Neurology Center

Part 2 is now out here.

My cat died on Tuesday. She may have been a manipulative psychopath, but she was a likeable one. She was 18.On that note, here's a paper about bereavement.

It's been recognized since forever that clinical depression is similar, in many ways, to the experience of grief. Freud wrote about it in 1917, and it was an ancient idea even then. So psychiatrists have long thought that symptoms, which would indicate depression in someone who wasn't bereaved, can be quite normal and healthy as a response to the loss of a loved one. You can't go around diagnosing depression purely on the basis of the symptoms, out of context.

On the other hand, sometimes grief does become pathological - it triggers depression. So equally, you can't just decide to never diagnose depression in the bereaved. How do you tell the difference between "normal" and "complicated" grief, though? This is where opinions differ.

Jerome Wakefield (of Loss of Sadness fame) and colleagues compared two methods. They looked at the NCS survey of the American population, and took everyone who'd suffered a possible depressive episode following bereavement. There were 156 of these.

They then divided these cases into "complicated" grief (depression) vs "uncomplicated" grief, first using the older DSM-III-R criteria, and then with the current DSM-IV ones. Both have a bereavement exclusion for the depression criteria - don't diagnose depression if it's bereavement - but they also have criteria for complicated grief which is depression, exclusions to the exclusion.

The systems differ in two major ways: the older criteria were ambiguous but at the time, they were generally interpreted to mean that you needed to have two features out of a possible five; prolonged duration was one of the list and anything over 12 months was considered "prolonged". In DSM-IV, however, you only need one criterion, and anything over 2 months is prolonged.

What happened? DSM-IV classified many more cases as complicated than the older criteria - 80% vs 45%. That's no surprise there because the criteria are obviously a lot broader. But which was better? In order to evaluate them, they compared the "complicated" vs "normal" episodes on six hallmarks of clinical depression - melancholic features, seeking medical treatment, etc.

They found that "complicated" cases were more severe under both criteria but the difference was much more clear cut using DSM-III-R.

Wakefield et al are not saying that the DSM-III-R criteria were perfect. However, it was better at identifying the severe cases than the DSM-IV, which is worrying because DSM-IV was meant to be an improvement on the old system.

Hang on though. DSM-V is coming soon. Are they planning to put things back to how they were, or invent an even better system? No. They're planning to, er, get rid of the bereavement criteria altogether and treat bereavement just like non-bereavement. Seriously. In other words they are planning to diagnose depression purely on the basis of the symptoms, out of context.

Which is so crazy that Wakefield has written another paper all about it (he's been busy recently), which I'm going to cover in an upcoming post. So stay tuned.

Wakefield JC, Schmitz MF, & Baer JC (2011). Did narrowing the major depression bereavement exclusion from DSM-III-R to DSM-IV increase validity? The Journal of nervous and mental disease, 199 (2), 66-73 PMID: 21278534

Many of the best things in life are terrible.


We all know about the fun to be found in failure, as exemplified by Judge A Book By Its Cover and of course FailBlog. The whole genre of B-movie appreciation is based on the maxim of: so bad, it's good.

But could the same thing apply to psychotherapies?

Here's the argument. Freudian psychoanalysis is a bit silly. Freud had pretensions to scientific respectability, but never really achieved it, and with good reason. You can believe Freud, and if you do, it kind of make sense. But to anyone else, it's a bit weird. If psychoanalysis were a person, it would be the Pope.

By contrast, cognitive-behavioural therapy is eminently reasonable. It relies on straightforward empirical observations of the patient's symptoms, and on trying to change people's beliefs by rational arguments and real-life examples ("behavioural experiments"). CBT practitioners are always keen to do randomized controlled trials to provide hard evidence for their success. CBT is Richard Dawkins.

But what if the very irrationality of psychoanalysis is its strength? Mental illness is irrational. So's life, right? So maybe you need an irrational kind of therapy to deal with it.

This is almost the argument advanced by Robert Rowland Smith in a short piece In Defence of Psychoanalysis:

...The irony is that in becoming more “scientific”, CBT becomes less therapeutic. Now, Freud himself liked to be thought of as a scientist (he began his career in neurology, working on the spinal ganglia), but it’s the non-scientific features that make psychoanalysis the more, not the less, powerful.

I’m referring to the therapeutic relationship itself. Although like psychoanalysis largely a talking cure, CBT prefers to set aside the emotions in play between doctor and patient. Psychoanalysis does the reverse. To the annoyance no doubt of many a psychoanalytic patient, the very interaction between the two becomes the subject-matter of the therapy.

The respected therapist and writer Irvin Yalom, among others, argues that depression and associated forms of sadness stem from an inability to make good contact with others. Relationships are fundamental to happiness. And so a science that has the courage to include the doctor’s relationship with the patient within the treatment itself, and to work with it, is a science already modelling the solution it prescribes. What psychoanalysis loses in scientific stature, it gains in humanity.

Electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) is the oldest treatment in psychiatry that's still in use today. ECT uses a brief electrical current to induce a generalized seizure. No-one knows why, but in many cases this rapidly alleviates depression - amongst other things.

The problem with ECT is that it may cause memory loss. It's hotly debated how serious of a problem this is, and most psychiatrists agree that the risk is justified if the alternative is untreatable illness, but it's fair to say that whether or not it's not as bad as some people believe, the fear that it might be, is the main limitation to the use of the treatment.

Wouldn't it be handy if there was a way of getting the benefits of ECT without the risk of side effects? To that end, people have tried tinkering with the specifics of the electrical stimulation - the frequency and waveform of the current, the location of the electrodes, etc. - but unfortunately it seems like the settings that work best, tend to be the ones with the most side effects.

Enter magnetic seizure therapy (MST). As the name suggests, this is like ECT, except it uses powerful magnets, instead of electrical current, to cause the seizures. In fact though, the magnets work by creating electrical currents in the brain by electromagnetic induction, so it's not entirely different.

MST is thought to be more selective than ECT, in that it induces seizures in the surface of the brain - the cerebral cortex - but not the hippocampus, and other structures buried deeper in the brain, which are involved in memory.

It was first proposed in 2001, and since then it's been tested in a number of very small trials in monkeys and people. Now a group of German psychiatrists say that it's as effective as ECT, but with fewer side effects, in a new trial of 20 severely depressed people. Ironically, they work on Sigmund Freud Street, Bonn. I am not sure what Freud would say about this.

The trial was randomized, but not blinded: it's hard to blind people to this because the equipment used looks completely different. Nor was there a placebo group. All the patients had failed to improve with multiple antidepressants, and psychotherapy in almost all cases, and were therefore eligible for ECT. If anything, the MST group were slightly more ill than the ECT group at baseline.

The ECT they used was right unilateral. This is probably not quite as effective as stimulation which targets both sides of the brain (bitemporal or bifrontal), but has fewer side-effects.

So what happened? After 12 sessions, MST and ECT both seemed to work, and they were equally effective on average. Some patients got much better, some only got a bit better.

What about side effects? MST was noticeably "gentler", in that it didn't cause headaches or muscle pain, and people recovered from the seizures much faster (2 minutes vs 8 minutes to reorientation) after MST. This may have been because the seizures (as assessed using EEG) were less intense.

In terms of the all-important memory and cognitive side effects, however, it's not clear what was going on. They used a whole bunch of neuropsychological tests. In some of them, people got worse over the course of the sessions. In others, they got better. But in several, the scores went up and down with no meaningful pattern. If anything the MST group seemed to do a bit better but to be honest it's impossible to tell because there's so much data and it's so messy.

Unfortunately the tests they used have been criticized for not picking up the kinds of memory problems that some ECT patients complain of e.g. the "wiping" of old memories. For some reason they didn't just ask people whether they felt their memory was damaged or not.

Overall, this trial confirms that MST is a promising idea, but it remains to be seen whether it has any meaningful advantages over old school shock therapy...

Kayser S, Bewernick BH, Grubert C, Hadrysiewicz BL, Axmacher N, & Schlaepfer TE (2010). Antidepressant effects, of magnetic seizure therapy and electroconvulsive therapy, in treatment-resistant depression. Journal of psychiatric research PMID: 20951997

Freud's The Interpretation of Dreams is a very long book but the essential theory is very simple: dreams are thoughts. While dreaming, we are thinking about stuff, in exactly the same way as we do when awake. The difference is that the original thoughts rarely appear as such, they are transformed into weird images.

Only emotions survived unaltered. A thought about how you're angry at your boss for not giving you a raise might become a dream where you're a cop angrily chasing a bank robber, but not into one where you're a bank robber happily counting his loot. By interpreting the meaning of dreams, the psychoanalyst could work out what the patient really felt or wanted.

The problem of course is that it's easy to make up "interpretations" that follows this rule, whatever the dream. If you did dream that you were happily counting your cash after failing to get a raise, Freud could simply say that your dream was wish-fulfilment - you were dreaming of what you wanted to happen, getting the raise.

But hang on, maybe you didn't want the raise, and you were happy not to get it, because it supported your desire to quit that crappy job and find a better one...

Despite all that, since reading Freud I've found myself paying more attention to my dreams (once you start it's hard to stop) and I've found that his rule does ring true: emotions in dreams are "real", and sometimes they can be important reminders of what you really feel about something.

Most of my dreams have no emotions: I see and hear stuff, but feel very little. But sometimes, maybe one time in ten, they are accompanied by emotions, often very strong ones. These always seem linked to the content of the dream, rather than just being random brain activity: I can't think of a dream in which I was scared of something that I wouldn't normally be scared of, for example.

Generally my dreams have little to do with my real life, but those that do are often the most emotional ones, and it's these that I think provide insights. For example, I've had several dreams in the past six months about running; in every case, they were very happy ones.

Until several months ago I was a keen runner but I've let this slip and got out of shape since. While awake, I've regretted this, a bit, but it wasn't until I reflected on my dreams that I realized how important running was to me and how much I regret giving it up.

While awake, we're always thinking about things on multiple levels: we don't just want X, we think "I want X" (not the same thing), and then we go on to wonder "But should I want X?", "Why do I want X?", "What about Y, would that be better?", etc. Thoughts get piled up on top of one another: it's all very cluttered.

In a dream, most of the layers go silent, and the underlying feeling comes closer to the surface. The principle is the same, in many ways, as this.

But how do I know that feelings in dreams are the "real" ones? In most respects, dreams are less real than waking stuff: we dream about all kinds of crazy stuff. And even if we accept that dreams offer a window into our "underlying" feelings, who's to say that deeper is better or more real?

Well, "buried" feelings matter whenever they're not really buried. If a desire was somehow "repressed" to the point of having no influence at all, it might as well not exist. But my feelings about running were not unconscious as such - I was aware of them before I had these dreams - but I was "repressing" them, not in any mysterious sense, but just in terms of telling myself that it wasn't a big deal, I'd start again soon, I didn't have time, etc.

The problem was that this "repression" was annoying, it was causing long-term frustration etc. In dreams, all of these mild emotions spanning several months were compressed into powerful feelings for the duration of the dream (a few minutes, although the dreams "felt like" they lasted hours).

Overall, I don't think it's possible or useful to interpret dreams as metaphorical representations in a Freudian sense (a train going into a tunnel = sex, or whatever). I suspect that dreams are more or less random activity in the visual and memory areas of the brain. But that doesn't mean they're meaningless: they're activity in your brain, so they can tell you about what you think and feel.

Note: This post is part of a Nature Blog Focus on hallucinogenic drugs in medicine and mental health, inspired by a recent Nature Reviews Neuroscience paper, The neurobiology of psychedelic drugs: implications for the treatment of mood disorders, by Franz Vollenweider & Michael Kometer. That article will be available, free (once you register), until September 23. For more information on this Blog Focus, see the "Table of Contents" here.

Neurophilosophy is covering the history of psychedelic psychiatry, while Mind Hacks provides a personal look at one particular drug, DMT. The Neurocritic discusses ketamine, an anesthetic with hallucinogenic properties, which is attracting a lot of interest at the moment as a treatment for depression.

Ketamine, however, is not a "classical" psychedelic like the drugs that gave the 60s its unique flavor and left us with psychedelic rock, acid house and colorful artwork. Classical psychedelics are the focus of this post.

The best known are LSD ("acid"), mescaline, found in the peyote and a few other species of cactus, and psilocybin, from "magic" mushrooms of the Psilocybe genus. Yet there are literally hundreds of related compounds. Most of them are described in loving detail in the two heroic epics of psychopharmacology, PIKHaL and TIKHaL, written by chemists and trip veterans Alexander and Ann Shulgin.

The chemistry of psychedelics is closely linked with that of depression and antidepressants. All classical psychedelics are 5HT2A receptor agonists. Most of them have other effects on the brain as well, which contribute to the unique effects of each drug, but 5HT2A agonism is what they all have in common.

5HT2A receptors are excitatory receptors expressed throughout the brain, and are especially dense in the key pyramidal cells of the cerebral cortex. They're normally activated by serotonin (5HT), which is the neurotransmitter that's most often thought of as being implicated in depression. The relationship between 5HT and mood is very complicated, and depression isn't simply a disorder of "low serotonin", but there's strong evidence that it is involved.

There's one messy detail, which is that not quite all 5HT2A agonists are hallucinogenic. Lisuride, a drug used in Parkinson's disease, is closely related to LSD, and is a strong 5HT2A agonist, but it has no psychedelic effects. It's recently been shown that LSD and lisuride have different molecular effects on cortical cells, even though they act on the same receptor - in other words, there's more to 5HT2A than simply turning it "on" and "off".

The works of Sigmund Freud were enormously influential in 20th century psychiatry, but they've now been reduced to little more than a fringe belief system. Armed with the latest version of my PubMed history script, and inspired by this classic gnxp post on the death of Marxism, postmodernism, and other stupid academic fads I decided to see how this happened.

As you can see, the number of published scientific papers related to Freud-y search terms like psychoanalytic has flat-lined for the past 50 years. That represents a serious collapse of influence, given the enormous expansion in the amount of research being published over this time.

Since 1960 the number of papers on schizophrenia has risen by a factor of 10 and anxiety by a factor of 80 (sic). The peak of Freud's fame was 1968, when almost as many papers referenced psychoanalytic (721) as did schizophrenia (989), and it was more than half as popular as antidepressants (1372). Today it's just 10% of either. Proportionally speaking, psychoanalysis has gone out with a whimper, though not a bang.

The rise of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), however, is even more dramatic. From being almost unheard until the late 80's, it overtook psychoanalytic in 1993, and it's now more popular than antipsychotics and close on the heels of antidepressants.

What's going to happen in the future? If there is to be a struggle for influence it looks set to be fought between CBT and biological psychiatry, if only because they're pretty much the only games left in town. Yet one of the reasons behind CBT's widespread appeal is that it hasn't thus far overtly challenged biology, has adopted the methods of medicine (clinical trials etc.), and has presented itself as being useful as well as medication rather than instead of it.

One of the few exceptions was Richard Bentall's book Madness Explained (2003) in which he criticized psychiatry and presented a cognitive-behavioural alternative to orthodox biological theories of schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. Bentall remains on the radical wing of the CBT community but in the coming decades this kind of thing may become more common. Only time will tell...

Psychiatrists give their patients all kinds of drugs, but in most cases, they do so without ever taking any themselves. Some French psychiatrists found an excuse to try out some drugs in the name of science, and the results are published in a paper just out - Besnier et al's Effects of paroxetine on emotional functioning and treatment awareness.

Thirty healthy psychiatrists and clinical psychologists took paroxetine 20mg per day, or placebo pills, for 4 weeks. Paroxetine (Paxil, Seroxat) is a popular SSRI antidepressant - popular with doctors, at least. It has a bad reputation amongst users as causing serious withdrawl symptoms, even compared to other SSRIs. These psychiatrists decided to wean themselves off with a week at a reduced dose of 10mg before stopping completely - after just one month on it! Make of that what you will.

Anyway, what happened? The participants experienced no changes in mood or anxiety, although since they weren't depressed or anxious to begin with, this is not surprising. However, the people taking paroxetine did report reduced "Internal Emotional Experience" as measured with the Emotional State Questionnaire (designed by the same people who ran this study.) That means they were less likely to answer yes to questions like “Do you feel anger when faced with a familiar face with expressed anger?”

This sounds as though they experienced the "emotional blunting" reported by some people who take SSRIs, although it's not clear what exactly this questionnaire is measuring, or how powerful the effect was. The paroxetine group also reported feeling sedated and suffered many more side effects - 70% of participants presented with an adverse event for more than 3 weeks, vs 20% of placebo.

Most described adverse events were psychiatric (sleepiness disorders, libido decreased), gastrointestinal (nausea, diarrhea), or neurological signs (headache).

Jubal Early: You ever been shot?
Dr Simon Tam: No.
Jubal Early: You oughta be shot. Or stabbed. Lose a leg. To be a surgeon, you know? Know what kind of pain you're dealing with. They make psychiatrists get psychoanalyzed before they can get certified, but they don't make a surgeon get cut on. That seem right to you?
- Firefly

Freudian psychoanalysis is the key to treating depression, especially the post-natal kind (depression after childbirth). That's according to a Guardian article by popular British psychologist and author Oliver James. He says that recent research has proven Freud right about the mind, and that psychoanalysis works better than other treatments, like cognitive-behavioural therapy (CBT).

Neuroskeptic readers have encountered James before. He's the person who thinks that Britain is the most mentally-ill country in Europe. I disagree, but that's at least a debatable point. This time around, James's claims are just plain wrong.

So, some corrections. We've got a lot to cover, so I'll keep it brief:

"10% [of new mothers] develop a full-blown depression...which therapy should you opt for? [antidepressants] rule out breastfeeding" - No, they don't. Breast-feeding mothers are able to use antidepressants when necessary, according to the British medical guidelines and others:

Limited data on effects of SSRI exposure via breast milk on weight gain and infant development are encouraging. If a woman has been successfully treated with a SSRI in pregnancy and needs to continue therapy after delivery, there is no need to change the drug, provided the infant is full term, healthy and can be adequately monitored...