Mental health

Mental health

Considerations under review by expert subcommittees include broadening the factors used to determine diagnosis; integrating dimensional elements, such as severity, into categorical descriptions; expanding the potential for future discoveries of biological determinants; aligning the DSM with the World Health Organization's International Classification of Diseases (ICD); and reducing stigma. Since the gathering of statistics is no longer a primary goal, a name adjustment for DSM has also been contemplated-Diagnostic and Scientific Manual.

It started off as a normal Tuesday. On 25 March 2025 I reviewed applications from university students applying for a summer research position at my lab. I told friends I would bring pastries from Harvard Square for the Friday dinner we were planning. I finalized my schedule for an upcoming child development conference. I worked on my dissertation proposal. The day was busy but not unusual until I left home after quickly dressing for an iftar dinner at the interfaith center.

A major review of North Kerry Camhs has found there was a risk of moderate or major harm in respect of more than half of the cases on the service's books in 2022. The shocking findings were made in respect of 197 out of 374 case files - a rate of 53pc - reviewed by a team of consultant psychiatrists, while risk of minor harm was identified in 12 further cases.

If you've spent enough time in workplaces, on boards, or in other community organizations, you've probably had that moment where your stomach tightens in a meeting and you're not entirely sure why. A comment lands sideways. A tone shifts. Someone interrupts you for the third time. You walk away replaying the exchange, wondering whether you imagined it or whether something subtle but unmistakable just happened. That confusion is often the first sign you're dealing with a workplace bully.

If you're watching the Olympics this year, or have watched in the past, you've probably wondered how the top athletes in the world bolster themselves emotionally for high- stress situations, being exposed and visible to millions of viewers in difficult moments, and how they deal with failure and defeat and become resilient. Dr. Cindra Kamphoff, whose MD-level background in sports psychology, two decades of work with professional and Olympic athletics, and The High Performance Mindset podcast, has developed techniques that are helpful to people inside or outside of the sports arena.

The standard explanation is that ketamine blocks NMDA receptors. These receptors bind glutamate, which is a chemical messenger found throughout the brain and body. By blocking NMDA receptors, ketamine increase "brain-derived neurotrophic factor" (BDNF), a protein which I refer to as "Miracle-Grow for the brain." BDNF promotes neuroplasticity-which is the growth of new connections (synapses) in the brain. This has traditionally been viewed as the primary mechanism responsible for ketamine's therapeutic benefits. But ketamine does so much more!

This article reviews how these effects require looking beyond surface-level concerns to examine how teens actually use the platform, what content they encounter, and how their individual vulnerabilities shape their experiences. TikTok's algorithm operates differently from other social media platforms. Rather than relying primarily on social connections, it uses sophisticated machine learning to deliver an endless stream of content tailored to each user's preferences. This creates what neuroscientists call a variable reward schedule, the same mechanism that makes slot machines so addictive.

Growing up, I became an expert at reading the room before I even knew what that meant. When my parents' voices would rise from the kitchen, I'd already be mentally preparing my peacekeeping strategy. Should I crack a joke to break the tension? Distract them with a question about homework? Or maybe just quietly start doing the dishes to remind them I was there? By the time they divorced when I was twelve, I'd spent years perfecting the art of emotional regulation.

I spent about twenty years being confused about what emotional maturity actually meant. I thought it meant not getting angry. Or getting angry but being nice about it. It meant saying "I hear you" and "let me understand where you're coming from" and generally performing a kind of emotional competence that made other people feel validated. I was pretty good at it, actually. People liked me. I didn't blow up at anyone. I solved problems collaboratively. I was emotionally intelligent, or so I thought.

Almost all Americans are familiar with posttraumatic stress disorder ( PTSD) and its long-term, sometimes devastating effects on people's lives-crippling anxiety, depression, disturbing flashbacks, sleep problems, irritability, concentration difficulties, and much, much more. About 70 percent of U.S. adults have experienced at least one major life trauma. The fact that so many of us experience trauma makes it easier to empathize with the 10 or so percent of people who go on to develop PTSD.

My stomach twisted into that familiar knot-the one I got every time someone asked me for something. The one that whispered, "If you say no, they won't love you anymore." But something was different this time. Maybe it was because I'd just left therapy, where I'd spent the entire session crying about how exhausted I was. Maybe it was because I'd canceled that same therapy appointment three times in the past two months to help other people.

Or the one who grabs coffee nearby because they arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes before your lunch date? I used to think they were just anxious or had terrible time management skills that made them overcompensate. But after interviewing over 200 people for various articles, I've noticed something fascinating: the consistently early arrivals tend to be the same people who seem to have their lives remarkably together.

I took a psychiatry class years ago, and during lectures my professor used to say, " We all have a diagnosis." We used to laugh at that. It sounded provocative. But what if he wasn't joking? What if diagnosis is not something "they" have, but something that exists on a spectrum we all live on? When we started our practice at a psychiatric facility, I saw an unsettling scene in the hallway.

Once, after surviving yet another round of redundancies in a former job, I did something very odd. I turned off the lights in my room and lay face-down on the bed, unable to move. Rather than feeling relief at having escaped the axe, I was exhausted and numb. I'm not the only one. Fatigue, apathy and hopelessness are all textbook signs of burnout, a bleak phenomenon that has come to define many of our working lives.

I took it upon myself to be that person in the hospital every single day chasing doctors, taking notes, making sure I understood why they were doing things. It was so stressful, she says, that at one point her hair started falling out, but she ploughed on. It was Jones's therapist who gently questioned whether she was going to ask for help. Jones laughs. The hair falling out didn't suggest to me that I needed help, it was somebody else looking in and saying that.

Tunnel vision happens when your mind zooms in on a single "threat cue" and filters out everything else. In this case, the threat cue might be: "He was young." "It was cancer." "It seemed sudden." "He probably didn't see it coming." Your mind grabs onto these details and begins building a narrative: "Cancer is everywhere." "People are dying young all the time." "It's inevitable that I'll get something serious." "If I do get sick, there will be nothing I can do."

Statistics show that about one-third of people with depression achieve remission-meaning their symptoms are gone-with traditional antidepressant medications. This matched my experience treating people, and I had grown to accept that this was as good as it gets. Although I wasn't thrilled with the fact that many people continued to struggle with significant symptoms of persistent depression, it seemed this was as good as we could do.

Picture this: you're clearing out your office after four decades, packing away the nameplate that's defined you for longer than your kids have been alive. The company logo on your coffee mug suddenly feels foreign. That moment when security takes back your keycard? It hits differently when you've held it since the Reagan administration. I witnessed this exact scene when my father retired from sales management after thirty years. The man who'd taught me how to read quarterly reports over breakfast suddenly didn't know what to do with his mornings.