The research, drawn from the MONTRA survey conducted in France between 2010 and 2011, analyzed data from 796 women of childbearing age, defined as 18 to 50 years old, all diagnosed with bipolar disorder according to DSM-IV criteria. A randomly selected national sample of 439 psychiatrists, drawn from a registry of 12,000 practitioners, recorded detailed sociodemographic, clinical, and pharmacological information over four consecutive days of routine care. The scale and representativeness of this design give the findings unusual weight for a question that has long been studied only in small, single-center samples.

The headline number is 61.2 percent: the proportion of women reporting current use of effective contraception, as defined by World Health Organization criteria. Effective methods included combined oral contraceptives, progestogen-only pills, patches, vaginal rings, implants, intrauterine devices, female sterilization, condoms, and diaphragms. Withdrawal, notably, did not count. That figure sits slightly below the roughly 70 percent rate reported in the general French population, and within the range of 52 to 73 percent documented in earlier studies of women with bipolar disorder. In a population where unplanned pregnancy carries disproportionate risks, the gap is clinically meaningful.

Why does this matter so much? Bipolar disorder is a chronic, severe condition marked by alternating manic, hypomanic, and depressive episodes, and the perinatal period is a well-established window of vulnerability. Discontinuing pharmacological treatment during pregnancy or after delivery sharply increases the risk of illness recurrence. Meanwhile, some of the most effective mood stabilizers — anticonvulsants such as valproate and carbamazepine, and lithium itself — carry teratogenic risks or interfere with contraceptive efficacy. An unplanned pregnancy in this population can therefore force an agonizing choice between maternal mental health and fetal safety, a choice that effective contraception is designed to prevent.

The statistical core of the new study is a logistic regression model that identified which variables independently predicted contraceptive use. Women aged 26 to 35 were more than twice as likely to use effective contraception as the reference group (odds ratio 2.40), and those aged 36 to 45 were nearly twice as likely (odds ratio 1.92), both highly significant. Education produced the single largest effect: women with higher educational attainment had more than five times the odds of using effective contraception compared with those with only primary education (odds ratio 5.07). Being professionally active (odds ratio 1.63) and not living alone (odds ratio 1.41) also raised the odds, while a greater number of manic or mixed episodes halved them (odds ratio 0.50).

What is striking is what did not predict contraceptive use. The type of bipolar disorder, history of hospitalization, suicide attempts, rapid cycling, and comorbid anxiety or substance use disorders showed no significant association. Nor did the nature of pharmacological treatment. Around 28 percent of the women were prescribed medications with high or intermediate teratogenic risk, yet there was no difference in contraceptive use between those taking such drugs and those who were not. Only 3 percent received valproate, suggesting clinicians generally avoid the most dangerous option, but the absence of any link between teratogenic prescribing and contraception hints that reproductive risk is not systematically factored into treatment planning.

The authors argue this points to a blind spot in psychiatric practice. Previous research has found that a substantial share of women with mental illness — over 32 percent in one cited study — had never received information on sexual education or family planning, and that psychiatrists often avoid the topic, whether because they lack knowledge of contraceptive options, view it as outside their remit, or feel uncomfortable raising it. The new findings suggest that this counseling gap mirrors broader social inequalities: the same demographic factors that shape contraceptive behavior in the general population — age, education, employment, and social support — appear to operate with equal or greater force among women with bipolar disorder.

One novel observation deserves attention. Women who were judged autonomous in managing their illness and their medication were significantly more likely to use effective contraception, even though autonomy did not emerge as an independent predictor in the final regression model. More than a quarter of participants lacked autonomy in illness management, and more than 10 percent lacked autonomy in treatment management, reflecting the well-documented functional impairment that bipolar disorder imposes. If contraceptive behavior tracks with the capacity to self-manage a chronic illness, then contraceptive counseling may need to be tailored to functional status, not just to reproductive history.

The study’s limitations are candid and considerable. The data were collected 15 years ago, before long-acting reversible contraceptives such as hormonal and copper IUDs and subdermal implants rose from under 4 percent to around 10 percent of contraceptive uptake in comparable settings, and before European and global regulators tightened restrictions on valproate prescribing in women of reproductive potential. The cross-sectional design rules out causal inference, the contraceptive data did not specify exact methods, and including women up to age 50 may have captured some in perimenopause. Clinical and functional constructs were not measured with standardized instruments. These caveats temper the precision of the estimates but not the direction of the central finding.

Even so, the public health implications are hard to ignore. Women with bipolar disorder experience higher rates of unplanned pregnancy, adverse obstetric outcomes including gestational hypertension and hemorrhage, and elevated postnatal relapse risk. The authors call for systematic integration of contraceptive counseling and family planning into psychiatric care, closer collaboration between psychiatry and gynecology, and targeted training so that mental health professionals routinely assess reproductive health alongside mood symptoms. In a condition where the stakes of an unplanned pregnancy extend to both mother and child, contraception is not a peripheral concern — it is relapse prevention. The message of this study is that the women least likely to be protected are those already most disadvantaged by their social circumstances, and that closing that gap may be one of the most consequential interventions psychiatry can offer.

Subject of Research: Contraceptive use among women of childbearing age with bipolar disorder

Article Title: Contraceptive use in women of childbearing age with bipolar disorder

Article References: Rodríguez-Toscano, E., de Chazeron, I., Belzeaux, R., Llorca, P. M., & Samalin, L. (2026). Contraceptive use in women of childbearing age with bipolar disorder. BMC Psychiatry, 26(1), Article 773. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12888-026-08348-8

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: 10.1186/s12888-026-08348-8

Keywords: bipolar disorder, contraception, unplanned pregnancy, women's health, psychiatry, reproductive health, teratogenic risk, mood stabilizers, social determinants, perinatal mental health, MONTRA survey, public health

The clinical presentation of dermatitis artefacta is often strikingly atypical. Lesions may appear bizarre, geometric, or linear, and they rarely follow the patterns expected of known dermatoses. Excoriations, ulcers, blisters, burns, contact dermatitis, hematomas, and hyperpigmentation have all been described, and the variety of appearances can be so creative that the condition has been called a great imitator of ordinary skin disease. One of the most useful diagnostic clues is anatomic: lesions cluster on easily accessible body areas such as the face, neck, upper limbs, and trunk, often within reach of the dominant hand. Another hallmark is what the literature calls a hollow history, in which mature-appearing lesions are present at first assessment without any documented progression or evolutionary change, suggesting they did not arise through a typical disease process.

Diagnosis is frequently delayed, and the reasons are structural as much as clinical. Because patients conceal the self-inflicted nature of their injuries and may fear being named and shamed, dermatologists often order repeated investigations and trials of treatment before the factitious origin is even considered. The true prevalence of the condition remains unknown, since non-disclosure and clinical variability make population estimates nearly impossible. Cases have been reported across all ages, genders, and backgrounds, but the disorder is most frequently observed in adolescent and adult females, with estimated female-to-male ratios ranging from 4:1 to as high as 20:1. The review cautions that this skew likely reflects small retrospective case series, differing diagnostic criteria, referral bias, and underrecognition in certain populations rather than a settled epidemiologic picture.

What is increasingly clear is that dermatitis artefacta rarely occurs in psychological isolation. The condition arises from multifactorial causes, often rooted in psychiatric comorbidity and emotional distress, and the self-inflicted lesions frequently function as a maladaptive coping mechanism for internal pain, unresolved trauma, or unmet emotional needs that the patient may only dimly perceive. Some individuals injure themselves during dissociative episodes, while others act more deliberately yet still deny awareness or responsibility. Substance use is more common among affected patients and may amplify impulsivity and emotional dysregulation. In a retrospective review of 28 patients managed in a multidisciplinary psychodermatology clinic cited in the new paper, 46 percent had a concomitant mental health disorder at presentation, with anxiety, depression, and personality disorders representing the most frequently identified diagnoses.

Borderline personality disorder deserves particular attention in this context. It has been reported in patients with dermatitis artefacta and may contribute to the emotional dysregulation and impulsivity that complicate clinical management, although the review stresses that its specific prevalence remains uncertain and that it should be considered one of several possible comorbidities rather than a defining feature of the disorder. Complex life histories, including early trauma and chronic stress, are common antecedents, and coexisting chronic dermatologic or medical conditions can further obscure the diagnosis, especially when wounds heal slowly or psychiatric symptoms are subtle. For such patients, the authors argue, multidisciplinary care is not optional but essential to address both the physical lesions and the psychological distress driving them.

Distinguishing dermatitis artefacta from its psychiatric and dermatologic mimics is a technical exercise with real therapeutic consequences. Neurotic excoriations involve compulsive skin picking, often secondary to obsessive-compulsive disorder or anxiety, but unlike dermatitis artefacta patients typically acknowledge their behavior. Delusional parasitosis produces similar self-inflicted lesions, sometimes accompanied by the so-called matchbox sign in which patients present fragments of skin or debris as evidence of infestation, yet the driver is a fixed delusional belief rather than a voluntary behavior aimed at assuming the sick role. Malingering involves self-injury for clear external incentives such as financial gain, whereas Munchausen syndrome, the severe form of factitious disorder, involves intentional symptom production across multiple organ systems rather than the purely cutaneous manifestations of dermatitis artefacta. Body dysmorphic disorder, meanwhile, drives excessive grooming and picking through preoccupation with perceived appearance flaws. Because dermatitis artefacta can imitate eczema, psoriasis, and acne, thorough clinical evaluation and detailed history-taking remain indispensable.

The management philosophy that emerges from the review is unambiguous: dermatologic treatment alone is rarely successful, and confrontation about the origin of lesions tends to backfire. Open confrontation may provoke anger, shame, or outright disengagement from care, and patients who feel accused often simply move on to another provider, fragmenting their treatment and restarting the diagnostic cycle. Instead, the authors advocate a non-confrontational, patient-centered approach grounded in empathy, trust-building, and consistency, framed within a biopsychosocial model in which dermatologists, psychiatrists, and psychologists collaborate. Shame, self-stigma, and fear of social rejection are common across psychocutaneous disorders and contribute to avoidance behaviors and diminished quality of life, which makes the tone of the first clinical encounter disproportionately important to long-term outcomes.

Once rapport is established, structured psychiatric screening gives dermatologists an accessible entry point into mental health assessment. The Patient Health Questionnaire-9 and the Generalized Anxiety Disorder 7-item scale are validated, brief tools for identifying depressive and anxiety symptoms, while the Dissociative Experiences Scale provides a quantified measure for patients with trauma histories or dissociative features. When a formal psychiatric referral is warranted, the way it is introduced matters enormously, because patients may interpret it as dismissive of their physical complaints. The review suggests framing the referral around the well-documented overlap between chronic inflammatory skin disease and mental health disorders, positioning psychiatric care as a strategy to improve both skin and mind rather than as a verdict that the problem is all in the patient’s head.

Treatment itself must be individualized, and the review is candid about the limits of the evidence base: recommendations rest primarily on case reports, case series, and expert opinion, because controlled clinical trials in dermatitis artefacta are scarce. Cognitive behavioral therapy may help address mood and anxiety disorders and reduce maladaptive coping mechanisms such as skin manipulation. Acceptance-enhanced behavior therapy may suit patients with mood dysregulation, with reports of reduced self-initiated cutaneous injuries and improved psychological functioning. For those with trauma histories or dissociative symptoms, eye movement desensitization and reprocessing has been associated with sustained dermatologic improvement and emotional resolution of trauma-induced distress. Psychodynamic therapy may benefit patients whose depression, trauma, or anxiety is prominent, and case reports describe its usefulness in adjacent body-focused repetitive behaviors such as trichotillomania and nail biting. When psychotherapy alone is insufficient and psychiatric comorbidity causes significant morbidity, pharmacologic options come into play: selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors are favored for their efficacy in depression and anxiety and their favorable side effect profile, while case reports suggest mood stabilizers may reduce dissociative episodes and self-harm in patients with underlying affective or personality disorders.

The review closes with a sober assessment of what the field still lacks. No controlled trials exist, standardized diagnostic approaches are missing, and heterogeneous presentations continue to delay recognition, so the authors call for prospective multicenter studies, better characterization of psychiatric comorbidities, and formal evaluation of multidisciplinary psychodermatology care models. In the meantime, the practical message for clinicians is that effective management extends well beyond the resolution of skin lesions. Long-term follow-up should monitor psychiatric symptoms, psychosocial stressors, treatment adherence, and recurrence, with timely adjustment of therapy as circumstances change. Relapse is common, and the single most protective factor appears to be a sustained, trust-based therapeutic relationship that accommodates patients through the fluctuating course of this psychologically driven condition. Recognizing dermatitis artefacta as fundamentally psychocutaneous, and integrating dermatologic and psychiatric care from the first suspicion through years of follow-up, may be the difference between a patient lost to repeated referrals and one who finally begins to heal.

Subject of Research: Psychiatric comorbidities and treatment strategies in dermatitis artefacta, a factitious psychodermatologic disorder

Article Title: Psychiatric comorbidities and treatment strategies in dermatitis artefacta: a narrative review

Article References: Park, I., Bayrouti, A., MacIntyre, D., Awad, C., & Nguyen, M. O. (2026). Psychiatric comorbidities and treatment strategies in dermatitis artefacta: a narrative review. Archives of Dermatological Research, 318(1), Article 479. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00403-026-04973-1

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: 10.1007/s00403-026-04973-1

Keywords: dermatitis artefacta, psychodermatology, factitious disorder, psychiatric comorbidities, self-inflicted skin lesions, cognitive behavioral therapy, SSRIs, EMDR, borderline personality disorder, mood stabilizers, psychodynamic therapy, multidisciplinary care