As of this month, Christie, the founder of DBT UK, is working in partnership with Jewish organisations to run a group exclusively for the strictly Orthodox community. In so doing, he is keeping a promise he made to his late mother who was born in an Orthodox family in East Ham, in London. One of 15 children, her son describes her as a “rebel child” who “flitted in and out of” the Orthodox world throughout her life. In fact, Christie’s father is not Jewish.
“In her later years, she’d tell me I should do something for my community, my people. In fact, she made me promise I’d set something up,” he says.
It’s no secret the NHS is struggling to deal with the demand for mental health services. A large-scale survey by the Care Quality Commission (CQC) last year revealed that one in three people wait more three months for their first treatment and more than four in ten say their mental health deteriorated while they were waiting. Another study by Rethink Mental Illness last year revealed people are eight times more likely to wait for more than 18 months to be treated for mental illness than they are for a physical complaint.
But for Christie’s clients, it’s about more than the waiting times. “They keep coming back and nothing’s helping,” he says “They’re going to A&E, they’re going to GPs, they’re going to community mental health teams; they’re having inpatient treatments, outpatient treatments.”
In other words, DBT can succeed where all other interventions have failed. The model was created by pioneering American psychologist Marsha Linehan, who had her own battles with mental illness. Christie trained under Linehan and brought her methods back to the UK.
Before the new group was set up, Jews were already finding their way to Christie and his team at DBT UK, through his partnership with Jewish organisations such as Pathwell, Relief, Kids First and Noa Girls. And around one in five of his Jewish clientele are frummers from London, Manchester and the North East.
In her later years, my mum would tell me I should do something for my community, my people
“Their patterns of behaviour are the same as anyone else who has emotional dysregulation, but in their case there’s also a moral certainty and rigidity in terms of their respect for the family and religious teachings,” he says.
The new group has been established in collaboration with some of these existing partners, including the mental health referral service Relief whose director is Rabbi Jonny Ross.
“Darryl and I spoke about whether there might be a market for a frum group, and I thought there absolutely is,” he says.
He adds that Relief works with a range of Jewish and non-Jewish therapists and that when they are assessing the therapy needs of someone who is religious they ask if they if it’s important for them to be seen by someone from the same background. If they reply yes, his next question is: why? “And sometimes it’s because they don’t feel they’ll be understood otherwise.”
For his part, Christie, who describes himself as “not particularly religious either way,” thinks having had a once-frum mother is a definite help.“I have strong ties through the food and through the culture and always know what’s going on,” he says. “This lets me sit down and talk to them properly.”
Photo: Gary Manhine[Missing Credit]
The “gold standard”, as he puts it, of DBT is for patients to have both group and one-to-one therapy, as well as access to telephone crisis support. And he also recommends family support groups.
“The families, religious or not, are usually, and invariably out of love and fear, doing everything wrong and that reinforces the individual’s behaviour,” he says. “They assume that because this is the child they raised they know best, but children’s personalities change dramatically between ten and 16. You need to learn how to ask your child to do things differently, to know when to confront them and when not to.
“It can feel counter-intuitive process because you are sometimes withholding, taking a step back and letting your loved one find their own way. Families can often react and respond too quickly and it’s almost always counterproductive. However difficult it can feel, sometimes you need to let the person you love find their own way, even if it results in short-term pain.”
DBT is also often described as “irreverent,” he says. “The groups can be hilarious and it’s normal for people to laugh out loud in them.
“We’re not trying to do what is sometimes called safe space therapy,” he says. “We’re trying to do ‘brave space’. If people can live with that [seeming] contradiction there’s a chance of peace and contentment for them.”
To this end, Christie describes his approach as “direct, challenging and confrontational”. And his language is colourful, to put it mildly. Swearing is par for the course.
Or, as Rabbi Ross puts it. “What’s a stronger way of saying colourful? Luminous. His language is luminous! It is not for the faint-hearted.”
Which, it hardly needs stating, is not what you expect from a therapist who treats patients with seriously complex mental health problems, including those from religious backgrounds.
“My style is very deliberate, very calculated and, crucially, is born out of experience,” says Christie. “It doesn’t work for everyone but it does work for 90 per cent of of people. If I adopted a softly, softly approach, I’d ‘catch’ 60 per cent of them.”
“Darryl doesn’t work for everybody in the Orthodox community but for some he really does work very, very well,” says the rabbi.
Clients are generally referred privately but they are sometimes also seen pro bono. Either way, they should not expect a quick fix. But when DBT works, sometimes after a few months, it really does, says Christie.
“Data shows outstanding results when it comes to managing personal difficulties, as well as relationship challenges and family dynamics, he says. “What breaks my heart is to see people that are going to suffer for a lifetime when they don’t need to,” he says
As well as treating patients, Christie also coaches other therapists, including Rabbi Ross. “It was brilliant,” he says.
And some of the therapists he works with have even been through the DBT.
“Sometimes people moan that DBT is a cult,” he says. “I will reply: absolutely, it’s a cult. But most cults often end up with everyone killing themselves and this one ends up with everyone wanting to be alive.”
