rain, lightning, and the threat of the remaining structure falling).
 

Language matters

The iteration of commitment to the families/victims/mission and to work speedily and efficiently was important for both rescuers and therapists. It was key during the briefings for the chief and colonel (E.E.) to share information in a manner that was professional, discreet, honest and explicit. Their willingness and ability to be vulnerable and to share their personal feelings as active rescuers humanized them. Their approach was matter of fact, yet warm, loving, and containing, all of which conveyed dignity and respect.

Word choice mattered, and the IDF’s intentional choice to refer to recovered victims as “souls,” rather than “bodies,” conveyed their sensitivity to the intensity of anguish, depth of loss, and gravity of the situation. From a psychological perspective, the transition between “rescue” efforts signifying the potential saving of lives to “recovery” of bodies or remains was significant and demarcated a dramatic shift. The weeks-long efforts, once painfully slow, then felt too abrupt to process.

One extraordinary moment was the chief’s response to the families’ discomfort at the news of the switch from rescue to recovery. The families were anxious about losing the structure that the briefings provided and were apprehensive about the handoff from fire to the police department. With great compassion and attunement, he assured them that he would stay with them, and they together, as a family, would decide when to conclude the in-person briefings. The colonel (E.E.), too, provided assurance that neither procedure nor the urgency of the recovery would change. It was both heart-warming and containing that information related to the operation was shared in a clear manner, and that the thought process and rationale behind major decisions (e.g., demolishing the remaining building, decision to pause operations, switch from rescue to recovery) was shared. It was useful for the clinicians to be aware of this rationale in helping individuals metabolize the information and process the associated trauma and grief.
 

Unification is key

Surfside has left an indelible impact on us. We saw and experienced unity in many respects – clinicians from various backgrounds collaborating, families bonding and caring for one another, community support and solidarity, and the cooperation and coordination of the search and rescue teams. The diverse groups providing support came to feel like a family, and the importance of inter- and intrateam integration cannot be overstated. We were transformed both by our professional collaborations and authentic connections with those affected, and will forever cherish the experience, one another, the families, and the souls lost.

Dr. Feldman is a licensed clinical psychologist in private practice in Miami. She is an adjunct professor in the college of psychology at Nova Southeastern University, Fort Lauderdale, Fla., where she teaches clinical psychology doctoral students. She also serves on the board of directors of The Southeast Florida Association for Psychoanalytic Psychology. Dr. Feldman has no disclosures. Col. Edri is the Israeli Defense Forces District Commander of the Home Front Command Haifa District. He served as the deputy commander for the Israeli Defense Forces Search and Rescue Delegation, which was brought in to provide international aid to the local and domestic forces responding to the Surfside, Fla., building collapse. Col. Edri has no disclosures. Dr. Davidtz is a licensed psychologist and associate professor in the College of Psychology at Nova Southeastern University, Fort Lauderdale, Fla., where she is director of internship training for the Psychology Services Center and director of psychological services for the emotionally distressed, a specialty clinic that serves people with serious mental illness and personality disorders. She also maintains a part-time private practice specializing in the treatment of complex posttraumatic conditions and personality disorders. Dr. Davidtz has no disclosures.

The catastrophic collapse of the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Towers South left ambiguous loss, trauma, grief, and other psychiatric and psychological sequelae in its wake.

Now that a few months have passed since the tragedy, which took the lives of 98 residents, it is helpful to examine the psychiatric and psychological support efforts that emerged.

We can think of those support efforts as operating on two tracks: one was pursued by mental health professionals representing numerous organizations; the other was pursued by local, regional, and international first responders – specifically, by Israeli Defense Force (IDF) members who came to our community at the request of Surfside families.

Those efforts were guided by existing frameworks for crisis response designed to provide containment amid the naturally disorganizing effects of the trauma and ambiguous loss. In retrospect, it was clear that the mechanisms by which those frameworks coalesced and functioned were more implicit and organically synchronous than explicitly coordinated and agreed upon. As the rescue and support efforts proceeded, and a unique “Surfside collapse community” formed; key themes emerged and revealed intrinsic links between the first-responder/search and rescue and psychological strategies.

In this article, we discuss relevant themes and parallels between the psychological intervention/strategies and the first-responder disaster response and the practical utility of implementing an integrated strategy. Our hope is that a better understanding of these strategies will help future therapists and responders who respond to crises.
 

Setting the frame

The importance of setting a psychotherapeutic frame is indisputable regardless of theoretical orientation or therapeutic modality. Predictable, consistent conditions under which therapy takes place support a patient’s capacity to tolerate the ambiguous and unpredictable aspects of the process. Those “rules of engagement” provide a structure where subjective experiences can be formulated, organized, understood, and integrated. Twice-daily briefs held in a centralized location (dubbed the Surfside “family center”) paralleled this frame and served that same containing function by offering structure, order, and predictability amid the palpable chaos of ambiguous loss and traumatic grief. Those briefs provided key information on the status of the operation and described the rescue strategy. These were led by the Miami-Dade assistant fire chief and IDF colonel (E.E.), who presented a unified front and consistent presence.

It is essential that briefings such as these be coordinated (and unified) with clear expectations about ground rules, much like what is involved in therapeutic informed consent. In this context, rules included permissions related to documentation of meetings, information sharing, and rules of communication with the media in an effort to protect the vulnerable.

The centralized meeting location served as an important center of gravity and unified place of waiting and information receipt. It provided a dedicated space to meet with humanitarian aid organizations and government officials, and symbolized continuity, consistency, ease of information transmission, and a place where practical needs could be addressed. Meals, toiletries, and other supplies were provided to simplify and maintain daily routines. Those are otherwise unremarkable practices that seemed impossible to manage amid a crisis, yet can be inherently grounding and emotionally organizing when facing deep psychological fragmentation.

Meeting in person allowed the IDF to offer operational visuals to allow those affected to feel less helpless and cultivate a sense of purpose by being part of the strategy/mission. Their strategy included “population intelligence,” which was aimed at both information gathering to practically facilitate the rescue/recovery process (for example, locating victims, property, and recreating a visual of how the building fell), and inspiring people to participate. This engagement helped many transition from a place of denial/repression to acknowledging loss/grief, and from a passive to active part of the effort, in a way that was safe and realistic – as opposed to going to the site and aiding themselves, as some had requested.

Naturally, a central location made it possible to offer immediate psychological assistance and support. Clinicians responding to crisis should be carefully selected in light of the immense suffering, emotional vulnerability, and heightened reactivity of those affected. People were overwhelmed by deep sorrow, fear, anger, and uncertainty, vacillating between hope and despair, and mobilized by a desire to help. Those providing support need to be interpersonally skilled and able to regulate their own emotions. They must be able to formulate – in real time – an understanding of what is needed, and implement a strategic plan. Like first responders, it is also key for providers to be easily accessible and identifiable in uniform so that people in the grip of a survival response can easily identify and elicit support.

The power of strategy

The Israeli delegation and mental health approaches were aligned with respect to cultivating a team identity and keeping the team spirit elevated. The delegation’s approach was to deemphasize rank during the mission in that everyone was responsible for anything that was needed and no task was below anyone’s rank. The same was true for the mental health support response: Early interventions were focused on addressing practical needs – providing blankets, water, chargers, food, and a calming presence to counter the initial chaos. No task was too small, regardless of title or role. As more structure and order ensued, it was possible to offer more traditional crisis-related interventions aimed at grounding those affected.

Both teams worked to ensure 24-hour coverage, which was crucial given the need for consistency and continuity. Our commitment was to support the victims’ families and survivors by fully embracing the chaos and the situational demands, offering attunement and support, and satisfying both basic and higher-level needs. We divided and conquered work, observed signals of need, offered immediate support where necessary, and coordinated longer-term care plans when possible. The importance of ongoing self-care, consultation, and debriefing while doing this work cannot be overstated. Time to address basic needs and the impact of vicarious trauma as a team must be built in.
 

Importance of flexibility

This tragedy came with unique complexities and sensitivities that needed to be identified expediently and addressed with a concrete, comprehensive plan. This was true for both the rescue and psychological support efforts, and flexibility was key. There was nothing traditional about our work from a therapeutic perspective – we found quiet corners and empty offices, went for walks, met in lobbies, and checked in by phone. The interventions were brief.

Roles shifted often between aiding in addressing practical needs, advocating for victims and connecting them to appropriate resources, supporting the police in making death notifications, providing support and space for processing during and after briefings, and more.

Similarly, the rescue team constantly reevaluated their strategy because of what they discovered as they dismantled the collapsed building, in addition to managing external impacting factors (heat, rain, lightning, and the threat of the remaining structure falling).
 

Language matters

The iteration of commitment to the families/victims/mission and to work speedily and efficiently was important for both rescuers and therapists. It was key during the briefings for the chief and colonel (E.E.) to share information in a manner that was professional, discreet, honest and explicit. Their willingness and ability to be vulnerable and to share their personal feelings as active rescuers humanized them. Their approach was matter of fact, yet warm, loving, and containing, all of which conveyed dignity and respect.

Word choice mattered, and the IDF’s intentional choice to refer to recovered victims as “souls,” rather than “bodies,” conveyed their sensitivity to the intensity of anguish, depth of loss, and gravity of the situation. From a psychological perspective, the transition between “rescue” efforts signifying the potential saving of lives to “recovery” of bodies or remains was significant and demarcated a dramatic shift. The weeks-long efforts, once painfully slow, then felt too abrupt to process.

One extraordinary moment was the chief’s response to the families’ discomfort at the news of the switch from rescue to recovery. The families were anxious about losing the structure that the briefings provided and were apprehensive about the handoff from fire to the police department. With great compassion and attunement, he assured them that he would stay with them, and they together, as a family, would decide when to conclude the in-person briefings. The colonel (E.E.), too, provided assurance that neither procedure nor the urgency of the recovery would change. It was both heart-warming and containing that information related to the operation was shared in a clear manner, and that the thought process and rationale behind major decisions (e.g., demolishing the remaining building, decision to pause operations, switch from rescue to recovery) was shared. It was useful for the clinicians to be aware of this rationale in helping individuals metabolize the information and process the associated trauma and grief.
 

Unification is key

Surfside has left an indelible impact on us. We saw and experienced unity in many respects – clinicians from various backgrounds collaborating, families bonding and caring for one another, community support and solidarity, and the cooperation and coordination of the search and rescue teams. The diverse groups providing support came to feel like a family, and the importance of inter- and intrateam integration cannot be overstated. We were transformed both by our professional collaborations and authentic connections with those affected, and will forever cherish the experience, one another, the families, and the souls lost.

Dr. Feldman is a licensed clinical psychologist in private practice in Miami. She is an adjunct professor in the college of psychology at Nova Southeastern University, Fort Lauderdale, Fla., where she teaches clinical psychology doctoral students. She also serves on the board of directors of The Southeast Florida Association for Psychoanalytic Psychology. Dr. Feldman has no disclosures. Col. Edri is the Israeli Defense Forces District Commander of the Home Front Command Haifa District. He served as the deputy commander for the Israeli Defense Forces Search and Rescue Delegation, which was brought in to provide international aid to the local and domestic forces responding to the Surfside, Fla., building collapse. Col. Edri has no disclosures. Dr. Davidtz is a licensed psychologist and associate professor in the College of Psychology at Nova Southeastern University, Fort Lauderdale, Fla., where she is director of internship training for the Psychology Services Center and director of psychological services for the emotionally distressed, a specialty clinic that serves people with serious mental illness and personality disorders. She also maintains a part-time private practice specializing in the treatment of complex posttraumatic conditions and personality disorders. Dr. Davidtz has no disclosures.

Traumatic experiences, especially sexual assault, may put women at greater risk for poor brain health.

In the Ms Brain study, middle-aged women with trauma exposure had a greater volume of white matter hyperintensities (WMHs) than those without trauma. In addition, the differences persisted even after adjusting for depressive or post-traumatic stress symptoms. 

WMHs are “an important indicator of small vessel disease in the brain and have been linked to future stroke risk, dementia risk, and mortality,” lead investigator Rebecca Thurston, PhD, from the University of Pittsburgh, told this news organization.

“What I take from this is, really, that sexual assault has implications for women’s health, far beyond exclusively mental health outcomes, but also for their cardiovascular health, as we have shown in other work and for their stroke and dementia risk as we are seeing in the present work,” Dr. Thurston added.

The study was presented at the North American Menopause Society (NAMS) Annual Meeting in Washington, D.C., and has been accepted for publication in the journal Brain Imaging and Behavior.
 

Beyond the usual suspects

As part of the study, 145 women (mean age, 59 years) free of clinical cardiovascular disease, stroke, or dementia provided their medical history, including history of traumatic experiences, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder and underwent magnetic resonance brain imaging for WMHs.

More than two-thirds (68%) of the women reported at least one trauma, most commonly sexual assault (23%).

In multivariate analysis, women with trauma exposure had greater WMH volume than women without trauma (P = .01), with sexual assault most strongly associated with greater WMH volume (P = .02).

The associations persisted after adjusting for depressive or post-traumatic stress symptoms.

“A history of sexual assault was particularly related to white matter hyperintensities in the parietal lobe, and these kinds of white matter hyperintensities have been linked to Alzheimer’s disease in a fairly pronounced way,” Dr. Thurston said.

“When we think about risk factors for stroke, dementia, we need to think beyond exclusively our usual suspects and also think about women [who experienced] psychological trauma and experienced sexual assault in particular. So ask about it and consider it part of your screening regimen,” she added.
 

‘Burgeoning’ literature

Commenting on the findings, Charles Nemeroff, MD, PhD, professor and chair, department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences, Dell Medical School, University of Texas at Austin, and director of its Institute for Early Life Adversity Research, said the research adds to the “burgeoning literature on the long term neurobiological consequences of trauma and more specifically, sexual abuse, on brain imaging measures.”

“Our group and others reported several years ago that patients with mood disorders, more specifically bipolar disorder and major depression, had higher rates of WMH than matched controls. Those older studies did not control for a history of early life adversity such as childhood maltreatment,” Dr. Nemeroff said.

“In addition to this finding of increased WMH in subjects exposed to trauma is a very large literature documenting other central nervous system (CNS) changes in this population, including cortical thinning in certain brain areas and clearly an emerging finding that different forms of childhood maltreatment are associated with quite distinct structural brain alterations in adulthood,” he noted. 

The study was supported by grants from the National Institutes of Health. Dr. Thurston and Dr. Nemeroff have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Traumatic experiences, especially sexual assault, may put women at greater risk for poor brain health.

In the Ms Brain study, middle-aged women with trauma exposure had a greater volume of white matter hyperintensities (WMHs) than those without trauma. In addition, the differences persisted even after adjusting for depressive or post-traumatic stress symptoms. 

WMHs are “an important indicator of small vessel disease in the brain and have been linked to future stroke risk, dementia risk, and mortality,” lead investigator Rebecca Thurston, PhD, from the University of Pittsburgh, told this news organization.

“What I take from this is, really, that sexual assault has implications for women’s health, far beyond exclusively mental health outcomes, but also for their cardiovascular health, as we have shown in other work and for their stroke and dementia risk as we are seeing in the present work,” Dr. Thurston added.

The study was presented at the North American Menopause Society (NAMS) Annual Meeting in Washington, D.C., and has been accepted for publication in the journal Brain Imaging and Behavior.
 

Beyond the usual suspects

As part of the study, 145 women (mean age, 59 years) free of clinical cardiovascular disease, stroke, or dementia provided their medical history, including history of traumatic experiences, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder and underwent magnetic resonance brain imaging for WMHs.

More than two-thirds (68%) of the women reported at least one trauma, most commonly sexual assault (23%).

In multivariate analysis, women with trauma exposure had greater WMH volume than women without trauma (P = .01), with sexual assault most strongly associated with greater WMH volume (P = .02).

The associations persisted after adjusting for depressive or post-traumatic stress symptoms.

“A history of sexual assault was particularly related to white matter hyperintensities in the parietal lobe, and these kinds of white matter hyperintensities have been linked to Alzheimer’s disease in a fairly pronounced way,” Dr. Thurston said.

“When we think about risk factors for stroke, dementia, we need to think beyond exclusively our usual suspects and also think about women [who experienced] psychological trauma and experienced sexual assault in particular. So ask about it and consider it part of your screening regimen,” she added.
 

‘Burgeoning’ literature

Commenting on the findings, Charles Nemeroff, MD, PhD, professor and chair, department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences, Dell Medical School, University of Texas at Austin, and director of its Institute for Early Life Adversity Research, said the research adds to the “burgeoning literature on the long term neurobiological consequences of trauma and more specifically, sexual abuse, on brain imaging measures.”

“Our group and others reported several years ago that patients with mood disorders, more specifically bipolar disorder and major depression, had higher rates of WMH than matched controls. Those older studies did not control for a history of early life adversity such as childhood maltreatment,” Dr. Nemeroff said.

“In addition to this finding of increased WMH in subjects exposed to trauma is a very large literature documenting other central nervous system (CNS) changes in this population, including cortical thinning in certain brain areas and clearly an emerging finding that different forms of childhood maltreatment are associated with quite distinct structural brain alterations in adulthood,” he noted. 

The study was supported by grants from the National Institutes of Health. Dr. Thurston and Dr. Nemeroff have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Traumatic experiences, especially sexual assault, may put women at greater risk for poor brain health.

In the Ms Brain study, middle-aged women with trauma exposure had a greater volume of white matter hyperintensities (WMHs) than those without trauma. In addition, the differences persisted even after adjusting for depressive or post-traumatic stress symptoms. 

WMHs are “an important indicator of small vessel disease in the brain and have been linked to future stroke risk, dementia risk, and mortality,” lead investigator Rebecca Thurston, PhD, from the University of Pittsburgh, told this news organization.

“What I take from this is, really, that sexual assault has implications for women’s health, far beyond exclusively mental health outcomes, but also for their cardiovascular health, as we have shown in other work and for their stroke and dementia risk as we are seeing in the present work,” Dr. Thurston added.

The study was presented at the North American Menopause Society (NAMS) Annual Meeting in Washington, D.C., and has been accepted for publication in the journal Brain Imaging and Behavior.
 

Beyond the usual suspects

As part of the study, 145 women (mean age, 59 years) free of clinical cardiovascular disease, stroke, or dementia provided their medical history, including history of traumatic experiences, depression, and post-traumatic stress disorder and underwent magnetic resonance brain imaging for WMHs.

More than two-thirds (68%) of the women reported at least one trauma, most commonly sexual assault (23%).

In multivariate analysis, women with trauma exposure had greater WMH volume than women without trauma (P = .01), with sexual assault most strongly associated with greater WMH volume (P = .02).

The associations persisted after adjusting for depressive or post-traumatic stress symptoms.

“A history of sexual assault was particularly related to white matter hyperintensities in the parietal lobe, and these kinds of white matter hyperintensities have been linked to Alzheimer’s disease in a fairly pronounced way,” Dr. Thurston said.

“When we think about risk factors for stroke, dementia, we need to think beyond exclusively our usual suspects and also think about women [who experienced] psychological trauma and experienced sexual assault in particular. So ask about it and consider it part of your screening regimen,” she added.
 

‘Burgeoning’ literature

Commenting on the findings, Charles Nemeroff, MD, PhD, professor and chair, department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences, Dell Medical School, University of Texas at Austin, and director of its Institute for Early Life Adversity Research, said the research adds to the “burgeoning literature on the long term neurobiological consequences of trauma and more specifically, sexual abuse, on brain imaging measures.”

“Our group and others reported several years ago that patients with mood disorders, more specifically bipolar disorder and major depression, had higher rates of WMH than matched controls. Those older studies did not control for a history of early life adversity such as childhood maltreatment,” Dr. Nemeroff said.

“In addition to this finding of increased WMH in subjects exposed to trauma is a very large literature documenting other central nervous system (CNS) changes in this population, including cortical thinning in certain brain areas and clearly an emerging finding that different forms of childhood maltreatment are associated with quite distinct structural brain alterations in adulthood,” he noted. 

The study was supported by grants from the National Institutes of Health. Dr. Thurston and Dr. Nemeroff have disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Disturbances in gut microbiota are associated with depletion of anti-inflammatory bacteria and proliferation of proinflammatory bacteria, a pattern tied to several major psychiatric disorders including depression, bipolar disorder (BD), schizophrenia, and anxiety, new research shows.

ChrisChrisW/iStock/Getty Images Plus

A meta-analysis of 59 studies, encompassing roughly 2,600 patients with psychiatric conditions, showed a decrease in microbial richness in patients with psychiatric conditions versus controls.

In addition, those with depression, anxiety, BD, and psychosis had a similar set of abnormalities in the microbiota, particularly lower levels of Faecalibacterium and Coprococcus – two types of bacteria that have an anti-inflammatory effect in gut – and higher levels of Eggerthella, a bacterium with proinflammatory effects.

“The wealth of evidence we have summarized clearly demonstrates that the gut microbiota is vitally important to the wider mental health of individuals,” lead author Viktoriya Nikolova, MRes, Centre for Affective Disorders, King’s College London, said in an interview.

“While it is still too early to recommend specific interventions, it’s clear that clinicians need to place a greater awareness of gut health when considering the treatment of certain psychiatric disorders,” she said.

The study was published online Sept. 15, 2021, in JAMA Psychiatry.
 

Reliable biomarkers

“Evidence of gut microbiota perturbations has accumulated for multiple psychiatric disorders, with microbiota signatures proposed as potential biomarkers,” the authors wrote.

However, “while there is a wealth of evidence to suggest that abnormalities within the composition of the gut microbiota are connected to a number of psychiatric disorders, there haven’t been any attempts to evaluate the specificity of this evidence – that is, if these changes are unique to specific disorders or shared across many,” Ms. Nikolova said.

Previous research in individual disorders has identified “patterns that may be promising biomarker targets,” with the potential to “improve diagnostic accuracy, guide treatment, and assist the monitoring of treatment response,” the authors noted.

“We wanted to see if we could reliably establish biomarkers for individual conditions in an effort to further our understanding of the relationship between mental illness and gut microbiota,” said Ms. Nikolova.

The researchers wanted to “evaluate the specificity and reproducibility of gut microbiota alterations and delineate those with potential to become biomarkers.”

They identified 59 studies (64 case-control comparisons; n = 2,643 patients, 2,336 controls). Most (54.2%) were conducted in East Asia, followed by Westernized populations (40.7%) and Africa (1.7%).

These studies evaluated diversity or abundance of gut microbes in adult populations encompassing an array of psychiatric disorders: major depressive disorder (MDD), BD, psychosis and schizophrenia, eating disorders (anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa), anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), PTSD, and ADHD.

Although studies were similar in exclusion criteria, few attempted to minimize dietary changes or control dietary intake. In addition, use of psychiatric medication also “varied substantially.”

The researchers conducted several analyses, with primary outcomes consisting of “community-level measures of gut microbiota composition (alpha and beta diversity) as well as taxonomic findings at the phylum, family, and genus levels (relative abundance).”

Alpha diversity provides a “summary of the microbial community in individual samples,” which “can be compared across groups to evaluate the role of a particular factor (in this case psychiatric diagnosis) on the richness (number of species) and evenness (how well each species is represented) in the sample.”

Beta diversity, on the other hand, “measures interindividual (between samples) diversity that assesses similarity of communities, compared with the other samples analyzed.”

Control samples consisted of participants without the relevant condition.
 

Biological overlap?

The alpha-diversity meta-analysis encompassed 34 studies (n = 1,519 patients, 1,429 controls). The researchers found significant decreases in microbial richness in patients, compared with controls (observed species standardized mean difference, −0.26; 95% CI, −0.47 to −0.06; Chao1 SMD, −0.5; 95% CI, −0.79 to −0.21). On the other hand, when they examined each diagnosis separately, they found consistent decreases only in bipolar disorder. There was a small, nonsignificant decrease in phylogenetic diversity between groups.

MDD, psychosis, and schizophrenia were the only conditions in which differences in beta diversity were consistently observed.

“These findings suggest there is reliable evidence for differences in the shared phylogenetic structure in MDD and psychosis and schizophrenia compared with controls,” the authors write.

However, “method of measurement and method of patient classification (symptom vs. diagnosis based) may affect findings,” they added.

When they focused on relative abundance, they found “little evidence” of disorder specificity, but rather a “transdiagnostic pattern of microbiota signatures.”

In particular, depleted levels of Faecalibacterium and Coprococcus and enriched levels of Eggerthella were “consistently shared” between MDD, BD, psychosis and schizophrenia, and anxiety, “suggesting these disorders are characterized by a reduction of anti-inflammatory butyrate-producing bacteria, while proinflammatory genera are enriched.”

“The finding that these perturbations do not appear to be disorder-specific suggests that the microbiota is affected in a similar manner by conditions such as depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and psychosis,” said Ms. Nikolova.

“We have seen similar findings from previous meta-analyses of inflammatory marker studies and genetic studies, for example, suggesting that there is a biological overlap between these conditions, which we have now also seen in the microbiota.”

The authors highlighted potential confounders, including study region and medication use.

Conditions such as MDD, psychosis, and schizophrenia were “largely investigated in the East,” while anorexia nervosa and OCD were primarily investigated in the West.

Moreover, comparing results from medication-free studies with those in which 80% or more of patients were taking psychiatric medication showed increases in bacterial families Lactobacillaceae, Klebsiella, Streptococcus, and Megasphaera only in medicated groups, and decreases in Dialister.

In light of these confounders, the findings should be considered “preliminary,” the investigators noted.

Greater standardization needed

Commenting on the study, Emeran Mayer, MD, director of the Oppenheimer Center for Neurobiology of Stress and Resilience at the University of California, Los Angeles, said it is “intriguing to speculate that low-grade immune activation due to reduced production of butyrate may be such a generalized factor affecting microbial composition shared similarly in several brain disorders. However, such a mechanism has not been confirmed in mechanistic studies to date.”

In addition, the study “lumps together a large number of studies and heterogeneous patient populations, with and without centrally acting medication, without adequate dietary history, studied in different ethnic populations, studied with highly variable collection and analysis methods, including highly variable sample and study sizes for different diseases, and using only measures of microbial composition but not function,” cautioned Dr. Mayer, who was not involved in the research.

Future studies “with much greater standardization of subject populations and clinical and biological analyses techniques should be performed to reevaluate the results of the current study and confirm or reject the main hypotheses,” asserted Dr. Mayer, who is also the founding director of the UCLA Brain Gut Microbiome Center.

Ms. Nikolova is funded by a Medical Research Council PhD Studentship. Other sources of funding include the National Institute for Health Research Biomedical Research Centre at South London and Maudsley National Health Service Foundation Trust and King’s College London. Ms. Nikolova has disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Mayer is a scientific advisory board member of Danone, Axial Therapeutics, Viome, Amare, Mahana Therapeutics, Pendulum, Bloom Biosciences, and APC Microbiome Ireland.

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

Disturbances in gut microbiota are associated with depletion of anti-inflammatory bacteria and proliferation of proinflammatory bacteria, a pattern tied to several major psychiatric disorders including depression, bipolar disorder (BD), schizophrenia, and anxiety, new research shows.

ChrisChrisW/iStock/Getty Images Plus

A meta-analysis of 59 studies, encompassing roughly 2,600 patients with psychiatric conditions, showed a decrease in microbial richness in patients with psychiatric conditions versus controls.

In addition, those with depression, anxiety, BD, and psychosis had a similar set of abnormalities in the microbiota, particularly lower levels of Faecalibacterium and Coprococcus – two types of bacteria that have an anti-inflammatory effect in gut – and higher levels of Eggerthella, a bacterium with proinflammatory effects.

“The wealth of evidence we have summarized clearly demonstrates that the gut microbiota is vitally important to the wider mental health of individuals,” lead author Viktoriya Nikolova, MRes, Centre for Affective Disorders, King’s College London, said in an interview.

“While it is still too early to recommend specific interventions, it’s clear that clinicians need to place a greater awareness of gut health when considering the treatment of certain psychiatric disorders,” she said.

The study was published online Sept. 15, 2021, in JAMA Psychiatry.
 

Reliable biomarkers

“Evidence of gut microbiota perturbations has accumulated for multiple psychiatric disorders, with microbiota signatures proposed as potential biomarkers,” the authors wrote.

However, “while there is a wealth of evidence to suggest that abnormalities within the composition of the gut microbiota are connected to a number of psychiatric disorders, there haven’t been any attempts to evaluate the specificity of this evidence – that is, if these changes are unique to specific disorders or shared across many,” Ms. Nikolova said.

Previous research in individual disorders has identified “patterns that may be promising biomarker targets,” with the potential to “improve diagnostic accuracy, guide treatment, and assist the monitoring of treatment response,” the authors noted.

“We wanted to see if we could reliably establish biomarkers for individual conditions in an effort to further our understanding of the relationship between mental illness and gut microbiota,” said Ms. Nikolova.

The researchers wanted to “evaluate the specificity and reproducibility of gut microbiota alterations and delineate those with potential to become biomarkers.”

They identified 59 studies (64 case-control comparisons; n = 2,643 patients, 2,336 controls). Most (54.2%) were conducted in East Asia, followed by Westernized populations (40.7%) and Africa (1.7%).

These studies evaluated diversity or abundance of gut microbes in adult populations encompassing an array of psychiatric disorders: major depressive disorder (MDD), BD, psychosis and schizophrenia, eating disorders (anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa), anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), PTSD, and ADHD.

Although studies were similar in exclusion criteria, few attempted to minimize dietary changes or control dietary intake. In addition, use of psychiatric medication also “varied substantially.”

The researchers conducted several analyses, with primary outcomes consisting of “community-level measures of gut microbiota composition (alpha and beta diversity) as well as taxonomic findings at the phylum, family, and genus levels (relative abundance).”

Alpha diversity provides a “summary of the microbial community in individual samples,” which “can be compared across groups to evaluate the role of a particular factor (in this case psychiatric diagnosis) on the richness (number of species) and evenness (how well each species is represented) in the sample.”

Beta diversity, on the other hand, “measures interindividual (between samples) diversity that assesses similarity of communities, compared with the other samples analyzed.”

Control samples consisted of participants without the relevant condition.
 

Biological overlap?

The alpha-diversity meta-analysis encompassed 34 studies (n = 1,519 patients, 1,429 controls). The researchers found significant decreases in microbial richness in patients, compared with controls (observed species standardized mean difference, −0.26; 95% CI, −0.47 to −0.06; Chao1 SMD, −0.5; 95% CI, −0.79 to −0.21). On the other hand, when they examined each diagnosis separately, they found consistent decreases only in bipolar disorder. There was a small, nonsignificant decrease in phylogenetic diversity between groups.

MDD, psychosis, and schizophrenia were the only conditions in which differences in beta diversity were consistently observed.

“These findings suggest there is reliable evidence for differences in the shared phylogenetic structure in MDD and psychosis and schizophrenia compared with controls,” the authors write.

However, “method of measurement and method of patient classification (symptom vs. diagnosis based) may affect findings,” they added.

When they focused on relative abundance, they found “little evidence” of disorder specificity, but rather a “transdiagnostic pattern of microbiota signatures.”

In particular, depleted levels of Faecalibacterium and Coprococcus and enriched levels of Eggerthella were “consistently shared” between MDD, BD, psychosis and schizophrenia, and anxiety, “suggesting these disorders are characterized by a reduction of anti-inflammatory butyrate-producing bacteria, while proinflammatory genera are enriched.”

“The finding that these perturbations do not appear to be disorder-specific suggests that the microbiota is affected in a similar manner by conditions such as depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and psychosis,” said Ms. Nikolova.

“We have seen similar findings from previous meta-analyses of inflammatory marker studies and genetic studies, for example, suggesting that there is a biological overlap between these conditions, which we have now also seen in the microbiota.”

The authors highlighted potential confounders, including study region and medication use.

Conditions such as MDD, psychosis, and schizophrenia were “largely investigated in the East,” while anorexia nervosa and OCD were primarily investigated in the West.

Moreover, comparing results from medication-free studies with those in which 80% or more of patients were taking psychiatric medication showed increases in bacterial families Lactobacillaceae, Klebsiella, Streptococcus, and Megasphaera only in medicated groups, and decreases in Dialister.

In light of these confounders, the findings should be considered “preliminary,” the investigators noted.

Greater standardization needed

Commenting on the study, Emeran Mayer, MD, director of the Oppenheimer Center for Neurobiology of Stress and Resilience at the University of California, Los Angeles, said it is “intriguing to speculate that low-grade immune activation due to reduced production of butyrate may be such a generalized factor affecting microbial composition shared similarly in several brain disorders. However, such a mechanism has not been confirmed in mechanistic studies to date.”

In addition, the study “lumps together a large number of studies and heterogeneous patient populations, with and without centrally acting medication, without adequate dietary history, studied in different ethnic populations, studied with highly variable collection and analysis methods, including highly variable sample and study sizes for different diseases, and using only measures of microbial composition but not function,” cautioned Dr. Mayer, who was not involved in the research.

Future studies “with much greater standardization of subject populations and clinical and biological analyses techniques should be performed to reevaluate the results of the current study and confirm or reject the main hypotheses,” asserted Dr. Mayer, who is also the founding director of the UCLA Brain Gut Microbiome Center.

Ms. Nikolova is funded by a Medical Research Council PhD Studentship. Other sources of funding include the National Institute for Health Research Biomedical Research Centre at South London and Maudsley National Health Service Foundation Trust and King’s College London. Ms. Nikolova has disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Mayer is a scientific advisory board member of Danone, Axial Therapeutics, Viome, Amare, Mahana Therapeutics, Pendulum, Bloom Biosciences, and APC Microbiome Ireland.

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

Disturbances in gut microbiota are associated with depletion of anti-inflammatory bacteria and proliferation of proinflammatory bacteria, a pattern tied to several major psychiatric disorders including depression, bipolar disorder (BD), schizophrenia, and anxiety, new research shows.

ChrisChrisW/iStock/Getty Images Plus

A meta-analysis of 59 studies, encompassing roughly 2,600 patients with psychiatric conditions, showed a decrease in microbial richness in patients with psychiatric conditions versus controls.

In addition, those with depression, anxiety, BD, and psychosis had a similar set of abnormalities in the microbiota, particularly lower levels of Faecalibacterium and Coprococcus – two types of bacteria that have an anti-inflammatory effect in gut – and higher levels of Eggerthella, a bacterium with proinflammatory effects.

“The wealth of evidence we have summarized clearly demonstrates that the gut microbiota is vitally important to the wider mental health of individuals,” lead author Viktoriya Nikolova, MRes, Centre for Affective Disorders, King’s College London, said in an interview.

“While it is still too early to recommend specific interventions, it’s clear that clinicians need to place a greater awareness of gut health when considering the treatment of certain psychiatric disorders,” she said.

The study was published online Sept. 15, 2021, in JAMA Psychiatry.
 

Reliable biomarkers

“Evidence of gut microbiota perturbations has accumulated for multiple psychiatric disorders, with microbiota signatures proposed as potential biomarkers,” the authors wrote.

However, “while there is a wealth of evidence to suggest that abnormalities within the composition of the gut microbiota are connected to a number of psychiatric disorders, there haven’t been any attempts to evaluate the specificity of this evidence – that is, if these changes are unique to specific disorders or shared across many,” Ms. Nikolova said.

Previous research in individual disorders has identified “patterns that may be promising biomarker targets,” with the potential to “improve diagnostic accuracy, guide treatment, and assist the monitoring of treatment response,” the authors noted.

“We wanted to see if we could reliably establish biomarkers for individual conditions in an effort to further our understanding of the relationship between mental illness and gut microbiota,” said Ms. Nikolova.

The researchers wanted to “evaluate the specificity and reproducibility of gut microbiota alterations and delineate those with potential to become biomarkers.”

They identified 59 studies (64 case-control comparisons; n = 2,643 patients, 2,336 controls). Most (54.2%) were conducted in East Asia, followed by Westernized populations (40.7%) and Africa (1.7%).

These studies evaluated diversity or abundance of gut microbes in adult populations encompassing an array of psychiatric disorders: major depressive disorder (MDD), BD, psychosis and schizophrenia, eating disorders (anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa), anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), PTSD, and ADHD.

Although studies were similar in exclusion criteria, few attempted to minimize dietary changes or control dietary intake. In addition, use of psychiatric medication also “varied substantially.”

The researchers conducted several analyses, with primary outcomes consisting of “community-level measures of gut microbiota composition (alpha and beta diversity) as well as taxonomic findings at the phylum, family, and genus levels (relative abundance).”

Alpha diversity provides a “summary of the microbial community in individual samples,” which “can be compared across groups to evaluate the role of a particular factor (in this case psychiatric diagnosis) on the richness (number of species) and evenness (how well each species is represented) in the sample.”

Beta diversity, on the other hand, “measures interindividual (between samples) diversity that assesses similarity of communities, compared with the other samples analyzed.”

Control samples consisted of participants without the relevant condition.
 

Biological overlap?

The alpha-diversity meta-analysis encompassed 34 studies (n = 1,519 patients, 1,429 controls). The researchers found significant decreases in microbial richness in patients, compared with controls (observed species standardized mean difference, −0.26; 95% CI, −0.47 to −0.06; Chao1 SMD, −0.5; 95% CI, −0.79 to −0.21). On the other hand, when they examined each diagnosis separately, they found consistent decreases only in bipolar disorder. There was a small, nonsignificant decrease in phylogenetic diversity between groups.

MDD, psychosis, and schizophrenia were the only conditions in which differences in beta diversity were consistently observed.

“These findings suggest there is reliable evidence for differences in the shared phylogenetic structure in MDD and psychosis and schizophrenia compared with controls,” the authors write.

However, “method of measurement and method of patient classification (symptom vs. diagnosis based) may affect findings,” they added.

When they focused on relative abundance, they found “little evidence” of disorder specificity, but rather a “transdiagnostic pattern of microbiota signatures.”

In particular, depleted levels of Faecalibacterium and Coprococcus and enriched levels of Eggerthella were “consistently shared” between MDD, BD, psychosis and schizophrenia, and anxiety, “suggesting these disorders are characterized by a reduction of anti-inflammatory butyrate-producing bacteria, while proinflammatory genera are enriched.”

“The finding that these perturbations do not appear to be disorder-specific suggests that the microbiota is affected in a similar manner by conditions such as depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and psychosis,” said Ms. Nikolova.

“We have seen similar findings from previous meta-analyses of inflammatory marker studies and genetic studies, for example, suggesting that there is a biological overlap between these conditions, which we have now also seen in the microbiota.”

The authors highlighted potential confounders, including study region and medication use.

Conditions such as MDD, psychosis, and schizophrenia were “largely investigated in the East,” while anorexia nervosa and OCD were primarily investigated in the West.

Moreover, comparing results from medication-free studies with those in which 80% or more of patients were taking psychiatric medication showed increases in bacterial families Lactobacillaceae, Klebsiella, Streptococcus, and Megasphaera only in medicated groups, and decreases in Dialister.

In light of these confounders, the findings should be considered “preliminary,” the investigators noted.

Greater standardization needed

Commenting on the study, Emeran Mayer, MD, director of the Oppenheimer Center for Neurobiology of Stress and Resilience at the University of California, Los Angeles, said it is “intriguing to speculate that low-grade immune activation due to reduced production of butyrate may be such a generalized factor affecting microbial composition shared similarly in several brain disorders. However, such a mechanism has not been confirmed in mechanistic studies to date.”

In addition, the study “lumps together a large number of studies and heterogeneous patient populations, with and without centrally acting medication, without adequate dietary history, studied in different ethnic populations, studied with highly variable collection and analysis methods, including highly variable sample and study sizes for different diseases, and using only measures of microbial composition but not function,” cautioned Dr. Mayer, who was not involved in the research.

Future studies “with much greater standardization of subject populations and clinical and biological analyses techniques should be performed to reevaluate the results of the current study and confirm or reject the main hypotheses,” asserted Dr. Mayer, who is also the founding director of the UCLA Brain Gut Microbiome Center.

Ms. Nikolova is funded by a Medical Research Council PhD Studentship. Other sources of funding include the National Institute for Health Research Biomedical Research Centre at South London and Maudsley National Health Service Foundation Trust and King’s College London. Ms. Nikolova has disclosed no relevant financial relationships. Dr. Mayer is a scientific advisory board member of Danone, Axial Therapeutics, Viome, Amare, Mahana Therapeutics, Pendulum, Bloom Biosciences, and APC Microbiome Ireland.

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

Deployments in places such as Afghanistan and Iraq, and traumatic events such as the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks affect everyone, but military personnel and veterans face unique circumstances that can present challenges to treatment. Much progress has been made in recent years in treating people with posttraumatic stress disorder and helping them recover after traumatic events.

asiseeit/Getty Images

To explore some of those changes and challenges, this news organization interviewed Col. (Ret.) Elspeth Cameron Ritchie, MD, MPH, who retired from the Army in 2010 after assignments and missions that took her to Korea, Somalia, Iraq, and Cuba, about her approaches to treating soldiers and veterans.

Dr. Ritchie is chief of psychiatry at Medstar Washington Hospital Center, and a professor of psychiatry at the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences in Bethesda, Md., and at Georgetown University and George Washington University, both in Washington.

She is the author of 250 publications, including the book, “Forensic and Ethical Issues in Military Behavioral Health” (Fort Sam Houston, Tex.: Borden Institute, 2015). In addition, Dr. Ritchie is coeditor of “Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Related Diseases in Combat Veterans” (New York: Springer, 2015) and “Psychiatrists in Combat, Clinicians Experience in the War Zone” (New York: Springer, 2017).
 

Question: What are some of the interventions available in the aftermath of traumatic events?

Answer: What we thought the standard of care should be after a traumatic event was to have what’s called a critical incident stress debriefing (CISD). It was basically getting the members of the group who had been traumatized by a school shooting or plane crash, or the Oklahoma City bombing, getting them all together literally a few hours after the event, and having them tell what happened. And the idea is to get it all out. But what we discovered is that this could actually make people worse, because you’d be hearing not only about your own trauma, but other people’s traumas, and that it was too soon for the event.

So prior to 9/11, we had organized a conference, which was held in October 2001, just a month after 9/11. At that conference, we worked on mass violence and early intervention, which is the name of the book that came out from the (National Institute of Mental Health) as a result. It focused on basic principles of safety and security and communication, and knowing where your family was, rather than reliving the trauma. Now, we did think that sometimes you could have a CISD that would be helpful, but only when it was people who knew each other well, like an ED group who would work with each other or soldiers who served together.
 

Q: What was your involvement in the aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks?

A: At the time of 9/11, I was assigned at the Pentagon, but I wasn’t there. When the plane hit, I was actually across the river at the Navy’s Bureau of Medicine and Surgery. And then for the next 3 weeks, all I did was work at the Pentagon. We used some of these principles of early intervention but not focusing on telling us what happened right afterward. We focused on how the service members and their families were coping in the here and now, and how they could support each other.

We knew that soldiers would not come out of their offices to go to a therapist. They are too strong for that. So, we did what was called “therapy by walking around.” We went to the service members’ offices.

There was also a Family Assistance Center. That was for the families of the people who died. And that was very helpful because you had all the services there in one place – medical care, mental health care, therapy dogs, massage, the people who collected the DNA to identify remains. You had it in one place, the Sheraton in Crystal City, Va.. That has become a model now, especially for mass transportation fatalities. There are a lot more in the literature about Family Assistance Centers now, mainly formed by the National Transportation Safety Board.

Right after 9/11, we went to war in Afghanistan, and later in Iraq, and we had a lot of soldiers who developed both PTSD and traumatic brain injury (TBI). One of the good things that the military can do is they can really innovate with both medical treatment and mental health treatment because they don’t have to ask for an insurance company to pay for it. So for some years, starting in about 2004, Congress allocated a large sum of money every year to the Department of Defense to focus on treatment for PTSD and TBI.

And as a result of that, a couple of things happened. One was that the treatments that we had, we were able to study much better, exposure therapy and cognitive-behavioral therapy. We were able to do large trials, and then we continued with the use of medications when necessary. There are only two (Food and Drug Administration)–approved medicines for the treatment of PTSD: sertraline and paroxetine, but many others are used.

We also learned what didn’t work and what soldiers would not take. Most of these medications have sexual side effects. If you’re a young, healthy soldier, you really don’t want to be taking something that causes you erectile dysfunction, or in women a loss of libido. So many people wouldn’t take these therapies. As for exposure therapy, if you got into it and completed the program, usually your PTSD symptoms went down. But many people couldn’t complete it. In the exposure therapy, you’re talking about whatever trauma you’ve been through – maybe your best friend died next to you, and you don’t want to talk about that all the time.

When I talk to patients about this, I say the first bucket is medication, the second bucket is therapy, and the third bucket is everything else. And everything else includes meditation, yoga, exercise, and it also involves working with animals. There are programs where you’re paired with a service dog, who helps calm you down, and you feel protected.

One of my favorites is called Warrior Canine Connection, where a soldier with PTSD trains a puppy to become a service animal. And in the training of the dog, you have to learn to control your emotions, you have to modulate your voice, you have to appear calm. Often soldiers have a background that they’re familiar with animals, especially dogs. So that’s been very successful.

A couple of other (treatments) to mention one is called stellate ganglion block, where a little lidocaine is injected into the back of the cervical spine. It was used initially for pain control, and they found that it was actually very helpful for PTSD. Another thing we’ve learned is that pain and PTSD often go hand in hand, because if you’re in pain, you’ll be feeling awful, you won’t sleep well, you’ll have more nightmares. But if you can control both of them together, then that’s going to help.
 

Q: One issue that veterans may face is moral injury. Can you talk about that?

A: Moral injury is a term that was first used after Vietnam. Moral injury is not a psychiatric diagnosis. It is feelings of shame and guilt that can be very corrosive and can lead to suicide. It overlaps with PTSD. You feel either you’ve let yourself down, or the government has let you down. And this can be very corrosive. Another thing that could happen is, say, you switched your tour of duty with a buddy, and he got killed and you didn’t. A very common scenario is you’re manning a checkpoint, and a car comes at you and doesn’t stop like it’s supposed to. You do what you’ve been trained to do, which is open fire, and check on the car afterward. And there’s four little kids and their parents in the car all dead. And that is something that even though that was your sort of duty, that it still eats at you because you have kids the same age as the ones who were dead in the car.

You can still have these feelings of shame and guilt, and it will often bleed into your relationships with your family. And that can lead to distance and divorce, which is a further risk factor for suicide.
 

Q: Are there are any specific treatments that have been designed for moral injury, different from PTSD or other conditions?

A: The Armed Services has set up a number of intensive programs at different places, and each is a little bit different. They usually integrate moral injury in with some of the other treatments. There was one at Fort Bliss, Tex., that had reiki; they had art therapy. And they had the chaplains working on moral injury. So there’s no medical treatment for it, but there certainly is talking about it, and for some people to go to a chaplain can be very helpful.

There’s a Military Health System Centers of Excellence, which is a place by the new Walter Reed on the campus, they have a marvelous wall full of masks. And the masks have been painted by soldiers with usually a combination of PTSD, TBI, and although it’s not an official psychiatric diagnosis, moral injury. They’re able to draw and paint. Another thing that’s been used quite a bit as writing therapy, and journaling, and just writing down how you feel about something, because you can do that without retraumatizing anybody else, except perhaps if you are working with a therapist.

Q: For therapists who are treating soldiers, veterans, are there specific challenges that they should be aware of? Are these patients maybe different from the patients that they might otherwise see? Are there specific pieces of advice as to how to engage them?

A: There are a few things that are different. One is that many people in the military are not used to talking about their feelings. And that’s especially if you’ve got a young man who only grunts and says: “Hooah!” That is going to be hard to break through. And that’s why some of these other ways of reaching somebody is very effective. Also, the military likes to have physical activity; they’re usually not comfortable sitting in a chair. If you’re a civilian psychiatrist, I don’t expect you to go bungee jumping with your patients. But what I’d recommend is that you recommend to your patients that they stay active.

Another thing about veterans is that they like to be self-sufficient. They really don’t like to ask for help, although they might ask for help for their buddy. After the Pentagon and 9/11, when I was working with senior officers, they never needed any help. No, but their buddy over here might, so I could help them in the guise of providing care for their buddy in a group setting. We could work with everybody and enhance cohesion, morale, bonding, “we’re all in this together” type of feeling.

I think one thing that’s really improved is that there is less stigma around PTSD. People are more willing to present for help, and some people have called PTSD the Purple Heart of mental disorders. People don’t feel like it’s as bad as having depression or anxiety. Even though PTSD often has depression and anxiety components to it – they run hand in hand – still, it’s sort of more honorable if you’ve been at war and have gotten PTSD.
 

Q: How have you been faring yourself, in the face of the 9/11 anniversary and recent events in Afghanistan?

A: (The Sept. 11 weekend) was very sad for me – and a lot of my colleagues [with] the combination of the 20th anniversary of 9/11, and the recent development. Fortunately, I have friends and people I can talk to. I walked with a colleague of mine who was in the Army. I’m following my own rule of the three buckets, so we took a walk around the hospital center for about 45 minutes, and we have five fish ponds here. And we went and looked at the fish, and talked to the fish. At the National Rehab Hospital, they were playing the guitar. So there’s are a variety of things that people can do.
 

Deployments in places such as Afghanistan and Iraq, and traumatic events such as the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks affect everyone, but military personnel and veterans face unique circumstances that can present challenges to treatment. Much progress has been made in recent years in treating people with posttraumatic stress disorder and helping them recover after traumatic events.

asiseeit/Getty Images

To explore some of those changes and challenges, this news organization interviewed Col. (Ret.) Elspeth Cameron Ritchie, MD, MPH, who retired from the Army in 2010 after assignments and missions that took her to Korea, Somalia, Iraq, and Cuba, about her approaches to treating soldiers and veterans.

Dr. Ritchie is chief of psychiatry at Medstar Washington Hospital Center, and a professor of psychiatry at the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences in Bethesda, Md., and at Georgetown University and George Washington University, both in Washington.

She is the author of 250 publications, including the book, “Forensic and Ethical Issues in Military Behavioral Health” (Fort Sam Houston, Tex.: Borden Institute, 2015). In addition, Dr. Ritchie is coeditor of “Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Related Diseases in Combat Veterans” (New York: Springer, 2015) and “Psychiatrists in Combat, Clinicians Experience in the War Zone” (New York: Springer, 2017).
 

Question: What are some of the interventions available in the aftermath of traumatic events?

Answer: What we thought the standard of care should be after a traumatic event was to have what’s called a critical incident stress debriefing (CISD). It was basically getting the members of the group who had been traumatized by a school shooting or plane crash, or the Oklahoma City bombing, getting them all together literally a few hours after the event, and having them tell what happened. And the idea is to get it all out. But what we discovered is that this could actually make people worse, because you’d be hearing not only about your own trauma, but other people’s traumas, and that it was too soon for the event.

So prior to 9/11, we had organized a conference, which was held in October 2001, just a month after 9/11. At that conference, we worked on mass violence and early intervention, which is the name of the book that came out from the (National Institute of Mental Health) as a result. It focused on basic principles of safety and security and communication, and knowing where your family was, rather than reliving the trauma. Now, we did think that sometimes you could have a CISD that would be helpful, but only when it was people who knew each other well, like an ED group who would work with each other or soldiers who served together.
 

Q: What was your involvement in the aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks?

A: At the time of 9/11, I was assigned at the Pentagon, but I wasn’t there. When the plane hit, I was actually across the river at the Navy’s Bureau of Medicine and Surgery. And then for the next 3 weeks, all I did was work at the Pentagon. We used some of these principles of early intervention but not focusing on telling us what happened right afterward. We focused on how the service members and their families were coping in the here and now, and how they could support each other.

We knew that soldiers would not come out of their offices to go to a therapist. They are too strong for that. So, we did what was called “therapy by walking around.” We went to the service members’ offices.

There was also a Family Assistance Center. That was for the families of the people who died. And that was very helpful because you had all the services there in one place – medical care, mental health care, therapy dogs, massage, the people who collected the DNA to identify remains. You had it in one place, the Sheraton in Crystal City, Va.. That has become a model now, especially for mass transportation fatalities. There are a lot more in the literature about Family Assistance Centers now, mainly formed by the National Transportation Safety Board.

Right after 9/11, we went to war in Afghanistan, and later in Iraq, and we had a lot of soldiers who developed both PTSD and traumatic brain injury (TBI). One of the good things that the military can do is they can really innovate with both medical treatment and mental health treatment because they don’t have to ask for an insurance company to pay for it. So for some years, starting in about 2004, Congress allocated a large sum of money every year to the Department of Defense to focus on treatment for PTSD and TBI.

And as a result of that, a couple of things happened. One was that the treatments that we had, we were able to study much better, exposure therapy and cognitive-behavioral therapy. We were able to do large trials, and then we continued with the use of medications when necessary. There are only two (Food and Drug Administration)–approved medicines for the treatment of PTSD: sertraline and paroxetine, but many others are used.

We also learned what didn’t work and what soldiers would not take. Most of these medications have sexual side effects. If you’re a young, healthy soldier, you really don’t want to be taking something that causes you erectile dysfunction, or in women a loss of libido. So many people wouldn’t take these therapies. As for exposure therapy, if you got into it and completed the program, usually your PTSD symptoms went down. But many people couldn’t complete it. In the exposure therapy, you’re talking about whatever trauma you’ve been through – maybe your best friend died next to you, and you don’t want to talk about that all the time.

When I talk to patients about this, I say the first bucket is medication, the second bucket is therapy, and the third bucket is everything else. And everything else includes meditation, yoga, exercise, and it also involves working with animals. There are programs where you’re paired with a service dog, who helps calm you down, and you feel protected.

One of my favorites is called Warrior Canine Connection, where a soldier with PTSD trains a puppy to become a service animal. And in the training of the dog, you have to learn to control your emotions, you have to modulate your voice, you have to appear calm. Often soldiers have a background that they’re familiar with animals, especially dogs. So that’s been very successful.

A couple of other (treatments) to mention one is called stellate ganglion block, where a little lidocaine is injected into the back of the cervical spine. It was used initially for pain control, and they found that it was actually very helpful for PTSD. Another thing we’ve learned is that pain and PTSD often go hand in hand, because if you’re in pain, you’ll be feeling awful, you won’t sleep well, you’ll have more nightmares. But if you can control both of them together, then that’s going to help.
 

Q: One issue that veterans may face is moral injury. Can you talk about that?

A: Moral injury is a term that was first used after Vietnam. Moral injury is not a psychiatric diagnosis. It is feelings of shame and guilt that can be very corrosive and can lead to suicide. It overlaps with PTSD. You feel either you’ve let yourself down, or the government has let you down. And this can be very corrosive. Another thing that could happen is, say, you switched your tour of duty with a buddy, and he got killed and you didn’t. A very common scenario is you’re manning a checkpoint, and a car comes at you and doesn’t stop like it’s supposed to. You do what you’ve been trained to do, which is open fire, and check on the car afterward. And there’s four little kids and their parents in the car all dead. And that is something that even though that was your sort of duty, that it still eats at you because you have kids the same age as the ones who were dead in the car.

You can still have these feelings of shame and guilt, and it will often bleed into your relationships with your family. And that can lead to distance and divorce, which is a further risk factor for suicide.
 

Q: Are there are any specific treatments that have been designed for moral injury, different from PTSD or other conditions?

A: The Armed Services has set up a number of intensive programs at different places, and each is a little bit different. They usually integrate moral injury in with some of the other treatments. There was one at Fort Bliss, Tex., that had reiki; they had art therapy. And they had the chaplains working on moral injury. So there’s no medical treatment for it, but there certainly is talking about it, and for some people to go to a chaplain can be very helpful.

There’s a Military Health System Centers of Excellence, which is a place by the new Walter Reed on the campus, they have a marvelous wall full of masks. And the masks have been painted by soldiers with usually a combination of PTSD, TBI, and although it’s not an official psychiatric diagnosis, moral injury. They’re able to draw and paint. Another thing that’s been used quite a bit as writing therapy, and journaling, and just writing down how you feel about something, because you can do that without retraumatizing anybody else, except perhaps if you are working with a therapist.

Q: For therapists who are treating soldiers, veterans, are there specific challenges that they should be aware of? Are these patients maybe different from the patients that they might otherwise see? Are there specific pieces of advice as to how to engage them?

A: There are a few things that are different. One is that many people in the military are not used to talking about their feelings. And that’s especially if you’ve got a young man who only grunts and says: “Hooah!” That is going to be hard to break through. And that’s why some of these other ways of reaching somebody is very effective. Also, the military likes to have physical activity; they’re usually not comfortable sitting in a chair. If you’re a civilian psychiatrist, I don’t expect you to go bungee jumping with your patients. But what I’d recommend is that you recommend to your patients that they stay active.

Another thing about veterans is that they like to be self-sufficient. They really don’t like to ask for help, although they might ask for help for their buddy. After the Pentagon and 9/11, when I was working with senior officers, they never needed any help. No, but their buddy over here might, so I could help them in the guise of providing care for their buddy in a group setting. We could work with everybody and enhance cohesion, morale, bonding, “we’re all in this together” type of feeling.

I think one thing that’s really improved is that there is less stigma around PTSD. People are more willing to present for help, and some people have called PTSD the Purple Heart of mental disorders. People don’t feel like it’s as bad as having depression or anxiety. Even though PTSD often has depression and anxiety components to it – they run hand in hand – still, it’s sort of more honorable if you’ve been at war and have gotten PTSD.
 

Q: How have you been faring yourself, in the face of the 9/11 anniversary and recent events in Afghanistan?

A: (The Sept. 11 weekend) was very sad for me – and a lot of my colleagues [with] the combination of the 20th anniversary of 9/11, and the recent development. Fortunately, I have friends and people I can talk to. I walked with a colleague of mine who was in the Army. I’m following my own rule of the three buckets, so we took a walk around the hospital center for about 45 minutes, and we have five fish ponds here. And we went and looked at the fish, and talked to the fish. At the National Rehab Hospital, they were playing the guitar. So there’s are a variety of things that people can do.
 

Deployments in places such as Afghanistan and Iraq, and traumatic events such as the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks affect everyone, but military personnel and veterans face unique circumstances that can present challenges to treatment. Much progress has been made in recent years in treating people with posttraumatic stress disorder and helping them recover after traumatic events.

asiseeit/Getty Images

To explore some of those changes and challenges, this news organization interviewed Col. (Ret.) Elspeth Cameron Ritchie, MD, MPH, who retired from the Army in 2010 after assignments and missions that took her to Korea, Somalia, Iraq, and Cuba, about her approaches to treating soldiers and veterans.

Dr. Ritchie is chief of psychiatry at Medstar Washington Hospital Center, and a professor of psychiatry at the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences in Bethesda, Md., and at Georgetown University and George Washington University, both in Washington.

She is the author of 250 publications, including the book, “Forensic and Ethical Issues in Military Behavioral Health” (Fort Sam Houston, Tex.: Borden Institute, 2015). In addition, Dr. Ritchie is coeditor of “Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Related Diseases in Combat Veterans” (New York: Springer, 2015) and “Psychiatrists in Combat, Clinicians Experience in the War Zone” (New York: Springer, 2017).
 

Question: What are some of the interventions available in the aftermath of traumatic events?

Answer: What we thought the standard of care should be after a traumatic event was to have what’s called a critical incident stress debriefing (CISD). It was basically getting the members of the group who had been traumatized by a school shooting or plane crash, or the Oklahoma City bombing, getting them all together literally a few hours after the event, and having them tell what happened. And the idea is to get it all out. But what we discovered is that this could actually make people worse, because you’d be hearing not only about your own trauma, but other people’s traumas, and that it was too soon for the event.

So prior to 9/11, we had organized a conference, which was held in October 2001, just a month after 9/11. At that conference, we worked on mass violence and early intervention, which is the name of the book that came out from the (National Institute of Mental Health) as a result. It focused on basic principles of safety and security and communication, and knowing where your family was, rather than reliving the trauma. Now, we did think that sometimes you could have a CISD that would be helpful, but only when it was people who knew each other well, like an ED group who would work with each other or soldiers who served together.
 

Q: What was your involvement in the aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks?

A: At the time of 9/11, I was assigned at the Pentagon, but I wasn’t there. When the plane hit, I was actually across the river at the Navy’s Bureau of Medicine and Surgery. And then for the next 3 weeks, all I did was work at the Pentagon. We used some of these principles of early intervention but not focusing on telling us what happened right afterward. We focused on how the service members and their families were coping in the here and now, and how they could support each other.

We knew that soldiers would not come out of their offices to go to a therapist. They are too strong for that. So, we did what was called “therapy by walking around.” We went to the service members’ offices.

There was also a Family Assistance Center. That was for the families of the people who died. And that was very helpful because you had all the services there in one place – medical care, mental health care, therapy dogs, massage, the people who collected the DNA to identify remains. You had it in one place, the Sheraton in Crystal City, Va.. That has become a model now, especially for mass transportation fatalities. There are a lot more in the literature about Family Assistance Centers now, mainly formed by the National Transportation Safety Board.

Right after 9/11, we went to war in Afghanistan, and later in Iraq, and we had a lot of soldiers who developed both PTSD and traumatic brain injury (TBI). One of the good things that the military can do is they can really innovate with both medical treatment and mental health treatment because they don’t have to ask for an insurance company to pay for it. So for some years, starting in about 2004, Congress allocated a large sum of money every year to the Department of Defense to focus on treatment for PTSD and TBI.

And as a result of that, a couple of things happened. One was that the treatments that we had, we were able to study much better, exposure therapy and cognitive-behavioral therapy. We were able to do large trials, and then we continued with the use of medications when necessary. There are only two (Food and Drug Administration)–approved medicines for the treatment of PTSD: sertraline and paroxetine, but many others are used.

We also learned what didn’t work and what soldiers would not take. Most of these medications have sexual side effects. If you’re a young, healthy soldier, you really don’t want to be taking something that causes you erectile dysfunction, or in women a loss of libido. So many people wouldn’t take these therapies. As for exposure therapy, if you got into it and completed the program, usually your PTSD symptoms went down. But many people couldn’t complete it. In the exposure therapy, you’re talking about whatever trauma you’ve been through – maybe your best friend died next to you, and you don’t want to talk about that all the time.

When I talk to patients about this, I say the first bucket is medication, the second bucket is therapy, and the third bucket is everything else. And everything else includes meditation, yoga, exercise, and it also involves working with animals. There are programs where you’re paired with a service dog, who helps calm you down, and you feel protected.

One of my favorites is called Warrior Canine Connection, where a soldier with PTSD trains a puppy to become a service animal. And in the training of the dog, you have to learn to control your emotions, you have to modulate your voice, you have to appear calm. Often soldiers have a background that they’re familiar with animals, especially dogs. So that’s been very successful.

A couple of other (treatments) to mention one is called stellate ganglion block, where a little lidocaine is injected into the back of the cervical spine. It was used initially for pain control, and they found that it was actually very helpful for PTSD. Another thing we’ve learned is that pain and PTSD often go hand in hand, because if you’re in pain, you’ll be feeling awful, you won’t sleep well, you’ll have more nightmares. But if you can control both of them together, then that’s going to help.
 

Q: One issue that veterans may face is moral injury. Can you talk about that?

A: Moral injury is a term that was first used after Vietnam. Moral injury is not a psychiatric diagnosis. It is feelings of shame and guilt that can be very corrosive and can lead to suicide. It overlaps with PTSD. You feel either you’ve let yourself down, or the government has let you down. And this can be very corrosive. Another thing that could happen is, say, you switched your tour of duty with a buddy, and he got killed and you didn’t. A very common scenario is you’re manning a checkpoint, and a car comes at you and doesn’t stop like it’s supposed to. You do what you’ve been trained to do, which is open fire, and check on the car afterward. And there’s four little kids and their parents in the car all dead. And that is something that even though that was your sort of duty, that it still eats at you because you have kids the same age as the ones who were dead in the car.

You can still have these feelings of shame and guilt, and it will often bleed into your relationships with your family. And that can lead to distance and divorce, which is a further risk factor for suicide.
 

Q: Are there are any specific treatments that have been designed for moral injury, different from PTSD or other conditions?

A: The Armed Services has set up a number of intensive programs at different places, and each is a little bit different. They usually integrate moral injury in with some of the other treatments. There was one at Fort Bliss, Tex., that had reiki; they had art therapy. And they had the chaplains working on moral injury. So there’s no medical treatment for it, but there certainly is talking about it, and for some people to go to a chaplain can be very helpful.

There’s a Military Health System Centers of Excellence, which is a place by the new Walter Reed on the campus, they have a marvelous wall full of masks. And the masks have been painted by soldiers with usually a combination of PTSD, TBI, and although it’s not an official psychiatric diagnosis, moral injury. They’re able to draw and paint. Another thing that’s been used quite a bit as writing therapy, and journaling, and just writing down how you feel about something, because you can do that without retraumatizing anybody else, except perhaps if you are working with a therapist.

Q: For therapists who are treating soldiers, veterans, are there specific challenges that they should be aware of? Are these patients maybe different from the patients that they might otherwise see? Are there specific pieces of advice as to how to engage them?

A: There are a few things that are different. One is that many people in the military are not used to talking about their feelings. And that’s especially if you’ve got a young man who only grunts and says: “Hooah!” That is going to be hard to break through. And that’s why some of these other ways of reaching somebody is very effective. Also, the military likes to have physical activity; they’re usually not comfortable sitting in a chair. If you’re a civilian psychiatrist, I don’t expect you to go bungee jumping with your patients. But what I’d recommend is that you recommend to your patients that they stay active.

Another thing about veterans is that they like to be self-sufficient. They really don’t like to ask for help, although they might ask for help for their buddy. After the Pentagon and 9/11, when I was working with senior officers, they never needed any help. No, but their buddy over here might, so I could help them in the guise of providing care for their buddy in a group setting. We could work with everybody and enhance cohesion, morale, bonding, “we’re all in this together” type of feeling.

I think one thing that’s really improved is that there is less stigma around PTSD. People are more willing to present for help, and some people have called PTSD the Purple Heart of mental disorders. People don’t feel like it’s as bad as having depression or anxiety. Even though PTSD often has depression and anxiety components to it – they run hand in hand – still, it’s sort of more honorable if you’ve been at war and have gotten PTSD.
 

Q: How have you been faring yourself, in the face of the 9/11 anniversary and recent events in Afghanistan?

A: (The Sept. 11 weekend) was very sad for me – and a lot of my colleagues [with] the combination of the 20th anniversary of 9/11, and the recent development. Fortunately, I have friends and people I can talk to. I walked with a colleague of mine who was in the Army. I’m following my own rule of the three buckets, so we took a walk around the hospital center for about 45 minutes, and we have five fish ponds here. And we went and looked at the fish, and talked to the fish. At the National Rehab Hospital, they were playing the guitar. So there’s are a variety of things that people can do.
 

Borderline personality disorder (BPD) has suffered from underdiagnosis, in part because not enough clinicians know how to handle patients with BPD. “They don’t have the tools to know how to manage these situations effectively,” Lois W. Choi-Kain, MEd, MD, director of the Gunderson Personality Disorders Institute, McLean Hospital, Belmont, Mass., said in an interview.

As a result, the clinician avoids the BPD patient, who feels demeaned and never finds the capacity to get better.

Psychiatry training in residency tends to emphasize biomedical treatments and does not focus enough on learning psychotherapy and other psychosocial treatments, according to Eric M. Plakun, MD, DLFAPA, FACPsych, medical director/CEO of the Austen Riggs Center in Stockbridge, Mass.

“This is where I see the need for a greater psychotherapy teaching focus in residency, along with teaching of general principles for working with patients with BPD,” said Dr. Plakun.

In his last phase of his career, BPD pioneer John G. Gunderson, MD, worked with Dr. Choi-Kain to train clinicians on general psychiatric management (GPM), which employs a sensitive, nonattacking approach to diffuse and calm situations with BPD patients.

As interest grows in combining GPM with manual treatments, GPM alone offers a more accessible approach for therapist and patient, said Dr. Choi-Kain, who has been trying to promote its use and do research on its techniques.

“It’s trying to boil it down to make it simple,” she said. As much as evidence-based, manualized approaches have advanced the field, they’re just not that widely available, she said.

Orchestrating treatments such as dialectical behavior therapy and mentalization-based therapy takes a lot of specialization, noted Dr. Choi-Kain. “And because of the amount of work that it involves for both the clinician and the patient, it decreases the capacity that clinicians and systems have to offer treatment to a wider number of patients.”

Learning a manualized treatment for BPD is asking a lot from residents, agreed Dr. Plakun. “Those who want more immersion in treating these patients can pursue further training in residency electives, in postresidency graduate medical education programs or through psychoanalytic training.”

Borderline personality disorder (BPD) has suffered from underdiagnosis, in part because not enough clinicians know how to handle patients with BPD. “They don’t have the tools to know how to manage these situations effectively,” Lois W. Choi-Kain, MEd, MD, director of the Gunderson Personality Disorders Institute, McLean Hospital, Belmont, Mass., said in an interview.

As a result, the clinician avoids the BPD patient, who feels demeaned and never finds the capacity to get better.

Psychiatry training in residency tends to emphasize biomedical treatments and does not focus enough on learning psychotherapy and other psychosocial treatments, according to Eric M. Plakun, MD, DLFAPA, FACPsych, medical director/CEO of the Austen Riggs Center in Stockbridge, Mass.

“This is where I see the need for a greater psychotherapy teaching focus in residency, along with teaching of general principles for working with patients with BPD,” said Dr. Plakun.

In his last phase of his career, BPD pioneer John G. Gunderson, MD, worked with Dr. Choi-Kain to train clinicians on general psychiatric management (GPM), which employs a sensitive, nonattacking approach to diffuse and calm situations with BPD patients.

As interest grows in combining GPM with manual treatments, GPM alone offers a more accessible approach for therapist and patient, said Dr. Choi-Kain, who has been trying to promote its use and do research on its techniques.

“It’s trying to boil it down to make it simple,” she said. As much as evidence-based, manualized approaches have advanced the field, they’re just not that widely available, she said.

Orchestrating treatments such as dialectical behavior therapy and mentalization-based therapy takes a lot of specialization, noted Dr. Choi-Kain. “And because of the amount of work that it involves for both the clinician and the patient, it decreases the capacity that clinicians and systems have to offer treatment to a wider number of patients.”

Learning a manualized treatment for BPD is asking a lot from residents, agreed Dr. Plakun. “Those who want more immersion in treating these patients can pursue further training in residency electives, in postresidency graduate medical education programs or through psychoanalytic training.”

Borderline personality disorder (BPD) has suffered from underdiagnosis, in part because not enough clinicians know how to handle patients with BPD. “They don’t have the tools to know how to manage these situations effectively,” Lois W. Choi-Kain, MEd, MD, director of the Gunderson Personality Disorders Institute, McLean Hospital, Belmont, Mass., said in an interview.

As a result, the clinician avoids the BPD patient, who feels demeaned and never finds the capacity to get better.

Psychiatry training in residency tends to emphasize biomedical treatments and does not focus enough on learning psychotherapy and other psychosocial treatments, according to Eric M. Plakun, MD, DLFAPA, FACPsych, medical director/CEO of the Austen Riggs Center in Stockbridge, Mass.

“This is where I see the need for a greater psychotherapy teaching focus in residency, along with teaching of general principles for working with patients with BPD,” said Dr. Plakun.

In his last phase of his career, BPD pioneer John G. Gunderson, MD, worked with Dr. Choi-Kain to train clinicians on general psychiatric management (GPM), which employs a sensitive, nonattacking approach to diffuse and calm situations with BPD patients.

As interest grows in combining GPM with manual treatments, GPM alone offers a more accessible approach for therapist and patient, said Dr. Choi-Kain, who has been trying to promote its use and do research on its techniques.

“It’s trying to boil it down to make it simple,” she said. As much as evidence-based, manualized approaches have advanced the field, they’re just not that widely available, she said.

Orchestrating treatments such as dialectical behavior therapy and mentalization-based therapy takes a lot of specialization, noted Dr. Choi-Kain. “And because of the amount of work that it involves for both the clinician and the patient, it decreases the capacity that clinicians and systems have to offer treatment to a wider number of patients.”

Learning a manualized treatment for BPD is asking a lot from residents, agreed Dr. Plakun. “Those who want more immersion in treating these patients can pursue further training in residency electives, in postresidency graduate medical education programs or through psychoanalytic training.”

Difficulties associated with treating borderline personality disorder (BPD) make for an uneasy alliance between patient and clinician. Deep-seated anxiety and trust issues often lead to patients skipping visits or raging at those who treat them, leaving clinicians frustrated and ready to give up or relying on a pill to make the patient better.

John M. Oldham, MD, MS, recalls one patient he almost lost, a woman who was struggling with aggressive behavior. Initially cooperative and punctual, the patient gradually became distrustful, grilling Dr. Oldham on his training and credentials. “As the questions continued, she slipped from being very cooperative to being enraged and attacking me,” said Dr. Oldham, Distinguished Emeritus Professor in the Menninger department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Baylor College in Houston.

Dr. Oldham eventually drew her back in by earning her trust. “There’s no magic to this,” he acknowledged. “You try to be as alert and informed and vigilant for anything you say that produces a negative or concerning reaction in the patient.”

This interactive approach to BPD treatment has been gaining traction in a profession that often looks to medications to alleviate specific symptoms. It’s so effective that it sometimes even surprises the patient, Dr. Oldham noted. “When you approach them like this, they can begin to settle down,” which was the case with the female patient he once treated.

About 1.4% of the U.S. population has BPD, according to the National Institute of Mental Health. Conceptualized by the late John G. Gunderson, MD, BPD initially was seen as floating on the borderline between psychosis and neurosis. Clinicians now understand that this isn’t the case. The patients need, as Dr. Gunderson once pointed out, constant vigilance because of attachment issues and childhood trauma.

A stable therapeutic alliance between patient and physician, sometimes in combination with evidence-based therapies, is a formula for success, some experts say.
 

A misunderstood condition

Although there is some degree of heritable risk, BPD patients are often the product of an invalidating environment in childhood. “As kids, we’re guided and nurtured by caring adults to provide models of reasonable, trustworthy behavior. If those role models are missing or just so inconsistent and unpredictable, the patient doesn’t end up with a sturdy self-image. Instead, they’re adrift, trying to figure out who will be helpful and be a meaningful, trustworthy companion and adviser,” Dr. Oldham said.

Emotional or affective instability and impulsivity, sometimes impulsive aggression, often characterize their condition. “Brain-imaging studies have revealed that certain nerve pathways that are necessary to regulate emotions are impoverished in patients with BPD,” Dr. Oldham said.

An analogy is a car going too fast, with a runaway engine that’s running too hot – and the brakes don’t work, he added.

“People think these patients are trying to create big drama, that they’re putting on a big show. That’s not accurate,” he continued. These patients don’t have the ability to stop the trigger that leads to their emotional storms. They also don’t have the ability to regulate themselves. “We may say, it’s a beautiful day outside, but I still have to go to work. Someone with BPD may say: It’s a beautiful day; I’m going to the beach,” Dr. Oldham explained.

A person with BPD might sound coherent when arguing with someone else. But their words are driven by the storm they can’t turn off.

This can lead to their own efforts to turn off the intensity. They might become self-injurious or push other people away. It’s one of the ironies of this condition because BPD patients desperately want to trust others but are scared to do so. “They look for any little signal – that someone else will hurt, disappoint, or leave them. Eventually their relationships unravel,” Dr. Oldham saod.

For some, suicide is sometimes a final solution.

Those traits make it difficult for a therapist to connect with a patient. “This is a very difficult group of people to treat and to establish treatment,” said Michael A. Cummings, MD, of the department of psychiatry at University of California, Riverside, and a psychopharmacology consultant with the California Department of State Hospitals’ Psychopharmacology Resource Network.

BPD patients tend to idealize people who are attempting to help them. When they become frustrated or disappointed in some way, “they then devalue the caregiver or the treatment and not infrequently, fall out of treatment,” Dr. Cummings said. It can be a very taxing experience, particularly for younger, less experienced therapists.
 

Medication only goes so far

Psychiatrists tend to look at BPD patients as receptor sites for molecules, assessing symptoms they can prescribe for, Eric M. Plakun, MD, DLFAPA, FACPsych, medical director/CEO of the Austen Riggs Center in Stockbridge, Mass., said in an interview.

Yet, BPD is not a molecular problem, principally. It’s an interpersonal disorder. When BPD is a co-occurring disorder, as is often the case, the depressive, anxiety, or other disorder can mask the BPD, he added, citing his 2018 paper on tensions in psychiatry between the biomedical and biopsychosocial models (Psychiatr Clin North Am. 2018 Jun;41[2]:237-48).

In one longitudinal study (J Pers Disord. 2005 Oct;19[5]:487-504), the presence of BPD strongly predicted the persistence of depression. BPD comorbid with depression is often a recipe for treatment-resistant depression, which results in higher costs, more utilization of resources, and higher suicide rates. Too often, psychiatrists diagnose the depression but miss the BPD. They keep trying molecular approaches with prescription drugs – even though it’s really the interpersonal issues of BPD that need to be addressed, said Dr. Plakun, who is a member of the Group for the Advancement of Psychiatry’s Psychotherapy Committee, and founder and past leader of the American Psychiatric Association’s Psychotherapy Caucus.

Medication can be helpful as a short-term adjunctive therapy. Long term, it’s not a sustainable approach, said Dr. Oldham. “If a patient is in a particularly stressful period, in the middle of a stormy breakup or having a depressive episode or talking about suicide, a time-limited course of an antidepressant may be helpful,” he said. They could also benefit from an anxiety-related drug or medication to help them sleep.

What you don’t want is for the patient to start relying on medications to help them feel better. The problem is, many are suffering so much that they’ll go to their primary care doctor and say, “I’m suffering from anxiety,” and get an antianxiety drug. Or they’re depressed or in pain and end up with a cocktail of medications. “And that’s just going to make matters worse,” Dr. Oldham said.
 

Psychotherapy as a first-line approach

APA practice guidelines and others worldwide have all come to the same conclusion about BPD. The primary or core treatment for this condition is psychotherapy, said Dr. Oldham, who chaired an APA committee that developed an evidence-based practice guideline for patients with BPD.

Psychotherapy keeps the patient from firing you, he asserted. “Because of the lack of trust, they push away. They’re very scared, and this fear also applies to therapist. The goal is to help the patient learn to trust you. To do that, you need to develop a strong therapeutic alliance.”

In crafting the APA’s practice guideline, Dr. Oldham and his colleagues studied a variety of approaches, including mentalization-based therapy (MBT) and dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), which was developed by Marsha Linehan, PhD. Since then, other approaches have demonstrated efficacy in randomized clinical trials, including schema-based therapy (SBT), cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), and transference-focused psychotherapy (TFP).

Those treatments might complement the broader goal of establishing a strong alliance with the patient, Dr. Oldham said. Manualized approaches can help prepackage a program that allows clinicians and patients to look at their problems in an objective, nonpejorative way, Lois W. Choi-Kain, MD, MEd, director of the Gunderson Personality Disorders Institute at McLean Hospital in Belmont, Mass., said in an interview. DBT, for example, focuses on emotion dysregulation. MBT addresses how the patient sees themselves through others and their interactions with others. “It destigmatizes a problem as a clinical entity rather than an interpersonal problem between the patient and the clinician,” Dr. Choi-Kain said.

The choice of approach depends on several factors: the patient’s needs and preferences, and the therapist’s skills and experience, said Dr. Oldham. Some patients don’t do well with DBT because it involves a lot of homework and didactic work. Others do better with TFP because they want to understand what drives their behavior.

Dr. Cummings recalled how one of his patients used TFP to look inward and heal.

He first met the patient when she was in her early 30s. “She had made some progress, but I remember she was still struggling mightily with relationship issues and with identifying her role in relationships,” he said. The patient was becoming increasingly aware that she was going to end up alone and didn’t want that as an outcome.

Adapting to a TFP model, “she worked very hard trying to understand herself as she related to other people, understanding her own emotional volatility, and some of her proneness to behavioral problems,” Dr. Cummings said. The patient also had to learn how to negotiate her relationships to the point where she didn’t end up destroying them and alienating people.
 

Customizing the treatment

Physicians can choose from one of these manualized forms of treatment to see what’s appropriate and what works for the patient. “You can individualize the treatment, borrowing from these approaches and shaping it based on what your patient needs,” Dr. Oldham recommended.

Recently, the field of psychiatry has seen the benefits of combining manualized, evidence-based approaches with general psychiatric management (GPM), a method conceived by Dr. Gunderson. GPM “reflects a sensitive understanding of mental illness, offering ‘non attacking’ or collaborative work with the patient and a sensitive recognition of appropriate interventions or corrections to help the patient stay in treatment,” said Dr. Oldham.

It aims to conceptualize BPD in a clinically objective way, medicalizing the disorder so it’s something that the patient has, rather than something he or she is, explained Dr. Choi-Kain, who worked with Dr. Gunderson to train clinicians on using this approach. Using a framework that’s compatible with good medical practices, the clinician tries to define the problem together with the patient, “really assessing whether or not the treatment works, setting goals, managing safety, and trying to promote functioning, something we need to pay more attention to with BPD,” she said.

For these patients, the goal is to have positive, corrective experiences in the real world, reinforcing their hopes and what they’re capable of, and an interface with the world that makes them feel like contributors, she said.

Cycle of rupture and repair

Many people with BPD struggle with the desire to find and feel love, but also deal with their rage and hate. Hence, therapists must prepare themselves for the experience of sometimes being hated, said Dr. Plakun. The patient needs to feel they’re in a safe enough space to express those feelings, activating a cycle of “rupture and repair,” he continued.

The key in working with these patients is to avoid any language that will make them feel attacked or criticized, said Dr. Oldham.

A patient may get furious and say “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t say that.” When in truth, the psychiatrist is flat accurate about what the patient said. Instead of arguing with the patient, a physician can back up and say: “Help me understand what you’re feeling right now. What did I say that made you feel that you couldn’t trust me? Help me understand you. I may have made a mistake,” he advised.

Trust is a key ingredient in an alliance-based intervention for suicidal patients with BPD that Dr. Plakun has frequently written about. A bond he had with a deeply suicidal patient helped her overcome her grief and come to terms with an abusive childhood.

“She had a horrible history of abuse and had BPD and bipolar disorder. Even controlled with medications her life was still awful. She contemplated suicide relentlessly.” Working through her history of sexual abuse, the patient discovered that much of what she and clinicians thought of as a depressive illness was in fact intense grief about the irreparable damage that had taken place during childhood.

Through their work she was able to mourn, and her depression and BPD improved.

Developing a trusting relationship with the patient isn’t a starting point; it’s the goal, he emphasized.

“You don’t prescribe trust to someone. It’s earned.” Through the shared journey of therapy, as the patient suffers from inevitable injuries and ruptures and as the therapist reveals his or her imperfections, opportunities arise to nonjudgmentally examine and repair ruptures. This lead to gains in trust, he said.
 

It’s not just about genes

Many in the psychiatric and psychological communities tend to develop a very nihilistic view of BPD patients, observed Dr. Cummings. “They’ll say: ‘Oh, well, it’s hopeless. There’s nothing that can be done.’ That isn’t true,” he said.

Epidemiologic studies of these individuals have shown that many of these patients no longer meet the diagnostic criteria for BPD by the time they reach middle age. This means they get better over time, noted Dr. Cummings.

Dr. Plakun’s hope is that the field will evolve in a direction that recognizes the importance of psychosocial treatments like psychotherapy, in addition to biomedical treatments. The drive to medicate still exists, which can contribute to underdiagnosis and undertreatment of BPD, he said. “Although there are manualized, evidence-based treatments, few clinicians learn even one of these for BPD, not to mention those for other disorders.”

In 1996, Francis S. Collins, MD, PhD, the current director of the National Institutes of Health, predicted that the decoding of the human genome would transform treatment of medical and mental disorders [and] “that we would discover the ways in which genes equal disease,” said Dr. Plakun. What the science has since shown, is genes by environmental interaction lead to disease and health.

Nature and nurture both matter. “And I don’t think we’re paying enough attention to the nurture side,” Dr. Plakun said.

The solution is a return to a biopsychosocial model, recognizing that psychotherapy is an essential part of treatment of BPD and other conditions, and an essential clinician skill, he said.

Dr. Oldham is coeditor of the “Textbook of Personality Disorders”, 3rd edition (Washington: American Psychiatric Association Publishing, 2021).Dr. Choi-Kain is coeditor with Dr. Gunderson of “Applications of Good Psychiatric Management for Borderline Personality Disorder: A Practical Guide” (Washington: American Psychiatric Association Publishing, 2019).

Dr. Cummings and Dr. Plakun had no disclosures.

Difficulties associated with treating borderline personality disorder (BPD) make for an uneasy alliance between patient and clinician. Deep-seated anxiety and trust issues often lead to patients skipping visits or raging at those who treat them, leaving clinicians frustrated and ready to give up or relying on a pill to make the patient better.

John M. Oldham, MD, MS, recalls one patient he almost lost, a woman who was struggling with aggressive behavior. Initially cooperative and punctual, the patient gradually became distrustful, grilling Dr. Oldham on his training and credentials. “As the questions continued, she slipped from being very cooperative to being enraged and attacking me,” said Dr. Oldham, Distinguished Emeritus Professor in the Menninger department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Baylor College in Houston.

Dr. Oldham eventually drew her back in by earning her trust. “There’s no magic to this,” he acknowledged. “You try to be as alert and informed and vigilant for anything you say that produces a negative or concerning reaction in the patient.”

This interactive approach to BPD treatment has been gaining traction in a profession that often looks to medications to alleviate specific symptoms. It’s so effective that it sometimes even surprises the patient, Dr. Oldham noted. “When you approach them like this, they can begin to settle down,” which was the case with the female patient he once treated.

About 1.4% of the U.S. population has BPD, according to the National Institute of Mental Health. Conceptualized by the late John G. Gunderson, MD, BPD initially was seen as floating on the borderline between psychosis and neurosis. Clinicians now understand that this isn’t the case. The patients need, as Dr. Gunderson once pointed out, constant vigilance because of attachment issues and childhood trauma.

A stable therapeutic alliance between patient and physician, sometimes in combination with evidence-based therapies, is a formula for success, some experts say.
 

A misunderstood condition

Although there is some degree of heritable risk, BPD patients are often the product of an invalidating environment in childhood. “As kids, we’re guided and nurtured by caring adults to provide models of reasonable, trustworthy behavior. If those role models are missing or just so inconsistent and unpredictable, the patient doesn’t end up with a sturdy self-image. Instead, they’re adrift, trying to figure out who will be helpful and be a meaningful, trustworthy companion and adviser,” Dr. Oldham said.

Emotional or affective instability and impulsivity, sometimes impulsive aggression, often characterize their condition. “Brain-imaging studies have revealed that certain nerve pathways that are necessary to regulate emotions are impoverished in patients with BPD,” Dr. Oldham said.

An analogy is a car going too fast, with a runaway engine that’s running too hot – and the brakes don’t work, he added.

“People think these patients are trying to create big drama, that they’re putting on a big show. That’s not accurate,” he continued. These patients don’t have the ability to stop the trigger that leads to their emotional storms. They also don’t have the ability to regulate themselves. “We may say, it’s a beautiful day outside, but I still have to go to work. Someone with BPD may say: It’s a beautiful day; I’m going to the beach,” Dr. Oldham explained.

A person with BPD might sound coherent when arguing with someone else. But their words are driven by the storm they can’t turn off.

This can lead to their own efforts to turn off the intensity. They might become self-injurious or push other people away. It’s one of the ironies of this condition because BPD patients desperately want to trust others but are scared to do so. “They look for any little signal – that someone else will hurt, disappoint, or leave them. Eventually their relationships unravel,” Dr. Oldham saod.

For some, suicide is sometimes a final solution.

Those traits make it difficult for a therapist to connect with a patient. “This is a very difficult group of people to treat and to establish treatment,” said Michael A. Cummings, MD, of the department of psychiatry at University of California, Riverside, and a psychopharmacology consultant with the California Department of State Hospitals’ Psychopharmacology Resource Network.

BPD patients tend to idealize people who are attempting to help them. When they become frustrated or disappointed in some way, “they then devalue the caregiver or the treatment and not infrequently, fall out of treatment,” Dr. Cummings said. It can be a very taxing experience, particularly for younger, less experienced therapists.
 

Medication only goes so far

Psychiatrists tend to look at BPD patients as receptor sites for molecules, assessing symptoms they can prescribe for, Eric M. Plakun, MD, DLFAPA, FACPsych, medical director/CEO of the Austen Riggs Center in Stockbridge, Mass., said in an interview.

Yet, BPD is not a molecular problem, principally. It’s an interpersonal disorder. When BPD is a co-occurring disorder, as is often the case, the depressive, anxiety, or other disorder can mask the BPD, he added, citing his 2018 paper on tensions in psychiatry between the biomedical and biopsychosocial models (Psychiatr Clin North Am. 2018 Jun;41[2]:237-48).

In one longitudinal study (J Pers Disord. 2005 Oct;19[5]:487-504), the presence of BPD strongly predicted the persistence of depression. BPD comorbid with depression is often a recipe for treatment-resistant depression, which results in higher costs, more utilization of resources, and higher suicide rates. Too often, psychiatrists diagnose the depression but miss the BPD. They keep trying molecular approaches with prescription drugs – even though it’s really the interpersonal issues of BPD that need to be addressed, said Dr. Plakun, who is a member of the Group for the Advancement of Psychiatry’s Psychotherapy Committee, and founder and past leader of the American Psychiatric Association’s Psychotherapy Caucus.

Medication can be helpful as a short-term adjunctive therapy. Long term, it’s not a sustainable approach, said Dr. Oldham. “If a patient is in a particularly stressful period, in the middle of a stormy breakup or having a depressive episode or talking about suicide, a time-limited course of an antidepressant may be helpful,” he said. They could also benefit from an anxiety-related drug or medication to help them sleep.

What you don’t want is for the patient to start relying on medications to help them feel better. The problem is, many are suffering so much that they’ll go to their primary care doctor and say, “I’m suffering from anxiety,” and get an antianxiety drug. Or they’re depressed or in pain and end up with a cocktail of medications. “And that’s just going to make matters worse,” Dr. Oldham said.
 

Psychotherapy as a first-line approach

APA practice guidelines and others worldwide have all come to the same conclusion about BPD. The primary or core treatment for this condition is psychotherapy, said Dr. Oldham, who chaired an APA committee that developed an evidence-based practice guideline for patients with BPD.

Psychotherapy keeps the patient from firing you, he asserted. “Because of the lack of trust, they push away. They’re very scared, and this fear also applies to therapist. The goal is to help the patient learn to trust you. To do that, you need to develop a strong therapeutic alliance.”

In crafting the APA’s practice guideline, Dr. Oldham and his colleagues studied a variety of approaches, including mentalization-based therapy (MBT) and dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), which was developed by Marsha Linehan, PhD. Since then, other approaches have demonstrated efficacy in randomized clinical trials, including schema-based therapy (SBT), cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), and transference-focused psychotherapy (TFP).

Those treatments might complement the broader goal of establishing a strong alliance with the patient, Dr. Oldham said. Manualized approaches can help prepackage a program that allows clinicians and patients to look at their problems in an objective, nonpejorative way, Lois W. Choi-Kain, MD, MEd, director of the Gunderson Personality Disorders Institute at McLean Hospital in Belmont, Mass., said in an interview. DBT, for example, focuses on emotion dysregulation. MBT addresses how the patient sees themselves through others and their interactions with others. “It destigmatizes a problem as a clinical entity rather than an interpersonal problem between the patient and the clinician,” Dr. Choi-Kain said.

The choice of approach depends on several factors: the patient’s needs and preferences, and the therapist’s skills and experience, said Dr. Oldham. Some patients don’t do well with DBT because it involves a lot of homework and didactic work. Others do better with TFP because they want to understand what drives their behavior.

Dr. Cummings recalled how one of his patients used TFP to look inward and heal.

He first met the patient when she was in her early 30s. “She had made some progress, but I remember she was still struggling mightily with relationship issues and with identifying her role in relationships,” he said. The patient was becoming increasingly aware that she was going to end up alone and didn’t want that as an outcome.

Adapting to a TFP model, “she worked very hard trying to understand herself as she related to other people, understanding her own emotional volatility, and some of her proneness to behavioral problems,” Dr. Cummings said. The patient also had to learn how to negotiate her relationships to the point where she didn’t end up destroying them and alienating people.
 

Customizing the treatment

Physicians can choose from one of these manualized forms of treatment to see what’s appropriate and what works for the patient. “You can individualize the treatment, borrowing from these approaches and shaping it based on what your patient needs,” Dr. Oldham recommended.

Recently, the field of psychiatry has seen the benefits of combining manualized, evidence-based approaches with general psychiatric management (GPM), a method conceived by Dr. Gunderson. GPM “reflects a sensitive understanding of mental illness, offering ‘non attacking’ or collaborative work with the patient and a sensitive recognition of appropriate interventions or corrections to help the patient stay in treatment,” said Dr. Oldham.

It aims to conceptualize BPD in a clinically objective way, medicalizing the disorder so it’s something that the patient has, rather than something he or she is, explained Dr. Choi-Kain, who worked with Dr. Gunderson to train clinicians on using this approach. Using a framework that’s compatible with good medical practices, the clinician tries to define the problem together with the patient, “really assessing whether or not the treatment works, setting goals, managing safety, and trying to promote functioning, something we need to pay more attention to with BPD,” she said.

For these patients, the goal is to have positive, corrective experiences in the real world, reinforcing their hopes and what they’re capable of, and an interface with the world that makes them feel like contributors, she said.

Cycle of rupture and repair

Many people with BPD struggle with the desire to find and feel love, but also deal with their rage and hate. Hence, therapists must prepare themselves for the experience of sometimes being hated, said Dr. Plakun. The patient needs to feel they’re in a safe enough space to express those feelings, activating a cycle of “rupture and repair,” he continued.

The key in working with these patients is to avoid any language that will make them feel attacked or criticized, said Dr. Oldham.

A patient may get furious and say “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t say that.” When in truth, the psychiatrist is flat accurate about what the patient said. Instead of arguing with the patient, a physician can back up and say: “Help me understand what you’re feeling right now. What did I say that made you feel that you couldn’t trust me? Help me understand you. I may have made a mistake,” he advised.

Trust is a key ingredient in an alliance-based intervention for suicidal patients with BPD that Dr. Plakun has frequently written about. A bond he had with a deeply suicidal patient helped her overcome her grief and come to terms with an abusive childhood.

“She had a horrible history of abuse and had BPD and bipolar disorder. Even controlled with medications her life was still awful. She contemplated suicide relentlessly.” Working through her history of sexual abuse, the patient discovered that much of what she and clinicians thought of as a depressive illness was in fact intense grief about the irreparable damage that had taken place during childhood.

Through their work she was able to mourn, and her depression and BPD improved.

Developing a trusting relationship with the patient isn’t a starting point; it’s the goal, he emphasized.

“You don’t prescribe trust to someone. It’s earned.” Through the shared journey of therapy, as the patient suffers from inevitable injuries and ruptures and as the therapist reveals his or her imperfections, opportunities arise to nonjudgmentally examine and repair ruptures. This lead to gains in trust, he said.
 

It’s not just about genes

Many in the psychiatric and psychological communities tend to develop a very nihilistic view of BPD patients, observed Dr. Cummings. “They’ll say: ‘Oh, well, it’s hopeless. There’s nothing that can be done.’ That isn’t true,” he said.

Epidemiologic studies of these individuals have shown that many of these patients no longer meet the diagnostic criteria for BPD by the time they reach middle age. This means they get better over time, noted Dr. Cummings.

Dr. Plakun’s hope is that the field will evolve in a direction that recognizes the importance of psychosocial treatments like psychotherapy, in addition to biomedical treatments. The drive to medicate still exists, which can contribute to underdiagnosis and undertreatment of BPD, he said. “Although there are manualized, evidence-based treatments, few clinicians learn even one of these for BPD, not to mention those for other disorders.”

In 1996, Francis S. Collins, MD, PhD, the current director of the National Institutes of Health, predicted that the decoding of the human genome would transform treatment of medical and mental disorders [and] “that we would discover the ways in which genes equal disease,” said Dr. Plakun. What the science has since shown, is genes by environmental interaction lead to disease and health.

Nature and nurture both matter. “And I don’t think we’re paying enough attention to the nurture side,” Dr. Plakun said.

The solution is a return to a biopsychosocial model, recognizing that psychotherapy is an essential part of treatment of BPD and other conditions, and an essential clinician skill, he said.

Dr. Oldham is coeditor of the “Textbook of Personality Disorders”, 3rd edition (Washington: American Psychiatric Association Publishing, 2021).Dr. Choi-Kain is coeditor with Dr. Gunderson of “Applications of Good Psychiatric Management for Borderline Personality Disorder: A Practical Guide” (Washington: American Psychiatric Association Publishing, 2019).

Dr. Cummings and Dr. Plakun had no disclosures.

Difficulties associated with treating borderline personality disorder (BPD) make for an uneasy alliance between patient and clinician. Deep-seated anxiety and trust issues often lead to patients skipping visits or raging at those who treat them, leaving clinicians frustrated and ready to give up or relying on a pill to make the patient better.

John M. Oldham, MD, MS, recalls one patient he almost lost, a woman who was struggling with aggressive behavior. Initially cooperative and punctual, the patient gradually became distrustful, grilling Dr. Oldham on his training and credentials. “As the questions continued, she slipped from being very cooperative to being enraged and attacking me,” said Dr. Oldham, Distinguished Emeritus Professor in the Menninger department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Baylor College in Houston.

Dr. Oldham eventually drew her back in by earning her trust. “There’s no magic to this,” he acknowledged. “You try to be as alert and informed and vigilant for anything you say that produces a negative or concerning reaction in the patient.”

This interactive approach to BPD treatment has been gaining traction in a profession that often looks to medications to alleviate specific symptoms. It’s so effective that it sometimes even surprises the patient, Dr. Oldham noted. “When you approach them like this, they can begin to settle down,” which was the case with the female patient he once treated.

About 1.4% of the U.S. population has BPD, according to the National Institute of Mental Health. Conceptualized by the late John G. Gunderson, MD, BPD initially was seen as floating on the borderline between psychosis and neurosis. Clinicians now understand that this isn’t the case. The patients need, as Dr. Gunderson once pointed out, constant vigilance because of attachment issues and childhood trauma.

A stable therapeutic alliance between patient and physician, sometimes in combination with evidence-based therapies, is a formula for success, some experts say.
 

A misunderstood condition

Although there is some degree of heritable risk, BPD patients are often the product of an invalidating environment in childhood. “As kids, we’re guided and nurtured by caring adults to provide models of reasonable, trustworthy behavior. If those role models are missing or just so inconsistent and unpredictable, the patient doesn’t end up with a sturdy self-image. Instead, they’re adrift, trying to figure out who will be helpful and be a meaningful, trustworthy companion and adviser,” Dr. Oldham said.

Emotional or affective instability and impulsivity, sometimes impulsive aggression, often characterize their condition. “Brain-imaging studies have revealed that certain nerve pathways that are necessary to regulate emotions are impoverished in patients with BPD,” Dr. Oldham said.

An analogy is a car going too fast, with a runaway engine that’s running too hot – and the brakes don’t work, he added.

“People think these patients are trying to create big drama, that they’re putting on a big show. That’s not accurate,” he continued. These patients don’t have the ability to stop the trigger that leads to their emotional storms. They also don’t have the ability to regulate themselves. “We may say, it’s a beautiful day outside, but I still have to go to work. Someone with BPD may say: It’s a beautiful day; I’m going to the beach,” Dr. Oldham explained.

A person with BPD might sound coherent when arguing with someone else. But their words are driven by the storm they can’t turn off.

This can lead to their own efforts to turn off the intensity. They might become self-injurious or push other people away. It’s one of the ironies of this condition because BPD patients desperately want to trust others but are scared to do so. “They look for any little signal – that someone else will hurt, disappoint, or leave them. Eventually their relationships unravel,” Dr. Oldham saod.

For some, suicide is sometimes a final solution.

Those traits make it difficult for a therapist to connect with a patient. “This is a very difficult group of people to treat and to establish treatment,” said Michael A. Cummings, MD, of the department of psychiatry at University of California, Riverside, and a psychopharmacology consultant with the California Department of State Hospitals’ Psychopharmacology Resource Network.

BPD patients tend to idealize people who are attempting to help them. When they become frustrated or disappointed in some way, “they then devalue the caregiver or the treatment and not infrequently, fall out of treatment,” Dr. Cummings said. It can be a very taxing experience, particularly for younger, less experienced therapists.
 

Medication only goes so far

Psychiatrists tend to look at BPD patients as receptor sites for molecules, assessing symptoms they can prescribe for, Eric M. Plakun, MD, DLFAPA, FACPsych, medical director/CEO of the Austen Riggs Center in Stockbridge, Mass., said in an interview.

Yet, BPD is not a molecular problem, principally. It’s an interpersonal disorder. When BPD is a co-occurring disorder, as is often the case, the depressive, anxiety, or other disorder can mask the BPD, he added, citing his 2018 paper on tensions in psychiatry between the biomedical and biopsychosocial models (Psychiatr Clin North Am. 2018 Jun;41[2]:237-48).

In one longitudinal study (J Pers Disord. 2005 Oct;19[5]:487-504), the presence of BPD strongly predicted the persistence of depression. BPD comorbid with depression is often a recipe for treatment-resistant depression, which results in higher costs, more utilization of resources, and higher suicide rates. Too often, psychiatrists diagnose the depression but miss the BPD. They keep trying molecular approaches with prescription drugs – even though it’s really the interpersonal issues of BPD that need to be addressed, said Dr. Plakun, who is a member of the Group for the Advancement of Psychiatry’s Psychotherapy Committee, and founder and past leader of the American Psychiatric Association’s Psychotherapy Caucus.

Medication can be helpful as a short-term adjunctive therapy. Long term, it’s not a sustainable approach, said Dr. Oldham. “If a patient is in a particularly stressful period, in the middle of a stormy breakup or having a depressive episode or talking about suicide, a time-limited course of an antidepressant may be helpful,” he said. They could also benefit from an anxiety-related drug or medication to help them sleep.

What you don’t want is for the patient to start relying on medications to help them feel better. The problem is, many are suffering so much that they’ll go to their primary care doctor and say, “I’m suffering from anxiety,” and get an antianxiety drug. Or they’re depressed or in pain and end up with a cocktail of medications. “And that’s just going to make matters worse,” Dr. Oldham said.
 

Psychotherapy as a first-line approach

APA practice guidelines and others worldwide have all come to the same conclusion about BPD. The primary or core treatment for this condition is psychotherapy, said Dr. Oldham, who chaired an APA committee that developed an evidence-based practice guideline for patients with BPD.

Psychotherapy keeps the patient from firing you, he asserted. “Because of the lack of trust, they push away. They’re very scared, and this fear also applies to therapist. The goal is to help the patient learn to trust you. To do that, you need to develop a strong therapeutic alliance.”

In crafting the APA’s practice guideline, Dr. Oldham and his colleagues studied a variety of approaches, including mentalization-based therapy (MBT) and dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), which was developed by Marsha Linehan, PhD. Since then, other approaches have demonstrated efficacy in randomized clinical trials, including schema-based therapy (SBT), cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT), and transference-focused psychotherapy (TFP).

Those treatments might complement the broader goal of establishing a strong alliance with the patient, Dr. Oldham said. Manualized approaches can help prepackage a program that allows clinicians and patients to look at their problems in an objective, nonpejorative way, Lois W. Choi-Kain, MD, MEd, director of the Gunderson Personality Disorders Institute at McLean Hospital in Belmont, Mass., said in an interview. DBT, for example, focuses on emotion dysregulation. MBT addresses how the patient sees themselves through others and their interactions with others. “It destigmatizes a problem as a clinical entity rather than an interpersonal problem between the patient and the clinician,” Dr. Choi-Kain said.

The choice of approach depends on several factors: the patient’s needs and preferences, and the therapist’s skills and experience, said Dr. Oldham. Some patients don’t do well with DBT because it involves a lot of homework and didactic work. Others do better with TFP because they want to understand what drives their behavior.

Dr. Cummings recalled how one of his patients used TFP to look inward and heal.

He first met the patient when she was in her early 30s. “She had made some progress, but I remember she was still struggling mightily with relationship issues and with identifying her role in relationships,” he said. The patient was becoming increasingly aware that she was going to end up alone and didn’t want that as an outcome.

Adapting to a TFP model, “she worked very hard trying to understand herself as she related to other people, understanding her own emotional volatility, and some of her proneness to behavioral problems,” Dr. Cummings said. The patient also had to learn how to negotiate her relationships to the point where she didn’t end up destroying them and alienating people.
 

Customizing the treatment

Physicians can choose from one of these manualized forms of treatment to see what’s appropriate and what works for the patient. “You can individualize the treatment, borrowing from these approaches and shaping it based on what your patient needs,” Dr. Oldham recommended.

Recently, the field of psychiatry has seen the benefits of combining manualized, evidence-based approaches with general psychiatric management (GPM), a method conceived by Dr. Gunderson. GPM “reflects a sensitive understanding of mental illness, offering ‘non attacking’ or collaborative work with the patient and a sensitive recognition of appropriate interventions or corrections to help the patient stay in treatment,” said Dr. Oldham.

It aims to conceptualize BPD in a clinically objective way, medicalizing the disorder so it’s something that the patient has, rather than something he or she is, explained Dr. Choi-Kain, who worked with Dr. Gunderson to train clinicians on using this approach. Using a framework that’s compatible with good medical practices, the clinician tries to define the problem together with the patient, “really assessing whether or not the treatment works, setting goals, managing safety, and trying to promote functioning, something we need to pay more attention to with BPD,” she said.

For these patients, the goal is to have positive, corrective experiences in the real world, reinforcing their hopes and what they’re capable of, and an interface with the world that makes them feel like contributors, she said.

Cycle of rupture and repair

Many people with BPD struggle with the desire to find and feel love, but also deal with their rage and hate. Hence, therapists must prepare themselves for the experience of sometimes being hated, said Dr. Plakun. The patient needs to feel they’re in a safe enough space to express those feelings, activating a cycle of “rupture and repair,” he continued.

The key in working with these patients is to avoid any language that will make them feel attacked or criticized, said Dr. Oldham.

A patient may get furious and say “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t say that.” When in truth, the psychiatrist is flat accurate about what the patient said. Instead of arguing with the patient, a physician can back up and say: “Help me understand what you’re feeling right now. What did I say that made you feel that you couldn’t trust me? Help me understand you. I may have made a mistake,” he advised.

Trust is a key ingredient in an alliance-based intervention for suicidal patients with BPD that Dr. Plakun has frequently written about. A bond he had with a deeply suicidal patient helped her overcome her grief and come to terms with an abusive childhood.

“She had a horrible history of abuse and had BPD and bipolar disorder. Even controlled with medications her life was still awful. She contemplated suicide relentlessly.” Working through her history of sexual abuse, the patient discovered that much of what she and clinicians thought of as a depressive illness was in fact intense grief about the irreparable damage that had taken place during childhood.

Through their work she was able to mourn, and her depression and BPD improved.

Developing a trusting relationship with the patient isn’t a starting point; it’s the goal, he emphasized.

“You don’t prescribe trust to someone. It’s earned.” Through the shared journey of therapy, as the patient suffers from inevitable injuries and ruptures and as the therapist reveals his or her imperfections, opportunities arise to nonjudgmentally examine and repair ruptures. This lead to gains in trust, he said.
 

It’s not just about genes

Many in the psychiatric and psychological communities tend to develop a very nihilistic view of BPD patients, observed Dr. Cummings. “They’ll say: ‘Oh, well, it’s hopeless. There’s nothing that can be done.’ That isn’t true,” he said.

Epidemiologic studies of these individuals have shown that many of these patients no longer meet the diagnostic criteria for BPD by the time they reach middle age. This means they get better over time, noted Dr. Cummings.

Dr. Plakun’s hope is that the field will evolve in a direction that recognizes the importance of psychosocial treatments like psychotherapy, in addition to biomedical treatments. The drive to medicate still exists, which can contribute to underdiagnosis and undertreatment of BPD, he said. “Although there are manualized, evidence-based treatments, few clinicians learn even one of these for BPD, not to mention those for other disorders.”

In 1996, Francis S. Collins, MD, PhD, the current director of the National Institutes of Health, predicted that the decoding of the human genome would transform treatment of medical and mental disorders [and] “that we would discover the ways in which genes equal disease,” said Dr. Plakun. What the science has since shown, is genes by environmental interaction lead to disease and health.

Nature and nurture both matter. “And I don’t think we’re paying enough attention to the nurture side,” Dr. Plakun said.

The solution is a return to a biopsychosocial model, recognizing that psychotherapy is an essential part of treatment of BPD and other conditions, and an essential clinician skill, he said.

Dr. Oldham is coeditor of the “Textbook of Personality Disorders”, 3rd edition (Washington: American Psychiatric Association Publishing, 2021).Dr. Choi-Kain is coeditor with Dr. Gunderson of “Applications of Good Psychiatric Management for Borderline Personality Disorder: A Practical Guide” (Washington: American Psychiatric Association Publishing, 2019).

Dr. Cummings and Dr. Plakun had no disclosures.

The scope and magnitude of the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon were unprecedented in U.S. history. It was arguably the most serious trauma to beset Americans on U.S. soil. The 20th anniversary of 9/11 will take place during another crisis, not only in American history but also in world history – the COVID-19 pandemic.

Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images

“As different as these two events are, there are obvious points of comparison,” Jonathan DePierro, PhD, assistant professor of psychiatry, Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York, said in an interview. “Both were unprecedented life-threatening situations, presenting threats to individuals’ lives and profoundly traumatizing not only society as a whole but also first responders.”

Dr. DePierro, who is also the clinical director of the Center for Stress, Resilience, and Personal Growth at Mount Sinai, thinks there are many lessons to be learned from the mental health response to 9/11 that can inform our understanding of and response to the mental health needs of today’s first responders in the COVID-19 crisis, particularly health care professionals.

“Every one of our hospitals became a ‘ground zero’ early during the pandemic, and we see the numbers rising again and hospitals again overwhelmed, so our institutions need to design interventions to meet the needs of our health care professionals,” he said.
 

Placing trauma within a new framework

According to Priscilla Dass-Brailsford, EdD, MPH, professor of psychology, department of psychiatry, Georgetown University, Washington, Sept. 11, 2001, “placed trauma within a new framework.”

“Prior to 9/11, crisis protocols and how to manage stress in the aftermath of violent events were uncommon,” Dr. Dass-Brailsford, a clinical psychologist with expertise in trauma who also chairs a clinical psychology program for the Chicago School of Professional Psychology, said in an interview.

As a first responder, she was involved in early interventions for survivors of 9/11. On Sept. 11, 2001, she had just resigned her position as coordinator of the community crisis response team – the first of its kind in the United States – through the Victims of Violence Program in Cambridge, in Cambridge, Mass.

The program responded to communities in which there were high rates of drive-by shootings and similar acts of violence. Because of her crisis experience, Dr. Dass-Brailsford was asked to conduct debriefings in Boston in the area where the 9/11 terrorists had stayed prior to boarding the planes that were used in the terrorist attacks. She subsequently went to New York City to conduct similar psychological debriefings with affected communities.

“What we’ve learned is that we had no crisis protocol on how to manage the stress in the aftermath of such a violent event, no standard operating procedures. There were very few people trained in crisis and trauma response at that time. Partially spurred by 9/11, trauma training programs became more prolific,” she said. Dr. Dass-Brailsford developed a trauma certification program at Lesley University in Cambridge, Mass., where she began to teach after 9/11. “I saw the importance of having clinicians trained to respond in a crisis, because responding to a crisis is very different from conducting regular mental health interventions.”
 

Short- and long-term interventions

Dr. DePierro said that Mount Sinai has a 20-year history of responding to the physical and mental health needs of 9/11 responders.

“We saw a number of first responders experiencing clinical depression, anxiety, a lot of worry, symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, and an increase in alcohol and/or substance use,” he recounted. In some, these responses were immediate; in others, the onset of symptoms was more gradual. Some responders had acute reactions that lasted for several months to a year, whereas for others, the reactions were prolonged, and they remained “chronically distressed long after the immediate exposure to the event,” he said.

Recent studies have shown that, during the COVID-19 pandemic, health care professionals and many essential workers have experienced similar symptoms, Dr. DePierro noted.

Mental health care professionals who provided interventions for workers involved in recovery and cleanup at the World Trade Center have highlighted the need for long-term monitoring of people on the front lines during the COVID-19 pandemic – especially health care workers, other essential personnel (for example, delivery, postal, and grocery store workers) and surviving family members. “Health monitoring and treatment efforts for 9/11 survivors and responders were put into place soon after the attacks and continue to this day,” using funding provided through the James Zadroga Act, Dr. DePierro said.

“Without similarly unified health registry and treatment services, many individuals – especially from underserved groups – will likely experience chronic mental health consequences and will be unable to access high-quality health care services,” he stated.
 

‘Psychological first aid’

“Although many people who go through a crisis – whether as a result of terrorism, such as 9/11, or a medical crisis, such as the current pandemic, or a natural disaster, such as Hurricane Katrina – experience PTSD, it’s important to note that not everyone who goes through a crisis and is traumatized will go on to develop PTSD,” Dr. Dass-Brailsford emphasized.

“To me, 9/11 placed psychological first aid on the map. Even if you are not a clinician, you can be trained to provide psychological first aid by becoming familiar with people’s reactions to trauma and how you can support them through it,” she continued.

For example, if a coworker is agitated or “seems to be having a meltdown, you can be there by offering support and getting them the appropriate help.” Research has suggested that having social support before and after a traumatic event can be helpful in determining vulnerability to the development of PTSD and in modulating the impact of the trauma.

Psychological first aid is helpful as an interim measure. “If you see a coworker holding their head in their hands all day and staring at the screen, identifying whether the person might be having a dissociative episode is critical. Providing some support is important, but if more intensive professional support is needed, determining that and making a referral becomes key,” Dr. Dass-Brailsford stated.

Dr. DePierro added: “One of the most important messages that I want health care workers to know from my years of working with 9/11 survivors is that feeling distressed after a traumatic event is very common, but with effective care, one doesn’t necessarily need to be in treatment for years.”

Danielle Ofri, MD, PhD, clinical professor, department of medicine, New York University, agreed. “It is important to continue keeping tabs on each other and remaining sensitive to the collateral struggles of our colleagues. Some have children who are struggling in school, others have parents who have lost a job. Continuing to check in on others and offer support is critical going forward,” she said in an interview.
 

Cohesiveness and volunteerism

One of the most powerful antidotes to long-term traumatization is a sense of community cohesiveness. This was the case following 9/11, and it is the case during the COVID-19 pandemic, according to Dr. Ofri, an internist at Bellevue Hospital in New York.

“There was an enormous mobilization. Bellevue is a city hospital with a level 1 trauma center, and we expected to be swamped, so the whole hospital shifted into gear,” said Dr. Ofri. “What would have been terrifying seemed tolerable because we felt that we were in it together. We discharged the inpatients to make beds available. Within hours, we had converted clinics into emergency departments and ICUs. We worked seamlessly, and the crisis brought us together ... but then, of course, no patients showed up.”

She described her relationship with her colleagues as “feeling almost like a family, especially during the pandemic, when so many others were in lockdown and feeling isolated and useless.”

She and her colleagues saw each other daily. Although the content of their tasks and responsibilities changed and people were redeployed to other areas, “our workday didn’t really change. It would have been overwhelming if we hadn’t had our daily meetings to regroup and assess where we were. Each day, everything we had learned or implemented the day before – treatment protocols, testing protocols, our understanding of how the virus was communicated – would change and need to be reevaluated. Those morning meetings were critical to staying centered. It felt as though we were building a plane and flying it at the same time, which felt both scary and heady. Luckily, it took place within the fraternity of a committed and caring group.”

Dr. Ofri recounted that, after 9/11, as well as during the pandemic, “professionals kept jumping in from the sidelines to volunteer. Within hours of the collapse of the towers, the ED had filled with staff. People came out of retirement and out from vacation and out of the woodwork. It was very heartening.”

Even more inspiring, “all the departmental barriers seemed to break down. People were willing to step out of their ordinary roles and check their egos at the door. Seasoned physicians were willing to function as medical interns.”

This generosity of time and spirit “helped keep us going,” she said.

Dr. DePierro agreed. “One of the things I’ve seen on medical floors is that COVID actually brought some units together, increasing their cohesion and mutual support and increasing the bonds between people.” These intensified bonds “increased the resilience of everyone involved.”
 

Commitment to the community

Dr. Ofri recalls families gathering at the hospital after 9/11, watching posters of missing people going up all over the hospital as well as on mailboxes and lampposts. Because the center for missing people was located right next door to Bellevue, there were long lines of families coming in to register. The chief medical office was there, and a huge tent was built to accommodate the families. The tent took up the entire block. “We felt a lot of ownership, because families were coming here,” she said.

The street remained closed even as the days, weeks, and years stretched on, and the tent remained. It was used as a reflection area for families. During the pandemic, that area was used for refrigerated trucks that served as temporary morgues.

“Both logistically and emotionally, we had a feeling during the pandemic of, ‘We’ve been here before, we’ll do it again and be there for the community,’ ” Dr. Ofri said.

She noted that the sense of commitment to the community carried her and fellow clinicians through the toughest parts of 9/11 and of the COVID-19 pandemic.

“People look to the medical system as a lodestar. ‘Where’s my family member? What should I do? Should I be tested? Vaccinated?’ We were there to be a steady presence for the community physically, psychologically, emotionally, and medically, which helped center us as well,” Dr. Ofri said. “If we didn’t have that, we might have all given in to existential panic.”

She added: “Although we had to work twice as hard, often amid great personal risk, we had the good fortune of having a sense of purpose, something to contribute, plus the community of colleagues we cared about and trusted with our lives.”
 

Crisis and personal growth

Dr. DePierro said that participants who went through 9/11 have been coming to Mount Sinai’s World Trade Center Health Program for care for nearly two decades. “Many are doing quite well, despite the emotional trauma and the dust and toxin exposure, which has given us a window into what makes people resilient.”

Social and community support are key factors in resilience. Another is recognizing opportunities for personal or professional growth during the crisis, according to Dr. DePierro.

During the pandemic, hospital staff were redeployed to departments where they didn’t typically work. They worked with new colleagues and used skills in patient care that they hadn’t needed for years or even decades. “Although this was stressful and distressing, quite a number said they came through with more medical knowledge than before and that they had forged relationships in the trenches that have been lasting and have become important to them,” he reported.

He noted that, during both crises, for first responders and health care practitioners, religious or spiritual faith was a source of resilience. “During the peak of the pandemic, chaplains provided an exorbitant amount of staff support as clinicians turned to the chaplain to help make sense of what they were going through and connect to something greater than themselves.” Similarly, during 9/11, police and fire department chaplains “played a huge role in supporting the first responders,” Dr. DePierro said.

He said that Mount Sinai holds resilience workshops “where we focus on these topics and teach health care workers how to build resilience in their lives, heal day-to-day stressors, and even grow from the experience.”

Dr. Ofri, who is the founder and editor-in-chief of the Bellevue Literary Review, added that the arts played an important role in bolstering resilience and providing a creative outlet for clinicians after 9/11 and again during the pandemic.

The publication is celebrating its twentieth anniversary – its first issue went to press in September 2001. The cover contained an acknowledgment of 9/11.

Dr. Ofri said that a gala event had been planned for Oct. 7, 2001, to celebrate the inaugural issue of the publication. She assumed no one would show up, given that the United States had invaded Afghanistan only hours earlier. To her surprise, over a hundred people attended, “which made me realize the role of the arts during trauma. People were seeking to come together and hear poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.”

Dr. Ofri has been “impressed by the amount of incredible creative writing of all sorts that has been submitted [to the publication] during the pandemic, an unexpected flowering of the arts.”
 

Unique challenges, unique opportunities

All three experts pointed to several noteworthy differences between the experiences of first responders following 9/11 and those of today’s health care professionals during the pandemic.

“What happened on Sept. 11 was one discrete event, and although it obviously led to years of recovering body parts and cleaning up Ground Zero, and on a national level it led to a war, it nevertheless was a single event,” Dr. DePierro observed. By contrast, the COVID-19 pandemic is ongoing, and for health care practitioners, “it’s by no means over. Again and again, they are being thrown back into battle, dealing with fatigue, weariness, and loss of life.”

Moreover, “it is my understanding that immediately following 9/11, there was a general coming together in our country, but it’s obvious that today, there’s a great deal of fractiousness, contention, disagreement, and disunity in our country when it comes to COVID-19,” Dr. DePierro continued.

“This takes a great toll, particularly on health care workers who are dealing with COVID-19 on a daily basis and experience a disconnect between what they see on their floors and ICUs of the hospital, experiencing loss of life they’ve likely never encountered in their careers, and what people are saying when they downplay the seriousness of COVID-19,” he said.

Dr. Ofri agreed. “The fragmentation of our country and the failure of leadership at the highest level to provide even the basics, such as PPE [personal protective equipment] for health care professionals, left us baffled, profoundly hurt, and angry.”

A positive difference between the COVID-19 pandemic and the aftermath of 9/11 is the development of sophisticated technology that allows interventions for traumatized individuals – both health care professionals and the general public – through telehealth, Dr. DePierro pointed out.

“I would say that these resources and technologies are a silver lining and should continue to be expanded on,” he said. “Now, busy health care workers can access all manner of supportive services, including teletherapy, right from home or between shifts.”

Another “silver lining” is that the pandemic has shone a spotlight on an issue that predated the pandemic – the mental health of health care professionals. Opening a discussion about this has reduced stigma and hopefully has paved the way for improved treatments and for providing resources.

Dr. Dass-Brailsford added that “it is important, going forward, for all of us to be trauma informed, to know how trauma and trauma-related stress unfolds in both other people and yourself, and to know what coping skills can be used to avoid crises from developing – a task that extends across all types of disasters.”

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

The scope and magnitude of the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon were unprecedented in U.S. history. It was arguably the most serious trauma to beset Americans on U.S. soil. The 20th anniversary of 9/11 will take place during another crisis, not only in American history but also in world history – the COVID-19 pandemic.

Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images

“As different as these two events are, there are obvious points of comparison,” Jonathan DePierro, PhD, assistant professor of psychiatry, Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York, said in an interview. “Both were unprecedented life-threatening situations, presenting threats to individuals’ lives and profoundly traumatizing not only society as a whole but also first responders.”

Dr. DePierro, who is also the clinical director of the Center for Stress, Resilience, and Personal Growth at Mount Sinai, thinks there are many lessons to be learned from the mental health response to 9/11 that can inform our understanding of and response to the mental health needs of today’s first responders in the COVID-19 crisis, particularly health care professionals.

“Every one of our hospitals became a ‘ground zero’ early during the pandemic, and we see the numbers rising again and hospitals again overwhelmed, so our institutions need to design interventions to meet the needs of our health care professionals,” he said.
 

Placing trauma within a new framework

According to Priscilla Dass-Brailsford, EdD, MPH, professor of psychology, department of psychiatry, Georgetown University, Washington, Sept. 11, 2001, “placed trauma within a new framework.”

“Prior to 9/11, crisis protocols and how to manage stress in the aftermath of violent events were uncommon,” Dr. Dass-Brailsford, a clinical psychologist with expertise in trauma who also chairs a clinical psychology program for the Chicago School of Professional Psychology, said in an interview.

As a first responder, she was involved in early interventions for survivors of 9/11. On Sept. 11, 2001, she had just resigned her position as coordinator of the community crisis response team – the first of its kind in the United States – through the Victims of Violence Program in Cambridge, in Cambridge, Mass.

The program responded to communities in which there were high rates of drive-by shootings and similar acts of violence. Because of her crisis experience, Dr. Dass-Brailsford was asked to conduct debriefings in Boston in the area where the 9/11 terrorists had stayed prior to boarding the planes that were used in the terrorist attacks. She subsequently went to New York City to conduct similar psychological debriefings with affected communities.

“What we’ve learned is that we had no crisis protocol on how to manage the stress in the aftermath of such a violent event, no standard operating procedures. There were very few people trained in crisis and trauma response at that time. Partially spurred by 9/11, trauma training programs became more prolific,” she said. Dr. Dass-Brailsford developed a trauma certification program at Lesley University in Cambridge, Mass., where she began to teach after 9/11. “I saw the importance of having clinicians trained to respond in a crisis, because responding to a crisis is very different from conducting regular mental health interventions.”
 

Short- and long-term interventions

Dr. DePierro said that Mount Sinai has a 20-year history of responding to the physical and mental health needs of 9/11 responders.

“We saw a number of first responders experiencing clinical depression, anxiety, a lot of worry, symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, and an increase in alcohol and/or substance use,” he recounted. In some, these responses were immediate; in others, the onset of symptoms was more gradual. Some responders had acute reactions that lasted for several months to a year, whereas for others, the reactions were prolonged, and they remained “chronically distressed long after the immediate exposure to the event,” he said.

Recent studies have shown that, during the COVID-19 pandemic, health care professionals and many essential workers have experienced similar symptoms, Dr. DePierro noted.

Mental health care professionals who provided interventions for workers involved in recovery and cleanup at the World Trade Center have highlighted the need for long-term monitoring of people on the front lines during the COVID-19 pandemic – especially health care workers, other essential personnel (for example, delivery, postal, and grocery store workers) and surviving family members. “Health monitoring and treatment efforts for 9/11 survivors and responders were put into place soon after the attacks and continue to this day,” using funding provided through the James Zadroga Act, Dr. DePierro said.

“Without similarly unified health registry and treatment services, many individuals – especially from underserved groups – will likely experience chronic mental health consequences and will be unable to access high-quality health care services,” he stated.
 

‘Psychological first aid’

“Although many people who go through a crisis – whether as a result of terrorism, such as 9/11, or a medical crisis, such as the current pandemic, or a natural disaster, such as Hurricane Katrina – experience PTSD, it’s important to note that not everyone who goes through a crisis and is traumatized will go on to develop PTSD,” Dr. Dass-Brailsford emphasized.

“To me, 9/11 placed psychological first aid on the map. Even if you are not a clinician, you can be trained to provide psychological first aid by becoming familiar with people’s reactions to trauma and how you can support them through it,” she continued.

For example, if a coworker is agitated or “seems to be having a meltdown, you can be there by offering support and getting them the appropriate help.” Research has suggested that having social support before and after a traumatic event can be helpful in determining vulnerability to the development of PTSD and in modulating the impact of the trauma.

Psychological first aid is helpful as an interim measure. “If you see a coworker holding their head in their hands all day and staring at the screen, identifying whether the person might be having a dissociative episode is critical. Providing some support is important, but if more intensive professional support is needed, determining that and making a referral becomes key,” Dr. Dass-Brailsford stated.

Dr. DePierro added: “One of the most important messages that I want health care workers to know from my years of working with 9/11 survivors is that feeling distressed after a traumatic event is very common, but with effective care, one doesn’t necessarily need to be in treatment for years.”

Danielle Ofri, MD, PhD, clinical professor, department of medicine, New York University, agreed. “It is important to continue keeping tabs on each other and remaining sensitive to the collateral struggles of our colleagues. Some have children who are struggling in school, others have parents who have lost a job. Continuing to check in on others and offer support is critical going forward,” she said in an interview.
 

Cohesiveness and volunteerism

One of the most powerful antidotes to long-term traumatization is a sense of community cohesiveness. This was the case following 9/11, and it is the case during the COVID-19 pandemic, according to Dr. Ofri, an internist at Bellevue Hospital in New York.

“There was an enormous mobilization. Bellevue is a city hospital with a level 1 trauma center, and we expected to be swamped, so the whole hospital shifted into gear,” said Dr. Ofri. “What would have been terrifying seemed tolerable because we felt that we were in it together. We discharged the inpatients to make beds available. Within hours, we had converted clinics into emergency departments and ICUs. We worked seamlessly, and the crisis brought us together ... but then, of course, no patients showed up.”

She described her relationship with her colleagues as “feeling almost like a family, especially during the pandemic, when so many others were in lockdown and feeling isolated and useless.”

She and her colleagues saw each other daily. Although the content of their tasks and responsibilities changed and people were redeployed to other areas, “our workday didn’t really change. It would have been overwhelming if we hadn’t had our daily meetings to regroup and assess where we were. Each day, everything we had learned or implemented the day before – treatment protocols, testing protocols, our understanding of how the virus was communicated – would change and need to be reevaluated. Those morning meetings were critical to staying centered. It felt as though we were building a plane and flying it at the same time, which felt both scary and heady. Luckily, it took place within the fraternity of a committed and caring group.”

Dr. Ofri recounted that, after 9/11, as well as during the pandemic, “professionals kept jumping in from the sidelines to volunteer. Within hours of the collapse of the towers, the ED had filled with staff. People came out of retirement and out from vacation and out of the woodwork. It was very heartening.”

Even more inspiring, “all the departmental barriers seemed to break down. People were willing to step out of their ordinary roles and check their egos at the door. Seasoned physicians were willing to function as medical interns.”

This generosity of time and spirit “helped keep us going,” she said.

Dr. DePierro agreed. “One of the things I’ve seen on medical floors is that COVID actually brought some units together, increasing their cohesion and mutual support and increasing the bonds between people.” These intensified bonds “increased the resilience of everyone involved.”
 

Commitment to the community

Dr. Ofri recalls families gathering at the hospital after 9/11, watching posters of missing people going up all over the hospital as well as on mailboxes and lampposts. Because the center for missing people was located right next door to Bellevue, there were long lines of families coming in to register. The chief medical office was there, and a huge tent was built to accommodate the families. The tent took up the entire block. “We felt a lot of ownership, because families were coming here,” she said.

The street remained closed even as the days, weeks, and years stretched on, and the tent remained. It was used as a reflection area for families. During the pandemic, that area was used for refrigerated trucks that served as temporary morgues.

“Both logistically and emotionally, we had a feeling during the pandemic of, ‘We’ve been here before, we’ll do it again and be there for the community,’ ” Dr. Ofri said.

She noted that the sense of commitment to the community carried her and fellow clinicians through the toughest parts of 9/11 and of the COVID-19 pandemic.

“People look to the medical system as a lodestar. ‘Where’s my family member? What should I do? Should I be tested? Vaccinated?’ We were there to be a steady presence for the community physically, psychologically, emotionally, and medically, which helped center us as well,” Dr. Ofri said. “If we didn’t have that, we might have all given in to existential panic.”

She added: “Although we had to work twice as hard, often amid great personal risk, we had the good fortune of having a sense of purpose, something to contribute, plus the community of colleagues we cared about and trusted with our lives.”
 

Crisis and personal growth

Dr. DePierro said that participants who went through 9/11 have been coming to Mount Sinai’s World Trade Center Health Program for care for nearly two decades. “Many are doing quite well, despite the emotional trauma and the dust and toxin exposure, which has given us a window into what makes people resilient.”

Social and community support are key factors in resilience. Another is recognizing opportunities for personal or professional growth during the crisis, according to Dr. DePierro.

During the pandemic, hospital staff were redeployed to departments where they didn’t typically work. They worked with new colleagues and used skills in patient care that they hadn’t needed for years or even decades. “Although this was stressful and distressing, quite a number said they came through with more medical knowledge than before and that they had forged relationships in the trenches that have been lasting and have become important to them,” he reported.

He noted that, during both crises, for first responders and health care practitioners, religious or spiritual faith was a source of resilience. “During the peak of the pandemic, chaplains provided an exorbitant amount of staff support as clinicians turned to the chaplain to help make sense of what they were going through and connect to something greater than themselves.” Similarly, during 9/11, police and fire department chaplains “played a huge role in supporting the first responders,” Dr. DePierro said.

He said that Mount Sinai holds resilience workshops “where we focus on these topics and teach health care workers how to build resilience in their lives, heal day-to-day stressors, and even grow from the experience.”

Dr. Ofri, who is the founder and editor-in-chief of the Bellevue Literary Review, added that the arts played an important role in bolstering resilience and providing a creative outlet for clinicians after 9/11 and again during the pandemic.

The publication is celebrating its twentieth anniversary – its first issue went to press in September 2001. The cover contained an acknowledgment of 9/11.

Dr. Ofri said that a gala event had been planned for Oct. 7, 2001, to celebrate the inaugural issue of the publication. She assumed no one would show up, given that the United States had invaded Afghanistan only hours earlier. To her surprise, over a hundred people attended, “which made me realize the role of the arts during trauma. People were seeking to come together and hear poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.”

Dr. Ofri has been “impressed by the amount of incredible creative writing of all sorts that has been submitted [to the publication] during the pandemic, an unexpected flowering of the arts.”
 

Unique challenges, unique opportunities

All three experts pointed to several noteworthy differences between the experiences of first responders following 9/11 and those of today’s health care professionals during the pandemic.

“What happened on Sept. 11 was one discrete event, and although it obviously led to years of recovering body parts and cleaning up Ground Zero, and on a national level it led to a war, it nevertheless was a single event,” Dr. DePierro observed. By contrast, the COVID-19 pandemic is ongoing, and for health care practitioners, “it’s by no means over. Again and again, they are being thrown back into battle, dealing with fatigue, weariness, and loss of life.”

Moreover, “it is my understanding that immediately following 9/11, there was a general coming together in our country, but it’s obvious that today, there’s a great deal of fractiousness, contention, disagreement, and disunity in our country when it comes to COVID-19,” Dr. DePierro continued.

“This takes a great toll, particularly on health care workers who are dealing with COVID-19 on a daily basis and experience a disconnect between what they see on their floors and ICUs of the hospital, experiencing loss of life they’ve likely never encountered in their careers, and what people are saying when they downplay the seriousness of COVID-19,” he said.

Dr. Ofri agreed. “The fragmentation of our country and the failure of leadership at the highest level to provide even the basics, such as PPE [personal protective equipment] for health care professionals, left us baffled, profoundly hurt, and angry.”

A positive difference between the COVID-19 pandemic and the aftermath of 9/11 is the development of sophisticated technology that allows interventions for traumatized individuals – both health care professionals and the general public – through telehealth, Dr. DePierro pointed out.

“I would say that these resources and technologies are a silver lining and should continue to be expanded on,” he said. “Now, busy health care workers can access all manner of supportive services, including teletherapy, right from home or between shifts.”

Another “silver lining” is that the pandemic has shone a spotlight on an issue that predated the pandemic – the mental health of health care professionals. Opening a discussion about this has reduced stigma and hopefully has paved the way for improved treatments and for providing resources.

Dr. Dass-Brailsford added that “it is important, going forward, for all of us to be trauma informed, to know how trauma and trauma-related stress unfolds in both other people and yourself, and to know what coping skills can be used to avoid crises from developing – a task that extends across all types of disasters.”

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

The scope and magnitude of the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon were unprecedented in U.S. history. It was arguably the most serious trauma to beset Americans on U.S. soil. The 20th anniversary of 9/11 will take place during another crisis, not only in American history but also in world history – the COVID-19 pandemic.

Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images

“As different as these two events are, there are obvious points of comparison,” Jonathan DePierro, PhD, assistant professor of psychiatry, Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, New York, said in an interview. “Both were unprecedented life-threatening situations, presenting threats to individuals’ lives and profoundly traumatizing not only society as a whole but also first responders.”

Dr. DePierro, who is also the clinical director of the Center for Stress, Resilience, and Personal Growth at Mount Sinai, thinks there are many lessons to be learned from the mental health response to 9/11 that can inform our understanding of and response to the mental health needs of today’s first responders in the COVID-19 crisis, particularly health care professionals.

“Every one of our hospitals became a ‘ground zero’ early during the pandemic, and we see the numbers rising again and hospitals again overwhelmed, so our institutions need to design interventions to meet the needs of our health care professionals,” he said.
 

Placing trauma within a new framework

According to Priscilla Dass-Brailsford, EdD, MPH, professor of psychology, department of psychiatry, Georgetown University, Washington, Sept. 11, 2001, “placed trauma within a new framework.”

“Prior to 9/11, crisis protocols and how to manage stress in the aftermath of violent events were uncommon,” Dr. Dass-Brailsford, a clinical psychologist with expertise in trauma who also chairs a clinical psychology program for the Chicago School of Professional Psychology, said in an interview.

As a first responder, she was involved in early interventions for survivors of 9/11. On Sept. 11, 2001, she had just resigned her position as coordinator of the community crisis response team – the first of its kind in the United States – through the Victims of Violence Program in Cambridge, in Cambridge, Mass.

The program responded to communities in which there were high rates of drive-by shootings and similar acts of violence. Because of her crisis experience, Dr. Dass-Brailsford was asked to conduct debriefings in Boston in the area where the 9/11 terrorists had stayed prior to boarding the planes that were used in the terrorist attacks. She subsequently went to New York City to conduct similar psychological debriefings with affected communities.

“What we’ve learned is that we had no crisis protocol on how to manage the stress in the aftermath of such a violent event, no standard operating procedures. There were very few people trained in crisis and trauma response at that time. Partially spurred by 9/11, trauma training programs became more prolific,” she said. Dr. Dass-Brailsford developed a trauma certification program at Lesley University in Cambridge, Mass., where she began to teach after 9/11. “I saw the importance of having clinicians trained to respond in a crisis, because responding to a crisis is very different from conducting regular mental health interventions.”
 

Short- and long-term interventions

Dr. DePierro said that Mount Sinai has a 20-year history of responding to the physical and mental health needs of 9/11 responders.

“We saw a number of first responders experiencing clinical depression, anxiety, a lot of worry, symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, and an increase in alcohol and/or substance use,” he recounted. In some, these responses were immediate; in others, the onset of symptoms was more gradual. Some responders had acute reactions that lasted for several months to a year, whereas for others, the reactions were prolonged, and they remained “chronically distressed long after the immediate exposure to the event,” he said.

Recent studies have shown that, during the COVID-19 pandemic, health care professionals and many essential workers have experienced similar symptoms, Dr. DePierro noted.

Mental health care professionals who provided interventions for workers involved in recovery and cleanup at the World Trade Center have highlighted the need for long-term monitoring of people on the front lines during the COVID-19 pandemic – especially health care workers, other essential personnel (for example, delivery, postal, and grocery store workers) and surviving family members. “Health monitoring and treatment efforts for 9/11 survivors and responders were put into place soon after the attacks and continue to this day,” using funding provided through the James Zadroga Act, Dr. DePierro said.

“Without similarly unified health registry and treatment services, many individuals – especially from underserved groups – will likely experience chronic mental health consequences and will be unable to access high-quality health care services,” he stated.
 

‘Psychological first aid’

“Although many people who go through a crisis – whether as a result of terrorism, such as 9/11, or a medical crisis, such as the current pandemic, or a natural disaster, such as Hurricane Katrina – experience PTSD, it’s important to note that not everyone who goes through a crisis and is traumatized will go on to develop PTSD,” Dr. Dass-Brailsford emphasized.

“To me, 9/11 placed psychological first aid on the map. Even if you are not a clinician, you can be trained to provide psychological first aid by becoming familiar with people’s reactions to trauma and how you can support them through it,” she continued.

For example, if a coworker is agitated or “seems to be having a meltdown, you can be there by offering support and getting them the appropriate help.” Research has suggested that having social support before and after a traumatic event can be helpful in determining vulnerability to the development of PTSD and in modulating the impact of the trauma.

Psychological first aid is helpful as an interim measure. “If you see a coworker holding their head in their hands all day and staring at the screen, identifying whether the person might be having a dissociative episode is critical. Providing some support is important, but if more intensive professional support is needed, determining that and making a referral becomes key,” Dr. Dass-Brailsford stated.

Dr. DePierro added: “One of the most important messages that I want health care workers to know from my years of working with 9/11 survivors is that feeling distressed after a traumatic event is very common, but with effective care, one doesn’t necessarily need to be in treatment for years.”

Danielle Ofri, MD, PhD, clinical professor, department of medicine, New York University, agreed. “It is important to continue keeping tabs on each other and remaining sensitive to the collateral struggles of our colleagues. Some have children who are struggling in school, others have parents who have lost a job. Continuing to check in on others and offer support is critical going forward,” she said in an interview.
 

Cohesiveness and volunteerism

One of the most powerful antidotes to long-term traumatization is a sense of community cohesiveness. This was the case following 9/11, and it is the case during the COVID-19 pandemic, according to Dr. Ofri, an internist at Bellevue Hospital in New York.

“There was an enormous mobilization. Bellevue is a city hospital with a level 1 trauma center, and we expected to be swamped, so the whole hospital shifted into gear,” said Dr. Ofri. “What would have been terrifying seemed tolerable because we felt that we were in it together. We discharged the inpatients to make beds available. Within hours, we had converted clinics into emergency departments and ICUs. We worked seamlessly, and the crisis brought us together ... but then, of course, no patients showed up.”

She described her relationship with her colleagues as “feeling almost like a family, especially during the pandemic, when so many others were in lockdown and feeling isolated and useless.”

She and her colleagues saw each other daily. Although the content of their tasks and responsibilities changed and people were redeployed to other areas, “our workday didn’t really change. It would have been overwhelming if we hadn’t had our daily meetings to regroup and assess where we were. Each day, everything we had learned or implemented the day before – treatment protocols, testing protocols, our understanding of how the virus was communicated – would change and need to be reevaluated. Those morning meetings were critical to staying centered. It felt as though we were building a plane and flying it at the same time, which felt both scary and heady. Luckily, it took place within the fraternity of a committed and caring group.”

Dr. Ofri recounted that, after 9/11, as well as during the pandemic, “professionals kept jumping in from the sidelines to volunteer. Within hours of the collapse of the towers, the ED had filled with staff. People came out of retirement and out from vacation and out of the woodwork. It was very heartening.”

Even more inspiring, “all the departmental barriers seemed to break down. People were willing to step out of their ordinary roles and check their egos at the door. Seasoned physicians were willing to function as medical interns.”

This generosity of time and spirit “helped keep us going,” she said.

Dr. DePierro agreed. “One of the things I’ve seen on medical floors is that COVID actually brought some units together, increasing their cohesion and mutual support and increasing the bonds between people.” These intensified bonds “increased the resilience of everyone involved.”
 

Commitment to the community

Dr. Ofri recalls families gathering at the hospital after 9/11, watching posters of missing people going up all over the hospital as well as on mailboxes and lampposts. Because the center for missing people was located right next door to Bellevue, there were long lines of families coming in to register. The chief medical office was there, and a huge tent was built to accommodate the families. The tent took up the entire block. “We felt a lot of ownership, because families were coming here,” she said.

The street remained closed even as the days, weeks, and years stretched on, and the tent remained. It was used as a reflection area for families. During the pandemic, that area was used for refrigerated trucks that served as temporary morgues.

“Both logistically and emotionally, we had a feeling during the pandemic of, ‘We’ve been here before, we’ll do it again and be there for the community,’ ” Dr. Ofri said.

She noted that the sense of commitment to the community carried her and fellow clinicians through the toughest parts of 9/11 and of the COVID-19 pandemic.

“People look to the medical system as a lodestar. ‘Where’s my family member? What should I do? Should I be tested? Vaccinated?’ We were there to be a steady presence for the community physically, psychologically, emotionally, and medically, which helped center us as well,” Dr. Ofri said. “If we didn’t have that, we might have all given in to existential panic.”

She added: “Although we had to work twice as hard, often amid great personal risk, we had the good fortune of having a sense of purpose, something to contribute, plus the community of colleagues we cared about and trusted with our lives.”
 

Crisis and personal growth

Dr. DePierro said that participants who went through 9/11 have been coming to Mount Sinai’s World Trade Center Health Program for care for nearly two decades. “Many are doing quite well, despite the emotional trauma and the dust and toxin exposure, which has given us a window into what makes people resilient.”

Social and community support are key factors in resilience. Another is recognizing opportunities for personal or professional growth during the crisis, according to Dr. DePierro.

During the pandemic, hospital staff were redeployed to departments where they didn’t typically work. They worked with new colleagues and used skills in patient care that they hadn’t needed for years or even decades. “Although this was stressful and distressing, quite a number said they came through with more medical knowledge than before and that they had forged relationships in the trenches that have been lasting and have become important to them,” he reported.

He noted that, during both crises, for first responders and health care practitioners, religious or spiritual faith was a source of resilience. “During the peak of the pandemic, chaplains provided an exorbitant amount of staff support as clinicians turned to the chaplain to help make sense of what they were going through and connect to something greater than themselves.” Similarly, during 9/11, police and fire department chaplains “played a huge role in supporting the first responders,” Dr. DePierro said.

He said that Mount Sinai holds resilience workshops “where we focus on these topics and teach health care workers how to build resilience in their lives, heal day-to-day stressors, and even grow from the experience.”

Dr. Ofri, who is the founder and editor-in-chief of the Bellevue Literary Review, added that the arts played an important role in bolstering resilience and providing a creative outlet for clinicians after 9/11 and again during the pandemic.

The publication is celebrating its twentieth anniversary – its first issue went to press in September 2001. The cover contained an acknowledgment of 9/11.

Dr. Ofri said that a gala event had been planned for Oct. 7, 2001, to celebrate the inaugural issue of the publication. She assumed no one would show up, given that the United States had invaded Afghanistan only hours earlier. To her surprise, over a hundred people attended, “which made me realize the role of the arts during trauma. People were seeking to come together and hear poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.”

Dr. Ofri has been “impressed by the amount of incredible creative writing of all sorts that has been submitted [to the publication] during the pandemic, an unexpected flowering of the arts.”
 

Unique challenges, unique opportunities

All three experts pointed to several noteworthy differences between the experiences of first responders following 9/11 and those of today’s health care professionals during the pandemic.

“What happened on Sept. 11 was one discrete event, and although it obviously led to years of recovering body parts and cleaning up Ground Zero, and on a national level it led to a war, it nevertheless was a single event,” Dr. DePierro observed. By contrast, the COVID-19 pandemic is ongoing, and for health care practitioners, “it’s by no means over. Again and again, they are being thrown back into battle, dealing with fatigue, weariness, and loss of life.”

Moreover, “it is my understanding that immediately following 9/11, there was a general coming together in our country, but it’s obvious that today, there’s a great deal of fractiousness, contention, disagreement, and disunity in our country when it comes to COVID-19,” Dr. DePierro continued.

“This takes a great toll, particularly on health care workers who are dealing with COVID-19 on a daily basis and experience a disconnect between what they see on their floors and ICUs of the hospital, experiencing loss of life they’ve likely never encountered in their careers, and what people are saying when they downplay the seriousness of COVID-19,” he said.

Dr. Ofri agreed. “The fragmentation of our country and the failure of leadership at the highest level to provide even the basics, such as PPE [personal protective equipment] for health care professionals, left us baffled, profoundly hurt, and angry.”

A positive difference between the COVID-19 pandemic and the aftermath of 9/11 is the development of sophisticated technology that allows interventions for traumatized individuals – both health care professionals and the general public – through telehealth, Dr. DePierro pointed out.

“I would say that these resources and technologies are a silver lining and should continue to be expanded on,” he said. “Now, busy health care workers can access all manner of supportive services, including teletherapy, right from home or between shifts.”

Another “silver lining” is that the pandemic has shone a spotlight on an issue that predated the pandemic – the mental health of health care professionals. Opening a discussion about this has reduced stigma and hopefully has paved the way for improved treatments and for providing resources.

Dr. Dass-Brailsford added that “it is important, going forward, for all of us to be trauma informed, to know how trauma and trauma-related stress unfolds in both other people and yourself, and to know what coping skills can be used to avoid crises from developing – a task that extends across all types of disasters.”

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

Equine therapy, which involves interactions with horses in a controlled environment, reduces fear and other symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, new research suggests.

Man O'War Project

Results from a study of about 60 military veterans who underwent weekly sessions of horse-assisted therapy showed “marked reductions” in clinician-rated and self-reported symptoms of PTSD and depression up to 3 months post treatment.

“What we’re doing here with horses is helping people overcome something very specific to PTSD,” coinvestigator Yuval Neria, PhD, professor of clinical medical psychology and director of the PTSD treatment and research program, Columbia University Medical Center, New York, said in an interview.

“It offers the opportunity to overcome fear, to facilitate self-efficacy, to facilitate trust in yourself, to understand your feelings, and perhaps to change them over time, he said.

In addition, veterans loved the experience, Dr. Neria reported. He noted that many patients with PTSD have trouble with traditional treatments and are eager to try something “creative and new.”

The findings were published online Aug. 31, 2021, in the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry.
 

Building bonds

PTSD affects an estimated 10%-30% of U.S. military personnel. These rates are higher than in the general population because veterans may experience increased trauma through combat, injury, and sexual assault, the investigators noted.

Previous research has suggested that horse-human interactions can build bonds that foster behavioral changes. These powerful animals provide instantaneous feedback, allowing patients to develop emotional awareness.

“Horses are very sensitive to whatever we communicate with them, whether it’s fear or anger or stress,” said Dr. Neria.

Equine-assisted therapy is increasingly being used for various mental and physical conditions. Launching an open-label study to examine this type of treatment for PTSD “was an opportunity to look at something very, very different,” Dr. Neria said.

“This is not psychotherapy, it’s not medication, and it’s not neural stimulation,” he added.

The study included 63 veterans with PTSD (mean age, 50 years; 37% women). Of these, 47 were receiving psychotherapy alone, pharmacotherapy alone, or both. In addition, 48 had at least one comorbid disorder. All were divided into 16 groups of three to five participants each.

The program consisted of eight 90-minute weekly sessions conducted at a large equestrian center. Sessions were coled by a mental health professional and an equine specialist who guided participants in horse communication and behavior.

Early sessions focused on acquainting patients with the horses, grooming exercises, and learning “leading,” which involved directing a horse with a rope or wand. During subsequent sessions, patients became more comfortable with managing the horses in individual and teamwork exercises.

The horses were specifically chosen for their temperament and had no history of aggression. A horse wrangler attended sessions to further ensure safety.
 

Few dropouts

The study included four assessment points: pretreatment, midpoint, post treatment, and 3-month follow-up.

All 63 participants completed baseline assessments. Only five patients (7.9%) discontinued the program.

“We didn’t see dropouts at the rate we usually see in evidence-based therapies for PTSD, which is remarkable and suggests that people really loved it,” said Dr. Neria.

Man O'War Project

The primary outcome was the Clinician-Administered PTSD Scale–5 (CAPS-5), a structured interview that evaluates intrusive memories, social avoidance, and other symptoms based on DSM-5 criteria.

In the intent-to-treat analysis, mean CAPS-5 scores decreased from 38.6 at baseline to 26.9 post treatment. In addition, 29 (46.0%) and 23 (36.5%) participants scored below the PTSD diagnostic threshold of 25 at posttreatment and follow-up, respectively.

Notably, 50.8% of the study population had a clinically significant change, defined as 30% or greater decrease in CAPS-5 score, at post treatment; 54.0% had a significant change at follow-up.

Mean scores on the self-reported 20-item PTSD Checklist for DSM-5 questionnaire decreased from 50.7 at baseline to 34.6 at study termination.

Depression symptoms, measured by the clinician-rated Hamilton Depression Rating Scale and the self-reported Beck Depression Inventory–II, also improved.
 

Structural, functional change

The results did not differ by age, gender, or type of trauma. Dr. Neria noted that many women in the study had suffered sexual abuse or assault, suggesting that the intervention might be appropriate for PTSD outside the military.

“I’m very keen on moving this along into a civilian population,” he said.

The study did not examine potential mechanisms of action. The benefits may come from something inherent in the equine interactions, the human group process, or just being in the beautiful setting where the treatment took place, the investigators noted.

However, Dr. Neria thinks there is another potential explanation – real changes in the brain.

Neuroimaging of a subsample of 20 participants before and after the intervention showed a significant increase in caudate functional connectivity and a reduction in gray matter density of the thalamus and the caudate.

“We see a big change both structurally and functionally,” with the results pointing to an impact on the reward network of the brain, said Dr. Neria.

“This suggests that pleasure was perhaps the main mechanism of action,” which corresponds with patient reports of really enjoying the experience, he added.

Dr. Neria noted that equine therapy is different from bonding with a loyal dog. Interacting with a large and powerful animal may give veterans a sense of accomplishment and self-worth, which can be tremendously therapeutic.
 

Next step in therapy?

Commenting on the research, retired Col. Elspeth Cameron Ritchie, MD, chair of psychiatry, MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington, called equine therapy “innovative” in PTSD.

“I see this as the next step in finding acceptable therapies that people like to do,” she said.

Some patients have an aversion to talk therapy because it makes them relive their trauma; and many dislike the side effects of medications, which can include erectile dysfunction, said Dr. Ritchie, who was not involved with the research.

“So something like this that they can enjoy, have a sense of mastery, can bond with an animal, I think is wonderful,” she said.

Dr. Ritchie noted that working with animals offers “a kind of biofeedback” that may calm anxieties, help maintain control, and “is very nonjudgmental.”

However, she pointed out that equine therapy is not new. For example, horses have been used previously to treat patients with a variety of disabilities, including autism.

Dr. Ritchie thought it was “very wise” that study participants just learned to control the horses and didn’t actually ride them, because that could be a frightening experience.

Nonetheless, she noted equine therapy “is not going to be accessible for everybody.”

In addition, Dr. Ritchie was surprised that the investigators didn’t mention more of the quite extensive research that has been conducted on dog therapy in patients with PTSD.

Dr. Neria and Ritchie disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Equine therapy, which involves interactions with horses in a controlled environment, reduces fear and other symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, new research suggests.

Man O'War Project

Results from a study of about 60 military veterans who underwent weekly sessions of horse-assisted therapy showed “marked reductions” in clinician-rated and self-reported symptoms of PTSD and depression up to 3 months post treatment.

“What we’re doing here with horses is helping people overcome something very specific to PTSD,” coinvestigator Yuval Neria, PhD, professor of clinical medical psychology and director of the PTSD treatment and research program, Columbia University Medical Center, New York, said in an interview.

“It offers the opportunity to overcome fear, to facilitate self-efficacy, to facilitate trust in yourself, to understand your feelings, and perhaps to change them over time, he said.

In addition, veterans loved the experience, Dr. Neria reported. He noted that many patients with PTSD have trouble with traditional treatments and are eager to try something “creative and new.”

The findings were published online Aug. 31, 2021, in the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry.
 

Building bonds

PTSD affects an estimated 10%-30% of U.S. military personnel. These rates are higher than in the general population because veterans may experience increased trauma through combat, injury, and sexual assault, the investigators noted.

Previous research has suggested that horse-human interactions can build bonds that foster behavioral changes. These powerful animals provide instantaneous feedback, allowing patients to develop emotional awareness.

“Horses are very sensitive to whatever we communicate with them, whether it’s fear or anger or stress,” said Dr. Neria.

Equine-assisted therapy is increasingly being used for various mental and physical conditions. Launching an open-label study to examine this type of treatment for PTSD “was an opportunity to look at something very, very different,” Dr. Neria said.

“This is not psychotherapy, it’s not medication, and it’s not neural stimulation,” he added.

The study included 63 veterans with PTSD (mean age, 50 years; 37% women). Of these, 47 were receiving psychotherapy alone, pharmacotherapy alone, or both. In addition, 48 had at least one comorbid disorder. All were divided into 16 groups of three to five participants each.

The program consisted of eight 90-minute weekly sessions conducted at a large equestrian center. Sessions were coled by a mental health professional and an equine specialist who guided participants in horse communication and behavior.

Early sessions focused on acquainting patients with the horses, grooming exercises, and learning “leading,” which involved directing a horse with a rope or wand. During subsequent sessions, patients became more comfortable with managing the horses in individual and teamwork exercises.

The horses were specifically chosen for their temperament and had no history of aggression. A horse wrangler attended sessions to further ensure safety.
 

Few dropouts

The study included four assessment points: pretreatment, midpoint, post treatment, and 3-month follow-up.

All 63 participants completed baseline assessments. Only five patients (7.9%) discontinued the program.

“We didn’t see dropouts at the rate we usually see in evidence-based therapies for PTSD, which is remarkable and suggests that people really loved it,” said Dr. Neria.

Man O'War Project

The primary outcome was the Clinician-Administered PTSD Scale–5 (CAPS-5), a structured interview that evaluates intrusive memories, social avoidance, and other symptoms based on DSM-5 criteria.

In the intent-to-treat analysis, mean CAPS-5 scores decreased from 38.6 at baseline to 26.9 post treatment. In addition, 29 (46.0%) and 23 (36.5%) participants scored below the PTSD diagnostic threshold of 25 at posttreatment and follow-up, respectively.

Notably, 50.8% of the study population had a clinically significant change, defined as 30% or greater decrease in CAPS-5 score, at post treatment; 54.0% had a significant change at follow-up.

Mean scores on the self-reported 20-item PTSD Checklist for DSM-5 questionnaire decreased from 50.7 at baseline to 34.6 at study termination.

Depression symptoms, measured by the clinician-rated Hamilton Depression Rating Scale and the self-reported Beck Depression Inventory–II, also improved.
 

Structural, functional change

The results did not differ by age, gender, or type of trauma. Dr. Neria noted that many women in the study had suffered sexual abuse or assault, suggesting that the intervention might be appropriate for PTSD outside the military.

“I’m very keen on moving this along into a civilian population,” he said.

The study did not examine potential mechanisms of action. The benefits may come from something inherent in the equine interactions, the human group process, or just being in the beautiful setting where the treatment took place, the investigators noted.

However, Dr. Neria thinks there is another potential explanation – real changes in the brain.

Neuroimaging of a subsample of 20 participants before and after the intervention showed a significant increase in caudate functional connectivity and a reduction in gray matter density of the thalamus and the caudate.

“We see a big change both structurally and functionally,” with the results pointing to an impact on the reward network of the brain, said Dr. Neria.

“This suggests that pleasure was perhaps the main mechanism of action,” which corresponds with patient reports of really enjoying the experience, he added.

Dr. Neria noted that equine therapy is different from bonding with a loyal dog. Interacting with a large and powerful animal may give veterans a sense of accomplishment and self-worth, which can be tremendously therapeutic.
 

Next step in therapy?

Commenting on the research, retired Col. Elspeth Cameron Ritchie, MD, chair of psychiatry, MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington, called equine therapy “innovative” in PTSD.

“I see this as the next step in finding acceptable therapies that people like to do,” she said.

Some patients have an aversion to talk therapy because it makes them relive their trauma; and many dislike the side effects of medications, which can include erectile dysfunction, said Dr. Ritchie, who was not involved with the research.

“So something like this that they can enjoy, have a sense of mastery, can bond with an animal, I think is wonderful,” she said.

Dr. Ritchie noted that working with animals offers “a kind of biofeedback” that may calm anxieties, help maintain control, and “is very nonjudgmental.”

However, she pointed out that equine therapy is not new. For example, horses have been used previously to treat patients with a variety of disabilities, including autism.

Dr. Ritchie thought it was “very wise” that study participants just learned to control the horses and didn’t actually ride them, because that could be a frightening experience.

Nonetheless, she noted equine therapy “is not going to be accessible for everybody.”

In addition, Dr. Ritchie was surprised that the investigators didn’t mention more of the quite extensive research that has been conducted on dog therapy in patients with PTSD.

Dr. Neria and Ritchie disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Equine therapy, which involves interactions with horses in a controlled environment, reduces fear and other symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, new research suggests.

Man O'War Project

Results from a study of about 60 military veterans who underwent weekly sessions of horse-assisted therapy showed “marked reductions” in clinician-rated and self-reported symptoms of PTSD and depression up to 3 months post treatment.

“What we’re doing here with horses is helping people overcome something very specific to PTSD,” coinvestigator Yuval Neria, PhD, professor of clinical medical psychology and director of the PTSD treatment and research program, Columbia University Medical Center, New York, said in an interview.

“It offers the opportunity to overcome fear, to facilitate self-efficacy, to facilitate trust in yourself, to understand your feelings, and perhaps to change them over time, he said.

In addition, veterans loved the experience, Dr. Neria reported. He noted that many patients with PTSD have trouble with traditional treatments and are eager to try something “creative and new.”

The findings were published online Aug. 31, 2021, in the Journal of Clinical Psychiatry.
 

Building bonds

PTSD affects an estimated 10%-30% of U.S. military personnel. These rates are higher than in the general population because veterans may experience increased trauma through combat, injury, and sexual assault, the investigators noted.

Previous research has suggested that horse-human interactions can build bonds that foster behavioral changes. These powerful animals provide instantaneous feedback, allowing patients to develop emotional awareness.

“Horses are very sensitive to whatever we communicate with them, whether it’s fear or anger or stress,” said Dr. Neria.

Equine-assisted therapy is increasingly being used for various mental and physical conditions. Launching an open-label study to examine this type of treatment for PTSD “was an opportunity to look at something very, very different,” Dr. Neria said.

“This is not psychotherapy, it’s not medication, and it’s not neural stimulation,” he added.

The study included 63 veterans with PTSD (mean age, 50 years; 37% women). Of these, 47 were receiving psychotherapy alone, pharmacotherapy alone, or both. In addition, 48 had at least one comorbid disorder. All were divided into 16 groups of three to five participants each.

The program consisted of eight 90-minute weekly sessions conducted at a large equestrian center. Sessions were coled by a mental health professional and an equine specialist who guided participants in horse communication and behavior.

Early sessions focused on acquainting patients with the horses, grooming exercises, and learning “leading,” which involved directing a horse with a rope or wand. During subsequent sessions, patients became more comfortable with managing the horses in individual and teamwork exercises.

The horses were specifically chosen for their temperament and had no history of aggression. A horse wrangler attended sessions to further ensure safety.
 

Few dropouts

The study included four assessment points: pretreatment, midpoint, post treatment, and 3-month follow-up.

All 63 participants completed baseline assessments. Only five patients (7.9%) discontinued the program.

“We didn’t see dropouts at the rate we usually see in evidence-based therapies for PTSD, which is remarkable and suggests that people really loved it,” said Dr. Neria.

Man O'War Project

The primary outcome was the Clinician-Administered PTSD Scale–5 (CAPS-5), a structured interview that evaluates intrusive memories, social avoidance, and other symptoms based on DSM-5 criteria.

In the intent-to-treat analysis, mean CAPS-5 scores decreased from 38.6 at baseline to 26.9 post treatment. In addition, 29 (46.0%) and 23 (36.5%) participants scored below the PTSD diagnostic threshold of 25 at posttreatment and follow-up, respectively.

Notably, 50.8% of the study population had a clinically significant change, defined as 30% or greater decrease in CAPS-5 score, at post treatment; 54.0% had a significant change at follow-up.

Mean scores on the self-reported 20-item PTSD Checklist for DSM-5 questionnaire decreased from 50.7 at baseline to 34.6 at study termination.

Depression symptoms, measured by the clinician-rated Hamilton Depression Rating Scale and the self-reported Beck Depression Inventory–II, also improved.
 

Structural, functional change

The results did not differ by age, gender, or type of trauma. Dr. Neria noted that many women in the study had suffered sexual abuse or assault, suggesting that the intervention might be appropriate for PTSD outside the military.

“I’m very keen on moving this along into a civilian population,” he said.

The study did not examine potential mechanisms of action. The benefits may come from something inherent in the equine interactions, the human group process, or just being in the beautiful setting where the treatment took place, the investigators noted.

However, Dr. Neria thinks there is another potential explanation – real changes in the brain.

Neuroimaging of a subsample of 20 participants before and after the intervention showed a significant increase in caudate functional connectivity and a reduction in gray matter density of the thalamus and the caudate.

“We see a big change both structurally and functionally,” with the results pointing to an impact on the reward network of the brain, said Dr. Neria.

“This suggests that pleasure was perhaps the main mechanism of action,” which corresponds with patient reports of really enjoying the experience, he added.

Dr. Neria noted that equine therapy is different from bonding with a loyal dog. Interacting with a large and powerful animal may give veterans a sense of accomplishment and self-worth, which can be tremendously therapeutic.
 

Next step in therapy?

Commenting on the research, retired Col. Elspeth Cameron Ritchie, MD, chair of psychiatry, MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Washington, called equine therapy “innovative” in PTSD.

“I see this as the next step in finding acceptable therapies that people like to do,” she said.

Some patients have an aversion to talk therapy because it makes them relive their trauma; and many dislike the side effects of medications, which can include erectile dysfunction, said Dr. Ritchie, who was not involved with the research.

“So something like this that they can enjoy, have a sense of mastery, can bond with an animal, I think is wonderful,” she said.

Dr. Ritchie noted that working with animals offers “a kind of biofeedback” that may calm anxieties, help maintain control, and “is very nonjudgmental.”

However, she pointed out that equine therapy is not new. For example, horses have been used previously to treat patients with a variety of disabilities, including autism.

Dr. Ritchie thought it was “very wise” that study participants just learned to control the horses and didn’t actually ride them, because that could be a frightening experience.

Nonetheless, she noted equine therapy “is not going to be accessible for everybody.”

In addition, Dr. Ritchie was surprised that the investigators didn’t mention more of the quite extensive research that has been conducted on dog therapy in patients with PTSD.

Dr. Neria and Ritchie disclosed no relevant financial relationships.

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

Two models for treating patients with complex psychiatric disorders in primary care are equally effective, new research suggests.

FatCamera/Getty Images

Results from a pragmatic, randomized comparative effectiveness study involving more than 1,000 patients showed that both integrated telepsychiatry collaborative care (TCC) and telepsychiatry/telepsychology enhanced referral (TER) provided “significantly and substantially” improved clinical outcomes, researchers noted.

However, the referral model required substantially more mental health specialist time than does the integrated model.

Therefore, from a societal perspective, the integrated care approach “more efficiently uses this scarce resource,” lead author John Fortney, PhD, department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences, University of Washington, Seattle, told this news organization.

The findings were published online Aug. 25 in JAMA Psychiatry.
 

Clinically meaningful improvement

The Study to Promote Innovation in Rural Integrated Telepsychiatry (SPIRIT) trial included 1,004 adults with untreated posttraumatic stress disorder and/or bipolar disorder. The participants were from 24 primary care clinics in rural and underserved areas in which there were no on-site psychiatrists or psychologists.

In SPIRIT, 508 patients were randomly allocated to TCC, and 496 were assigned to TER.

With TCC, an on-site behavioral health care manager and an off-site telepsychiatrist consultant support the primary care clinician in prescribing medications. With TER, an off-site telepsychiatrist prescribes medication, and an off-site telepsychologist delivers therapy.

The primary outcome was mental health functioning at 12 months, as measured by the Veterans RAND 12-item Health Survey Mental Component Summary (MCS) score. MSC scores range from 0 to 100.

Baseline MCS scores for the study participants were two standard deviations below the national average. The mean MCS scores were 39.7 and 41.2 in the TCC and TER groups, respectively.

There was no significant difference between TCC and TER in 12-month MCS score (beta = 1.0; 95% confidence interval, –0.8 to 2.8; P = .28). In addition, no significant differences in treatment effects were identified.

Patients in both groups experienced “large and clinically meaningful” improvements in MCS scores from baseline to 12 months (Cohen d =  0.81 and 0.90 for TCC and TER, respectively), the researchers report.
 

‘Bit of a surprise’

The comparative effectiveness of both models in this study was “a bit of a surprise,” Dr. Fortney noted.

“We hypothesized that TCC would have better outcomes than TER because we thought patients would be more likely to engage in treatment,” he said.

In collaborative care, the familiar primary care practitioner is the prescriber. The local care manager’s job is to keep patients engaged in care, said Dr. Fortney.

“However, because the medical school telemental health providers were privileged and credentialed to practice in the primary care clinic, the referral process to the telepsychiatrist and telepsychologist was much more successful than it usually is. So engagement was the same in both groups, and thus outcomes were equally as good,” Dr. Fortney said.

He noted that the referral model is used more than the collaborative care model “because it is similar to the more traditional approach to managing complex psychiatric disorders. I would say this is true both before and after COVID-19, but more so after.”

From a health care system perspective, “clinical leadership should implement whichever approach is most sustainable,” the investigators concluded.
 

Good news for clinics

Commenting on the study, Adam C. Powell, PhD, president of Payer+Provider Syndicate, said the “similar efficacy” of teleintegrated care and telereferral care for delivering behavioral health services in primary care is “good news for clinics,” because it suggests that clinicians may pick between the two modes of delivery and achieve similar outcomes.

“The resources available within a clinic may determine which of these approaches is most viable. The teleintegrated care approach requires the clinic to have more extensive resources locally,” Dr. Powell noted.

However, he pointed out that the study did not report relative costs of the two approaches, which may also be a factor in determining which one clinics choose to implement.

“Overall, the study shows that advances in telemedicine are making it possible for patients to access telepsychiatry and to achieve improvements in their mental health. Given the lack of access that many patients face, telepsychiatry offers one potential solution,” Dr. Powell concluded.

The SPIRIT study was funded by a grant from the Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute. Dr. Fortney and Dr. Powell have reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Two models for treating patients with complex psychiatric disorders in primary care are equally effective, new research suggests.

FatCamera/Getty Images

Results from a pragmatic, randomized comparative effectiveness study involving more than 1,000 patients showed that both integrated telepsychiatry collaborative care (TCC) and telepsychiatry/telepsychology enhanced referral (TER) provided “significantly and substantially” improved clinical outcomes, researchers noted.

However, the referral model required substantially more mental health specialist time than does the integrated model.

Therefore, from a societal perspective, the integrated care approach “more efficiently uses this scarce resource,” lead author John Fortney, PhD, department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences, University of Washington, Seattle, told this news organization.

The findings were published online Aug. 25 in JAMA Psychiatry.
 

Clinically meaningful improvement

The Study to Promote Innovation in Rural Integrated Telepsychiatry (SPIRIT) trial included 1,004 adults with untreated posttraumatic stress disorder and/or bipolar disorder. The participants were from 24 primary care clinics in rural and underserved areas in which there were no on-site psychiatrists or psychologists.

In SPIRIT, 508 patients were randomly allocated to TCC, and 496 were assigned to TER.

With TCC, an on-site behavioral health care manager and an off-site telepsychiatrist consultant support the primary care clinician in prescribing medications. With TER, an off-site telepsychiatrist prescribes medication, and an off-site telepsychologist delivers therapy.

The primary outcome was mental health functioning at 12 months, as measured by the Veterans RAND 12-item Health Survey Mental Component Summary (MCS) score. MSC scores range from 0 to 100.

Baseline MCS scores for the study participants were two standard deviations below the national average. The mean MCS scores were 39.7 and 41.2 in the TCC and TER groups, respectively.

There was no significant difference between TCC and TER in 12-month MCS score (beta = 1.0; 95% confidence interval, –0.8 to 2.8; P = .28). In addition, no significant differences in treatment effects were identified.

Patients in both groups experienced “large and clinically meaningful” improvements in MCS scores from baseline to 12 months (Cohen d =  0.81 and 0.90 for TCC and TER, respectively), the researchers report.
 

‘Bit of a surprise’

The comparative effectiveness of both models in this study was “a bit of a surprise,” Dr. Fortney noted.

“We hypothesized that TCC would have better outcomes than TER because we thought patients would be more likely to engage in treatment,” he said.

In collaborative care, the familiar primary care practitioner is the prescriber. The local care manager’s job is to keep patients engaged in care, said Dr. Fortney.

“However, because the medical school telemental health providers were privileged and credentialed to practice in the primary care clinic, the referral process to the telepsychiatrist and telepsychologist was much more successful than it usually is. So engagement was the same in both groups, and thus outcomes were equally as good,” Dr. Fortney said.

He noted that the referral model is used more than the collaborative care model “because it is similar to the more traditional approach to managing complex psychiatric disorders. I would say this is true both before and after COVID-19, but more so after.”

From a health care system perspective, “clinical leadership should implement whichever approach is most sustainable,” the investigators concluded.
 

Good news for clinics

Commenting on the study, Adam C. Powell, PhD, president of Payer+Provider Syndicate, said the “similar efficacy” of teleintegrated care and telereferral care for delivering behavioral health services in primary care is “good news for clinics,” because it suggests that clinicians may pick between the two modes of delivery and achieve similar outcomes.

“The resources available within a clinic may determine which of these approaches is most viable. The teleintegrated care approach requires the clinic to have more extensive resources locally,” Dr. Powell noted.

However, he pointed out that the study did not report relative costs of the two approaches, which may also be a factor in determining which one clinics choose to implement.

“Overall, the study shows that advances in telemedicine are making it possible for patients to access telepsychiatry and to achieve improvements in their mental health. Given the lack of access that many patients face, telepsychiatry offers one potential solution,” Dr. Powell concluded.

The SPIRIT study was funded by a grant from the Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute. Dr. Fortney and Dr. Powell have reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Two models for treating patients with complex psychiatric disorders in primary care are equally effective, new research suggests.

FatCamera/Getty Images

Results from a pragmatic, randomized comparative effectiveness study involving more than 1,000 patients showed that both integrated telepsychiatry collaborative care (TCC) and telepsychiatry/telepsychology enhanced referral (TER) provided “significantly and substantially” improved clinical outcomes, researchers noted.

However, the referral model required substantially more mental health specialist time than does the integrated model.

Therefore, from a societal perspective, the integrated care approach “more efficiently uses this scarce resource,” lead author John Fortney, PhD, department of psychiatry and behavioral sciences, University of Washington, Seattle, told this news organization.

The findings were published online Aug. 25 in JAMA Psychiatry.
 

Clinically meaningful improvement

The Study to Promote Innovation in Rural Integrated Telepsychiatry (SPIRIT) trial included 1,004 adults with untreated posttraumatic stress disorder and/or bipolar disorder. The participants were from 24 primary care clinics in rural and underserved areas in which there were no on-site psychiatrists or psychologists.

In SPIRIT, 508 patients were randomly allocated to TCC, and 496 were assigned to TER.

With TCC, an on-site behavioral health care manager and an off-site telepsychiatrist consultant support the primary care clinician in prescribing medications. With TER, an off-site telepsychiatrist prescribes medication, and an off-site telepsychologist delivers therapy.

The primary outcome was mental health functioning at 12 months, as measured by the Veterans RAND 12-item Health Survey Mental Component Summary (MCS) score. MSC scores range from 0 to 100.

Baseline MCS scores for the study participants were two standard deviations below the national average. The mean MCS scores were 39.7 and 41.2 in the TCC and TER groups, respectively.

There was no significant difference between TCC and TER in 12-month MCS score (beta = 1.0; 95% confidence interval, –0.8 to 2.8; P = .28). In addition, no significant differences in treatment effects were identified.

Patients in both groups experienced “large and clinically meaningful” improvements in MCS scores from baseline to 12 months (Cohen d =  0.81 and 0.90 for TCC and TER, respectively), the researchers report.
 

‘Bit of a surprise’

The comparative effectiveness of both models in this study was “a bit of a surprise,” Dr. Fortney noted.

“We hypothesized that TCC would have better outcomes than TER because we thought patients would be more likely to engage in treatment,” he said.

In collaborative care, the familiar primary care practitioner is the prescriber. The local care manager’s job is to keep patients engaged in care, said Dr. Fortney.

“However, because the medical school telemental health providers were privileged and credentialed to practice in the primary care clinic, the referral process to the telepsychiatrist and telepsychologist was much more successful than it usually is. So engagement was the same in both groups, and thus outcomes were equally as good,” Dr. Fortney said.

He noted that the referral model is used more than the collaborative care model “because it is similar to the more traditional approach to managing complex psychiatric disorders. I would say this is true both before and after COVID-19, but more so after.”

From a health care system perspective, “clinical leadership should implement whichever approach is most sustainable,” the investigators concluded.
 

Good news for clinics

Commenting on the study, Adam C. Powell, PhD, president of Payer+Provider Syndicate, said the “similar efficacy” of teleintegrated care and telereferral care for delivering behavioral health services in primary care is “good news for clinics,” because it suggests that clinicians may pick between the two modes of delivery and achieve similar outcomes.

“The resources available within a clinic may determine which of these approaches is most viable. The teleintegrated care approach requires the clinic to have more extensive resources locally,” Dr. Powell noted.

However, he pointed out that the study did not report relative costs of the two approaches, which may also be a factor in determining which one clinics choose to implement.

“Overall, the study shows that advances in telemedicine are making it possible for patients to access telepsychiatry and to achieve improvements in their mental health. Given the lack of access that many patients face, telepsychiatry offers one potential solution,” Dr. Powell concluded.

The SPIRIT study was funded by a grant from the Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute. Dr. Fortney and Dr. Powell have reported no relevant financial relationships.

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

Officer Scott Davis is a passionate man who thinks and talks quickly. As a member of the Special Events Team for Montgomery County, Maryland, he was already staging in Rockville, outside of Washington, D.C., when the call came in last Jan. 6 to move their unit to the U.S. Capitol. 

Courtesy Scott Davis

“It was surreal,” said Mr. Davis. “There were people from all different groups at the Capitol that day. Many people were trying to get out, but others surrounded us. They called us ‘human race traitors.’ And then I heard someone say, ‘It’s good you brought your shields, we’ll carry your bodies out on them.’”

Mr. Davis described hours of mayhem during which he was hit with bear spray, a brick, a chair, and a metal rod. One of the members of Mr. Davis’ unit remains on leave with a head injury nearly 9 months after the siege.  

“It went on for 3 hours, but it felt like 15 minutes. Then, all of a sudden, it was over.”

For the members of law enforcement at the Capitol that day, the repercussions are still being felt, perhaps most notably in the case of the four officers who subsequently died of suicide. Three of the officers were with the Metropolitan Police Department of the District of Columbia and one worked for the Capitol Police Department.

Police officers are subjected to traumas on a regular basis and often placed in circumstances where their lives are in danger. Yet four suicides within a short time – all connected to a single event – is particularly shocking and tragic, even more so for how little attention it has garnered to date.  
 

What contributes to the high rate of suicide among officers?

Scott Silverii, PhD, a former police officer and author of Broken and Blue: A Policeman’s Guide to Health, Hope, and Healing, commented that he “wouldn’t be surprised if there are more suicides to come.” This stems not only from the experiences of that day but also the elevated risk for suicide that law enforcement officers already experienced prior to the Capitol riots. Suicide remains a rare event, with a national all-population average of 13.9 per 100,000 citizens. But as Dr. Silverii noted, more officers die by suicide each year than are killed in the line of duty. 

“Suicide is a big part of police culture – officers are doers and fixers, and it is seen as being more honorable to take yourself out of the equation than it is to ask for help,” he said. “Most officers come in with past pain, and this is a situation where they are being overwhelmed and under-respected. At the same time, police culture is a closed culture, and it is not friendly to researchers.”

Another contributor is the frequency with which law enforcement officers are exposed to trauma, according to Vernon Herron, Director of Officer Safety and Wellness for the Baltimore City Police. 

“Suicide can be a direct result of trauma, and at some point you just can’t absorb it, and it leads to problems,” Mr. Herron said, citing the psychiatric and addiction issues that officers commonly experience.
 

Protecting the protectors

Mr. Herron and others are working to address these problems head-on.

“We are trying to identify employees exposed to trauma and to offer counseling and intervention,” he said, “Otherwise, everything else will fall short.”

Yet implementing such measures is no easy task, given the lack of a central oversight organization for law enforcement, said Sheldon Greenberg, PhD, a former police officer and professor of management in the School of Education at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore.

“In the United States there is no such thing as ‘The Police.’ There is no one in a position to set policy, standards, or training mandates nationally,” he said. “There are approximately 18,000 police and sheriff departments in the country, and many of them are small. No one can compel law enforcement agencies to implement officer wellness and suicide prevention programs, make counseling available to officers, or train supervisors and peers to identify suicide ideation.”

Dr. Greenberg said a further barrier to helping police officers considering self-harm is posed by the fact that even if they do seek out counseling, there is no guarantee that it will remain confidential. 

“Support personnel have an obligation to report an officer who is thinking about committing suicide,” he said. “Many officers are concerned about this lack of confidentiality and that they may be branded if they seek help.”

Although Dr. Greenberg said many police officers are self-professed “action junkies,” even their unusually high capacity for stress is often tested by the realities of the job.  

“Increasing demands for service, shortages of personnel, misinformation about police, COVID-19, talk about restructuring policing with little concrete direction, increased exposure to violence, greater numbers of vulnerable people, and more take a toll over time,” he lamented. “In addition, we are in a recruiting crisis in law enforcement, and there are no standards to ensure the quality of psychological screening provided to applicants. Many officers will go through their entire career and never be screened again. We know little about the stresses and strains that officers bring to the job.”
 

After the siege

It is not clear how many police officers were present at the Capitol on Jan. 6. During the chaos of the day, reinforcements to the Capitol Police Department arrived from Washington D.C., Maryland, and Virginia, but no official numbers on responders were obtained; Mr. Davis thought it was likely that there were at least 1,000 law enforcement officers present. Those who did respond sustained an estimated 100 injuries, including an officer who died the next day. Of the officers who died by suicide, one died 3 days after, another died 9 days later, and two more died in July – numbers that contradict the notion that this is some coincidence. Officer Alexander Kettering, a colleague of Mr. Davis who has been with Montgomery County Police for 15 years, was among those tasked with protecting the Capitol on Jan. 6. The chaos, violence, and destruction of the day has stuck with him and continues to occupy his thoughts.

“I had a front-row seat to the whole thing. It was overwhelming, and I’ve never seen people this angry,” said Mr. Kettering. “There were people up on the veranda and on the scaffolding set up for the inauguration. They were smashing windows and throwing things into the crowd. It was insane. There were decent people coming up to us and saying they would pray for us, then others calling us traitors, telling us to stand down and join them.”

In the aftermath of the Capitol siege, Mr. Kettering watched in dismay as the narrative of the day’s events began to warp.

“At first there was a consensus that what happened was so wrong, and then the politics took over. People were saying it wasn’t as bad as the media said, that it really wasn’t that violent and those speaking out are traitors or political operatives. I relive it every day, and it’s hard to escape, even in casual conversation.”

He added that the days’ events were compounded by the already heightened tensions surrounding the national debate around policing.

“It’s been 18 months of stress, of anti-police movements, and there is a fine line between addressing police brutality and being anti-police,” Mr. Kettering said, noting that the aforementioned issues have all contributed to the ongoing struggles his fellow officers are experiencing. 

“It’s not a thing for cops to talk about how an event affected them,” he said. “A lot of officers have just shut down. People have careers and pensions to protect, and every time we stop a motorist, something could go wrong, even if we do everything right. There are mixed signals: They tell us, ‘Defend but don’t defend.’” 

His colleague, Mr. Davis, said that officers “need more support from politicians,” noting that he felt particularly insulted by a comment made by a Montgomery County public official who accused the officers present at the Capitol of racism. “And finally, we feel a little betrayed by the public.”
 

More questions than answers from the Capitol’s day of chaos

What about the events of Jan. 6 led to the suicides of four law enforcement officers and what can be done to prevent more deaths in the future? There are the individual factors of each man’s personal history, circumstances, and vulnerabilities, including the sense of being personally endangered, witnessing trauma, and direct injury – one officer who died of suicide had sustained a head injury that day.

We don’t know if the officers went into the event with preexisting mental illness or addiction or if the day’s events precipitated psychiatric episodes. And with all the partisan anger surrounding the presidential election, we don’t know if each officer’s political beliefs amplified his distress over what occurred in a social media climate where police are being faulted by all sides.

When multiple suicides occur in a community, there is always concern about a “copycat” phenomena. These concerns are made more difficult to address, however, given the police culture of taboo and stigma associated with getting professional help, difficulty accessing care, and career repercussions for speaking openly about suicidal thoughts and mental health issues.

Finally, there is the current political agenda that leaves officers feeling unsupported, fearful of negative outcomes, and unappreciated. The Capitol siege in particular embodied a great deal of national distress and confusion over basic issues of truth, justice, and perceptions of reality in our polarized society.  

Can we move to a place where those who enforce laws have easy access to treatment, free from stigma? Can we encourage a culture that does not tolerate brutality or racism, while also refusing to label all police as bad and lending support to their mission? Can we be more attuned to the repercussions of circumstances where officers are witnesses to trauma, are endangered themselves, and would benefit from acknowledgment of their distress? 

Time will tell if our anti-police pendulum swings back. In the meantime, these four suicides among people defending our country remain tragically overlooked.
 

Dinah Miller, MD, is coauthor of Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice in Baltimore and is an assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins University. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Officer Scott Davis is a passionate man who thinks and talks quickly. As a member of the Special Events Team for Montgomery County, Maryland, he was already staging in Rockville, outside of Washington, D.C., when the call came in last Jan. 6 to move their unit to the U.S. Capitol. 

Courtesy Scott Davis

“It was surreal,” said Mr. Davis. “There were people from all different groups at the Capitol that day. Many people were trying to get out, but others surrounded us. They called us ‘human race traitors.’ And then I heard someone say, ‘It’s good you brought your shields, we’ll carry your bodies out on them.’”

Mr. Davis described hours of mayhem during which he was hit with bear spray, a brick, a chair, and a metal rod. One of the members of Mr. Davis’ unit remains on leave with a head injury nearly 9 months after the siege.  

“It went on for 3 hours, but it felt like 15 minutes. Then, all of a sudden, it was over.”

For the members of law enforcement at the Capitol that day, the repercussions are still being felt, perhaps most notably in the case of the four officers who subsequently died of suicide. Three of the officers were with the Metropolitan Police Department of the District of Columbia and one worked for the Capitol Police Department.

Police officers are subjected to traumas on a regular basis and often placed in circumstances where their lives are in danger. Yet four suicides within a short time – all connected to a single event – is particularly shocking and tragic, even more so for how little attention it has garnered to date.  
 

What contributes to the high rate of suicide among officers?

Scott Silverii, PhD, a former police officer and author of Broken and Blue: A Policeman’s Guide to Health, Hope, and Healing, commented that he “wouldn’t be surprised if there are more suicides to come.” This stems not only from the experiences of that day but also the elevated risk for suicide that law enforcement officers already experienced prior to the Capitol riots. Suicide remains a rare event, with a national all-population average of 13.9 per 100,000 citizens. But as Dr. Silverii noted, more officers die by suicide each year than are killed in the line of duty. 

“Suicide is a big part of police culture – officers are doers and fixers, and it is seen as being more honorable to take yourself out of the equation than it is to ask for help,” he said. “Most officers come in with past pain, and this is a situation where they are being overwhelmed and under-respected. At the same time, police culture is a closed culture, and it is not friendly to researchers.”

Another contributor is the frequency with which law enforcement officers are exposed to trauma, according to Vernon Herron, Director of Officer Safety and Wellness for the Baltimore City Police. 

“Suicide can be a direct result of trauma, and at some point you just can’t absorb it, and it leads to problems,” Mr. Herron said, citing the psychiatric and addiction issues that officers commonly experience.
 

Protecting the protectors

Mr. Herron and others are working to address these problems head-on.

“We are trying to identify employees exposed to trauma and to offer counseling and intervention,” he said, “Otherwise, everything else will fall short.”

Yet implementing such measures is no easy task, given the lack of a central oversight organization for law enforcement, said Sheldon Greenberg, PhD, a former police officer and professor of management in the School of Education at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore.

“In the United States there is no such thing as ‘The Police.’ There is no one in a position to set policy, standards, or training mandates nationally,” he said. “There are approximately 18,000 police and sheriff departments in the country, and many of them are small. No one can compel law enforcement agencies to implement officer wellness and suicide prevention programs, make counseling available to officers, or train supervisors and peers to identify suicide ideation.”

Dr. Greenberg said a further barrier to helping police officers considering self-harm is posed by the fact that even if they do seek out counseling, there is no guarantee that it will remain confidential. 

“Support personnel have an obligation to report an officer who is thinking about committing suicide,” he said. “Many officers are concerned about this lack of confidentiality and that they may be branded if they seek help.”

Although Dr. Greenberg said many police officers are self-professed “action junkies,” even their unusually high capacity for stress is often tested by the realities of the job.  

“Increasing demands for service, shortages of personnel, misinformation about police, COVID-19, talk about restructuring policing with little concrete direction, increased exposure to violence, greater numbers of vulnerable people, and more take a toll over time,” he lamented. “In addition, we are in a recruiting crisis in law enforcement, and there are no standards to ensure the quality of psychological screening provided to applicants. Many officers will go through their entire career and never be screened again. We know little about the stresses and strains that officers bring to the job.”
 

After the siege

It is not clear how many police officers were present at the Capitol on Jan. 6. During the chaos of the day, reinforcements to the Capitol Police Department arrived from Washington D.C., Maryland, and Virginia, but no official numbers on responders were obtained; Mr. Davis thought it was likely that there were at least 1,000 law enforcement officers present. Those who did respond sustained an estimated 100 injuries, including an officer who died the next day. Of the officers who died by suicide, one died 3 days after, another died 9 days later, and two more died in July – numbers that contradict the notion that this is some coincidence. Officer Alexander Kettering, a colleague of Mr. Davis who has been with Montgomery County Police for 15 years, was among those tasked with protecting the Capitol on Jan. 6. The chaos, violence, and destruction of the day has stuck with him and continues to occupy his thoughts.

“I had a front-row seat to the whole thing. It was overwhelming, and I’ve never seen people this angry,” said Mr. Kettering. “There were people up on the veranda and on the scaffolding set up for the inauguration. They were smashing windows and throwing things into the crowd. It was insane. There were decent people coming up to us and saying they would pray for us, then others calling us traitors, telling us to stand down and join them.”

In the aftermath of the Capitol siege, Mr. Kettering watched in dismay as the narrative of the day’s events began to warp.

“At first there was a consensus that what happened was so wrong, and then the politics took over. People were saying it wasn’t as bad as the media said, that it really wasn’t that violent and those speaking out are traitors or political operatives. I relive it every day, and it’s hard to escape, even in casual conversation.”

He added that the days’ events were compounded by the already heightened tensions surrounding the national debate around policing.

“It’s been 18 months of stress, of anti-police movements, and there is a fine line between addressing police brutality and being anti-police,” Mr. Kettering said, noting that the aforementioned issues have all contributed to the ongoing struggles his fellow officers are experiencing. 

“It’s not a thing for cops to talk about how an event affected them,” he said. “A lot of officers have just shut down. People have careers and pensions to protect, and every time we stop a motorist, something could go wrong, even if we do everything right. There are mixed signals: They tell us, ‘Defend but don’t defend.’” 

His colleague, Mr. Davis, said that officers “need more support from politicians,” noting that he felt particularly insulted by a comment made by a Montgomery County public official who accused the officers present at the Capitol of racism. “And finally, we feel a little betrayed by the public.”
 

More questions than answers from the Capitol’s day of chaos

What about the events of Jan. 6 led to the suicides of four law enforcement officers and what can be done to prevent more deaths in the future? There are the individual factors of each man’s personal history, circumstances, and vulnerabilities, including the sense of being personally endangered, witnessing trauma, and direct injury – one officer who died of suicide had sustained a head injury that day.

We don’t know if the officers went into the event with preexisting mental illness or addiction or if the day’s events precipitated psychiatric episodes. And with all the partisan anger surrounding the presidential election, we don’t know if each officer’s political beliefs amplified his distress over what occurred in a social media climate where police are being faulted by all sides.

When multiple suicides occur in a community, there is always concern about a “copycat” phenomena. These concerns are made more difficult to address, however, given the police culture of taboo and stigma associated with getting professional help, difficulty accessing care, and career repercussions for speaking openly about suicidal thoughts and mental health issues.

Finally, there is the current political agenda that leaves officers feeling unsupported, fearful of negative outcomes, and unappreciated. The Capitol siege in particular embodied a great deal of national distress and confusion over basic issues of truth, justice, and perceptions of reality in our polarized society.  

Can we move to a place where those who enforce laws have easy access to treatment, free from stigma? Can we encourage a culture that does not tolerate brutality or racism, while also refusing to label all police as bad and lending support to their mission? Can we be more attuned to the repercussions of circumstances where officers are witnesses to trauma, are endangered themselves, and would benefit from acknowledgment of their distress? 

Time will tell if our anti-police pendulum swings back. In the meantime, these four suicides among people defending our country remain tragically overlooked.
 

Dinah Miller, MD, is coauthor of Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice in Baltimore and is an assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins University. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Officer Scott Davis is a passionate man who thinks and talks quickly. As a member of the Special Events Team for Montgomery County, Maryland, he was already staging in Rockville, outside of Washington, D.C., when the call came in last Jan. 6 to move their unit to the U.S. Capitol. 

Courtesy Scott Davis

“It was surreal,” said Mr. Davis. “There were people from all different groups at the Capitol that day. Many people were trying to get out, but others surrounded us. They called us ‘human race traitors.’ And then I heard someone say, ‘It’s good you brought your shields, we’ll carry your bodies out on them.’”

Mr. Davis described hours of mayhem during which he was hit with bear spray, a brick, a chair, and a metal rod. One of the members of Mr. Davis’ unit remains on leave with a head injury nearly 9 months after the siege.  

“It went on for 3 hours, but it felt like 15 minutes. Then, all of a sudden, it was over.”

For the members of law enforcement at the Capitol that day, the repercussions are still being felt, perhaps most notably in the case of the four officers who subsequently died of suicide. Three of the officers were with the Metropolitan Police Department of the District of Columbia and one worked for the Capitol Police Department.

Police officers are subjected to traumas on a regular basis and often placed in circumstances where their lives are in danger. Yet four suicides within a short time – all connected to a single event – is particularly shocking and tragic, even more so for how little attention it has garnered to date.  
 

What contributes to the high rate of suicide among officers?

Scott Silverii, PhD, a former police officer and author of Broken and Blue: A Policeman’s Guide to Health, Hope, and Healing, commented that he “wouldn’t be surprised if there are more suicides to come.” This stems not only from the experiences of that day but also the elevated risk for suicide that law enforcement officers already experienced prior to the Capitol riots. Suicide remains a rare event, with a national all-population average of 13.9 per 100,000 citizens. But as Dr. Silverii noted, more officers die by suicide each year than are killed in the line of duty. 

“Suicide is a big part of police culture – officers are doers and fixers, and it is seen as being more honorable to take yourself out of the equation than it is to ask for help,” he said. “Most officers come in with past pain, and this is a situation where they are being overwhelmed and under-respected. At the same time, police culture is a closed culture, and it is not friendly to researchers.”

Another contributor is the frequency with which law enforcement officers are exposed to trauma, according to Vernon Herron, Director of Officer Safety and Wellness for the Baltimore City Police. 

“Suicide can be a direct result of trauma, and at some point you just can’t absorb it, and it leads to problems,” Mr. Herron said, citing the psychiatric and addiction issues that officers commonly experience.
 

Protecting the protectors

Mr. Herron and others are working to address these problems head-on.

“We are trying to identify employees exposed to trauma and to offer counseling and intervention,” he said, “Otherwise, everything else will fall short.”

Yet implementing such measures is no easy task, given the lack of a central oversight organization for law enforcement, said Sheldon Greenberg, PhD, a former police officer and professor of management in the School of Education at Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore.

“In the United States there is no such thing as ‘The Police.’ There is no one in a position to set policy, standards, or training mandates nationally,” he said. “There are approximately 18,000 police and sheriff departments in the country, and many of them are small. No one can compel law enforcement agencies to implement officer wellness and suicide prevention programs, make counseling available to officers, or train supervisors and peers to identify suicide ideation.”

Dr. Greenberg said a further barrier to helping police officers considering self-harm is posed by the fact that even if they do seek out counseling, there is no guarantee that it will remain confidential. 

“Support personnel have an obligation to report an officer who is thinking about committing suicide,” he said. “Many officers are concerned about this lack of confidentiality and that they may be branded if they seek help.”

Although Dr. Greenberg said many police officers are self-professed “action junkies,” even their unusually high capacity for stress is often tested by the realities of the job.  

“Increasing demands for service, shortages of personnel, misinformation about police, COVID-19, talk about restructuring policing with little concrete direction, increased exposure to violence, greater numbers of vulnerable people, and more take a toll over time,” he lamented. “In addition, we are in a recruiting crisis in law enforcement, and there are no standards to ensure the quality of psychological screening provided to applicants. Many officers will go through their entire career and never be screened again. We know little about the stresses and strains that officers bring to the job.”
 

After the siege

It is not clear how many police officers were present at the Capitol on Jan. 6. During the chaos of the day, reinforcements to the Capitol Police Department arrived from Washington D.C., Maryland, and Virginia, but no official numbers on responders were obtained; Mr. Davis thought it was likely that there were at least 1,000 law enforcement officers present. Those who did respond sustained an estimated 100 injuries, including an officer who died the next day. Of the officers who died by suicide, one died 3 days after, another died 9 days later, and two more died in July – numbers that contradict the notion that this is some coincidence. Officer Alexander Kettering, a colleague of Mr. Davis who has been with Montgomery County Police for 15 years, was among those tasked with protecting the Capitol on Jan. 6. The chaos, violence, and destruction of the day has stuck with him and continues to occupy his thoughts.

“I had a front-row seat to the whole thing. It was overwhelming, and I’ve never seen people this angry,” said Mr. Kettering. “There were people up on the veranda and on the scaffolding set up for the inauguration. They were smashing windows and throwing things into the crowd. It was insane. There were decent people coming up to us and saying they would pray for us, then others calling us traitors, telling us to stand down and join them.”

In the aftermath of the Capitol siege, Mr. Kettering watched in dismay as the narrative of the day’s events began to warp.

“At first there was a consensus that what happened was so wrong, and then the politics took over. People were saying it wasn’t as bad as the media said, that it really wasn’t that violent and those speaking out are traitors or political operatives. I relive it every day, and it’s hard to escape, even in casual conversation.”

He added that the days’ events were compounded by the already heightened tensions surrounding the national debate around policing.

“It’s been 18 months of stress, of anti-police movements, and there is a fine line between addressing police brutality and being anti-police,” Mr. Kettering said, noting that the aforementioned issues have all contributed to the ongoing struggles his fellow officers are experiencing. 

“It’s not a thing for cops to talk about how an event affected them,” he said. “A lot of officers have just shut down. People have careers and pensions to protect, and every time we stop a motorist, something could go wrong, even if we do everything right. There are mixed signals: They tell us, ‘Defend but don’t defend.’” 

His colleague, Mr. Davis, said that officers “need more support from politicians,” noting that he felt particularly insulted by a comment made by a Montgomery County public official who accused the officers present at the Capitol of racism. “And finally, we feel a little betrayed by the public.”
 

More questions than answers from the Capitol’s day of chaos

What about the events of Jan. 6 led to the suicides of four law enforcement officers and what can be done to prevent more deaths in the future? There are the individual factors of each man’s personal history, circumstances, and vulnerabilities, including the sense of being personally endangered, witnessing trauma, and direct injury – one officer who died of suicide had sustained a head injury that day.

We don’t know if the officers went into the event with preexisting mental illness or addiction or if the day’s events precipitated psychiatric episodes. And with all the partisan anger surrounding the presidential election, we don’t know if each officer’s political beliefs amplified his distress over what occurred in a social media climate where police are being faulted by all sides.

When multiple suicides occur in a community, there is always concern about a “copycat” phenomena. These concerns are made more difficult to address, however, given the police culture of taboo and stigma associated with getting professional help, difficulty accessing care, and career repercussions for speaking openly about suicidal thoughts and mental health issues.

Finally, there is the current political agenda that leaves officers feeling unsupported, fearful of negative outcomes, and unappreciated. The Capitol siege in particular embodied a great deal of national distress and confusion over basic issues of truth, justice, and perceptions of reality in our polarized society.  

Can we move to a place where those who enforce laws have easy access to treatment, free from stigma? Can we encourage a culture that does not tolerate brutality or racism, while also refusing to label all police as bad and lending support to their mission? Can we be more attuned to the repercussions of circumstances where officers are witnesses to trauma, are endangered themselves, and would benefit from acknowledgment of their distress? 

Time will tell if our anti-police pendulum swings back. In the meantime, these four suicides among people defending our country remain tragically overlooked.
 

Dinah Miller, MD, is coauthor of Committed: The Battle Over Involuntary Psychiatric Care (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016). She has a private practice in Baltimore and is an assistant professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at Johns Hopkins University. A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.