Psychiatry

Prof David Castle
Monographs iconMonographs

This article discusses the sexual side-effects of the various antidepressants and what can be done about this issue.

Dr Linda Calabresi
Clinical Articles iconClinical Articles

Self-harm among teenagers is on the increase, a new study confirms and frighteningly it’s our younger girls that appear most at risk. According to a population-based, UK study the annual incidence of self-harm increased by an incredible 68% between 2011 and 2014 among girls aged 13-16, from 46 per 10000 to 77 per 10000. The research, based on analysis of electronic health records from over 670 general practices, also found that girls were three times more likely to self-harm than boys among the almost 17,000 young people (aged 10-19 years) studied. The importance of identifying these patients and implementing effective interventions was highlighted by the other major finding of this study. “Children and adolescents who harmed themselves were approximately nine times more likely to die unnaturally during follow-up, with especially noticeable increases in risks of suicide…, and fatal acute alcohol and drug poisoning,” the BMJ study authors said. And if you were to think this might be a problem unique to the UK, the researchers, in their article actually referred to an Australian population based cohort study published five years ago that found that 8% of adolescents aged less than 20 years reported harming themselves at some time. The UK study also showed that the likelihood of referral was lowest in areas that were the most deprived, even though these were the areas where the incidence was highest, an example of the ‘inverse care law’ where the people in most need get the least care. While the link between social deprivation and self-harm might be understandable, researchers were at a loss to explain the recent sharp increase in incidence among the young 13-16 year old girls in particular. What they could say is that by analysing general practice data rather than inpatient hospital data, an additional 50% of self-harm episodes in children and adolescents were identified. In short, it is much more likely a self-harming teenager will engage with their GP rather than appear at a hospital service. And even though, as the study authors concede there is little evidence to guide the most effective way to manage these children and adolescents, the need for GPs to identify these patients and intervene early is imperative. “The increased risks of all cause and cause-specific mortality observed emphasise the urgent need for integrated care involving families, schools, and healthcare provision to enhance safety among these distressed young people in the short term, and to help secure their future mental health and wellbeing,” they concluded. BMJ 2017; 359:j4351 doi: 10.1136/bmj.j4351

Dr Danbee Kim
Clinical Articles iconClinical Articles

Lately, some neuroscientists have been struggling with an identity crisis: what do we believe, and what do we want to achieve? Is it enough to study the brain’s machinery, or are we missing its larger design?

Scholars have pondered the mind since Aristotle, and scientists have studied the nervous system since the mid-1800s, but neuroscience as we recognize it today did not coalesce as a distinct study until the early 1960s. In the first ever Annual Review of Neuroscience, the editors recalled that in the years immediately after World War II, scientists felt a “growing appreciation that few things are more important than understanding how the nervous system controls behavior.” This “growing appreciation” brought together researchers scattered across many well-established fields – anatomy, physiology, pharmacology, psychology, medicine, behavior – and united them in the newly coined discipline of neuroscience.

It was clear to those researchers that studying the nervous system needed knowledge and techniques from many other disciplines. The Neuroscience Research Program at MIT, established in 1962, brought together scientists from multiple universities in an attempt to bridge neuroscience with biology, immunology, genetics, molecular biology, chemistry, and physics. The first ever Department of Neurobiology was established at Harvard in 1966 under the direction of six professors: a physician, two neurophysiologists, two neuroanatomists, and a biochemist. The first meeting of the Society for Neuroscience was held the next year, where scientists from diverse fields met to discuss and debate nervous systems and behavior, using any method they thought relevant or optimal.

These pioneers of neuroscience sought to understand the relationship between the nervous system and behavior. But what exactly is behavior? Does the nervous system actually control behavior? And when can we say that we are really “understanding” anything?
Behavioral questions
It may sound pedantic or philosophical to worry about definitions of “behavior,” “control,” and “understanding.” But for a field as young and diverse as neuroscience, dismissing these foundational discussions can cause a great deal of confusion, which in turn can bog down progress for years, if not decades. Unfortunately for today’s neuroscientists, we rarely talk about the assumptions that underlie our research.

“Understanding,” for instance, means different things to different people. For an engineer, to understand something is to be able to build it; for a physicist, to understand something is to be able to create a mathematical model that can predict it. By these definitions, we don’t currently “understand” the brain – and it’s unclear what kind of detective work might solve that mystery.

Many neuroscientists believe that the detective work consists of two main parts: describing in great detail the molecular bits and pieces of the brain, and causing a reliable change in behavior by changing something about those bits and pieces. From this perspective, behavior is an easily observable phenomena – one that can be used as a measurement.

But since the beginning of neuroscience, a vocal and persistent minority has argued that detective work of this kind, no matter how detailed, cannot bring us closer to “understanding” the relationship between the nervous system and behavior. The dominant, granular view of neuroscience contains several problematic assumptions about behavior, the dissenters say, in an argument most recently made earlier this year by John Krakauer, Asif Ghazanfar, Alex Gomez-Marin, Malcolm MacIver, and David Poeppel in a paper called “Neuroscience Needs Behavior: Correcting a Reductionist Bias.”

>> Read more Source: Massive

Prof Louise Newman
Clinical Articles iconClinical Articles

The Australian newspaper recently reported the royal commission investigating institutional child sex abuse was advocating psychologists use “potentially dangerous” therapy techniques to recover repressed memories in clients with history of trauma. The reports suggest researchers and doctors are speaking out against such practices, which risk implanting false memories in the minds of victims. The debate about the nature of early trauma memories and their recovery isn’t new. Since Sigmund Freud developed the idea of “repression” – where people store away memories of stressful childhood events so they don’t interfere with daily life – psychologists and law practitioners have been arguing about the nature of memory and whether it’s possible to create false memories of past situations. Recovery from trauma for some people involves recalling and understanding past events. But repressed memories, where the victim remembers nothing of the abuse, are relatively uncommon and there is little reliable evidence about their frequency in trauma survivors. According to reports from clinical practice and experimental studies of recall, most patients can partially recall events, even if elements of these have been suppressed.

What are repressed memories?

The concept of repressing traumatic memories was part of this model. Repression, as Freud saw it, is a fundamental defensive process where the mind forgets or places events, thoughts and memories we cannot acknowledge or bear elsewhere.Freud introduced the concept that child abuse is a major cause of mental disorders such as hysteria, also known as conversion disorder. People with these disorders could lose bodily functions, such as the ability to move one of their limbs, following a stressful event. Freud also suggested that if these memories weren’t recalled, it could result in physical or mental symptoms. He argued symptoms of a mental disorder can be a return of the repressed memories, or a symbolic way of communicating a traumatic event. An example would be suddenly losing speech ability when someone has a terrible memory of trauma they feel unable to disclose. This idea of hidden traumas and their ability to influence psychological functioning despite not being recalled or available to consciousness has shaped much of our current thinking about symptoms and the need to understand what lies behind them. Those who accept the repression interpretation argue children may repress memories of early abuse for many years and that these can be recalled when it’s safe to do so. This is variously referred to as traumatic amnesia or dissociative amnesia. Proponents accept repressed traumatic memories can be accurate and used in therapy to recover memories and build up an account of early experiences.
Read more: Dissociative identity disorder exists and is the result of childhood trauma

False memory and the memory wars

Freud later withdrew his initial ideas around abuse underlying mental health disorders. He instead drew on his belief of the child’s commonly held sexual fantasies about their parents, which he said could influence formation of memories that did not did not mean actual sexual behaviour had taken place. This may have been Freud caving in to the social pressures of his time. This interpretation lent itself to the false memory hypothesis. Here the argument is that memory can be distorted, sometimes even by therapists. This can influence the experience of recalling memories, resulting in false memories. Those who hold this view oppose therapy approaches based on uncovering memories and believe it’s better to focus on recovery from current symptoms related to trauma. This group point out that emotionally traumatic memory can be more vividly remembered than non-traumatic memories, so it wouldn’t hold these events would be repressed. They remain sceptical about reclaimed memories and even more so about therapies based on recall – such as recovered memory therapy and hypnosis. The 1990s saw the height of these memory wars, as they came to be known, between proponents of repressed memory and those of the false memory hypothesis. The debate was influenced by increasing awareness and research on memory systems in academic psychology and an attitude of scepticism about therapeutic approaches focused on encouraging recall of past trauma. In 1992, the parents of Jennifer Freyd, who had accused her father of sexual assault, founded the False Memory Syndrome Foundation. The parents maintained Jennifer’s accusations were false and encouraged by recovered memory therapy. While the foundation has claimed false memories of abuse are easily created by therapies of dubious validity, there is no good evidence of a “false memory syndrome” that can be reliably defined, or any evidence of how widespread the use of these types of therapies might be.
Read more: We’re capable of infinite memory, but where in the brain is it stored, and what parts help retrieve it?

An unhelpful debate

Both sides do agree that abuse and trauma during critical developmental periods are related to both biological and psychological vulnerability. Early trauma creates physical changes in the brain that predispose the individual to mental disorders in later life. Early trauma has a negative impact on self-esteem and the ability to form trusting relationships. The consequences can be lifelong. A therapist’s role is to help abuse survivors deal with these long-term consequences and gain better control of their emotional life and interpersonal functioning. Some survivors will want to have relief from ongoing symptoms of anxiety, memories of abuse and experiences such as nightmares. Others may express the need for a greater understanding of their experiences and to be free from feelings of self-blame and guilt they may have carried from childhood. Some individuals will benefit from longer psychotherapies dealing with the impact of child abuse on their lives. Most therapists use techniques such as trauma-focused cognitive behavioural therapy, which aren’t aimed exclusively at recovering memories of abuse. The royal commission has heard evidence of the serious impact of being dismissed or not believed when making disclosures of abuse and seeking protection. The therapist should be respectful and guided by the needs of the survivor.
Read more: Why does it take victims of child sex abuse so long to speak up?
Right now, we need to acknowledge child abuse on a large scale and develop approaches for intervention. It may be time to move beyond these memory wars and focus on the impacts of abuse on victims; impacts greater than the direct symptoms of trauma. The ConversationIt’s vital psychotherapy acknowledges the variation in responses to trauma and the profound impact of betrayal in abusive families. Repetition of invalidation and denial should be avoided in academic debate and clinical approaches. Louise Newman, Director of the Centre for Women’s Mental Health at the Royal Women’s Hospital and Professor of Psychiatry, University of Melbourne This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
Dr Linda Calabresi
Clinical Articles iconClinical Articles

It is well-known that when a patient with depression is commenced on antidepressants and they are effective, they should continue them for at least a year to lower their risk of relapse. The guidelines are pretty consistent on that point. But what about anxiety disorders? Along with cognitive behavioural therapy, antidepressants are considered a first-line option for treating anxiety conditions such as generalised anxiety disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder and post-traumatic disorder. Antidepressants have been shown to generally effective and well-tolerated in treating these illnesses. But how long should they be used in order to improve long-term prognosis? Internationally, guidelines vary in their recommendations. If the treatment is effective the advice has been to continue treatment for variable durations (six to 24 months) and then taper the antidepressant, but this has been based on scant evidence. To clarify this recommendation, Dutch researchers conducted a meta-analysis of 28 relapse prevention trials in patients with remitted anxiety disorders. Their findings, recently published in the BMJ, support the continuation of pharmacotherapy. “We have shown a clear benefit of continuing treatment compared with discontinuation for both relapse… and time to relapse”, the authors stated. In addition, the researchers found the relapse risk was not significantly influenced by the type of anxiety disorder, whether the antidepressant was tapered or stopped abruptly or whether the patient was receiving concurrent psychotherapy However, because of the duration of the studies included in the meta-analysis, only the advice to continue antidepressants for at least a year could be supported by evidence. After this, the researchers said there was no evidence-based advice that could be given. “[However] the lack of evidence after this period should not be interpreted as explicit advice to discontinue antidepressants after one year,” they said. The researchers suggested that those guidelines that advise antidepressant should be tapered after the patient has achieved a sustained remission should be revised. In fact, they said, there were both advantages and disadvantages to continuing treatment beyond a year, and more research was needed to help clinicians assess an individual’s risk of relapse. This is especially important as anxiety disorders are generally chronic and there have been indications that in some patients, the antidepressant therapy is less effective when reinstated after a relapse. “When deciding to continue or discontinue antidepressants in individual patients, the relapse risk should be considered in relation to side effects and the patient’s preferences,” they concluded. Ref: BMJ 2017;358:j392 doi:10.1136/bmj:j3927

A/Prof Michael McDowell
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The first national guidelines for diagnosing autism were released for public consultation last week. The report by research group Autism CRC was commissioned and funded by the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) in October 2016. The NDIS has taken over the running of federal government early intervention programs that provide specialist services for families and children with disabilities. In doing so, they have inherited the problem of diagnostic variability. Biological diagnoses are definable. The genetic condition fragile X xyndrome, for instance, which causes intellectual disability and development problems, can be diagnosed using a blood test. Autism diagnosis, by contrast, is imprecise. It’s based on a child’s behaviour and function at a point in time, benchmarked against age expectations and comprising multiple simultaneous components. Complexity and imprecision arise at each stage, implicit to the condition as well as the process. So, it makes sense the NDIS requested an objective approach to autism diagnosis.
Read more: The difficulties doctors face in diagnosing autism
The presumption of the Autism CRC report is that standardising the method of diagnosis will address this problem of diagnostic uncertainty. But rather than striving to secure diagnostic precision in the complexity and imprecision of the real world, a more salient question is how best to help children when diagnostic uncertainty is unavoidable.

What’s in the report?

The report recommends a two-tiered diagnostic strategy. The first tier is used when a child’s development and behaviour clearly meet the diagnostic criteria. The process proposed does not differ markedly from current recommended practice, with one important exception. Currently, the only professionals who can “sign off” on a diagnosis of autism are certain medical specialists such as paediatricians, child and adolescent psychiatrists, and neurologists. The range of accepted diagnosticians has now been expanded to include allied health professionals such as psychologists, speech pathologists and occupational therapists. This exposes the program to several risks. Rates of diagnosed children may further increase with greater numbers of diagnosticians. Conflict of interest may occur if diagnosticians potentially receive later benefit as providers of funded treatment interventions. And while psychologists and other therapists may have expertise in autism, they may not necessarily recognise the important conditions that can present similarly to it, as well as other problems the child may have alongside autism. The second recommended tier of diagnosis is for complex situations, when it is not clear a child meets one or more diagnostic criteria. In this case, the report recommends assessment and agreement by a set of professionals – known as a multidisciplinary assessment. This poses important challenges:
  • Early intervention starts early. Multidisciplinary often means late, with delays on waiting lists for limited services. This is likely to worsen if more children require this type of assessment.
  • Multidisciplinary assessments are expensive. If health systems pay, capacity to subsequently help children in the health sector will be correspondingly reduced.
  • Groups of private providers may set up diagnostic one-stop shops. This may inadvertently discriminate against those who can’t pay and potentially bias towards diagnosis for those who can.
  • Multidisciplinary assessments discriminate against those in regional and rural areas, where professionals are not readily available. Telehealth (consultation over the phone or computer) is a poor substitute for direct observation and interaction. Those in rural and regional areas are already disadvantaged by limited access to intervention services, so diagnostic delays present an additional obstacle.
A diagnostic approach reflects a deeper, more fundamental problem. Methodological rigour is necessary for academic research validity, with the assumption autism has distinct and definable boundaries. But consider two children almost identical in need. One just gets over the diagnostic threshold, the other not. This may be acceptable for academic studies, but it’s not acceptable in community practice. An arbitrary diagnostic boundary does not address complexities of need.

We’re asking the wrong question

The federal government’s first initiative to fund early intervention services for children diagnosed with autism was introduced in 2008. The Helping Children With Autism program provided A$12,000 for each diagnosed child, along with limited services through Medicare. The Better Start program was introduced later in 2011. Under Better Start, intervention programs also became available for children diagnosed with cerebral palsy, Down syndrome, fragile X syndrome and hearing and vision impairments. While this broadened the range of disabilities to be funded, it did not address the core problem of discrimination by diagnosis. This is where children who have equal needs but who for various reasons aren’t officially diagnosed are excluded from support services. Something is better than nothing, however, and these programs have helped about 60,000 children at a cost of over A$400 million. Yet the NDIS now also faces a philosophical challenge. The NDIS considers funding based on a person’s ability to function and participate in life and society, regardless of diagnosis. By contrast, entry to both these early intervention programs is determined by diagnosis, irrespective of functional limitation.
Read more: Understanding the NDIS: will parents of newly diagnosed children with disability be left in the dark?
While funding incentives cannot change prevalence of fragile X syndrome in our community (because of its biological certainty), rates of autism diagnoses have more than doubled since the Helping Children with Autism program began in 2008. Autism has become a default consideration for any child who struggles socially, behaviourally, or with sensory stimuli. Clinicians have developed alternative ways of thinking about this “grey zone” problem. One strategy is to provide support in proportion to functional need, in line with the NDIS philosophy. Another strategy is to undertake response-to-intervention. This is well developed in education, where support is provided early and uncertainty is accepted. By observing a child’s pattern and rate of response over time, more information emerges about the nature of the child’s ongoing needs. The proposed assessment strategy in the Autism CRC report addresses the question, “does this child meet criteria for autism?”. This is not the same as “what is going on for this child, and how do we best help them?”. And those are arguably the more important questions for our children.
The ConversationThis article was co-authored by Dr Jane Lesslie, a specialist developmental paediatrician. Until recently she was vice president of the Neurodevelopmental and Behavioural Paediatric Society of Australasia. Michael McDowell, Associate Professor, The University of Queensland This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
Prof Malcolm Hopwood
Monographs iconMonographs

This article discusses the frequently unrecognised impacts on a patient’s health of a diagnosis of major depressive disorder.