We say we care about mental health in America. But the data—and my front-line experience—say otherwise.
We are overmedicating, underfunding, and pathologizing poverty, trauma, and stress. Instead of addressing why people are sick, we throw pills at symptoms.
🧠 In my latest article for Psychiatric Times, I make the case that we’ve built a system that profits off disease—not health. We’re not solving the problem. We’re institutionalizing it.
If we want to make America healthy again, we need to stop doing the wrong things.
I saw these magnets today on the refrigerator located in the physicians lounge and it seemed like a good reminder
In the U.S., an estimated 300-400 physicians die by suicide each year, a staggering rate far higher than that of the general population. This crisis, largely unspoken in healthcare settings, underscores the immense pressures physicians face daily. The high expectations, long hours, emotional exhaustion, and the stigma around seeking mental health support create a dangerous environment where burnout can quickly spiral into severe mental health struggles.
Physicians are trained to endure, often putting others’ health before their own. But the costs of “pushing through” take a toll. Many feel they cannot safely reach out for help without risking their careers due to institutional stigma around mental health treatment. This cycle of isolation and suppressed emotion can lead to tragic outcomes.
Organizations are beginning to address this issue by implementing wellness programs, peer support systems, and confidential mental health resources, but more systemic changes are needed. Reducing the stigma around mental health support, reforming punitive policies, and fostering a culture of openness in medicine could be life-saving.
Physician suicide affects us all—it robs the healthcare system of dedicated professionals and leaves profound impacts on patients, families, and communities. It’s time to break the silence and actively support those who care for us.
Modern medicine has given rise to a new culture of burnout. As physicians, we are already high achievers—it’s a prerequisite to make it through the intense training. However, this constant push for relentless productivity often leads to feelings of exhaustion and disconnection. In medicine, the focus is always on doing more—seeing more patients, finishing more tasks, and achieving more outcomes each day.
With digital technology, we’re constantly connected, always on call. Patients, colleagues, and administrators reach out through calls, texts, and emails at all hours. The pressure to respond immediately leads to guilt when we can’t meet these demands, even when they’re unreasonable. The result? We push ourselves beyond our limits, sacrificing our own well-being in the process.
This grind leaves little room to rest or tend to our mental health. The importance of downtime is overlooked, even though it’s essential for long-term sustainability in our profession. But it’s time we rethink the culture of busyness and productivity. We need to start focusing on slowing down, with an emphasis on not staying busy for the sake of being busy.
If you’re like me, you’ve probably tried this, only to find your mind immediately wandering to the next thing you need to do. The challenge is real. But to reclaim a deeper sense of meaning and purpose in both our personal and professional lives, we must commit to this change. By slowing down, we can begin to find more peace, love, and joy in our day-to-day activities.
The tragic loss of a 33-year-old ophthalmology resident by suicide is a heartbreaking reminder of the immense pressures faced by those in the medical field. Residency, known for its intense demands and long hours, often leaves little room for self-care, mental health support, and the emotional toll that comes with caring for others. This devastating event highlights the urgent need for systemic changes in medical training and work environments, ensuring that mental health resources are accessible, stigma is reduced, and medical professionals receive the support they need. Our hearts go out to the family, friends, and colleagues affected by this tragedy.
As a doctor myself, I ask you—who hasn’t felt like they’re running on empty at one point or another during their training or career? The #burnout in this profession is as real as it gets. It can destroy your life, ruin time with your family, and, in the worst cases, end your life. Are we really the ones who are sick, or are we just products of a sick society? We need to do better for each other.
This reminds me a lot of the depression question. Patients often tell me, “Dr. Rossi, you don’t know what it’s like to be anxious.”
I usually have a quiet chuckle to myself because anxiety is something everyone experiences. It’s a natural part of life. We all have areas where we feel competent, and others where we feel out of our depth. It’s in those areas, the places where we feel uncertain or inadequate, that anxiety can really interfere with our ability to function.
My most challenging personal experience with anxiety happened during the infamous 4th term of medical school at St. George’s University. By this point, you’ve survived the first year and are well into the second. However, this term is notorious, and it often feels like the school uses it to weed out students—which, in my opinion, is a bit unethical. The structure of my routine completely changed. More requirements, longer lab hours, and less time to study. The familiar rhythm I had relied on to keep up was suddenly turned on its head.
Throughout that term, I was constantly on edge, overwhelmed by the pressure that all my hard work could slip away at any moment. I still vividly remember the first time I experienced a panic attack. It was early morning; I woke up drenched in sweat, my heart racing, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I was scared enough to go to the university clinic, and that’s when I found out it was a panic attack.
That experience taught me firsthand what anxiety truly feels like. It’s not just a fleeting worry—it can become physical, paralyzing, and all-consuming. When I talk to patients about anxiety, it’s from a place of understanding. Anxiety doesn’t discriminate, and it certainly doesn’t mean we’re incapable—just human.
These sensational headlines about near-death experiences coming off antidepressants are becoming far too common. While we must be cautious with prescribing, it’s equally important not to dissuade people from trying medications that could help them.
Yes, some patients experience withdrawal symptoms if medications are stopped abruptly without proper tapering. But many patients do not, and I’ve seen countless cases where people discontinue their antidepressants without any issues. Some may require prolonged tapers, while others can taper off much faster than alarmist articles would suggest.
It’s crucial to remember that while discontinuation can be uncomfortable, it’s rarely life-threatening. We do need to be mindful of how long we prescribe these medications, given they manage symptoms but don’t modify the underlying disease, and the long-term benefits are still debated.
Guidelines for deprescribing are helpful, but dramatic headlines about “nearly dying” when coming off these medications are not only inaccurate but harmful to those who could benefit from treatment. Let’s promote balanced, evidence-based discussion on this topic, focusing on proper discontinuation without sensationalizing the risks.
When treating anxious depression, SSRIs and SNRIs may not always provide sufficient relief. In such cases, I consider adding medications like quetiapine, which has a significant effect size for generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) and is FDA-approved as an augmentation strategy for depression at doses of 150–300 mg. However, due to its side effect profile, it’s advisable to limit the duration of quetiapine use when possible.
Have you ever had one of those weeks where every patient you see could greatly benefit from psychotherapy, but finding them a therapist seems impossible? There are many barriers to accessing mental health care, including inadequate or nonexistent insurance coverage and a shortage of therapists trained in specific types of therapy. For instance, I’m always on the lookout for specialists in dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), but finding even one has been a struggle. Recently, I’ve seen many patients who would benefit far more from psychotherapy than from medication, yet I haven’t been able to connect them with the quality therapy they need. We talk a lot about helping people, but I’m not seeing the commitment to providing effective treatment for our most vulnerable patients.
If you are new to the blog and my social media content, we should start with a brief introduction.
My name is Dr. Garrett Rossi, I’m a medical doctor who specializes in adult psychiatry. I’m board certified by the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology. I’ve practiced in multiple settings including inpatient, outpatient, partial care, assertive community treatment teams, and I provide ECT services.
I make mental health content on multiple social media platforms and each one has a specific style and type of content.
This is where you can find the deep dives on mental health topics including medication reviews, psychiatric diagnosis, and various other topics. Videos can range anywhere from 5-20 minutes and time stamps are available in the descriptions for longer content.
This is where you can find shorter videos and posts on mental health topics. The focus on Instagram is more on mental health advocacy, and myths about psychiatry and mental illness. The content here is shorter but still has a lot of educational value.
This is where you can find more information about my professional activities. I have information about my advocacy work, professional memberships, publications, and is another good place to follow my work. I make frequent posts here as well.
Here I’m not very active and haven’t spent much time but I do update blog posts and other relevant information here as well.
If you have a question or want to get in touch with me, I am most active on YouTube, LinkedIn, and Instagram.
We are building a community where empathy is a central part of the content. The goal is to make psychiatry more accessible, provide education, and reduce stigma associated with mental health treatment.
I think everyone needs a person in their medical training that they bond with and lean on during this difficult period.
Medical training has its ups and downs, the process is filled with highest highs and the lowest lows. There were moments that I loved training and there were moments where I hated training.
I was lucky enough to find a great person to share these experiences with.
We spent many hours discussing psychiatry, what excited us about the field and what worried us about the future. We discussed difficult cases and the drama of residency training. If I ever needed help or someone to cover a call shift last minute, I knew who I could count on.
I could trust this person to have my back and I would do the same no matter what.
I would encourage anyone who is going through this process to find someone who can help them grow as both a physician and a person.
It’s always comforting knowing we can all get by with a little help from our friends.
