Ironic. Dr. Daniel Carlat would like a return to the psychiatry that failed to prevent his mother's suicide.

Fewer than 5% of people who die by suicide have psychiatric medication in their system. There is an under use of these medications, and undertreatment of serious conditions. Among those prescribed medication, there is a high rate of non-adherence. One would like to know more of what happened to Dr. Carlat's mother. The idea that paranoia is treatable with talk therapy is not viable. One may also consider suicidality as a form of delusion, a belief that death will solve one's problems and that one will never enjoy life again. For those reasons, one hopes that she was prescribed a neuroleptic tranquilizer, and that she continued to take it. This useful technical information is not provided.


“So Dr. Freud, the causes are all in the brain? Isn’t there some explanation in my childhood?” It was a good-natured tease.

“I specialize in prescribing medications,” I said with a smile. I was a psychopharmacologist and specialized in medication rather than psychotherapy. “I can refer you to a good therapist in the area if you’d like.”

After J.J. left my office, I realized, uncomfortably, that somehow, over the course of the decade following my residency, my way of thinking about patients had veered away from psychological curiosity. Instead, I had come to focus on symptoms, as if they were objective medical findings, much the way internists view blood-pressure readings or potassium levels. Psychiatry, for me and many of my colleagues, had become a process of corralling patients’ symptoms into labels and finding a drug to match.

Leon Eisenberg, an early pioneer in psychopharmacology at Harvard, once made the notable historical observation that “in the first half of the 20th century, American psychiatry was virtually ‘brainless.’ . . . In the second half of the 20th century, psychiatry became virtually ‘mindless.’ ” The brainless period was a reference to psychiatry’s early infatuation with psychoanalysis; the mindless period, to our current love affair with pills. J.J., I saw, had inadvertently highlighted a glaring deficiency in much of modern psychiatry. Ultimately, his question would change the way I thought about my field, and how I practiced.

I originally became interested in psychiatry primarily because of my father: he is a psychiatrist practicing in San Francisco. But there was a darker side to my career choice. My mother suffered severe mental illness, with debilitating depressions and paranoid thoughts. One autumn day during my junior year in college, she committed suicide. Psychiatry then became personal, a way for me to come to terms with her illness.