Most people turn to the Internet for information when a physical or psychological problem worries them, but people with OCD find its allures particularly irresistible. Seeking reassurance by doing research and comparing their symptoms to others’ is one of the most common compulsions.
The need to find comfort in numbers has led to a proliferation of on-line communities for “subtypes” of OCD, such as harm OCD, relationship OCD, “pure O,” and now, one I’ve only recently discovered, “real-life” OCD. In a previous post, I discussed why breaking OCD into categories based on content is misleading and possibly even counter-therapeutic. When treating OCD, I stress the irrelevance of content. OCD often changes its focus from one theme to another but all its many manifestations share a common underlying cognitive feature: intolerance of uncertainty.
Discussions about so-called “real-life” OCD imply that obsessions about events that actually happened, rather than about future-oriented, hypothetical possibilities, are somehow more valid. Such logic has all the earmarks of an OCD trap!
Is “real-life” OCD real? Is it different from other forms of OCD? Does it require another treatment approach?
The answers are here in my blog post for the Anxiety and Depression Disorders Association.
In the wake of the #MeToo movement, I wrote a post last year about the spate of men I was seeing in my practice who worried about being perpetrators of sexual assault. It struck a chord and prompted many emails to me from men across Europe, where treatment for OCD is limited, saying they’ve been tormented by similar thoughts.
As the piece resonated with so many people, I decided to revise the original for the Anxiety and Depression Association of America website.
You can read it here.
“Many People Taking Antidepressants Discover They Cannot Quit”
Does this headline concern you? If you read the accompanying article in the New York Times and you’re on medication for anxiety or depression, you might feel alarmed. And if you’ve decided to start a medication regimen, you might even change your mind.
The article reflects a bias many people still harbor towards mental health issues and medication: you should be able to deal with your problems by force of will; if you can’t just get on with it, you’re weak. As the Times article suggests, “Daily pill-popping leaves them doubting their own resilience…” Pill-popping? Seriously?
No medication is completely benign. Yet few would question taking drugs commonly prescribed for high blood pressure, seizures, muscle cramps, and infections, many of which can have discontinuation side effects. Clearly, a double standard applies to the pharmacological treatment of psychiatric conditions..
The writer acknowledges that “many, perhaps most, people stop the medications without significant trouble,” but then goes on to relate the personal anecdotes of a handful of individuals who attributed “all the symptoms of withdrawal,” including increased anxiety and insomnia, to medication discontinuation. He neglects to point out one of the most common reasons for deciding to go back on medications for anxiety and depression after trying to come off them: a resurgence of the symptoms being treated.
It’s true, as the article points out, that primary care physicians write the vast majority of prescriptions for antidepressant and antianxiety medications. Follow-up is not as rigorous as it should be, and office visits are typically too short for an adequate assessment of mood changes and side effects. But it’s very misleading to assume, as the writer does, that “a useless [my emphasis] prescription may be continued for years—or a lifetime” because “improvement…is based on the passage of time or placebo effect.”
I’m not in the pocket of Big Pharma. I can’t prescribe medication. I don’t get a kickback from my psychiatrist colleagues for referring patients to them. When someone in my practice expresses a preference for trying cognitive-behavioral therapy without medication, I’m more than happy to oblige—with the understanding that we’ll revisit the decision at a later date if the therapy yields less-than-optimal results.
I believe in helping people find the maximally effective treatment for them. If that means recommending a trial of medication, I’ll suggest a referral to a psychiatrist who can address their concerns fully, monitor them regularly, and work with me to provide the best care.
Medication isn’t a magic bullet. But it can be a powerful tool. Making any health care decision should involve weighing the costs and benefits–with the help of professional guidance and not anecdotal horror stories–to determine the course of treatment.
This blog is intended solely for the purpose of entertainment and education. All remarks are meant as general information and should not be taken as personal diagnostic or therapeutic advice. If you choose to comment on a post, please do not include any information that could identify you as a patient or potential patient. Also, please refrain from making any testimonials about me or my practice, as my professional code of ethics does not permit me to publish such statements. Comments that I deem inappropriate for this forum will not be published.