Ethical & Legal Considerations in Using ChatGPT as an Aid for Clinical Diagnosis

As psychologists, our mission often treads a tightrope of diagnostic precision and ethical consideration. The emergence of artificial intelligence (AI), particularly language models like ChatGPT, introduces an exciting yet complex layer to this balancing act. Such innovations have been lauded for their diagnostic acumen but also raise questions about legal implications and ethical stewardship. For this reason, I think it is important to explore the current state of AI applications in behavioral health, focusing on ChatGPT’s diagnostic capabilities as an aid to rendering a clinical diagnosis. In doing so, I hope to engage you in a thoughtful discourse about the ethical and legal dimensions of embracing AI in psychological practice.

Recent Literature on ChatGPT and Diagnostic Accuracy

A foundational study led by Mass General Brigham revealed that ChatGPT displayed a diagnostic accuracy of 72% across multiple medical specialties, even likening its performance to that of recent medical school graduates. Similarly, researchers at Queen Mary Hospital’s Division of Geriatrics investigated the efficacy of Generative Pre-trained Transformer 4 (GPT-4) in diagnosing older patients, citing an accuracy of 66.7% for primary diagnoses. These findings signify the AI’s prowess but also underscore the necessity for additional benchmarking and regulatory oversight.

In the context of behavioral health, Hilty and colleagues employed natural language processing to quantify linguistic features associated with mental and neurocognitive disorders. They advocated for using large datasets to enhance diagnostic objectivity, a mission that aligns well with the capabilities of ChatGPT. Salih Tutun and their colleagues discussed ethical frameworks that must be established to guide AI’s role in mental health, emphasizing the need for innovative yet ethically responsible diagnostic tools developed in line with guidelines for integrating ethical approaches to designing AI.

A Foray into ChatGPT’s Diagnostic Utility in Behavioral Health

To demonstrate AI’s capacity to enrich clinical thinking, I asked ChatGPT-4 to generate potential Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) diagnoses based on a specific behavior pattern. The result is offered below.

Prompt #1: What are possible DSM diagnoses for someone who is easily wounded, drinks alcohol to the point of being unable to show up for work, gets angry quickly, has poor boundaries, is marginally employed, is in debt, and is unsuccessful in romantic relationships?

The 1st ChatGPT Response

The following response (in italics) was obtained verbatim. As you read the response, consider whether it would be helpful, legal, and ethical for you to be able to enter a behavioral prompt (question posed to ChatGPT) to get this type of response:

It appears that the individual in question may be exhibiting several symptoms that could potentially align with various Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) diagnoses. It’s important to note that making an accurate diagnosis requires a comprehensive assessment by a qualified mental health professional. However, based on the information provided, several potential DSM diagnoses could be considered:

Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED). Intermittent Explosive Disorder involves recurrent outbursts of anger that are disproportionate to the situation and often result in aggressive behavior or destruction of property. Individuals with IED struggle to control their anger impulses, and this may negatively impact their relationships and work life.

Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). BPD is characterized by emotional dysregulation, unstable relationships, poor self-image, and impulsive behaviors. Individuals with BPD may experience intense anger and have difficulty managing their emotions. Poor boundaries and struggles in romantic relationships align with BPD features.

Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD). Excessive alcohol consumption, to the point of impairing daily functioning and causing absence from work, could indicate an Alcohol Use Disorder. This diagnosis would be based on criteria such as loss of control over drinking, unsuccessful attempts to cut down, and continued use despite negative consequences.

Depressive Disorder. The individual’s difficulty in managing anger, poor boundaries, and struggles in relationships could be associated with a Depressive Disorder. Depression can manifest as irritability and impaired social functioning, impacting both work and personal life.

Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). Poor boundaries, being easily wounded, and difficulties in relationships might also be indicative of Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Chronic worry, heightened sensitivity to criticism, and interpersonal difficulties can be features of GAD.

Unspecified Personality Disorder. The individual’s challenges in maintaining boundaries, unstable relationships, and difficulties in employment could suggest the presence of a personality disorder that does not neatly fit within one specific category.

It’s crucial to emphasize that these are preliminary considerations and not a substitute for professional evaluation. A comprehensive assessment by a licensed mental health practitioner is essential for accurate diagnosis and appropriate treatment. The provided descriptions should not replace personalized clinical advice, and any diagnostic conclusions should be made by a qualified professional after a thorough evaluation.

Prompt #2: Which characteristics would need to be evaluated to make a differential diagnosis between the above possible diagnoses?

The 2nd ChatGPT Response
To differentiate between the potential diagnoses mentioned earlier (Intermittent Explosive Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Alcohol Use Disorder, Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and Unspecified Personality Disorder), a thorough assessment of various characteristics and factors is essential. It’s important to consider a combination of clinical interviews, self-report assessments, collateral information from family or close contacts, and possibly psychological testing. Here are some key characteristics that need to be evaluated to make a more accurate differential diagnosis:

Frequency and Intensity of Anger Episodes. For Intermittent Explosive Disorder, the frequency, intensity, and context of anger outbursts need to be evaluated. Determining whether the anger reactions are disproportionate and recurrent is crucial.

Emotional Instability and Impulsivity. Borderline Personality Disorder is characterized by emotional instability, impulsive behaviors, and unstable relationships. Assessing the pattern of emotional shifts, impulsive actions, and unstable sense of self is important. Alcohol Consumption Patterns. For Alcohol Use Disorder, an assessment of the individual’s alcohol consumption patterns, including frequency, quantity, and impact on functioning, is necessary. Evaluation of withdrawal symptoms, unsuccessful attempts to quit, and continued use despite negative consequences is important.

Presence of Depressive Symptoms. Depressive Disorder involves a range of symptoms beyond irritability, such as low mood, changes in appetite, sleep disturbances, and feelings of worthlessness. A thorough assessment of depressive symptoms is needed to consider this diagnosis.

Excessive Worry and Anxiety. In Generalized Anxiety Disorder, persistent and excessive worry about a variety of topics is a hallmark. Evaluating the extent of worry, physical symptoms of anxiety, and impact on daily life is crucial.

Impaired Interpersonal Functioning and Boundaries. Assessing the individual’s ability to establish and maintain healthy boundaries, as well as the quality of their relationships, can help differentiate between various disorders. An examination of interpersonal dynamics is particularly relevant for personality disorders.

Duration and Chronicity. Evaluating the duration and chronicity of symptoms is important. Some disorders, like personality disorders, involve longstanding patterns of behavior, while others might have more episodic presentations.

Family and Developmental History. Gathering information about the individual’s developmental history, family dynamics, early life experiences, and any history of trauma or adverse events can provide insights into potential underlying factors.

Response to Treatment. Observing how the individual responds to interventions, therapy, or medication can help in refining the diagnosis over time. Different disorders may respond differently to specific treatments.

Rule Out Medical and Substance-Related Factors. It’s important to acknowledge that medical and physical factors can indeed contribute to or mimic psychological symptoms. When evaluating an individual with behavioral and emotional concerns, considering potential medical conditions is a crucial aspect of a comprehensive assessment.

Need for Medical Evaluation. Given the individual’s symptoms, it’s advisable to conduct a thorough medical evaluation to rule out any underlying medical conditions that could be contributing to the symptoms. Medical conditions such as hormonal imbalances, thyroid issues, neurological disorders, or even medication side effects can impact mood and behavior.

In a comprehensive assessment, both psychological and medical factors should be taken into account. If an individual is experiencing significant psychological distress, it’s recommended to consult both a mental health professional and a medical doctor to ensure a comprehensive understanding of the situation and to consider all potential contributing factors. Remember that an accurate diagnosis often requires a multidimensional approach, and it’s not uncommon for individuals to have overlapping symptoms or co-occurring disorders. A licensed mental health professional with experience in assessment and diagnosis should guide the process, integrating various sources of information to arrive at the most appropriate diagnosis.

Ethical and Legal Caveats in Using ChatGPT

This demonstration is but one of many examples where ChatGPT can be used to broaden the clinician’s thinking about possible diagnoses to consider, as well as different avenues to explore to gather additional relevant information.

Despite its promise, ChatGPT is not without challenges. The AI model can inadvertently exhibit social prejudice and toxicity, thereby warranting rigorous oversight from clinicians. Furthermore, the legal ambiguities surrounding liability remain unresolved, especially when ChatGPT diagnoses are used as standalone evaluations. Multicultural and diversity issues, and protected health information were intentionally excluded from this demonstration.

ChatGPT and similar AI models serve best as adjuncts rather than replacements for human expertise. The current state of these tools does not support their verbatim use in clinical settings. If you’re contemplating the incorporation of ChatGPT into your practice, seek advice from your malpractice carrier’s attorney, your state or national psychological association’s legal office, or the APA Division 5, the Division of Psychometrics and Quantitative Psychology. If these groups don’t offer anything yet, get involved and start something as part of their group. Depending on your circumstance, independent legal counsel may also be advisable.

Telehealth.org also offers Continuing Medical Education (CME) and Continuing Education (CE) courses to guide you in this evolving terrain. Ensuring responsible utilization of ChatGPT in psychological diagnostics requires a confluence of caution, human judgment, and robust regulatory frameworks. As we step into the future of AI-augmented healthcare, let us tread with both anticipation and due diligence.

Disclaimer: This article is written for educational purposes only and should not be construed as legal or clinical advice. The information contained in this article was sourced from a telehealth.org blogpost titled, ChatGPT Diagnosis: Walking the Tightrope of Legality and Ethics found here and is re-printed with the author’s permission.

Using A Holistic Approach to Therapy with Clients Experiencing Chronic Illness, Disability, and Mental Health Challenges

Prevalence of Chronic Illness/Disability in the United States

The presumption that “typical” abilities and wellness encompass the norm is a viewpoint that pervades United States policies, infrastructures, and societal expectations. The reality is that the majority of the US population grapples with chronic illnesses and disabilities, challenging the conventional definition of “normalcy.” While many associate illness with isolated incidents, dramatic and prolonged interruptions in otherwise regular lives — along with the prevalence of chronic conditions — indicates that illness is, in fact, more typical of the human experience than not.

According to data from the Centers for Disease Control and the Rand Corporation, over half of Americans (51.8%) contend with at least one chronic condition, whether physical or mental. Some estimates are that 42% of the population faces multiple chronic conditions. By comparison, according to the European Council of the EU, one in four, or 25% of European adults live with a chronic illness/disability. These statistics not only reveal the widespread impact of chronic illness but also emphasize the need to shift cultural perspectives surrounding health and ability. To be absolutely clear, in the United States, chronic conditions are the norm, not the exception. In his recent book “The Myth of the Normal,” Gabor Maté challenges prevailing notions of normalcy and underscores the ubiquity of trauma and illness within the diversity of human experiences. Exploring biopsychosocial aspects of chronic illness and disability, Maté exposes fundamentally unhealthy cultural constructs that shape our understanding of what it means to be “normal.” Moreover, in response to an unhealthy environment, Maté asserts that illness is a valid response. His work resonates deeply with my practice, as it highlights the importance of acknowledging the sequelae of trauma in the vast spectrum of human existence.  

As a Clinical Rehabilitation Counselor, my training encompasses both the medical and psychosocial aspects of chronic illness and disability. Moreover, my own personal journey as a cancer survivor and someone diagnosed with Crohn's disease enables me to meet clients from a perspective of lived experience. This experience underscores the importance I place on applying a comprehensive holistic approach to mental health in the context of chronic conditions many of my clients experience. My work in a small group practice specializing in supporting clients with trauma, chronic illness, and disability is a testament to the prevalence of such experiences.

Within my caseload, 95% of clients navigate the challenges of multiple chronic physical and mental conditions, often relying on state-subsidized insurance for healthcare. Among these individuals, approximately 60% identify as female, 25% as gender fluid or transgender, and 15% as male. Their narratives underscore the multifaceted nature of dependence and autonomy across various dimensions of life. From physical and financial to emotional and sexual realms, the complexities of living with chronic conditions influence every aspect of their existence.

For individuals grappling with chronic illness, the connection between past trauma and present health challenges cannot be overlooked. More often than not, these clients report elevated Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) scores, revealing a complex interplay between past trauma and present health challenges. My integrative approach encompassing trauma-informed care, empathy, empowerment, and holistic healing includes attention to my client’s experience of their body. Attention to physical sensations including interoception and proprioception, breath, movement, and reflex patterns, allows me to guide them towards a path of resilience, self-acceptance, and well-being. Recognizing the intricate threads that weave together past experiences, present struggles, and future aspirations creates a space where my clients feel heard and equipped to navigate the complexities of their health journey with resilience and clarity. 

Relationships and Chronic Illness/Disability

One of the prevailing challenges faced by individuals with whom I work who have chronic illness and disability shows up in power dynamics within close relationships. Dependence on a partner for various types of support including financial and logistical, coupled with chronic pain and the struggle to balance gratitude and self-worth, can erode an individual's sense of agency. For those grappling with conditions such as Crohn's disease, fibromyalgia, multiple sclerosis, or rheumatoid arthritis, the unpredictability of their conditions makes planning for the future a daunting task. As a result, vacations, celebrations, and even daily routines are frequently disrupted. The demands of work often deplete their energy, leaving their partners to shoulder the responsibilities of managing a household and caring for children. The strain on intimacy and sexual relationships adds another layer of complexity.  

Partners of those with chronic illness and disability experience their own set of challenges, leading to feelings of frustration and helplessness. Their desire to provide support can transform into a sense of powerlessness as they navigate the complexities of medical interventions, lifestyle changes, and emotional well-being. The dynamic between partners can quickly shift from a place of caring support to caregiver exhaustion and burnout, a source of resentment that creates a cycle of mutual dissatisfaction.

In my therapeutic practice, it is not uncommon for clients to request involving their partners in sessions. Drawing from my unique perspective as someone who navigates a chronic illness while also being a partner to someone with health challenges, I provide insight that resonates with their experiences. This shared understanding fosters open dialogues that explore the intricacies of relationships within the context of chronic conditions.

One poignant example underscores the profound impact of childhood experiences on an individual's journey. A client shared a harrowing memory of their father monitoring their food intake during meals — threatening punishment if they exceeded a prescribed number of bites. This history of food-related trauma has woven itself into their present struggles with Small Intestinal Bacterial Overgrowth (SIBO), a condition marked by pain, diarrhea, gas, and bloating due to bacterial overgrowth in the small intestine. While the impulse to connect trauma to illness is compelling, the client's journey also involves a series of infections necessitating antibiotic treatment over time.

This client’s partner, in their well-intentioned efforts to support, inadvertently triggers their traumatic memories when attempting to manage the client’s food choices. The need for a restrictive diet as part of SIBO treatment further compounds their emotional turmoil, fostering feelings of deprivation and punishment as they strive to heal. Addressing this intricate interplay of trauma and health within the therapeutic space requires a delicate balance.

In a joint session involving both the client and their partner, I employed empathetic communication to navigate their complex dynamic. While acknowledging the partner’s genuine desire to provide assistance, I simultaneously asserted the client’s agency and authority over their own body and treatment. Employing the metaphor of the client as the “captain of their ship,” I emphasized that their body is their vessel, and they remain firmly in control. This approach is of paramount importance, particularly for individuals who already feel a sense of bodily discord and lack of control.

Additionally, it is helpful to recognize the partner’s role in the client’s healing journey. Acknowledging the partner’s commitment to honoring the client’s autonomy becomes an act of spiritual significance, aligning with their broader values. This dual recognition — empowering the client’s autonomy while honoring the partner’s supportive stance — fosters a therapeutic environment that not only addresses the physical aspects of chronic illness but also attends to the emotional, psychological, and relational dimensions.

In another case, my client grappled with chronic Lyme Disease within a relationship plagued with communication challenges, describing their partner as “unresponsive.” When they came for a family session whose purpose was to help them talk about the ramifications of her disease, I realized her partner was very likely on the spectrum. Though not his counselor, I was able to introduce both of them to this possibility, explain how this might be contributing to their difficulties, and help him connect with a counselor of his own.

Finances, Work, and Future Self in Chronic illness/Disability

For those clients navigating a chronic condition on their own, their lives are often precariously situated on what feels like the brink of financial ruin and collapse. With chronic pain or with an unpredictable condition exacerbated by stress, work is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it may confer some security, sense of accomplishment, and self worth. On the other hand, it may aggravate certain illnesses by contributing to stress and may prevent people from qualifying for federal or state aid.

Most of my clients with chronic illness have applied for disability and are on their second or third appeals. They hang in a limbo where making money can compromise what little chance they have. Barring paralysis or a progressive condition, their chances of receiving disability are slim to none. These clients often seek work they can do from home. They are unwilling to take on student loans because of the precarity of their health. Some earn a living from piecemealing several jobs.

Whenever possible, I try to coordinate care with vocational rehabilitation (VR) services offered by the state which helps people find and obtain work suitable to their strengths and limitations.  

In one case of a client with chronic depression and difficulties which led to him losing his job, I advocated for him to receive a neuropsychological evaluation. Both the client and I felt he was on the spectrum. This enabled him to receive help from VR for job placement and support. By helping him find work that made use of his strengths while limiting his interactions with people, his depression improved along with his self-esteem. Whether living with a chronic physical or mental condition, it is important to remember everyone has strengths as well as limitations.  

Moreover, chronic illness, disability, chronic pain, and trauma can profoundly alter one’s sense of self. As mentioned earlier, the challenges posed by unpredictable and intermittent conditions make it challenging for individuals to plan for their future. This absence of foresight can have far-reaching consequences, undermining clients’ ability to envision a future version of themselves — a capacity often taken for granted. This lack of future-oriented thinking leaves clients susceptible to a multitude of setbacks, affecting their physical, mental, reproductive, financial, and educational well-being.

The ability to manage finances is a skill, yet those who lack both financial resources and a sense of their future self tend to make choices that perpetuate their financial struggles, leading to increased poverty. I’ve come to understand that these clients find it difficult to delay immediate rewards for a future date. Without a clear vision of their existence in the next 5-10 years, they prioritize immediate gains, which is understandable.

A client who was in the foster care system and spent a period of time houseless in their teens worked in the food service industry. Though experienced, their lack of formal education meant they often worked under managers with a degree but less actual experience than they had. Frustration with poor management led to frequent job dissatisfaction. Chronic but unpredictable illness limited their ability to work more than 25 hours per week. This kept them stuck in tip-dependent but ultimately unsatisfying work. Their dissatisfaction influenced their feelings about work in general.

During a period of unemployment, I encouraged them to explore alternative options. It became clear that they had only the barest sense of how much money they actually needed to cover expenses. A critical therapeutic intervention involved helping them create a budget in order to more accurately assess the benefits of a job that offered no tips, but more hourly pay. Even at 25 hours/week, they stood to cover their costs better than with sporadic food service work.  

To arouse clients’ sense of possibility, I lean on existential humanistic and Buddhist psychological teachings. None of us knows when we are going to die. People with long-standing conditions, both physical and psychological, live long and productive lives. To come to terms with having a finite amount of time with no sense of how much time is left is an essential human challenge. My clients experience grief over unlived possibilities. These feelings must be acknowledged and included. One client whose career was interrupted by an ependymoma (a spinal tumor that recurred twice) has grappled not only with ensuing disability from the spinal tumor, but ways she never took her career seriously even before the onset of the disease. Often disease itself becomes a catalyst for deeper exploration and participation.

Wellness Culture, Community, and Chronic Illness/Disability

Our culture’s pervasive and inescapable preoccupation with fitness, appearance, and social status is another hurdle facing people with chronic illness or disability. Research has demonstrated the undeniable mental and physical benefits of engaging in exercise and community. But for those who struggle with chronic illness and disability, these arenas are often outside their reach. These clients find themselves frequently isolated by the exigencies of their illness.

Socializing requires energy, and in the face of household or work demands, friendships fall by the wayside. The COVID pandemic resulted in yet another barrier for people with chronic illness and disability who are at risk of more serious infections. For those with mobility issues, opportunities to exercise are limited. One client with Cerebral Palsy receives only 6-10 sessions of physical therapy per calendar year.

Part of providing holistic therapy is helping clients discover ways to include movement and connection in their daily routines. As an example I work with severa,l clients affected by Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (EDS). EDS is a genetic condition that affects collagen, our body’s connective tissue. It ranges from mild involvement that creates hypermobility in the joints, requiring avoidance of extreme movement practices, to so severe it can cause heart and other organ failures.  

I frequently incorporate QiGong movement exercises in sessions, or I provide clients with short videos to follow. QiGong, a 4,000-years-old mindfulness based movement practice used throughout Asia for health maintenance, healing, and longevity, has been shown to mitigate pain, lower cortisol levels, and improve self-efficacy perceptions. The movements are gentle enough to not strain the body, yet require focused attention. They can be performed standing, seated, or supine. 

For those clients who are housebound much of the time, the need for community is often met by online connections. One client maintains an active online presence and connects through advocacy and providing education about their condition. For a trans teen client attending online school however, face-to-face interactions with peers is missing and contributes to their feeling alone. Like many people his age, he’s reluctant to learn to drive, and though he has applied for many kinds of work, he’s not been able to find employment due to his age. These circumstances compound his isolation. Group therapy has sporadically met those needs, but isolation remains a significant issue for those with chronic illness.


***

In my personal and clinical experience, addressing the mental health needs of individuals with chronic illness and disability requires a holistic and empathetic approach. As a therapist, I have found it essential to challenge prevailing cultural norms, advocate for the acceptance of diverse abilities, and provide a safe space where clients can explore their unique journeys.

At the outset, chronic illness and trauma can feel like burdensome lead, weighing down the spirit and clouding our sense of self. The challenges posed by these experiences may appear insurmountable, the darkness can be overwhelming. Yet, it’s in the crucible of adversity that a profound alchemical process unfolds.

In essence, the alchemical journey of turning lead into gold mirrors the transformative power of the human spirit when faced with chronic illness and trauma. It reminds us that within the depths of our struggles lies the potential for profound growth, healing, and the emergence of our most radiant and precious selves. By fostering open conversations, cultivating self-advocacy, and nurturing supportive relationships, I, and hopefully fellow clinicians reading this, can empower their clients to embrace their identities and navigate the complexities of life with resilience and grace.   

The Challenges and Rewards of Therapeutic Work with Brain-Injured Clients

Over the course of my career, I have worked with many people who sustained brain injuries. In the 1980s, I worked in a brain injury rehab program set in a nursing home, then in private practice during the 1990s. For many years since, I have been an employed psychotherapist in nursing homes.

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In my experience, those who have acquired a head injury typically display irritability and quick flashes of verbal anger — aspects of “organic personality change.” The individual may be more impulsive, acting prior to thinking about likely consequences, might show less awareness of social boundaries, and have problems with short term memory. Sharing some of their stories will offer you a glimpse into some of the challenges and opportunities I’ve experienced in working with these clients.

Case Illustrations of Clinical Work with Brain-Injured Clients

Douglas

One of the clients I met while working at an in-patient brain injury rehab program was Douglas, who was in his early twenties, and was injured riding his motorcycle while intoxicated. Anger management was a focus of therapy; he often expressed anger over being injured, and at his father for bringing him to the rehab program. One additional task of therapy was to assist him in formulating a new sense of personal identity — as he was not who he had been, and not yet who he was becoming, but was feeling lost and overwhelmed somewhere in the middle. Another goal was to strengthen his motivation to maintain sobriety in the future.

During a psychotherapy session one day he unexpectedly said, “Getting a brain injury was probably the best thing that could have happened to me.”

“Tell me why you say that, Douglas,” I asked.

“Because otherwise I don’t think there was any way I could have stopped drinking.” But that attitude and outcome are not achieved by all people.

Brandt

During the time I was working in private practice, I also provided psychotherapy and consultation with a statewide head injury program in Massachusetts. That was where I met Brandt, who had an alcohol use disorder, and, over time, had acquired three different brain injuries because he was not able to stop drinking.

Brandt had his first head injury on a construction job site when he was under the influence of alcohol. To others in his life, Brandt appeared to have a friendly and outgoing personality. Yet the overly friendly, and often tactless and joking manner he displayed represented “changes of personality” associated with frontal lobe executive dyscontrol due to his first brain injury — when a piece of work equipment struck him in the forehead.

Because of his frontal lobe dysfunctions, Brandt found it difficult to anticipate or perceive likely consequences of his actions, and he might brush off or disregard cautions and advice offered to him by me or others in his life.

His second injury occurred when he had been drinking one night with friends. They ran out of beer, and Brandt jumped into his Volkswagen Beetle and sped off to buy more. He drove too fast around a curve in the road, the car rolled over and he was ejected from the car. He landed unconscious on the ground in the dark.

Brandt awakened and lifted his head, and immediately in front of his face was a gravestone. He had landed in a graveyard! How could there have been a more pointed and dramatic message about where his drinking would lead him? Nonetheless, he continued drinking until he had a third brain injury that resulted in significant disability, and he was moved into a group home for daily care.

Mrs. Kelly

During the period when I worked in private practice and was offering head-injury-related consultations, I went to Chicago for a co-presentation at a brain injury conference. I spoke about brain injury from a professional point of view, and the co-presenter, Mrs. Kelly, talked about the personal experience of living with a brain injury. Driving home one day, Mrs. Kelly had been struck and injured by a drunk driver.

During our presentation, Mrs. Kelly spoke of the life losses and challenges that had resulted from her injury including relearning to walk, talk, conduct daily tasks, the gains that resulted from her rehab, and from the continuing support of her husband, who had accompanied her to Chicago who was always in her company.

I spoke of the common goals and aims of brain injury rehab, and about the work of individual therapy, group therapy, and family or marital therapy following a brain injury. During our talk, we also shared a particularly poignant background to our shared experiences, because Mrs. Kelly had earlier been one of my teachers in high school. Using her characteristic humor, Mrs. Kelly once said to me, “I used to get mad that I keep forgetting things; but then I realized, why get mad, in a few minutes I’ll forget what I was mad about.”

Rose

My mother-in-law, Rose, became ill with dementia and spent the last months of her life in a nursing home close to where we live. She and I sat in a small dining room during a visit one day a few years ago. A nurse’s aide across the room spoke irritably to a female resident in a wheelchair.

Rose watched, and when the aide left the room, she shook her head and said, “I hate it when they talk that way. She spoke to her like she was a has-been. She’s not a has-been, she’s a have-been.”

“That’s such a wise and beautiful thing to say, Rose,” I remarked.

Ronald

Around that time, I had long been working as an employed psychotherapist in nursing homes, and I was then seeing Ronald for psychotherapy in a different nursing home from where Rose resided. Ronald had been a scientist working at a prominent institute in California, and he drove a red convertible sports car — but sometimes too fast, and he sustained a brain injury in a collision.

What remaining family he had was in the Boston area, and so he found himself at a nursing home outside of Boston. Ronald was depressed and angry. He mostly stayed in his room, reading and listening to classical music. He would make derogatory comments about the other residents and the staff.

I told Ronald the story of the wise comment by my mother-in-law, and I challenged him to conduct a scientific experiment over the coming week: to go about the unit and research who the other residents have been in their lives.

The next week as I walked onto the unit, Ronald approached me holding a small notepad. Referring to notes he’d written, and pointing to different residents, he excitedly recounted things he had learned about them.   

***
 

Conducting psychotherapy with brain-injured clients has typically involved some modifications to my typical approach. It has been important for me to remain alert to the psychological consequences of organic brain dysfunction. My approach with these particular clients has been more educational and directive as opposed to my typical non-directive one; teaching about the effects of the injury and providing behavioral guidance and specific suggestions for social functioning. The information I provide in treatment is more concrete, and offered in smaller bits, with frequent repetitions to aid retention and recall.

I have found it to be enormously gratifying to work with these clients and encourage my colleagues to welcome rather than avoid these opportunities. It allowed me the chance to work with clinicians who taught me to appreciate the psychiatric effects of medical conditions. The work also allowed me opportunities to make a positive difference in the lives of persons who had been severely injured, and in the lives of some family members who had been devastated by the injury to their loved one. 

An Early Career Lesson in Boundary Setting Helps the Client and Therapist Grow

As is true in the lives of clinicians outside of the office, asserting and maintaining clear professional boundaries is essential clinically, ethically, and personally. I have found it not only helpful, but often critical to help my clients gain awareness of the limits in our professional relationship, not only for their safety but for my own. As to be expected, my clients have tested these boundaries, sometimes in minor and other times significant ways. Regardless of the size of these crossings, I have always found their navigation challenging. If their behavior inside of the therapy room is in some way a reflection of similar behavior outside of those walls, then I would like to think that by setting boundaries, I have been helpful in their personal relationships. I’d like to share an instructive experience I had several years ago.

An Early Career Therapeutic Experience with Boundaries

In my early therapeutic work, a client sought help for anxiety and self-esteem issues. Throughout her life, the client had felt misunderstood by parents and peers, leading to a powerful desire to be heard, coupled with a deep need to feel understood. In sessions with me, she often attempted to dominate and control the work, deflected from that work, and resisted my therapeutic efforts and techniques. Having attended for several months, she often interrupted me, changed the direction of counselling, challenged suggestions, resisted recommended coping strategies, and all the while — and quite ironically — pushed for more session time and dropped “doorknob disclosures” at the end of sessions. I often left those sessions feeling frustrated, powerless, and occasionally angry with her. I quickly recognised her need to address these boundary challenges for the sake of her growth, and my own therapeutic — and perhaps personal — peace of mind. The week after a particularly frustrating session in which the client was extremely resistant, I broached the subject of boundaries. I enquired what boundaries meant to her, but the subject was quickly and quite handily deflected and changed. Firm and focused, I resisted the redirection. “Let’s circle back to my question,” I encouraged, keeping my body language open, my expression warm and my eye contact fixed. The client did not respond. Maintaining eye contact, I held space for the silence in the room, allowing a few moments to pass. It was an uneasy silence, like a standoff of sorts. I carefully monitored her emotional response to the intervention. Smiling, I broke the silence. “It appears you couldn’t answer my question, and that’s ok. Perhaps you aren’t ready to answer right now. We can come back to that when you are ready. However, I would really like to share my thoughts on boundaries with you. Could we stay with that for a moment?” I invited. Due to the direct nature of my statement, the client looked at me curiously. “Yes, ok,” she replied, slightly irritated.

A Therapeutic Door Open Once Boundaries are Asserted

Following some psychoeducation around boundaries, I gently shared my thoughts and observations, applying curiosity and compassion to her behaviours that I noticed in our sessions, addressing the boundary violations which had presented over the past few months. I discussed the ethics of counselling and the importance of boundaries, expressing genuine empathy. This intervention opened the door of awareness for the client to explore her own boundaries, and after some discussion, she acknowledged their looseness in certain areas of her life and that pushing boundaries with others helped maintain a level of control at a time when she did not feel in control of her emotions and thoughts. Keeping focus, we talked through the rationale behind boundaries, highlighting how doing so created a safe space for exploration and growth. I offered, “fostering strong healthy boundaries within our therapeutic relationship will help you harness boundaries in your personal life and move you closer to your goals.” Concluding the pivotal discussion, we defined and discussed the therapeutic framework, ensuring the shared understanding that boundaries were necessary for a productive therapeutic relationship, and laid the foundation for a revised framework we would adhere to as we re-contracted with each other. My client seemed to appreciate my assertiveness, and the renewed structure of our work together. From that point, our sessions flowed with more focus and structure, and she demonstrated a will to apply the techniques both in and outside of the therapy room. Whenever she subsequently attempted to push boundaries in session, I quickly re-focused on that earlier breakthrough session. She was even able to discuss instances from outside of therapy where she was able to assert and maintain healthy boundaries. As boundaries became more consistent in her life, her self-esteem improved, and her self-confidence expanded. Growth, resilience and self-discovery followed. By holding firm to my boundaries, I demonstrated professionalism while modelling self-respect and honouring my client’s process. Doing so allowed her to gradually understand the significance of these boundaries and the transformative potential she held. In retrospect, I believe we identified the underlying motivations behind her actions, holding space for fear of vulnerability, and the emotional injury underneath the need for control. This exploration fostered healing, self-awareness, and empowered my client to take ownership of her behaviour, laying the foundation for personal transformation. Our work flourished, and in the process, I gained confidence in setting boundaries with future clients. I’m not saying that clients no longer test me, but I am thankful for that and similar early-career opportunities to assert and hold fast to boundaries.

Mary Jo Barrett on the Collaborative Treatment of Incest and Complex Developmental Trauma

Lawrence Rubin: Hi, Mary Jo, thanks for joining me today and sharing your clinical expertise in the systemic treatment of incest and complex developmental trauma. Just before we went live, you were sharing an experience you had while giving a webinar this last weekend, and something caught my ear that I wanted to ask you about. You suggested that there is something different between what is currently being practiced in the field of incest and complex developmental trauma, and what, in your experience, is correct, or what should be practiced.
Mary Jo Barrett: That’s a good place to begin. When I first started, which was 45 years ago, I was a worker for the state, basically doing in-home counseling. I discovered that in all these child abuse and neglect cases, there was a significant number of cases involving incest and sexual abuse — whether immediate family members or close family members or clergy or whatever. I would go to my supervisors for guidance, but no one really knew how to treat it.
For example, Minuchin told me that I didn’t need to focus on the incest. I just needed to look at restructuring and building a hierarchy, and that the incest would then be alleviated. Carl Whitaker, who I was madly in love with, basically said, “You know what? I don’t know what to tell you.” At least that was honest. He said, “I do schizophrenia. You better figure out how to do incest.” He was my teacher, so I decided I needed to figure it out.
And so, over the years, I started asking my clients more formally about incest and sexual abuse. I also had my supervisees ask their clients. And whether I was conducting training in Europe or here, I began to ask the clients what the most effective thing about their therapeutic experiences was, and what about the therapy they had received made it “good therapy.”
Basically, nobody said “techniques.” They said what we know they would say and did actually say. It was the relationship between the therapist and client. But they even said more specific things. And of the specific things they said, I narrowed the list down to what I call the five essential ingredients of trauma treatment. But what they said applies to all models of treatment. And as we know, none of these models are better than the other I developed what I call a meta-model that applies to any trauma protocol that exists based on these five essential ingredients. And so, whether you do IFS or CBT or SC or any of the alphabet soup of techniques or protocols that are out there, they will be successful if they have the five essential ingredients.   

The Key to Effective Trauma Treatment is Collaboration

LR: What exactly are these five ingredients for effective trauma treatment?
MB: People, especially those who have been abused, need to feel that they have value, power, control, and connection. So, these “ingredients” include the client:

  • feeling valued
  • learning specific skills in finding resources
  • understanding contextual variables needed for an engaged mind state
  • developing workable realities
  • building a hopeful vision for the future

When a therapist, case manager, or foster care worker gets stuck with a client who has been abused or neglected, I suggest that they don’t go back to the protocol, but instead to the relationship.

LR: Going back to the question that I opened with, how do you see what’s in the zeitgeist now, what’s popular now, as being lacking in comparison to this collaborative model that you developed?
MB: The basic essence is that I go to the client to tell me what to do, versus going to a model or technique to tell me what to do.
LR: Can you think of a recent clinical instance in which the relationship seemed that much more important in the moment than any technique or model?
MB: Larry, every day! That is my model. Every session. In every session when you’re talking about trauma, there will be an impasse. I call it differently. In any moment, there’s going to be what I call a traumatic stress, which means the client, because of their trauma, is going to experience therapy as dangerous.
As we always say, survivors often see danger where danger doesn’t exist. I mean, that’s a standard thing. But that happens in therapy all the time. That’s because the therapeutic relationship is based on hierarchy and attachment. There is a hierarchy, right? I mean the therapist has more power. And the therapist is often controlling the sessions or the direction or what’s going on. And there’s a necessary attachment. There’s going to be an attachment between therapist and client.
Abuse and neglect are embedded in hierarchical attachment relationships. Now, the thing is, every time I say abuse and neglect, people might go, “But we’re talking about trauma.” And I’m saying, again, almost all the trauma cases we talk about revolve around interrelationship violations.
LR: So, if we practice anything other than a collaborative model, then we may in some way be replicating the hierarchical violation in the family that contributed to that abuse.
MB: I’d say that a majority of these clients anticipate and experience, from time to time, that violation in the therapeutic relationship.
LR: So, if the therapist moves too quickly or dives right into the trauma narrative or says, “Tell me about this,” or, “I’d like you to do this,” they are abusing their power? Even using directive words or a tone of voice or body posture can trigger a client so that they feel unsafe. And that’s when you would be cognizant of that, hypersensitive to that, and readjust any of those facets of your approach?
MB: Correct. And the collaborative change model is exactly that cycle. What you just described. And what’s interesting to me is that the collaborative change model is a natural model. And when I describe it, folks at the clinic say, “Oh, my god, yeah!” And the good clinician says, “That’s what I do in my sessions anyway.” And all I’m saying is, make it conscious. It’s a natural cycle of change.
The first phase is creating a context — which is creating refuge, making assessment, figuring out what’s going on — then making a direction, deciding what kind of intervention to use. And then when we start doing our interventions, which is natural, we’re challenging, right? And the relationship becomes embedded in this hierarchy because I’m sort of pushing and challenging by asking them to do something different. And in that moment, the client might experience a moment of fight-flight-freeze-submit. Or fix! And I have to, as a clinician, recognize that.
And in that moment, instead of pushing harder to make an assumption of, “Oh, they can’t tell,” or whatever it is, I need to stop and recreate a context of change. So, at that moment, I stop and say, “What do you need now? What’s going on? How do you feel? Should I slow down? What’s happening?”
I’ll give you an example. I had a client who often during the sessions would say, repetitively, “You don’t get it. You don’t get it. You don’t get it.” And I’d often get defensive. I’d sometimes want to say, “Well, help me understand,” or, “Explain it.” And then one day after the session, I was thinking, “I think that’s a trauma response. So, I said, “I’m wondering if when I’m doing something that triggers you, you experience me as threatening and go into ‘You don’t get it’ as a repetitive response.” And she really thought about it and looked at it and she said, “You know, I’ve often felt there’s things you do that remind me of my mother.”
This client’s mother was like Joan Crawford’s character in Mommie Dearest, and we’re not just talking severely abusive. I asked her what reminded me in those moments of her mother. In response, she said that I talked loudly, and it was the way I dressed in skirts. She experienced me as dressing in a way that was, for her, reminiscent of her mother, which she experienced as provocative. I don’t know that it was, but she experienced it as such, so for her, it was.
So, when we then had that conversation, and from then on, I did consciously change how I dressed on the days I saw her. And I consciously changed my voice. And after that conversation, she never said, “You don’t get it,” again.
LR: So, when she emphatically repeated, “You don’t get it, you don’t get it,” it was metaphoric for something like, “You’re not hearing me, that hurts, stop it, you’re not hearing me, you’re dressing in a way that confuses me. You’re not hearing me. Daddy did this, or Mommy did this, or my brother did this.” It’s like this broad statement of, “I am feeling abused right now.” She may not have been able to put a finger on exactly what element of your relational moment was triggering her, but “You don’t get it,” meant, “I am feeling powerless and unsafe.”
MB: Violated. She was feeling violated.
LR: She was feeling violated. Because you’re much more cognizant about the relationship and the attachment, and breaches in the attachment, you were able to look inward and ask yourself, “What could I be doing? How could how I be talking? What would I be wearing? What might we be talking about? What is it about the way I’m asking questions that could be replicating at some level what happened in her family?”
MB: Yes.
LR: Did I get it right?
MB: You did get it. I should bring up my PowerPoint. You’re doing a very good job. I have three slides that I use in trainings, which I introduce by saying, “These are the three watchwords or phrases of my faith.” The first one is by Mandela that says, “A good head and good heart are always a formidable combination.” The second one was by R.D. Laing who talked about the importance of awareness by saying something like, “If you aren’t aware that you’re not aware, there’s nothing you could do to make change.” And the third one is by Jay Woodman which says that “Life is a series of cycles of getting lost and finding yourself.” And that each time you’re lost, if you look at it as a possibility, then you will find yourself in a new place. And so, my thing is, therapy is a cycle of getting lost and finding yourself again. And once you’re aware of that, you integrate your mind and your brain, your heart, and you’re golden.   

The Healing Power of the Therapeutic Relationship

LR: Is there something about trauma, and incest in particular, that drives clinicians to cleave to techniques and theoretical models; bypassing what they truly know to be effective, with is the relationship?
MB: It’s an integration of the two. When we spoke with these clients, it was clear that they did need new skills. It was the third most important thing, not the first. But the first thing they said was connection. The second thing they said was they had to feel valued, and they had to value the clinician. Then they said they had to feel empowered. And then they said skills.
Everybody that’s developed a protocol model is going to argue with me and say the relationship is the basis of all those protocol models. I would say I got you; I believe you. But if you ask the people who are trained in those models, they will say the emphasis is on the protocol and the interventions.
And they would also say that the difference is that when they’re stuck or a client gets activated, that it’s “go back to the protocol,” versus going to the client to collaborate.
LR: I wonder if there’s something about trauma, and particularly incest, that compels clinicians, especially those who aren’t experienced, to have to “do something.”
MB: A hundred percent! This is actually the new thing that I’ve added to the “fight-flight-freeze” paradigm, which is “fix.” So, I think what happens when a clinician becomes overwhelmed — I call it a place of traumatic stress — fix becomes part of a trauma reaction. The traumatic stress reactions.
When a therapist falls into a “fix-it” state, that should be an indication that they are in the trauma field and are feeling dysregulated. They then have to get re-regulated in order to move to a different place. And it’s the same with the client, who at that moment needs skills to re-regulate themself. I don’t believe when a client or a therapist is dysregulating, that’s the time to automatically use a technique.
LR: So, by jumping in with “a fix,” the therapist might be trying to regulate themselves at the cost of their client’s regulation.
MB: I want to say one other thing which is not going to be popular. I believe that when therapists jump in with a technique, they’re hoping it’s a solution for the consumer of their services.
LR: Giving them something.
MB: Giving them something, which is capitalism. Everything is an agreement in the contract with my clients.

The Importance of Working Systemically with Incest

LR: Someone reading this interview might say, “Well, it sounds like she’s working with the individual,” but I know you’re deeply systemic. So, I’m assuming that this collaborative model infuses your family work around complex developmental trauma?
MB: Yes. Most of the clinical work I do is with couples and families. And this goes back to the research we did with these clients who said that rarely, if ever, did other clinicians include their family. So, what would happen is that after those sessions with the “other” therapists, these clients would go home and have abusive fights or get hit. Or a parent would continue the abuse or violate.
Here, I go back to what I said earlier. Abuse, neglect, and childhood developmental trauma are embedded in a relationship of hierarchy and attachment. So, I believe healing should happen in a relationship.
I want the therapy to recreate some of the crisis right in the room with me. So, if there’s a fight, and dissociation, we all can witness it together and address it in the moment — together. If there’s eyeball-rolling that then triggers the other person, I want it to happen in the room, because those are the cycles that cause the traumatic stress at home.
Everything I’m saying to you here and now is what I say in the first session. When I start a session, I want the safety in our relationship to spill over into their relationship. I want their relationship to be a source of regulation. Not me. I don’t want to be the primary person in their lives.
LR: I can see how this would apply working with intimate partner violence. But are you saying that in cases where there is past or present childhood incest, that you would work systemically with either the current or past family members?
MB: Let me delineate two things. One; when the incest is currently happening and its children, yes, I include everybody. But I have all sorts of rules and boundaries. If it’s currently happening, and in most states, if incest is currently happening, then usually the perpetrator, whether it’s a sibling or a parent or not, is kept away from the child, right?
So, I don’t bring the alleged offender, or the offender, into the room with the victim until they’ve acknowledged facts. So, if they’re denying facts and saying, “She made me do it,” or, “He made me do it,” or, “It never happened,” I don’t do family with them. But I would do family with other family members. But I don’t bring the alleged offender into the room until after they’re no longer denying facts. 
LR: Is that enough? Just getting past the point of denial? Would they have had to have done some significant reparative work of their own before you brought them into the room with the victim?
MB: They are in therapy. Yeah. I mean if it’s currently happening, then the offender is in individual and group therapy, according to how I think good incest therapy should happen. And the rest of the family are either in individual, group, or family treatment for whatever their issues are. And the kids could be in individual concurrently with the family therapy.And then when the violator has met certain criteria, then they can start coming into the sessions.

LR: So, who’s your client? In a case of incest, where it happens currently, or even in the past, who do you identify as the primary client?
MB: The family. But/and my collaboration is with all. It’s a team. I mean it takes a village. Absolutely. When we’re talking incest, it can’t be done effectively by one therapist.
LR: Do you or can you even work effectively with adult survivors of childhood incest?
MB: I’ve developed what I call the “family dialogue program,” which is for adult survivors with their families. And so, I do bring them together but it’s different. I often do it in these intense weekend workshops because if people live all over the country, it depends on if we’re doing therapy about wanting to talk about the abuse and neglect or are we doing what I call the third reality, which is, let’s just focus on the future. Let’s not focus on, did it happen, didn’t it happen, what’s going on? Let’s just focus on, am I going to come to your funeral? Am I going to come to Passover? How can we be in the room together? Am I going to go to my niece’s wedding? Are you going to ever meet your grandchildren? That kind of thing.
LR: That presumes that the perpetrator must take responsibility. They must be willing to listen, at least. Be present and listen. In other words, if you want to ever see your grandkids, you’re going to listen to me. You’re going to hear me. And that perpetrator may leave not feeling very healed, but at least he or she will have given the opportunity to the victim to be heard.
MB: And that’s why I call it the third reality. Because we’re just focusing on, “it’s not about your reality,” it’s about if you want to see your grandchildren. If I want to come to your house, are you going to be able to tolerate me…you know, me believing this and being in the same room as you.
LR: In a sense, it’s a way for the victim to recapture some power.
MB: Oh, absolutely. And that’s what most survivors will say to me. I mean a lot of people have said, “I was in therapy for 10 years, and that weekend with my father was the most important thing in my healing.”

The Gratification of Working with Trauma and Incest

LR: Okay, okay. My guess is that many in private practice would run when they receive a referral for incest. But you seem to run toward it.
MB: I don’t think people in private practice run from the adult survivors, but they run from when it’s currently happening.
LR: Why is that?
MB: Because I think it is one of the greatest taboos. And they never learned how to deal with it. And I think they never learned how to manage. And they often don’t understand how anybody can even want to see their father or their brother or their mother based on what they’ve done to me. Or done to them. Done to the victim. And so, I think a lot of them experience transference and/or feel inadequate.

I don’t know if it was a particular case, and I said to my husband, “What kind of person likes working with sex offenders?”
And in terms of me, Larry, I supposed we could get me on a couch to figure out why. I do remember very distinctly one time bolting out of bed, like sitting up straight. I don’t know if it was a particular case, and I said to my husband, “What kind of person likes working with sex offenders?”
But I would rather work with incest any day of the week over depression because people I work with change. And I see that change. I have seen plenty of sex offenders change. And I’ve had the fortunate experience of being able to follow up on some of my very first cases. I’ve seen one of my first cases 40 years after they stopped. It was an unbelievable experience.
Well, partly it was fun because I got to ask them all sorts of questions. I’ve always been a very creative therapist, where I just make shit up as I go along, that seems to fit. I remember one of my cases — it was incest and domestic violence. The father was in supervision and was told he couldn’t be within 365 yards of his family when he first got out of jail. He actually parked a mobile home 365 yards from the family home. And he was something else.
About a year into it, maybe less, I went back to court to get permission to have him come to family sessions. And he did. And one time, I was doing a good old family therapy looking for strengths, and I said to them, “You’re not always abusing each other. There are times when you’re not. Let’s talk about those times.” And the kids were younger, like 16, 11, and 10. I handed out these little recipe cards where I asked each family member to write down the recipe for nonviolence. Like a cup of this, and 3 tablespoons of that.
I gathered them all and laminated them, and then had them talk about it. The mother said, “It’s half a cup of going to church, and another quarter of a cup is no alcohol.” I mean that kind of stuff. And so literally 30 years later, I interviewed the same family. And the woman, the daughter who was the incest survivor was 40-something. I asked her a couple questions, one of which was whether she had gone to any trauma therapy. She said, “Why would I? I already had it.” So, I asked, “When you were getting married, or dating, what was that like? Were you always anxious? Were you afraid?” She opened her purse and pulled out the laminated card, and said, “I only dated people that had the ingredients.”
LR: Talk about having an impact. Wow, that must have felt great.
MB: I burst into tears. I didn’t do the initial interview, one of my graduate students did. But I was behind a one-way mirror, because who wouldn’t want to see one of their first clients? I went in and I asked them questions. So, in fact, there’s an example of the use of a particular skill. I don’t know that- would it have been the same if it hadn’t really come from them? I don’t know.
LR: Had you not had a relationship, they wouldn’t have taken the cards to begin with.
MB: Right, right.
LR: Do you see yourself in charge of the treatment village when working with the perpetrator?
MB: I have a case right now of sibling incest, and one of the kids is a young adult, but not even, I mean probably a teenager still, 18, 19, who is in individual therapy. I’m trying to do a family session because the parents have two children. So, the parents are involved, and the son who offended his sister. And I’m trying to coordinate. And the sister’s therapist didn’t call me.
LR: What recourse do you have?
MB: Well, the recourse I have is the parents. He is still a teenager. So, the parents can call this person up and say, “Our daughter signed a release, we signed a release. You need to call.” I’m not saying it in a nasty way. But I try to avoid doing that because I don’t need to start an adversarial relationship. But that’s the recourse I have. If the person was an adult, I mean I’d still have the parents to talk to their child and say, “Look, we want to heal this.” As it turned out, the son’s individual therapist calls me and cooperates. We have a great working relationship.

The Complex Arena of Incest Work

LR: Earlier on in one of our conversations, you said, “Incest is virtually neglected in our field.” Clearly, incest hasn’t stopped.
MB: Incest hasn’t decreased at all since I started in the field in ’78.
LR: What do you mean it’s neglected? By clinicians? By researchers?
MB: : I think everybody’s neglecting it. I think that the problem is that we’ve lumped trauma into one thing — complex developmental trauma.

I think that there is something very important to calling violence or violations what they are. Incest is unique. It’s not just a sexual assault. It’s unique because this is often a relationship where the people also have a very positive connection. “This is my parent,” they might say. I had a client way back, I mean again, 30 or so years, who wrote a poem. The one line that sticks out into my head was — and I don’t think she was writing it just to me, it was in general — she said, “I asked you to put an end to the abuse, and you put an end to my family.”

LR: Oh! Did she write the poem to you?
MB: I don’t think it was to me because I asked her. It was to the system. She’s another one that I still have contact with because periodically she’ll write me and say things like, “I just had a baby, just won a marathon.” I mean that kind of stuff. I think professionals feel anxious. I think they feel traumatized. I think it feels like you said. It’s such a moral violation that, as clinicians, we don’t know how to manage. How do I manage that I care about somebody? How do I manage that this woman stayed married to somebody who sexually abused her child?

I just think the taboo is so deeply entrenched that it causes such distress to those who work in this area. I just was working with a family where one of the children was sexually abused. And the other two weren’t. And when I talked to all of them, I said, “All of you were abused. But what happened to Susie is more of a moral violation.” And so that’s why people can’t tolerate it. I think there’s something about not being able to tolerate it. Like I said, I can find something positive. It makes sense to me that someone can be abused by a family member and still care.

LR: The popularity of complex developmental trauma overshadows the clinical attention on sexual assault.
MB: All I know is that so many clients tell me that people either never asked them or understood it. So, it just gets lumped into a category of trauma. And all traumas are not created equal. I’m not saying incest is worse than being physically abused. I’m not saying it’s worse, I’m just saying it has its own unique connected relationship with somebody they cared about who I also had many positives. And it leaves me even in some ways more confused because it isn’t linear or simple. Even if the person was abused by somebody that came and left like a babysitter or Boy Scout leader, with whom they also had an intimate relationship, it’s very confusing. 
LR: The deepest form of betrayal.
MB: Yes. I think sometimes clinicians can’t manage that level of complexity. Which goes back to your question; “Give me some techniques, it makes things less complex. I can feel better about myself if I know how to do this. Do that.” Larry, every single day, I go, “Wait, I don’t know what I’m doing exactly. What do I do now? I just had this explosion.”

I was sitting in the room last week with somebody that got up, grabbed something off my table, threw it on the ground, and smashed it. “I got to go,” they said So, I said, “Wait a minute, okay, let me figure out.” What was I going to say in that moment? “Follow my finger?”

LR: What did you do? How did you handle the moment?
MB: What I did in that moment was said, “I need a drink of water. You need to sit down. I am feeling afraid. And I want to talk about this. But right now, I need to calm down. And you need to. We both need to.” I had been seeing this guy for a while. It made sense to say, “We need to regulate.”

Well, the wife was there, and they have a child. But the child wasn’t there. I had a separate session with the child. And I had a separate session with the wife. I did break them all up. And then I had a session with him, and we just talked about it. And I talked to him. And of course, like every other, he said, “This is what happens when she does blah, blah, blah.” “This is what happens when my child…” And I explained to him that acts of violence are linear. I don’t think I said “linear,” but… “I get it. It is all these other things that activate you. However, you have to make a decision about how you’re going to react to these things.”

LR: I would see where a younger therapist, or a frightened or threatened therapist might have ended the session immediately, out of fear for themselves, out of loss of control of the session. But you saw it as part of the way the system functions, and your role in that moment was to regulate. To me, the external regulator, the governor of sorts. Is apology critical?
MB: Acknowledgment is important, not apology. Because people say they’re sorry very easily.
LR: So, how do you know when an acknowledgment is sincere and productive, moving forward?
MB: So, when somebody is going to make a formal acknowledgment, it’s a planned session where they write a narrative. They write it down, they talk about… Basically, I have them talk about facts, impact, responsibility. So, they’re giving it to me beforehand. And that’s part of the therapy process. They’re writing their acknowledgement as a therapeutic technique. So, they’re writing this, and that’s how I know it’s sincere.
LR: What are some of the common presenting problems that people come to therapy with that raise your incest red flags?
MB: Well, on that level, they probably don’t look any different than any other form of abuse, neglect, or violation. They really don’t. Eating disorders, self-mutilating, suicide. Any of those things. Most of these are symptoms, I think are survival skills. I think they’re skills that people have used over time to survive their abuse and neglect. And now it’s become problematic. The skills themselves are problematic. The skills work. If I drank too much, if I cut, if I was sexually promiscuous, if I was suicidal, if I was dissociating. It might have worked to avoid memory and pain. That’s how I tell my clients; that most of their symptoms are utilized to avoid memory and pain until they don’t.

And now the symptoms themselves are causing the pain. To me, incest doesn’t look any different. What happens is, as I start my sessions by asking people how they heard about me.

If they didn’t know my name, they might have typed in “trauma, abuse, childhood something.” And it’s not just “therapy.” Usually, they got to me, somehow, they typed something else in. Or they got to me through a therapist. And so, when they say trauma, which is usually what it is, I then say, “Look, if we’re going to talk about it, we’re not going to talk about it now. But I need you to know I feel really comfortable talking about incest. I feel really comfortable talking about sibling abuse. I feel comfortable talking if you beat each other up.” So, I’m just saying, down the road, if any of those things come up, I feel comfortable.

LR: Has there ever been an instance where all roads pointed to incest and the person allowed you down that road, right up to the door, and then just closed it in your face?
MB: No. When I take a family history, when I do a genogram, and everything points to incest, I might just say, “You know what? I just need you to know from what you’re telling me; I’m not saying it was incest. But there might be, it could have been. It feels to me like emotional incest at least. Like you are hierarchically your father’s peer. Or it feels like you and your brother turned to each other in ways to get affection that you didn’t get from anyone else or your parent(s).”

So, it doesn’t have to be. And this isn’t your question. But it’s a question people often ask me. Do you need to know all the story to help? And the answer is no. 
LR: And I think clinicians sometimes may forget that incest is a violation of hierarchy. It’s a violation of trust. And not all incestuous relationships are sexual. Are there any questions I could have asked or should have asked?
MB: Well, I mean we have maybe a couple of million. But I think what I would say is, you know, we should talk again.
LR: I would like that. Thanks Mary Jo.

The CORE Approach to Therapy: Helping Jennie Find Resilience

A 58-year-old CT scan technician at a local hospital, the youngest of three sisters, and a recovering alcoholic, Jennie came to therapy four months after healing from surgery to repair an atrial septic defect, one of two major congenital holes in her heart. The repair of one of the major defects, and other secondary repairs had been done during Jennie’s childhood. When we began her treatment, Jennie was about three months into a second episode of sobriety after a relapse prior to heart surgery.

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As Scott Miller’s research into therapeutic effectiveness has taught us, the relationship is the key variable in virtually any modality. With this in mind, I decided to utilize the CORE method with Jennie to develop a safe, trusting context in which a strong therapeutic alliance could develop. The method offers a schematic guideline for the utilization of intuition as a curative dimension, particularly in the treatment of trauma. The model is comprised of four components.

Connecting in a caring climate of calm and comfort

Orienting toward strengths, including inner wisdom

Resourcing resilience, evoking awareness of capacity

Establishing strengths that endure, including symbols and metaphors

Connection

When Jennie first came to therapy, my intent was to attune to her and to her story in a way that would communicate a sense of being heard and clinically “held.” My intention was to create an atmosphere of positive regard in which Jennie would experience acceptance and, with her nervous system sufficiently regulated, feel safe enough to address past painful memories and traumatic events of the past. My strategy was to build a connection with attunement to Jennie’s frame of reference, her beliefs, and her presentation and language, to create a context in which Jennie might better understand events of the present.

As our alliance flourished, I would look for opportunities to offer trance, possibly with a lengthier induction, but maybe a short absorption, in which Jennie might find latent or cut-off resources she could apply in future situations. In this way, I was able to help her to identify and integrate new resources in the service of managing her emotions and behavior in future situations.

For the first two sessions, I mostly listened to Jennie’s story, affirming the trials and problems she revealed. In doing so, I gently guided Jennie to express as clearly as she could what she hoped to get from her therapy. Although I didn’t know at first, or even at the start of any particular session how exactly I might utilize methods of hypnosis and trance in combination with ideas arising from my intuition, I hoped that the strength of our connection, characterized by validation of both Jennie’s struggles and her strengths, would ultimately lead her to recognize and absorb a belief in her own resilience and achieve her clinical goals.

I trusted that as I listened to Jennie’s story with compassion, attuned with an empathic gaze, and validating responses, that I would pick up both overt and minimal cues of what was most important for her. I also believed that as I scanned the impressions arising from my clinical observations, I would recognize cues for what might be needed to help her learn to recognize and shift into a state of calm when sympathetic arousal overwhelmed her emotional boundaries, and what points would stand out for me for utilization of trance.

It did not take long for Jennie to come to her goals. She wanted to deal with cumulative stress that would “pile up” and lead to “rage that can get out of control.” During exploration of her major life stressors, Jennie reported a difficult under-staffed work setting as well as on-going communication problems in the family of origin which included at the time a terminally ill brother-in-law and misunderstandings between herself and her two older sisters, Naida and Meg, that often involved the oldest sister’s daughter, Marcia, a niece who was close to Jennie in age and whom Jennie considered a close friend.

Although Jennie’s life partner, Tony, was dealing with a terminally ill mother, this added stress in Tony’s life was not causing conflict in their life together. From all reports, this primary relationship appeared to be a stable area and an island of support for Jennie. Clearly, she was more likely to be triggered into anger by relationship disturbances with her siblings or with coworkers when differences of opinion resulted in disagreements and distorted perceptions.

Such interpersonal static would cause Jennie to question her understanding of a situation, trying often with difficulty to determine her part in the problem. Often, the aftermath would be distance from her niece or from a sister or might form resentments toward a co-worker that could affect her morale and threaten her sense of competent efficiency at her job.

While Jennie reported no incidents of physical violence toward anyone with whom she would get angry, she expressed high motivation to learn to refrain from lashing out and making disagreements into larger issues that would disrupt contact with her sisters and leave her feeling bereft and disappointed in herself.

These types of painful emotional episodes reminded Jennie of the dysfunction and traumatic chaos caused by alcoholism in her family of origin. She wanted to understand how the old images, left-over impressions, and painful memories of the past affected her in her relationships now.

In the service of self-differentiation, Jennie longed to understand her personal role in these painful experiences. As therapy progressed, Jennie became even more consciously motivated to find strategies for reducing the emotional/somatic arousal that would break through her conscious intent to refrain from lashing out.

Orientation: Toward Strength and Inner Wisdom

My realization was that an inner wise intelligence was available for utilization as part of problem solving, and in this case, specifically for healing trauma via re-association of cut-off strengths and resources.

It seemed both clinically and intuitively advisable to consider orienting Jennie toward her strength and helping her to access via her intuitive, inner wisdom. Jennie, I intuitively hypothesized, would benefit from an approach that would utilize trance and also provide some solid stress management skills. Both the intuitive and the practical would serve to guide Jennie toward the resources she wanted for managing both her emotions and her behaviors, particularly during interpersonal stress and conflict. Like every feature of CORE, intuition would be best accomplished with the CORE features of an approach that would access the non-conscious processes of the intuitive dimension of mind to remind Jennie of strengths she had already used in her life, and access dormant and latent strengths that were, for the moment, dissociated from a consciousness plagued by conscious as well as subliminal memories from her past.

First Intuitive Impressions

As therapy began, so did both overt and minimal cues as well as intuitive impressions. My first initial postulation, based on Jennies wide, welcoming smile, was that she had relational resources she was evidencing, but not fully aware of. I sensed based on the way she connected on screen, face-to-face, eagerly listening to what I chose to say, that Jennie might be open to the focused attention of hypnotic trance, with or without eyes open. While later this proved to be true, at first it was more of a hunch as she was readily beginning to let me know her by revealing a background history of emotional neglect, family conflict, and multiple complex losses, as well as the recent operation to correct a congenital heart defect.

It did not take long for a certain current situation in Jennie’s work life to give me a chance to test out my hypothesis. The idea for the experiential moment came intuitively in the third session. I was working on two channels, the intuitive and the clinical, listening to Jennie, and paying attention to her non-verbals. I was also scanning my own hypotheses. As I was also sorting out clinically what direction I might go in next, Jennie’s narrative gave me the inspiration, an intuitive idea.

Resourcing Resilience

I was able to guide Jennie toward the realization that inner strengths existed and could be available — in this instance, using a brief trance and metaphor, as well as a dissociative moment in the service of integration of strengths.

Jennie revealed that in the imaging department, a complaining and underperforming co-worker was “driving me crazy!” (I was now in intuitive territory). Extremely conscientious in her work, Jennie could feel her anger brewing and escalating as the co-worker’s poor work ethic and performance was leaving her overwhelmed and frustrated. Jennie was adamant that she did not want to lash out or do anything to cause problems for herself at the job, as had happened in other situations in the past. She wanted some help to calm herself so she could cope in a different way.

“Just ignore this person and go about your business,” might have worked for some people, but Jennie’s anger was deeply embedded in her emotional and operational self. I intuited that reaching her non-conscious intuitive mind was the way to go.

“I am so angry when I go in and I see her! I feel like I am just a bitch!”

In that moment, I remembered her history of conflict with two older sisters who had blamed Jennie and called her a bitch! I also knew Jennie had not just a broad smile, but a way of seeing the world with humor. How to externalize this self-denigrating sense of herself was the intuitive question — the answer came quickly and surprised me with its humor and potential to utilize Jennie’s sense of humor — without formal trance. I also knew that I was going to trade in what had felt like a positive alliance.

“Jennie, I have this idea and you can tell me if it seems too odd. (She agreed to hear the idea) Have you ever seen a spray perfume bottle?”

“I just happen to have a very fancy one,” Jennie replied.

“What if you imagine that it is filled with a perfume called “Eau de Bitch?” And you can imagine that you can spray it all around when you go into work, so you know it’s just in the air and it’s not in you!”

Now chuckling, she said; “I love that idea!” I’m going to do it!

Evoking Endurance

“Well, let’s take it one step further, okay? You could also have another imaginary bottle that could be for you. This one could be sprayed in the air like an air cleaner, or on you like perfume. This one could be called “Eau de Calm.”

Now fully belly-laughing, Jennie reported that she was actually going to use the real spray bottle for “Eau-de-Bitch.” She later sent me a picture of the bottle and reported at the next session that not only did she no longer feel bothered by the co-worker, but Eau-de-Bitch could also be a go-to when she was upset by her sisters.

***

Over time, using intuition in my work, and teaching others how to use this psychic dimension of mind, I have learned that although people might understand the concept of what intuition is or can be, may clinicians want something more concrete about how to utilize intuition in the clinical setting — or in life.

[Editor Note: “Jennie” has given the author permission to share her story on psychology platforms for teaching purposes.]    

A Shared Diagnosis: Managing Breast Cancer Together

Over the course of my treatment for breast cancer, I found myself feeling professionally challenged in many ways. But the most significant source of my growth as a therapist during this time came from the fact that I was following in the path of one of my own patients, Jessica Chin (a pseudonym). She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2019, and three years later I would receive the same diagnosis while she was still in treatment with me. At my request, and with homage to Irv Yalom’s Every Day Gets a Little Closer, Jessica shared her thoughts (in italics) throughout this essay. Working together was a privilege and it is my hope that our combined voices will serve to deepen the conversation about the potential impact of a therapy relationship for both patient and therapist.

In our profession, we rely on our ability to treat people who differ from us in a variety of ways. Our training and our capacity for empathy allow us to develop deep connections with patients despite differences in such things as age, gender, and ethnicity.

In contrast, my experience with Jessica highlighted for me the complexity and power of having a shared experience with a patient.

Working Therapeutically in Uncharted Territory

Jessica first came to my office in 2012 to discuss generational issues in her Asian family. Through our work, her self-esteem improved. She found her own voice and was able to extricate herself from the family business, marry, and move to another state. We ended our work together after four years, and both felt encouraged by her progress and the prospects for her future.

Unexpectedly, three years later, she was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 35 and reached out to me seeking to resume therapy. Her prognosis was good, but the road ahead was scary and fraught. She had chemotherapy, followed by surgery, and then radiation. Although she and her husband had decided that they did not want to have children, the fact that her treatment would lead to early menopause and the consequent side effects was a harsh reality to absorb.

When I was diagnosed, I immediately thought of reaching out to Maggie. I thankfully had family and friends to lean on, but I needed support from someone that understood the nuances of my family and personal history and how it could impact my treatment and wellbeing. I also needed an outside perspective to help navigate my treatment. Genetic testing revealed I have a positive gene mutation which meant I could choose a bilateral or double mastectomy rather than a lumpectomy and radiation. There was also data suggesting those who carry this genetic mutation might have a higher chance of breast cancer recurrence if exposed to radiation. I spent most of my sessions with Maggie weighing pros and cons and what if's. She regularly advised me to make the decision that was backed by data and to lean into what felt right to me. There would be what if's no matter what — only I knew what I could manage during this time and to hold onto that. This advice grounded me in my personal and medical decisions throughout treatment and to this day.

I had been in practice for over 30 years at the time of Jessica’s diagnosis, but I had almost no experience working with patients who were actively undergoing cancer treatment. Even more surprising, despite the prevalence of breast cancer (1 in 8 women in the United States receive a diagnosis of breast cancer over the course of their lifetimes) I had never had a patient undergoing treatment for breast cancer while in my practice. My instinct was to help Jessica hear her own voice through the cacophony of advice she was receiving and support her while she had a multitude of difficult decisions to make.

My knowledge of Jessica’s background and complex family dynamics from our prior work together gave me a benchmark against which to assess the changes in her mood and outlook. As is common for people with a life-altering diagnosis, she became more intolerant of “wasting time” and pushed back against familial and cultural expectations for her to be compliant in her role as a daughter, woman, and patient. I supported her through all the phases of her treatment and then shortly thereafter found myself facing a similar diagnosis.

A Therapist's Cancer Experience Shapes Treatment

  From a routine mammogram screening in December of 2022, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. This was terra unfamiliar for me, but fortunately my prognosis was excellent. I scheduled my surgery during the week between Christmas and New Year’s, a period I had already arranged to be off.

My original plan was not to tell my patients of my diagnosis,  but after surgery it was determined I would need chemotherapy. Being immunocompromised, I would have to end in-person sessions, and anticipating a radical change in my own appearance, I decided to tell my patients about my cancer.

As I thought through my caseload, each patient brought different concerns to mind about how they would handle this news. Their concerns ranged from fear of losing me to death or retirement, or to the worry that their issues felt insignificant in comparison to my situation. I felt confident that I could work through the ups and downs with each patient.

Jessica was the patient I most dreaded telling. She would know from personal experience what I was facing, and I was concerned that my diagnosis would overwhelm her. 

At the time of my diagnosis, she had just entered the maintenance part of her treatment. I wasn’t sure what would happen to the boundaries between us as my treatment began to replicate hers.

When Maggie told me about her diagnosis, I was shocked and sad. My heart sank thinking of her going through the gamut of appointments, ultimately robbing a year of her life. From what she shared, I understood from a high level what this meant logistically and what it could possibly mean physically, mentally, and emotionally as each cancer experience is so unique. I wasn't surprised Maggie would keep seeing patients during her treatment from what I knew of her, plus, it would help to keep life “normal.”

I was wrong to worry about sharing my diagnosis and treatment with Jessica. Our boundaries did shift, and the sessions changed but I believe in ways that were beneficial to both of us. Being open to receiving from her was the beginning of my learning. She began to recount her cancer treatments with more details than she previously had shared. And I had a context to understand her references which I lacked before my own treatment. There was a clear shift in our roles as she became the teacher, sharing her experience. Despite being almost twice her age, I found Jessica’s personal understanding of cancer treatment deeply affirming of my own experience. Remarkably she was the closest person in my life at the time with a similar diagnosis.

Our sessions fell into a pattern: during the first ten minutes or so of each Zoom session, she asked me how I was feeling and together we discussed the ins and outs of whatever point in treatment I was facing.

It was initially uncomfortable for me to have so much of the focus on me but with time I came to appreciate how helpful our sessions were for both of us. In contrast, I also had to process my feelings about patients who never asked how I was feeling or showed any interest in my well-being. I didn’t want to bring any more attention to myself than I already had by sharing my diagnosis, but each patient’s response to my diagnosis revealed something about them and our relationship.

As Jessica learned about my experience, she was prompted to address how she felt during her treatment.

I didn't want to be evasive, asking how Maggie was doing during our sessions. I was genuinely concerned and didn't want her to feel like she owed me more of an explanation because of a shared diagnosis. I'd cautiously ask questions, not wanting to overstep personal boundaries. During certain points of her treatment, I'd share some of my experiences with Maggie, with the hope that it would serve as a form of support, and she wouldn't feel alone. Cancer is so lonely. If I could offer Maggie even the slightest amount of comfort, it would be an honor and a gift to do so.

Before my last chemotherapy treatment, she warned me that I would have to “ring the bell,” a customary ritual at the end of chemotherapy. She knew me well enough to know this was not something I would welcome. She had never talked about this experience before, and it led to an exploration of her feelings about how powerless she felt as a patient to say, “No.”

Our increased understanding of each other helped me personally, but it also helped me be a better therapist for Jessica. The nuances of our work deepened as we grew closer and her voice continued to get stronger, to the point that I felt comfortable enough to ask her if she would like to participate in writing this essay. I trusted she would be able to give an honest answer.

A significant way our treatment protocols diverged was that I was offered cold capping with my chemotherapy treatments to help prevent hair loss. In the end my hair loss was negligible which was a huge relief to me. Jessica, by contrast, lost all her hair during chemotherapy; this loss prompted many sessions focused on her distrust of her body and her despair over her altered appearance.

By the time of my diagnosis, Jessica’s hair had grown back, not exactly as it had been before treatment but sufficiently that the change was not obvious to a casual observer.

As she witnessed my lack of hair loss, she spoke in greater detail about her own ordeal of losing her hair, being fitted for a wig, and the physical discomfort of her hair growing back. We talked about the financial burden of a cancer diagnosis and the lack of insurance coverage for “cosmetic” concerns such as hair loss. Our shared knowledge base deepened my ability to support her unresolved anger with the medical system. Her need to fight the insurance company for access to care is an ongoing source of stress for her.

Cold capping was presented as “nice to have” and questionably effective for my treatment plan. That, coupled with it not being covered by my insurance, was disappointing. I was surprised cold capping was presented as a positive option for Maggie and was intrigued what the results would be. I hoped the cold capping would work and she'd be spared the physical and mental trauma of losing her hair. I was thrilled the cold capping worked for Maggie and equally enraged this is not a standard part of every woman's treatment and insurance plan.

The difference in our age was most pronounced in discussions about long-term management of our cancer diagnosis. As a young woman, Jessica is facing far more extensive interventions and questions about how to stay cancer-free without compromising her health in other ways. As she continues to grow professionally, she also has to contend with issues related to maintaining her health insurance coverage. As someone on Medicare and nearing the end of my professional career, I have more autonomy in making decisions about my work-life balance.

Since resuming our work together, Jessica’s father has died and there have been other major transitions in her life. Separate from our shared experiences around cancer, we have done some important work about managing grief and setting limits with her family of origin. Even when we are not directly talking about her cancer, it is a reality that colors the conversation.

In a way, our shared cancer experience has allowed me to open up more to Maggie during our sessions. I've felt comfortable and trusted her throughout the years, but something has changed. I feel strongly this has been instrumental in working through the grief of losing my father.

There was something profoundly different in my work with Jessica since my cancer diagnosis from my work with any other patient. As I gain more distance from my cancer treatment, we have shifted away from the weekly check-ins. But she will always be at the forefront of my mind, and gratefully so, when I think about what it was like to continue to practice through my cancer diagnosis and treatment.

***   

Allowing our patients to know us, let alone directly help us, is a controversial topic in the field of psychotherapy. But sometimes life intervenes, and we have to adapt. I am glad I continued to practice during my cancer treatment. As Jessica said (she also worked throughout her treatments), it helped keep a semblance of normalcy in my life while allowing me to feel like more than just a patient. And I move forward with confidence that I am a better therapist for her and other patients who might follow in our shared diagnosis.
 

Questions for Thought and Discussion

  • How did the therapist's approach to her client resonate with you?
  • What are the advantages and disadvantages of sharing such Personal, and in this case intimate, information with a client?
  • If you have had a personal circumstance that converged with those of your client(s), how did you handle it?  

Containing The Adult ADHD Fad — With a Rejoinder from ChatGPT

A sad and fairly ubiquitous aspect of human fallibility is that we are extremely suggestable suckers for fashion. Psychiatry is no exception — its history is littered with recurrent fads. The specific details vary, but the pattern is always pretty much the same.

Dangerous Psychiatric Fads

  1. Charismatic promoters identify a new and plausible diagnosis; do some second-rate research suggesting it “exists,” write a lot of papers, and give a lot of workshops and conferences.
  2. Media picks up the story, sensationalizes the “new findings,” and transforms lousy evidence into a vital new discovery.
  3. Whenever a potential pill treatment is available, Pharma marketing goes into an extravagantly financed, high-gear marketing mode — enthusiastically hyping the diagnosis and the medication in every possible venue.
  4. Benefits of the new diagnosis and treatment are widely publicized; risks and harmful unintended consequences are neglected.
  5. Primary care docs are especially targeted because they do most of the prescribing of psych meds, have the least training, and aren’t given adequate time to do careful evaluations.
  6. Patients are seduced by drug ads to “ask your doctor” about the diagnosis and the pill to treat it. “Asking your doctor” usually results in getting the medication.
  7. These familiar patterns of fad development are now greatly speeded up and given immediate worldwide distribution via social networking on the internet.
  8. Diagnostic rates rise exponentially in a very short time.
Some dangerous fads in medicine have lasted thousands of years (e.g. bleeding, purging, popular meds that turned out to be poisons). But most fads come and go fairly quickly once the risks of treatment become obvious and the over-promised benefits don’t pan out. As the excitement surrounding one fad wears off, suggestible clinicians and patients become enthusiastic about, and eagerly await, the next fad.

Cold Hard Psychiatric Facts about ADHD

Why The Explosion of ADHD Rates in Kids? We are in the midst of a 30-year fad of excessive diagnosis of childhood ADHD. Rates have tripled to about 10% — partly because DSM definitions have gotten looser — mostly because of aggressive Pharma marketing to MDs, parents, and teachers. How Do We Know That Rates of ADHD are Wildly Exaggerated in Kids? Studies done in a dozen countries on millions of kids have returned a remarkably consistent and disturbing result. All over the world, the best predictor of ADHD is the child’s birth date — the youngest kid in the class is almost twice as likely to get an ADHD diagnosis than the eldest. There is only one possible interpretation of this powerfully robust finding: ADHD is being wildly over diagnosed — we have turned simple immaturity into a mental disorder. Does ADHD Ever Occur in Adults? Yes, of course — because many kids don’t outgrow their ADHD symptoms once they become adults. The rate of persistent ADHD into adulthood varies widely across longitudinal studies — but probably about half the kids who have a childhood ADHD diagnosis continue to have clinically significant symptoms in adulthood. When the symptoms do persist, they usually become milder with age (especially true of hyperactivity). Can ADHD Ever Have Its Initial Onset in Adulthood? The simple and very important answer is an empathic NO! By definition, ADHD has to have its onset in childhood. This requirement is absolutely necessary in order to distinguish true ADHD from all the many other causes of inattention and hyperactivity in adulthood. Why Is ADHD So Often Overdiagnosed in Adults?
  1. Almost all mental disorders and almost all substance addictions can perfectly mimic ADHD since they can cause its two classic symptoms — hyperactivity and trouble focusing attention.
  2. Real or imagined attention problems are a very common complaint among perfectly normal people.
  3. Getting an ADHD diagnosis is a gateway to legal speed — desired for performance enhancement, all-nighters for school tests or work assignments, recreational purposes, or for sale into the extensive secondary ADHD pill market.
  4. Careless diagnosis and prescribing by MDs.
  5. An inevitable consequence of overdiagnosing ADHD in kids is overdiagnosing ADHD in adults.
  6. Promotion via drug companies and social networking.
What Are Current Reported Rates of ADHD in Adults? In general population surveys, the prevalence of current adult ADHD is reported to be 4.4% (males 5.4%; females 3.2%). Estimated lifetime prevalence of ADHD in U.S. (United States). adults aged 18 to 44 years is 8.1%. These numbers are absurdly high — reflecting the fatal flaws in the survey method. These rates are determined by casual telephone interviews done by non-clinicians. There is no careful differential diagnosis to rule out all the many causes of inattention and hyperactivity that should not be labeled ADHD, and to ensure symptoms are of clinically significant severity and duration. What is The Real Rate of ADHD in Kids? The best guide to the “real” rate of ADHD is the view of Keith Conners, considered to be the father of the ADHD diagnosis. He did the first studies on ADHD (even before there was an official DSM diagnosis called ADHD), and continued throughout his long career, until his death a few years ago, to do the best studies and have the most influence on the field. Keith believed the most appropriate rate of childhood ADHD would be about 2-3% and about half that number in adults — just a very small fraction of the inflated rates now reported. Risks Of Overdiagnosing ADHD in Adults:
  1. Meds used for ADHD are usually quite harmful if the person’s symptoms are due to another psychiatric disorder that has been missed — especially bipolar disorder, depression, schizophrenia, eating disorders, or anxiety disorder.
  2. Overdiagnosis of ADHD results in over-medication with drugs that cause harmful side effects and can lead to or worsen addiction.
  3. There is now a huge secondary market for ADHD meds, especially on college campuses.
  4. There is also a nationwide wide shortage of ADHD meds for patients who really need them — because the meds are so often prescribed for those who don’t or diverted to the illegal market.
Proper Differential Diagnosis of ADHD In Adults Before ever making a diagnosis of adult ADHD, there must be a careful evaluation that:
  1. Rules out the possibility symptoms are caused by another psychiatric disorder, substance use, drug side effect, head trauma, or another neurological or medical illness.
  2. Determines that the symptoms had their initial onset in childhood — adult onset of symptoms rules out ADHD.
  3. Ensure that symptoms are severe and persistent enough to cause clinically significant distress and impairment. Most people worry about their ability to focus — this is not sufficient evidence to diagnose mental disorder. Many people have transient episodes of inattention or hyperactivity due to everyday stress — this is also not adult ADHD.
  4. Consider the risk of malingering to get legal speed for performance enhancement, recreation, or resale.

Bottom Line

Most of what looks like adult ADHD is not adult ADHD. Distractibility is ubiquitous in the general population — most of it is normal; sometimes it’s caused by another psychiatric or medical problem or substance use. People who didn’t have ADHD symptoms in childhood should not be diagnosed with ADHD as adults. ADHD drugs are unsafe except when carefully used for accurately diagnosed ADHD. They are currently in short supply for appropriate use because they are so often used inappropriately. ADHD drugs are useful when appropriately prescribed for the few, but harmful when carelessly prescribed for the many. It is past time to stop the adult ADHD fad before it gains even more traction. The harm caused by the adult ADHD fad is great, both for the individual and society. Easy access to legal “speed” has created a large illegal secondary market of diverted pills. ADHD drugs have become the campus recreational drug of choice at parties and the performance-enhancement drug of choice for all-nighters during finals week. Legal speed can cause many medical and psychiatric adverse effects, and emergency room visits for complications are skyrocketing. The Drug Enforcement Agency and the FDA are now trying to contain the epidemic — but their efforts are too little/too late. The adult ADHD fad will be stopped only if clinicians and patients fight against its seduction and insist on more careful diagnosis and cautious treatment.

ChatGPT Asked the Same Question

[Editor’s Note] Once again, Dr. Frances’ granddaughter posed the same question to ChatGPT with the prompt: “What are the dangers of diagnosing ADHD in adults and how best to avoid them (in 500 words)?” “Diagnosing Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) in adults comes with its own set of challenges and potential dangers that need to be carefully considered. While accurate diagnosis can provide individuals with the appropriate interventions and support, the risks associated with misdiagnosis or overdiagnosis are significant. To avoid these dangers, a comprehensive and cautious approach is crucial. Dangers of Diagnosing ADHD in Adults
  1. Misdiagnosis: ADHD symptoms can overlap with those of other mental health conditions such as anxiety, depression, or even medical conditions like thyroid disorders. Misdiagnosis can lead to inappropriate treatments and exacerbate underlying issues.
  2. Stigmatization: An incorrect diagnosis can lead to stigmatization, where individuals might feel labeled or misunderstood. This can negatively impact self-esteem and overall mental well-being.
  3. Overmedication: Misdiagnosis may result in the unnecessary prescription of stimulant medications, which are commonly used to treat ADHD. These medications can have side effects and may be harmful if taken without a valid reason.
  4. Self-Fulfilling Prophecy: Once diagnosed, individuals might attribute all their challenges solely to ADHD, overlooking other contributing factors and hindering personal growth and development.
  5. Masking Other Concerns: ADHD symptoms might overshadow coexisting conditions like learning disabilities, which require specific interventions. Treating only ADHD could leave these underlying issues unaddressed.
How to Avoid These Dangers
  1. Comprehensive Assessment: A thorough evaluation by a qualified mental health professional is essential. This should include a clinical interview, medical history review, and collateral information from family members or close associates to ensure a comprehensive understanding of the individual’s history and current challenges.
  2. Consider Differential Diagnosis: Since ADHD symptoms can mimic other conditions, it’s crucial to explore the possibility of comorbidities. This might involve additional assessments, screenings, or consultation with specialists.
  3. Longitudinal Perspective: Assessing symptoms over time helps differentiate between chronic ADHD-related impairments and situational factors that might be causing temporary difficulties.
  4. Multimodal Assessment: Utilize a combination of assessment tools, such as self-report questionnaires, cognitive tests, and behavioral observations, to gain a holistic view of an individual’s functioning.
  5. Functional Impairment: Focus on the degree to which symptoms interfere with daily functioning in various domains, including work, relationships, and personal responsibilities.
  6. Psychoeducation: Educate individuals about the diagnostic process, potential pitfalls, and the multifaceted nature of their difficulties to prevent over-identification with ADHD symptoms.
  7. Second Opinions: Encourage seeking a second opinion, especially if the diagnosis or recommended treatment plan feels uncertain or uncomfortable.
  8. Collaborative Decision-Making: Involve the individual in the diagnostic process and treatment planning. Discuss the potential benefits and drawbacks of medication, therapy, and lifestyle modifications to make informed choices.
  9. Holistic Approach: Address physical health, sleep patterns, stress management, and other factors that can impact attention and focus. Sometimes, lifestyle changes alone can lead to significant improvements.
  10. Regular Follow-ups: Periodically reevaluate the diagnosis and treatment plan to ensure they remain appropriate as the individual’s circumstances evolve.
In conclusion, diagnosing ADHD in adults requires a cautious and comprehensive approach to avoid the potential dangers associated with misdiagnosis or overdiagnosis. A multidimensional evaluation, consideration of differential diagnoses, and involving the individual in the diagnostic process are key strategies to ensure accurate diagnosis and promote the well-being of those seeking assistance for their difficulties.”

***

Afterword from Dr Frances

The response from Chat-GPT is remarkably good, especially considering that it took it one second to produce while my piece took 90 minutes to write. But ChatGPT did leave out two critical issues:
  1. The requirement that ADHD cannot, by definition, be diagnosed in adults unless symptoms were present in childhood and why this is so critical.
  2. The societal impact of the adult ADHD fad.
All in all, I think my piece is better than Chat’s – but not by much!

When Clients Ask, “What Do You Want for Me?”

“What do you want?”

We therapists are constantly asking people some version of this basic question.

  • What are you wanting to be different?
  • What are your hopes for yourself?
  • This difficult circumstance being what it is (and beyond your control), what do you want to be able to do in the midst of it?
  • This difficult person being who they are (and beyond your control), how do you want to relate to them?
  • What needs to happen?
  • What do you want?
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And people respond:
  • I want to feel less depressed.
  • I want to leave my marriage.
  • I want to stop drinking.
  • I want to feel happy.
  • I want to feel more connected to others.
  • I want to be less reactive and controlling.

Therapists Must Listen for What Clients Really Want


These answers become the guiding force that frames and energizes our work together. And as therapy progresses, and we keep asking “what do you want?” the answers and the focus of our work shift and deepen. “I want to feel happy” becomes “I want to interrupt my ingrained habit of always looking for what’s wrong.” “I want to feel more connected to others” becomes “I want to feel more connected with myself.” Or, “I want to be less reactive and controlling” becomes “I want to learn what it takes, and do what it takes, to feel safe in the world.” And beneath all these answers, beneath the “what do you want?” question itself, is one of the deepest questions of all: “What’s worth wanting?”

So, we keep asking, over and over, “What do you want?” And following our clients deeper and deeper.

Recently, a client turned the question back on me. I’d asked her some version of the question, and she’d responded with a thoughtful litany of hopes for herself and her life. But then she paused, tilted her head, and asked, “What do you want for me?”

Sometimes, of course, people ask therapists (and others) to guide and direct their lives because they lack confidence in their own inner compass. Perhaps they grew up with parents who sheltered them or micromanaged them, and they weren’t given space to grow that confidence. Or perhaps they entered adulthood trusting themselves, but a lot of things have gone wrong, and they’ve come to doubt themselves.

We therapists are careful about giving advice for lots of reasons, but this is one of the main ones: we don’t want, in an effort to help someone through a hard moment in their lives, to send a meta-message that we believe they can’t think and judge and make good choices for themselves. Quite the opposite: we want to respect and nourish people’s trust in themselves, their power to know what’s needed, and their capacity to choose and to act.

This woman, however, had demonstrated these abilities many times, in session and out. She was insightful, intuitive, and brave. So, I did not hear her question, “What do you want for me?” as a flight from responsibility: “Tell me what to do.” I heard it as healthy curiosity: “Tell me how you carry me in your heart.”

And so, I paused, took a breath, listened inside, and said to her: “I want you to be happy and powerful.”

I paused again, to see what else might be there. And I’ll pause with you, too, to say that, by “powerful,” I don’t mean CEO powerful or politician powerful. I mean the ability to gather and concentrate our energy, to plug the leaks that dilute us, and live from a strong and regulated stream of force.

I continued: “I want you to be faithful to who you are and what you know. So many people, you included, have been gaslit — by their parents, by friends, by their employer, by religion, by advertisers — and end up not able to trust themselves and their inner GPS. I want you to be a deep witness to the truth of yourself and your experience, to hear what your mind knows and, even more, what your body knows and what your intuition knows. And I want you to be able to live from all that.”

That was all. I paused and gave her space to absorb what I’d said and, if she wanted, to say how it had landed in her. She looked at me quietly, and I imagined she was doing exactly what I’d just said — listening to herself, weighing the truth of my words against the truth of her own knowing, and welcoming whatever she found trustworthy.

Then she said, “Thank you. I like that.”

And I said back, “Thank you. I like it, too.”

What I liked was twofold. It was, firstly, the experience of connecting with her, which I found deeply nourishing. And secondly, it was the sense I had that, spontaneously and concisely, I’d just articulated my view of what I hope happens for people who talk with me in therapy. I’m hoping they will grow in consciousness and in power. I want to help people witness the truth of their life — their outer life and their inner life — and, based on what they witness, to exercise agency, freedom, and choice.

I’ll close by asking you, therapist or whoever else you are, when it comes to the people you care for, what do you want for them?  

How to Use Inference and Speculation for Psychological Assessment

Is it possible to conduct a psychological assessment and to offer treatment recommendations without ever communicating directly with a client? At the very least, aren’t interviews and history-taking minimum requirements to reach such important conclusions?

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I experienced just such a dilemma when I was asked to provide temporary services at a nursing home in Boston. Thinking it an otherwise easy task, I was soon faced with impossible barriers to communication and was not able to conduct a full assessment — at least not in the traditional way. As it turned out, I could only privately speculate on what might lie beneath the limited information available to me at the time. As therapists, when faced with this type of perplexing clinical situation, it is natural to ask, “What else must be true for this to make sense?”

Psychological Assessment with Limited Information

The facility management were dissatisfied with the work of a prior psychiatric service provider. They wanted continued treatment services for residents already receiving them, an audit of the documentation done by the prior provider, and a review of all residents to identify who might need or be able to benefit from behavioral health services.

This was an old brick building in a residential neighborhood that was now a Catholic nursing and rehab facility, serving the needs of a diverse population. One unit was fully populated by American-Vietnamese citizens, half of whom were Catholic, and half were Buddhist. The TV and newspapers were in the Vietnamese language and there were many staff persons who spoke both English and Vietnamese. On several occasions, a bilingual staffer sat in to translate for my interview with a resident.

One day, I pulled out a new chart from the rack at the nurse’s desk and began reviewing the information. I sat next to the nurse and asked if she thought I could provide meaningful service to this resident. The nurse shrugged her shoulders and said, “They just want to know if each person might need psychiatric medication or anything else you provide.” So, I continued to read through the medical record.

This resident had been a single mother of one son, living in Vietnam during the war. According to the record, she had been “deaf and dumb” from birth. Current records described her as having advanced dementia. How might I communicate with a person whose native language was Vietnamese, yet who had major speech and hearing impairments throughout her life, and who was now incapacitated by dementia?

I walked down the hall to a day room where Mrs. Tran was seated in a wheelchair, wrapped with a colorful crocheted blanket, and her nurse’s aide sat quietly beside her. The aide was keeping an eye on Mrs. Tran and on a few other residents across the room watching TV.

I smiled and introduced myself and my role, and made comments to Mrs. Tran, even though I knew she was deaf. I gently placed my fingertips on her forearm as I spoke to her, yet she continued to sit unmoved, with her eyes closed. I asked the aide if Mrs. Tran was sometimes communicative, but the aide explained that Mrs. Tran did not make eye contact or display any direct type of communication.

“Does she show some communicative responses if you hold or stroke her hand?” I asked.

“No, not really,” the aide said.

“How was it to care for Mrs. Tran?” I asked. The aide smiled and spoke of her affection for Mrs. Tran. She enjoyed taking care of her.

“She’s never a problem,” she explained, and added that Mrs. Tran’s son was a frequent visitor, and that he would bring in things that might be needed for his mother’s care, and that he would often assist with feeding his mother.

Clearly, I could not document an assessment, but what personal speculations might help me peer behind the cloud of the unknown surrounding her history?

As it turns out, Mrs. Tran may have been a remarkably capable, resilient, and praiseworthy individual. She might have even had enormous emotional intelligence and social relationship skills. As a young, single mother raising a son during wartime, and burdened by severe speech and hearing impairments, she might have also been especially effective in connecting and somehow communicating with others in the “village” that it must have taken to successfully raise her son, get him to the United States, and help him obtain his education and develop a full life. The loving attachment and close involvement of her son seemed a clear testament to the success of those conceivable efforts.

But all that I was able to formally and ethically document was that Mrs. Tran was stable and quite well cared for, and that no psychiatric interventions were needed. I was satisfied with that outcome.

Questions for Thought and Discussion

How did the author’s account impact you as a clinician? As a person?

What might you have done in this circumstance?

Do you agree or disagree with the author’s conclusions?