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Michael Garrett on Treating Psychotic Disorders: Part the First

Back in the early summer, outside the pressures of the academic year, I ordered a half-dozen books on psychosis and schizophrenia, thinking, in my slightly manic way, that I'd have abundant time and energy to "read, mark, and inwardly digest" each of them in great detail (to borrow one of Cranmer's genteel phrases from my Anglican childhood in Canada that doesn't quite describe how I often brutally ransack books like some kind of shameless Vandal), and perhaps even to re-read some of them. 

Well that didn't happen, but I did make steady, though much slower, progress on two of them, including Michael Garrett's Psychotherapy for Psychosis: Integrating Cognitive-Behavioral and Psychodynamic Treatment (Guilford, 2019). xiv+354pp. 

Part-way through the book, I learned on Twitter that Dr Garrett would be leading a 9-hour training workshop on Zoom discussing cases and techniques--both CBT and psychodynamic--for treating patients with psychotic disorders, whom he has had some considerable success in treating over the decades. So I signed up, and just completed it with him in early November. It was very useful in all sorts of ways, and in fact the week after the first session, I had occasion to meet with a heavily delusional patient and the "peripheral questioning" technique Garrett described in both the book and the seminar were extremely useful in beginning to chip away slowly at the delusional thinking. 

What follows, then, are my initial thoughts on the first third of the book (I won't have time profitably and deeply to read the rest until my Christmas break) farced with some comments and examples of his from the training, and my thoughts in response to that.

Garrett endeared himself to me in the first paragraph of the first page of the book in which he said (with no false modesty evident here or in person in our seminar) that "I make no claim to have invented a new therapy." To which let all the masses say: Amen! Alleluia! Blessing and Glory and Thanksgiving Be to Our Author! Later, at the end of ch.1, he will further outline a second important caveat that "I make no claim that the approach outlined in this book will be useful with all patients" (p.26). 

Instead of attempting to invent something de novo, he says his approach in the book will be to "fix two existing therapies together" (p.1). This he does by drawing in a careful and respectful way on longstanding training in both CBT and psychoanalytic methods. For those who are immediately nervous about such an approach, which has been attempted in the past by some apologists for therapy "integration," and often seems to end up trying to jam (one is tempted to write repress) dynamic ideas and practices into a Procrustean CBT bed, rest assured this is most certainly not Garrett's approach. He is, after all, first trained psychoanalytically long before he did CBT training. And second, he's married to the incomparable Nancy McWilliams (to whom he dedicates this book), arguably one of the great psychoanalytic psychotherapists practicing today in the anglophone world, whose praises I sang here

Aware that pulling two traditions together, especially in service of psychotic disorders, may seem a tall order, Garrett rightly says that "psychotherapy for psychosis should be ambitious" (p.1, his emphasis), and a little later on notes that the lack of ambition means many, perhaps most, patients are drugged and given little beyond that to help. Their suffering is relatively unabated by clinicians who are not ambitious enough on their behalf, seeking little more than symptom control via neuroleptics.

Garrett's approach is, as noted, twofold, and in the book and seminar he noted that it is usually important to begin with CBT methods in the first phase of treatment to try to "examine the literal falsity of delusional ideas" before trying, via psychodynamic methods and theory (especially that of object relations) to "examine the figurative truth (specific personal meaning) contained in psychotic symptoms" (p.2). Garrett thus takes his place alongside others we have noted on here who believe that "psychotic symptoms are a symbolic expression of the psychotic person's mental life" (p.3). 

In putting CBT and dynamic practices together, he will later argue in the book that there are "many differences of terminology rather than substance" (p.24). His one caution about integrating them is again the timing, noting that a weakness of dynamic therapists is to interpret the unconscious meaning of symptoms too early in the treatment. Doing so before a well-established foundation of trust is laid means that the therapist is likely to fail to help for the simple reason that "it isn't a clever point of logic that proves the delusion wrong and wins the therapeutic day; rather it is the patient's trust in the therapist" (p.25). 

Also in the introduction Garrett notes that as a prescriber he is not opposed to neuroleptics, but he rightly insists we should be aware of at least two things: first, that "the longitudinal data indicate that in the majority of patients long-term neuroleptics do not restore premorbid functional capacity" and second that "some individuals can recover without medication" (p.4). If treatment should be ambitious, then it should be open to using drugs where necessary, but even more it should be committed to long-term intensive psychotherapy for the latter lacks the notoriously nasty side-effects of neuroleptics. 

To argue for such intensive therapy requires that we counter the "discrediting myths about psychotherapy for psychosis," which he does very smartly and without polemics or fireworks in the the last half of the introduction to the book. I will not repeat those arguments here for I am utterly convinced by them and would regard their demonstration as tedious. But for those who are less convinced (e.g., most of mainstream psychiatry it seems), this is important reading.  

The first chapter begins with challenging head-on another excuse for avoiding psychotherapy with psychosis: that it is too difficult. Au contraire, he says: "it is doable and is often no more difficult than psychotherapy with people who have severe personality disorders" (p.17). I would second this based on my limited clinical experience. I find psychotic disorders more straightforward than the histrionic and borderline conditions I have attempted, with little success so far, to treat.

The chapter ends with Garrett saying something that I find so refreshing about work with psychotic patients: their directness and earnestness. "When a psychotic person talks in earnest with a clinician, there is no idle chit-chat...[or] half-truths and social niceties....The conversation is densely meaningful" (p.26). I find this very true, which is why I find myself greatly looking forward to seeing my psychotic patients.

Ch.2: "Biological and Psychological Models of Psychosis" does not pretend to be exhaustive, but it is wide-ranging and fair-minded enough to give readers with little background a good introduction to various theories. Like other authors, he notes that psychosis often begins with a prodromal period in which things begin somehow to feel 'off.' (This put me in mind of Christopher Bollas' image of When the Sun Bursts which I discussed here.

The prodromal phase may, he told us in the seminar, be brought back to mind in taking a history by asking such questions as "have you noticed any changes in the way your thoughts come to you lately?" Often, he says, patients "hear" their thoughts more than think them per se. Often, too, this phase is marked by a more intense awareness of the environment--its colours are more intense, or its suns and planets (cf. Bollas) more prominent in odd ways. 

In putting this chapter together, Garrett ranges widely, back to Harry Stack Sullivan and Karl Jaspers. An important sign of this prodromal phase, Garrett says, may be found in patients who report no longer thinking their thoughts, but instead "perceiving their thoughts." This, to put it into Fonagy's terms, could be described as a collapse of any ability to mentalize. Or to put it in Lysaker's terms--with which Garrett shows some familiarity at several points in the book--we see the inability to engage in any sort of metacognition. (One of these days, dear longsuffering reader, I will get around to writing about Lysaker's very rich and dense book, which I read nearly a year ago now.) 

As for the question of how to define psychosis--is it a 'disease' that is 'other' than or radically breaks with, common human experience, or is it on a continuum (Ophir's book examines these issues with great skill), Garrett reviews the evidence that "roughly 20% of the general population report transient psychotic experiences of some sort, which indicates that psychotic states exist along a continuum with ordinary mental life" (p.46). I like to scandalize my students by following Bion and altering Freud's famous phrase to say to them that the dream is the royal road to the psychotic mind, and to the extent we all dream, we all experience our own 'psychotic' minds. If nothing else, this claim of mine usually momentarily rouses the sleepers and Instagramers in the back of the room to raise their heads to lodge some desultory protest ("Whaddya mean we're all psychotic?") I laugh at with a little bit of smug sadism. 

Ch.3 advances Garrett's argument that psychosis is "an autobiographical play staged in the real world" (p.58). As compelling as I found this metaphor upon initially hearing it, I challenged him (in an amicus curiae sort of way) in our seminar, saying that I found Bion's argument about "Attacks on Linking" very powerful, and to just that extent wondered how a psychotic patient could link together his or her life in such a way as to mount a play that an audience could follow with some coherence and facility. In our exchange, which was very helpful and cordial, he was able to 'rescue' the metaphor, as it were, by suggesting that the play might make sense and cohere, more or less, to the patient, but of course would do so far less to the 'audience' (clinician, etc.). The job of the clinician, then, is partly to help the patient recover the ability to make sense not just to himself but especially to others, thus overcoming much of the profound isolation that so often marks psychotic disorders. In other words, the recondite meaning of the psychotic play needs, via psychotherapy, to become gradually more and more apparent and understandable to others. 

Also in this chapter Garrett advances his argument that delusions of grandeur exist in part to "fend off self-hatred and shore up self-esteem" (p.68). Thus, instead of rolling your eyes (as Garrett of course rightly said in our seminar a good psychotherapist should not do) at a patient who reports being a messenger of the divine, or perhaps even God himself, we can instead see this as valuable material, testifying to how little self-regard the patient has for him/herself: the more grandiose the delusion, perhaps the more depleted the sense of self.

Following the same logic, MG later in this chapter says that command delusions point to ambivalence in the patient: if they are uncertain about about a course of action, the delusion might resolve this for them in a kind of 'absolutist' way that you can decipher to find the uncertainty behind it. In other words, the more demanding the delusion, the more there might lurk ambivalence and confusion behind it in inverse proportion. 

On the topic of delusions, our seminar noted that one key hallmark here is the background becoming foreground, and things usually not noticed in daily life (e.g., the particular colour of cars in a parking lot) become hyper-salient details, perhaps revealing hidden meaning (apophenia). In addition, any sense of self disappears into the background and thoughts are no longer something I have, but malignant and persecutory outsiders that come to me unwanted and unbidden. 

Finally for this chapter, MG notes that any thespian metaphors are time-limited and prone to instability: "clinicians should not regard psychosis as essentially a static mistaken idea or cognitive bias. Psychosis is more like an ongoing improvisational drama, with unexpected twists and turns in the plot and an expanding cast of characters" (p.82). 

In Ch.4 MG notes that an important thing to keep in mind is that figurative language is almost always replaced by very concrete language and metaphors. We will return to this point later.

Well, that's it for now. I hope to finish the book in December and post the next part then.

Inside Paul Wachtel's Consulting Room

I've only just come across Paul Wachtel, and am slowly trying to work my way through some of his many fascinating books, starting with Inside the Session: What Really Happens in Psychotherapy, about which some thoughts:

Wachtel starts off by noting that it is of course always easier to write about therapy neatly and tidily than describe the actual messy realities on the ground. Like Nina Coltart, whom I have discussed on here in detail, he also notes that a therapist is mostly uncertain most of the time. If you're overly confident you don't know what you're doing he says quite bluntly. 

Wachtel is quite open in this book about his repeated desire to learn from and integrate practices from the diverse traditions of CBT, experiential, systems, and psychodynamics. One concrete way he does this is to look closely at the patient's behavior in daily life: feedback loops and vicious cycles. This unites CBT and psychodynamic approaches: the thought-action cycle. Early experiences, which psychodynamic approaches focus on, are often reinforced by daily behavior today. 

He begins this attempted integration by focusing on what he regards as the central role across all these traditions of anxiety, which Freud after 1926 revised his project to say was the cornerstone, even more than repression. For Freud discovering and unlocking repression seemed to be key as one who saw himself as an archaeologist. 

The typical idea, Wachtel says, that repressed material is not just "forgotten but can be retrieved later," is no longer believed by just about anybody. Rather repressed material can be discovered in disguised forms. 

The therapeutic task is not just unmasking repressed fears and anxiety. It must also grapple with the corrective emotional experience? In so doing, Wachtel says, psychotherapy has undergone a shift from merely unmasking fears to helping the patient bear them.

Wachtel recognizes a considerable body of evidence pointing to the central role of exposure in helping with this task. CBT does this all the time, but Wachtel says it happens in different ways in psychodynamic treatment as well. In the former it is not just a matter of treating immediate thoughts and behavior, and regarding that as sufficient; in the latter it is not just a matter of insight into fears and anxieties, and treating insight as sufficient. Integrated therapy needs and must seek after both. 

In both cases, what is, he says, not often remarked but nonetheless very powerful, is the role of kindness. Wachtel: "the history of psychoanalysis is replete with comments about the importance of kindness, caring, and the offering of the analyst’s more benign vision of what is possible for the patient as a substitute for the patient’s harsh superego" (p.14). This book challenges directly the idea that a clinician should be neutral, aloof, non-gratifying of patient's desires. Instead, "a warmly supportive stance toward the patient is the best facilitator of his capacity to explore previously warded-off thoughts, feelings, and wishes" (19).

This leads Wachtel to recognize that it is insufficient for an analyst or analytic therapist merely to proffer insight, or to insist of facing fears, without providing that kindness out of which the therapist comes to recognize that resistance is not irrational opposition to the therapist, but instead reflects the fact that the patient is terrified. So therapy must give the pt. space and safety to begin reappropriating cut-off parts of his psyche.

The task of the therapist here is to maintain a necessary balance, that is to "root the therapeutic effort in the dialectic between accepting the patient’s experience of the world and helping him to change those features of his assumptive world that are contributing to his pain." One must proceed with a careful hand here, for, as Wachtel continues, "in good part, change is reached by not trying to change the patient, or, more accurately I think, by both trying and not trying at the same time" (p.18). Only after feeling understood can a pt. begin to think about change.

Though written nearly a decade ago before "resiliency" became the buzzword it increasingly is today, Wachtel insists in this book that successful therapeutic change requires looking at positive cycles too. Patient and therapist need to focus on the patient's strengths as key to therapy--not just focusing on pathology.

Wachtel here very much echoes the great Adam Phillips in arguing that "When successful, psychotherapy helps the patient to retell his life story, to provide a different frame and give a different moral to the story. Hence, it enables him to give different meaning to events and experiences." This is a point that Phillips has often made.

Finally, Wachtel notes that a good therapeutic alliance and working relationship can have positive spillover effects in other areas outside the consulting room. 

Happy Birthday!

Welcome to this blog, which will offer regular notes on, comments about, and reviews of books, old and new, in psychotherapy, psychoanalysis, pastoral counselling, and clinical mental health counselling. I will also draw your attention to new and forthcoming books, some of which I may eventually get around to reviewing but others of which are simply posted for your own information.


Taken by me in June 2016 in Vienna at
Bergasse 19.
I have blogged elsewhere for nearly a decade, concentrating in other academic areas in which I have expertise. 

Beyond blogging, I have written extensively for popular and professional periodicals, and peer-reviewed journals in Europe, Australia, Canada, and the United States. I have two books in print, and two more that should be in print by the end of this calendar year or early 2021. In addition, I am working on a book tentatively titled Theology After Freud. 

After a process of careful consideration, including a fellowship at the Chicago Psychoanalytic Institute in 2018-2019, I decided in 2019 to resume clinical training that I set aside (temporarily, I thought) in the late 1990s when, quite unexpectedly, I was offered a teaching position at a Catholic high-school in Ottawa. Up until that point my plan had been to pursue graduate training in pastoral counselling or classical psychoanalysis, but teaching quickly became, and remains, a great love, and I have now done it in three different countries with both high-school and university students for more than two decades.

During all that time, my scholarly research has continued to draw on contemporary clinical and theoretical insights, especially from a psychoanalytic perspective. My most recent book, Everything Hidden Shall Be Revealed: Ridding the Church of Abuses of Sex and Power, draws on Freud and more contemporary psychoanalysts in trying to understand some of the problems within the Catholic Church.

The books to be noted on here will reflect some of my reading and research during the course of my clinical training, but will also discuss many other books besides that, for I read constantly and far more widely than what is assigned in a given course. I will also import reviews I have written elsewhere for several years now, especially of books in psychoanalysis, of which I remain an unapologetic proponent for its therapeutic value in my own life as well as its intellectually compelling explanatory power in many (but certainly not all) areas. 

At the same time, however, I am not an ideologue, and fully recognize--thanks to the works of such as Paul Roazen, Peter Rudnytsky, and Adam Phillips, inter alia, as well, more recently, Jonathan Shedler--the dangers of turning psychoanalysis, or any other therapeutic tradition into an all-encompassing explanation of the human condition or a technique for treating human suffering to the exclusion of all other traditions and perspectives. The conformism of too many psychoanalytic institutes has been destructive and pernicious, but so too has been the blind faith some have put more recently in psychotropics as well as so-called evidence-based treatments like CBT, whose bloated eminence I regard with a wary eye precisely insofar as its apologists seem unconsciously bent on replicating exactly the same political dynamics that turned psychoanalysis into a closed system and an ideology in many places, unwilling and unable to bear legitimate criticism. 

But psychoanalysis, as I have learned from Adam Phillips, Todd McGowan, and Todd Dufresne, at least contains the seeds of undoing its own tendency toward closed ideological thinking. It retains, as the philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre would say, the capacity both for putting itself into an epistemological crisis, and for conceiving of ways by which to emerge from such a crisis.

My formation in and debts to the psychoanalytic tradition broadly and diversely conceived (especially the British Independent/Middle school of people like Nina Coltart, W.R.D. Fairbairn, Harry Guntrip, and D.W. Winnicott) do not prevent me from realizing the huge insights that have been gained since Freud's death just over eighty years ago. I continue to learn from as many traditions as possible--inside and outside the psychoanalytic family--and I am not at all opposed to newer traditions and techniques like, e.g., EMDR, which I have been reading about with great interest for a couple of months now, and about which will write more later.  

One thing I have learned from psychoanalysis is a wariness of system-building and of overly systematic or overly tidy approaches to most things. It has also engendered in me a deep skepticism for romanticism and idealism, and any form of rigid ideological thinking, especially in historiography and humanities scholarship more generally. All this is perhaps best captured in what I regard as a stunning recent book by a Spanish psychoanalyst and Jesuit, Carlos Dominguez-Morano (about whom much more another time). In his Belief After Freud, he writes that the benefits of both theology and psychoanalysis are the same: they disabuse one of the “haughty pretension of having reached ‘the answer.’ Many taxing questions will remain open forever. We are, thus, invited to the healthy asceticism of renouncing total synthesis. The faith that confronts psychoanalysis learns to live and remain in the modesty of tentative formulations” 

This blog will offer a lot of tentative formulations. So do not expect it to be concerned with constructing grand theories or building or defending empires based on any one tradition or technique. It will range freely and widely across traditions and times, looking at what is new and what is old in books published about psychotherapy, psychoanalysis, and counselling, guided primarily by this question: what here is good and will contribute to the healing and flourishing of the human person? 

Thus, this blog will not be anything other than a "loose baggy monster," an eclectic collection of books, an omnium gatherum if you will. Notes and reviews will be posted simply according to what I happen to be reading at any given moment--which is usually not less than six books at least--or what happens to attract my eye in, e.g., new catalogues of forthcoming books from various publishers. 

In the meantime, let us begin this blog's birthday  by going back to say happy birthday to the great man who was born on this day in 1856. It was Freud who taught us--in Auden's words--to "approach the Future as a friend/without a wardrobe of excuses." I look forward to continuing to do that in here in the months ahead. Welcome!