The Scottish Mail on Sunday

The f irst thing I ask patients is: What was happening in your life when the problem started?

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father was a banker, her mother stayed at home. And yet her parents were in turns distant and abusive, striking the children for even the most minor indiscreti­ons, and arguing violently with each other.

‘Dad wanted me to play the violin and bought me a very expensive one – I know it was because he told me so,’ my patient recalled.

‘But when I tried to practise, he would come storming in and yank it out of my hands, telling me I was making a terrible noise.

‘Later, he would berate me for not getting into the school orchestra. But how could I, if I couldn’t play at home? I felt like I was never good enough, and I found him terrifying.’

By the time she was in her teens, her parents had divorced – and her mother was, by the sounds of it, a functionin­g alcoholic. She struggled on at school – achieving good O-levels, then A-levels, and a place at a top university – but noticed scaly, rough red coin-sized patches of skin on her legs, arms, chest and face.

It wasn’t until her early 20s that she plucked up the courage to visit her GP, and was told it was psoriasis. She was given creams but there was no cure, she was told. It wasn’t fatal. It would pass. So best to just get on with it.

WE KNOW THAT STRESS AND TRAUMA CAN AFFECT THE SKIN

OVER the years, the woman had suffered consistent­ly from the disease, which is thought to be due to a problem with the immune system.

In those with psoriasis, the skin cells multiply ten times faster than the normal rate. The excess cells pile up on the skin surface, forming red, raised, scaly plaques that can be painful and disfigurin­g. Patients often have symptoms for weeks or months, which then resolve, only to return at a later date. Psoriasis can affect almost any area of the body, including the face. And it is obviously upsetting.

But there is evidence that trauma does, in some cases, actually trigger the condition.

It has been well establishe­d that long-term stress is associated with a higher incidence of illness such as arthritis, cardiovasc­ular disease, lung disease and cancer. While this is just an associatio­n, other studies suggest a possible mechanism: victims of childhood abuse are found to have altered blood levels of certain chemicals linked to inflammati­on in the body. Similar chemicals are thought to drive skin problems in conditions such as psoriasis.

We can’t say for sure that traumatic events, or stress, are what is behind this or any other disease, and not all abuse victims develop psoriasis. Many people with the illness have lived stress-free lives. But very often, there are psychologi­cal drivers to skin conditions that develop at a time of stress. And a patient’s mindset is integral in how well they cope with the illness, and how badly it affects them.

And that, I suppose, is where I come in.

IT’S DERMATOLOG­Y… BUT WITH PSYCHIATRY AND PSYCHOLOGY

I AM what is known as a psychoderm­atologist. Never heard of it? Well, it’s a relatively new area of medicine; an amalgamati­on of three things – dermatolog­y, psychiatry and psychology.

I trained in psychology before studying medicine. Now, alongside a handful of other similarly qualified doctors at the Royal London Hospital – one of eight specialist units in the UK – I treat patients with skin problems, from the common ones such as chronic acne, eczema and dermatitis to a range of other more unusual conditions.

It is well documented that these very visible diseases can cause patients significan­t psychologi­cal distress. And we can help.

But we are also here to try to weed out the root causes of these diseases, which, we find, often begin in the mind.

Rough, flaky and itchy eczema, which afflicts 15million Britons, can be triggered by anxiety and stress. Sufferers experience low self-esteem, insomnia and depression as a result of their condition, which ultimately exacerbate­s the problem, so it’s a vicious circle.

Itchy, red hives – or urticaria – often appear due to acute anxiety and even phobias.

Acne and depression go hand in hand, while trauma and grief are linked with psoriasis. Again, the same chemical pathways in the body drive mental health problems and reactions in the skin.

More rarely, mental illnesses like obsessive compulsive disorder lead to patients washing excessivel­y – and this results in dermatitis on the hands or all over the body.

Obsessive skin picking also causes ulceration.

By treating the patient holistical­ly – offering treatments for both the skin and mental health problems – we have remarkable success in finding a complete resolution. It doesn’t mean we ignore traditiona­l medical approaches. Patients are typically prescribed creams along with antibiotic­s, immunosupp­ressants and injections to deal with inflammati­on, spots, redness and soreness on their face and body.

But this will be combined at the same time with psychother­apy, which is used to find out the emotional root causes of their skin problem. And techniques including mindfulnes­s and cognitive behavioura­l therapy help them cope better mentally, too.

The middle-aged lady with psoriasis was unusual in that it took only one session to identify a clear link with her mental state and her skin. Often it takes longer.

‘Deep down, I’ve always felt that my skin problems were some sort of punishment,’ my patient admitted. ‘I’m a bad person, so I deserved to look ugly.’ Setbacks in life, such as being overlooked for a promotion, or a relationsh­ip breakdown, had been similarly catastroph­ised. And these events were often accompanie­d by a psoriasis flare-up.

I was able to prescribe a short

course of medication to help with her anxiety. We also referred her for psychother­apy and we gave her medication to help resolve the current skin issues.

I saw her again a few months later, and she was transforme­d.

‘For the first time, I’m seeing a bigger picture,’ she said. ‘I’m not a bad person, even though bad things have happened to me. I don’t deserve to be unhappy, and I don’t deserve bad skin.’

I can’t say she’ll be cured – psoriasis is usually something patients have for life. But what we have done is give her the best possible mindset to cope. And, by helping alleviate her distress, we may actually have prevented further skin relapses.

CONSULTATI­ONS ARE LIKE DETECTIVE WORK

AT THE other end of the spectrum, we also often see patients who, on examinatio­n, have very little wrong with their skin.

I recently saw a man in his late 30s who was very agitated. He said his previous dermatolog­ist had ‘tried everything’ for his rosacea – a skin condition affecting mainly the face, which causes redness, flushing, and sometimes acne-like spots.

But nothing worked and he’d wear dark glasses to cover much of his face. And this meant he couldn’t go out in the evenings. ‘I’m sick of it,’ he told me. ‘No one seems to understand how it makes me feel.’

I’m well aware of the distress skin problems cause. About 85 per cent of dermatolog­y patients say the psychologi­cal aspects of their skin disease are a major component of their illness, according to research – in the UK alone, 300 people are believed to kill themselves each year rather than live with psoriasis.

This man’s face was slightly red. But not particular­ly bad. A typical consultati­on with a psychoderm­atologist usually lasts an hour, and is much more in-depth than a standard first appointmen­t with a regular dermatolog­ist – it’s a bit like detective work.

Patients discuss everything from how well they sleep to how satisfied they are with their relationsh­ips and job.

The majority of patients we see have higher rates of anxiety, depression and low mood.

In this case, once again, discussion led back to childhood.

In his teens, he had been mercilessl­y bullied at school for having acne. He admitted ‘blasting’ his face with spot creams and even had sunbeds, as ‘it dried up my skin’. Although, objectivel­y, he knew that his skin looked much better now, the preoccupat­ion with the way his face looked had never left.

Body dysmorphia, by definition, is a preoccupat­ion with a perceived flaw – and sufferers often seek aggressive treatment for the most minor skin problems.

In fact, we need to tackle their mental state.

We often see severe rosacea, which affects one in ten Britons, many of them stressed-out younger men who are juggling hectic careers, a social life and perhaps a child or two.

The precise cause is unknown and there have been many theories. But we know that many patients find that tiredness and stress exacerbate the condition.

So we can look for an effective treatment, while helping them cope better with the things that are making life difficult, too.

IT’S CRUCIAL TO ASK HOW PATIENTS FEEL

MANY patients find huge relief when we identify ways to help them worry less – even if their skin doesn’t dramatical­ly improve.

And taking seriously just how upsetting having a skin condition is can be helpful in itself.

As my colleague Dr Tony Bewley says: ‘Once we have made a diagnosis, I’ll ask a patient how they feel.

‘Often, their shoulders visibly relax – because a doctor has asked them that simple question.’

Tony recently treated a woman in her 30s suffering from severe acne that had first developed in adulthood.

‘She’d been referred to us as nothing her GP had offered had been successful – and in our first consultati­on she admitted, almost guiltily, that she’d been so depressed she’d felt she couldn’t go on.

‘Alongside strong medication for her skin, we prescribed an antidepres­sant. I knew the acne drugs would work. So our appointmen­ts after that really focused on how she felt about herself.’

After six months, there had been a dramatic change in her skin.

When Dr Bewley first started our clinic in 2002, psychoderm­atology was on the fringes of medicine.

But today, in an era when we’re increasing­ly treating the mental aspects of a variety of illnesses, the speciality is very much part of the conversati­on.

Our waiting list is a year long, though. It’s hard for us, a team of three supported by junior doctors training in dermatolog­y, to keep up with demand.

GPs are well aware of the psychologi­cal factors at play. But it’s normal for my patients to cry during our first consultati­on, because it’s the first time they feel the full extent of their problems have been acknowledg­ed.

For people who have been suffering, sometimes for years, our service can be life-changing.

For emotional help with a skin condition, visit skinsuppor­t.org.uk.

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