Bupa to open two mental health centres in Scotland
The healthcare provider announced last week it was to open 70 across the UK, with the first 20 set to open in 2025.
It can now be revealed two of those will be in Scotland with Dundee and Edinburgh earmarked as areas of the country which will see them introduced.
The centres are a response to rising demand for access to mental health services in the UK with research revealing that one in four adults experience some form of mental health concern each year, which rises to one third of UK employees.
A quarter of UK workers reported a deterioration in their mental wellbeing over the past year, while a third of those affected did not seek any form of assistance.
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It will initially be accessible to Bupa's UK insurance customers before eventually becoming available to self-paying members of the public.
The centres will offer access to face-to-face talking therapies including counselling, psychology, psychotherapy, and Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT).
Carlos Jaureguizar, CEO for Bupa Global, India & UK said: 'As a leading provider of healthcare services to FTSE100 organisations and SMEs across the UK, we know that keeping workforces healthy and in work is a primary concern for employers.
'Since 2020, demand for mental health services has grown exponentially for the workforce and their wider family unit, particularly young people. There is an increasing need for mental health support across the UK and fast access to services has never been more important.
'Mindplace centres will help people get fast access to face-to-face care. They reflect our commitment to prevention, identifying urgent needs amongst our customers where early intervention can lead to better health outcomes. With no shareholders, this reinvestment of our profits enables us to develop solutions that support and mitigate pressure on healthcare systems over the long term.'
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Telegraph
2 days ago
- Telegraph
I spent a month improving my gut health to see if it would calm my anxiety
The phrases 'gut instinct' and 'trust your gut' are born from so much more than a metaphorical flutter in your stomach. In fact, they have roots in the ancient understanding of the gut as a centre of instinct and emotion, with the ancient Greeks believing that the stomach was the seat of emotion. The idea of 'gut feeling' refers to our enteric nervous system – a complex network of neurons that line the walls of the gastrointestinal tract. Sometimes called the 'second brain', this network has over 100 million neurons (which, by the way, is more than your spinal cord) and can sense, process, and respond to information without checking in with your actual brain. Which means that sometimes, your gut really does know what's up before you do. So here is my theory: perhaps, as someone with a high-functioning anxiety disorder, I have been going wrong all these years in treating my 'first' brain, when I should have been treating my second. Since my 20s, I've had a hypersensitive nervous system, with the full spectrum of anxiety symptoms to go with it; adrenaline spikes at the most inconvenient, incongruous times, racing heart, dizzy spells, spiralling thoughts, nausea etc. I've tried pretty much everything to manage it, from cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) to hypnotherapy, meditation apps to anti-anxiety medication. Some things have worked better than others, but I have come to accept it's going to be an ongoing project, but I'm excited about my next tactic. But what does gut health have to do with anxiety? The connection between our gut and brain – otherwise known as the gut-brain axis – is a well-established but still evolving area of study, and recently it's been suggested that increasing your intake of probiotics – the live bacteria that help maintain a healthy gut microbiome – can significantly reduce anxiety symptoms, effectively acting as a form of nutritional psychiatry. It makes perfect sense when you understand that your gut bacteria can influence the release of the stress hormone cortisol, and a diverse and balanced biome helps produce mood-regulating chemicals like serotonin and dopamine. An imbalance can send distress signals to the brain, potentially fuelling anxiety. Naturally, I decided to test this theory out on myself, but I'd need some expert guidance in the form of registered nutritionist Jessica Shand, who would need a snapshot of my current gut health to get me started. What's happening in my gut? I took a StrideBiome test to establish a baseline for my microbiome. Stride uses advanced DNA sequencing to work out the diversity and balance of your gut bacteria (via an only mildly mortifying DIY stool sample), then produces a lab report with insights into which strains of bacteria you have and which you might be lacking. My results showed a few key imbalances, including low levels of anxiety-reducing strains Bifidobacterium and, most notably, a complete absence of Lactobacillus – another critical calming neurotransmitter gamma-aminobutyric acid-(GABA) -producing species that also helps to regulate cortisol, our primary stress hormone. Ah. So this might explain a few things. Armed with this knowledge, Shand helped me work out a gut-brain reset game plan. First up, supplements. She explained that not all probiotics are created equal when it comes to reducing anxiety. 'There are specific strains like the ones you're low on – Lactobacillus rhamnosus and Bifidobacterium longum – that have been shown in some studies to reduce symptoms of anxiety and improve mood,' she told me. 'Research is still ongoing and findings can vary on specific, but these strains in probiotics may help modulate the gut-brain axis by reducing inflammation, influencing neurotransmitter production such as serotonin and dopamine, and enhancing gut lining integrity, all of which are thought to play roles in emotional regulation and therefore anxiety.' What the expert says Shand suggested the Seed DS-01 Daily Synbiotic, a standout in the probiotic world. It combines both prebiotics (the fibres that feed good bacteria) and probiotics (the beneficial bacteria themselves) in a single formulation. This is important because it ensures the probiotics can survive the journey through my digestive system and reach my colon, where they can actually make a difference to support not just digestive health, but also mental wellbeing. It's designed to replenish those missing Lactobacillus and Bifidobacterium strains, boosting GABA production (a naturally occurring substance that's made by our bodies and helps promote relaxation and reduce anxiety) and regulating my cortisol response, therefore (potentially) helping to turn down my anxiety at its biological source. Translation: A science-backed shortcut to a more balanced microbiome, which, for someone like me, is wildly appealing. But it's not just about popping a daily pill. To truly support a healthy brain-gut axis, I need to create an environment where the good bacteria can thrive. That means making some dietary and lifestyle tweaks to set me on the best possible path. Having chatted honestly, Shand understands that I am not a card-carrying member of the Intensive Healthy Lifestyle Club, and so her advice is to make realistically achievable changes. To be sustainable, my habits need to be 'better than', rather than drastically overhauled, ie definitely not a strict overhaul that might add to my anxiety overwhelm. What aiming for 'better than' looks like 'Have the coffee! You're a mother of two young kids, just don't have it first thing in the morning as it will spike your cortisol levels,' Shand tells me. 'Drinking it after a protein-rich breakfast is more beneficial as the food intake primes the body and blunts the harsh impact of the caffeine.' This I can do. Even better, swap out the second or even third cup for a Sixways Hormone Balancing Decaf. ('It contains maitake functional mushroom plus inositol and vitamin B6 to support blood sugar balance and hormonal health, and I promise it doesn't taste of mushrooms!') A probiotic-rich diet isn't a million miles away from what I was eating before, but having a solid awareness of what I was consuming, and why, made me much more motivated to stick to it. A lot of the meals and recipes she suggested are already what I like to eat, just with some gut-loving substitutes. Shand advised me to incorporate a variety of plant-based, fibre-rich, and fermented foods into daily meals. Think kimchi, sauerkraut, kefir, miso, and live yogurt, (the fermentation produces natural probiotics). Plus prebiotic fibres (the food that good bacteria thrive on), including garlic, onions, and bananas. My usual turkey mince bolognese is good, but a lentil ragu is better for an extra dose of fibre, supporting my digestion and therefore the growth of beneficial bacteria. A potato and spinach curry can be upgraded to a chickpea and cavolo nero, prebiotic one. Both, by the way, are delicious, comforting, hearty – just good, in all senses. So, for the next few weeks, I committed to this gut-reset protocol: Take probiotic supplements on an empty stomach. Eat more (delicious) probiotic-rich food. Cut down on (but not avoid entirely – see above) known gut disruptors like processed foods and alcohol, which can kill the good bacteria I'm trying desperately to cling on to. I struggled with this last step more than I'd like to admit, such is the constant battle of the overly anxious. Shand suggested swapping a mid-week wind-down glass of wine for Motherroot, a sort of sweet-spicy, alcohol-free alternative that actually supports digestion and stabilises blood sugar with a ginger and apple cider vinegar blend. I mix it with soda and actually love it for an after-kids bedtime treat. Also, just the idea that I am putting something good into my body rather than the guilt of another glass of wine does wonders to relieve my morning-after anxiety all on its own. It's not an immediate switch flip, but I stuck to the protocol for three solid months, and as the days turned into weeks, I started to notice subtle but significant shifts in my mood. The first, most notably, at a time when I'd feel the most overstimulated anxiety spike that would present as extreme impatience. Attempting to get my kids out the door so I could make the right train to get me to an important (therefore bonus anxiety-inducing) meeting on time. It was a subtle shift, like a small presence of kindness that allowed me to reason with myself, reason with my kids and extinguish the bomb threat that would've made the whole schedule meltdown. It could also have been the better sleep, which is another notable change. And so it continued. More often than not, mornings felt less like waking up with anxiety as my first involuntary thought, and more like a gradual stretch into the day. The daily urge to doom-scan and look for the things going wrong in my life (it sounds ridiculous, but will be familiar to anyone with anxiety) felt less prominent. I found myself approaching potentially stressful situations with a bit more patience and less catastrophic thinking. 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While I'm not suggesting that a few spoonfuls of sauerkraut will cure anyone's anxiety disorder, the cumulative impact of the probiotic plus these small changes has been surprisingly profound, perhaps key to this particular project. It's hard to ignore the psychological lift that comes from simply feeling better in your own body and choices. I feel more resilient, a bit more hopeful, and at times when I'd previously noticed otherwise, have a kind of mental clarity. Of course, this is an ongoing journey rather than a magic bullet – it's never going to be as simple as popping a pill and waking up panic-free. Before I'd done this deep dive on my gut health, I knew – like most of us – that alcohol and eating junk food were causing spikes in my anxiety. I'd have a few glasses with friends on a Friday evening and wake up to either a full-blown panic attack or a traitorous guilt. But what this has taught me is how significant small, subtle and consistent dietary changes can be in improving your gut health and anxiety. The challenge becomes making these regular habits. Building a healthy gut is a long game; a mix of the right supplements, diverse plant fibres, fermented foods, and stress management techniques is a constant work in progress. Still, the idea that I might be able to influence my mood from the inside out – to literally feed my happiness – is a compelling one. There's something incredibly empowering about knowing I can influence my mental health whilst improving my overall health, since for me this experiment was about finding a more holistic approach that addresses the root causes rather than just the symptoms. And the logic, the science behind it, helps to act as an anchor too. 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BBC News
22-05-2025
- BBC News
Brighton academics find ghosting and gaslighting cause depression
A study by university academics has concluded being ghosted or gaslit can cause depression and paranoia among young involves suddenly cutting off all contact, while gaslighting is the term applied when someone is made to question their perception of reality in order to control study was carried out by teams from the universities of Brighton in East Sussex and Coimbra in Rusi Jaspal, from the University of Brighton, said: "As the use of social media and dating apps grows, so too does the risk of encountering harmful behaviours." Prof Jaspal added: "The digital age has provided enormous opportunity for social connections but also comes with some risks. "Ghosting, in particular, is almost exclusively enacted in online settings."Younger adults, in particular, appear to be at greater risk and must be supported."The study attempted to explain why some people might behave in this way, concluding it could be to avoid suggested therapies such as cognitive behavioural therapy could help those who have been affected. Need help? If you have been affected by this story the BBC Action Line web page features a list of organisations which are ready to provide support and advice.
The Guardian
20-05-2025
- The Guardian
Mental-health lessons in schools sound like a great idea. The trouble is, they don't work
It's Saturday afternoon and my friend's five-year-old daughter is lying next to me on her living room floor. She explains to me that she does this at school. She lies on her back with the rest of the class and they do something called the body scanner, where they all pay attention to various body parts in turn. I know she is describing a mindfulness exercise, because I'm a psychologist who researches mental-health lessons. I listen as she explains it all to me, but in my head I'm thinking something else: she shouldn't be learning mindfulness at school. On the face of it, mental-health lessons in schools seemed like an excellent idea. Young people's mental health is worse now than it was in the past, and one-to-one treatment is hard to access. If you teach young people about mental health at school – which often includes teaching techniques based on therapies such as cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) or mindfulness – it's more accessible. If you teach these concepts to everyone in a class – so-called universal interventions – you avoid missing the under-the-radar kids who aren't seeking help, and avoid the potential stigma of singling anyone out. If you teach the information when pupils are young enough, even better: you might prevent mental-health problems from starting in the first place. At least, that was the idea. The reality is more sobering. Researchers have now run many studies testing the impact of universal school mental-health interventions and have found that they don't really improve mental health. When improvements are found, they're small – a tiny average shift on a symptom questionnaire – and the quality of the research is often poor, meaning it's hard to trust the findings. The best-designed studies show that interventions don't work at all: no improvement in mental health symptoms, either immediately after the course of lessons or later down the line. In fact, some studies have found that universal mental-health lessons actually make things worse. There are now high-quality studies showing that school lessons based on CBT, mindfulness, dialectical behavioural therapy (DBT) and general mental-health awareness lead to a small increase in symptoms of mental-health difficulties. There is evidence of other bad outcomes too, such as decreased prosocial behaviour or decreased relationship quality with parents. It is not every study, but it is enough that we should take this seriously – not least because all schools in England are now required to teach something about mental health. And these are the ones that have been tested: there are many, many interventions being sold to and taught in schools that haven't been evaluated at all. I have now reached the conclusion that we should stop these all-class mental-health lessons. My view is that the only information we should teach en masse is where a young person should get help, both inside and outside school, if they're struggling. That's it. Then we should focus the time, energy and money on supporting the smaller group of young people who are actually unwell. I have not come to this conclusion lightly. Like so many others, I was once enthusiastic about the potential of the universal approach. It is a logical, intuitive idea that mental-health lessons in schools are a good idea, an obvious solution to an obvious need. But once you can accept the evidence, something surprising happens. It starts to become clear why all-class mental-health lessons don't improve young people's mental health, and why they were never going to. In any one classroom, young people vary enormously. For starters, the majority of them do not have mental-health problems. This means some pupils are being asked to engage in effortful practices at home – mindfulness meditation, CBT-based thinking exercises – when they are not struggling in the first place. When you ask them in qualitative studies, where they can convey openly what they think, some young people say such lessons are irrelevant to them, and they are right. Proponents of these lessons would say that the exercises are still worth learning, that positive effects may appear later down the line – but this is not supported by the evidence. At the other extreme, in every class there will be students who already have significant mental-health problems, and thus will need more than what is on offer in universal lessons. They will need focused one-to-one support: therapy tailored to their specific challenges, built on a meaningful, trusting relationship with a qualified adult. Others will need changes in their external circumstances, not guidance about how to cope better in their own minds. For these students, mental-health lessons will be far too light touch, like being given plasters and paracetamol when they have a broken leg. Other students say that these lessons make them focus on negative feelings and memories, which then upsets them. Others simply do not understand what they are being taught, and find the exercises confusing and stressful. We have very little understanding about how specific groups – such as neurodivergent children or those with language difficulties – experience these all-class lessons and whether they are able to correctly implement what they are being told to do. Another problem is that the classroom may not be the right setting to learn about mental health. Some young people feel socially secure at school and have good friends, but others are lonely or bullied. Many young people do not feel safe at school. In one study, several students said they didn't want to do mindfulness meditation at school because they didn't trust what their peers would do to them if they shut their eyes. Hearing this, it suddenly seemed obvious: without resolving these social challenges, the classroom is just not the right environment for a young person to do vulnerable work on their mental health. Importantly, this doesn't mean there should be no mental-health support in schools. School is a logical, equitable place to provide help, and there is evidence that one-to-one and small-group support in schools, given to those who need or want it, can work well, at least in the short term. But when it comes to all-class lessons, we should listen to the evidence, and to young people themselves. We came up with a good idea, we spent a lot of time and money testing it, and we have our answer. Given the evidence, we should now stop doing those lessons. The people running this research, and those making decisions to teach these lessons in schools, really want a solution to this crisis. We all want to figure out what to tell young people about mental health, and how to best help them when they are struggling. Against a backdrop of ever rising mental-health problems, and lack of affordable alternatives, I completely understand why it feels wrong – unethical even – to call a halt to these lessons. Yet it is also unethical to ignore evidence, and to continue delivering something that doesn't work. At best, the universal lessons we have are a waste of time; at worst, they are harmful. The numbers tell us these lessons don't improve mental health. The qualitative data tells us that many young people don't like or want them. We need to listen. Dr Lucy Foulkes is an academic psychologist at the University of Oxford, where her group researches mental health and social development in adolescence. She is the author of What Mental Illness Really Is (and what it isn't), and Coming of Age: How Adolescence Shapes Us
