This interview is with Ishdeep Narang, MD, Child, Adolescent & Adult Psychiatrist | Founder at ACES Psychiatry, Orlando, Florida.

Ishdeep Narang, MD, Child, Adolescent & Adult Psychiatrist | Founder, ACES Psychiatry

As a psychiatrist specializing in both adult and child mental health, can you share your journey into this field and what inspired you to focus on these areas?

My journey into psychiatry was born from a deep-seated desire to understand the human story, a passion sparked by my early experiences in India. I was fascinated by the intricate connection between our experiences and our mental well-being, and I wanted to dedicate my life to helping people navigate those complexities. This path led me from medical school in India to specialized psychiatric training in the United States, where my focus became crystal clear. During my residency and fellowship in Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, I saw a profound and undeniable link: the roots of adult struggles are so often found in the soil of childhood experiences. This realization is the cornerstone of my practice. It’s why I chose to specialize in treating both adults and young people—to truly help an adult, it’s vital to appreciate the story of the child they once were. Similarly, you cannot effectively guide a child without understanding the world they are growing into. This dual focus allows for more complete and compassionate care.

How has your experience working with both children and adults shaped your approach to mental health treatment?

My work has provided me with a “time-lapse” perspective on mental health, which fundamentally shapes my treatment approach. It’s a unique view that helps connect the roots of childhood experiences to the branches of adult well-being, reinforcing that healing is rarely about a single moment in time, but about understanding a person’s entire story.

This dual lens is a powerful clinical tool. When I’m with an adult, it helps me recognize the echoes of early developmental challenges that often drive their current struggles. Conversely, when I’m with a child, my experience with adults provides the foresight to understand how early behaviors can evolve. This transforms my approach from being merely reactive to truly proactive and preventative. It’s about understanding the whole person, at any age, and empowering them with targeted care that addresses their full story.

Can you describe a challenging case you’ve encountered in your practice and how you navigated it to achieve a positive outcome for the patient?

One of the most rewarding cases involved a 14-year-old boy I’ll call “Brad.” His parents brought him to me as a last resort, describing him as “defiant, lazy, and depressed.” The family was exhausted and on the verge of giving up.

The initial challenge was cutting through the cloud of frustration. Brad was sullen, but I sensed a deep frustration behind his silence. My experience told me that such intense opposition often masks an unaddressed struggle. A comprehensive evaluation revealed the true issue: severe, undiagnosed ADHD and significant secondary anxiety. For years, he had been trying to operate in a world not built for his brain, leading to a sense of failure that looked like defiance.

The breakthrough came when I introduced an analogy: he had a “Ferrari brain with bicycle brakes.” His mind was incredibly fast, but he lacked the “brakes” to control it. This simple reframe was transformative. It instantly removed the blame and shame. Our plan became collaborative: we started medication to help strengthen his “brakes,” giving him the space to work on skills for his anxiety. I coached his parents to shift from being critics to his “pit crew.” The real success wasn’t just his improved grades, but seeing the family’s relationship heal. The constant fighting was replaced by teamwork, and Brad, feeling understood, regained his confidence.

In your experience, what are some of the most effective strategies for parents to support their children’s mental health, especially in today’s digital age?

I often encourage parents to shift their focus from a battle over screen time to an opportunity for connection. Using the digital world as a new venue for communication while intentionally building real-world resilience can make a significant difference. Here are some strategies I find helpful for families:

Move from Monitoring to Mentoring. Instead of just tracking hours, get curious about your child’s digital life. Ask open-ended questions about the games they play and the videos they watch. Showing genuine interest turns screen time into an opportunity for connection.

Enforce a “Digital Sunset.” Sleep is the bedrock of a child’s mental health. I advise parents to establish a firm, family-wide rule where all screens are put away at least an hour before bedtime and are not allowed in bedrooms overnight. This teaches the vital skill of disconnecting.

Champion Real-World Resilience. A strong foundation in the real world is the best defense against its digital challenges. Prioritize offline activities like sports, hobbies, or simple face-to-face time. These are the experiences where children build the robust coping skills and self-esteem they need.

Model the Behavior You Want to See. Our children absorb more from our actions than our words. Be mindful of your own device use. Demonstrating that you can be present and engaged without a screen is one of the most powerful lessons you can teach.

How do you approach the integration of mindfulness techniques in your practice, and can you share a specific example of how it has benefited a patient?

I approach mindfulness not as a vague concept, but as a practical, evidence-based skill for brain training. It’s a tool that empowers patients to become active participants in their own wellness by creating a small gap between a feeling and the reaction to it. In that gap lies the power to choose a healthier response. This is always tailored—from a simple breathing exercise for a child to a structured grounding technique for an adult.

A powerful example involved a patient I’ll call “Anna,” a professional debilitated by panic attacks. Her world had shrunk as she avoided potential triggers. I explained that a panic attack is like a faulty fire alarm in the brain—it feels real, but the threat isn’t present. I taught her the “5-4-3-2-1” grounding exercise: calmly noticing 5 things you can see, 4 you can feel, 3 you can hear, and so on.

The technique didn’t magically stop the physical sensations, but it stopped the spiral of catastrophic thinking. By focusing on the concrete data from her senses, she learned she could ride out the wave of adrenaline without it escalating. It gave her back a sense of control and the confidence to reclaim her life from fear.

Given your expertise in both child and adult psychiatry, how do you see the connection between childhood experiences and adult mental health playing out in your practice?

In my work, I consistently see how childhood provides the blueprint for our adult emotional lives. The experiences we have when we’re young form the very foundation of our well-being, and a shaky foundation can lead to cracks later on. My role, whether my patient is four or 40, is to understand that original blueprint.

This plays out daily. An adult struggling with anxiety can often trace that pattern to a childhood of unpredictability; their “anxious programming” was a survival skill then, but it’s maladaptive now. Understanding this allows us to heal the root cause. Conversely, when I treat a child with explosive outbursts, I see an opportunity to help draw a healthier blueprint. By teaching them and their family emotional regulation skills, we are providing active, preventative care. This perspective, validated by frameworks like Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs), allows for more compassionate care because we’re treating the whole person, not just a single chapter of their life.

Can you discuss a time when you had to adapt your treatment approach due to cultural or socioeconomic factors, and what did you learn from this experience?

Effective care must adapt to a patient’s real world, a lesson crystallized for me by a case involving a 15-year-old I’ll call “Sofia,” whose anxiety manifested as chronic headaches. Her family, part of a multi-generational household, was hesitant about psychiatry due to cultural stigma and couldn’t manage weekly sessions because of demanding work schedules.

A “textbook” approach was destined to fail. So, we shifted from individual therapy for Sofia to “family wellness sessions” that included her respected grandmother. We also moved to bi-weekly meetings to ease the logistical burden. The focus changed from a clinical diagnosis of “anxiety” to the family’s shared, concrete goal: helping Sofia overcome her headaches. The experience was a powerful reminder that our “gold standard” plans are useless if a family can’t access or accept them. It taught me that flexibility, cultural humility, and listening for a family’s true goals are, themselves, powerful clinical tools.

In your view, what are the most promising developments in psychiatry and mental health treatment, and how do you see them impacting patient care in the coming years?

The most promising developments are all moving us toward more precise, accessible, and empowering patient care. Here are a few key examples:

Personalized Medicine: Using tools like pharmacogenomic (PGx) testing helps predict how a person’s body might respond to specific medications. This reduces the “trial-and-error” process and makes treatment more scientific from the start.

Technology-Enhanced Care: Telepsychiatry and integrated digital apps have been a game-changer. They break down barriers to access like distance and work schedules while providing continuous support tools for patients between sessions.

Advanced Neuromodulation: Techniques like Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation (TMS) offer powerful, non-invasive options for conditions like treatment-resistant depression, providing a vital and hopeful path forward for those who haven’t found relief with other treatments.

Based on your experience, what advice would you give to aspiring mental health professionals about maintaining their own well-being while caring for others?

This is a critical question. Maintaining your well-being isn’t an add-on; it’s a core clinical skill and an ethical necessity. You can’t pour from an empty cup.

Cultivate Your Professional “Container.” Learn to be a compassionate container for your patients—fully present during sessions but maintaining the emotional boundary needed to leave their struggles in the office. This is a skill you must consciously practice.

Build Your “Clinical Tribe.” You cannot do this work in isolation. Intentionally build a network of trusted colleagues for consultation and support. This “tribe” is non-negotiable for ensuring a sustainable career.

Schedule Your Decompression Ritual. Create a “transition ritual” to end your clinical day, like a short walk or a specific playlist. This simple, scheduled routine signals to your nervous system that it’s time to disconnect.

Be a Perpetual Student of Yourself. Commit to your own self-reflection through personal therapy or mindfulness. This work will stir up your own vulnerabilities, and understanding them is essential for both your well-being and your ability to provide clear-headed care.

Thanks for sharing your knowledge and expertise. Is there anything else you’d like to add?

Thank you for the conversation. I’d like to end with this thought: the single most important step we can take is to see mental health as what it truly is—health. There is no health without mental health. Seeking support for your mind is no different than seeing a doctor for a physical ailment. It is not a sign of weakness or failure; it is an act of profound strength, wisdom, and self-awareness. My hope is that we continue to dismantle the myths and stigma that keep people from getting the support they deserve. Prioritizing your mental well-being is not a luxury—it is the foundation upon which a fulfilling life is built, and it is the greatest investment you can make in yourself.

A Note on Patient Stories: To protect patient confidentiality and privacy, all stories and examples shared in this interview are anonymized and may be composites of several clinical experiences. Any names or identifying details are fictitious.