Healing the Healer: How EMDR Intensives Can Support Clinicians

By Jenn Bovee, LCSW, CRADC, CCTP II, CCHt
EMDRIA Certified Therapist & EMDRIA Approved Consultant

I remember the first time I truly understood what it meant to absorb someone else's pain. I was three years into my practice, sitting across from a client who had just finished recounting a particularly harrowing trauma. As they walked out of my office, I felt this weight settle into my chest: not my own, but somehow mine to carry nonetheless. That night, I found myself checking the locks on my doors twice, feeling jumpy at every sound. I didn't realize it then, but I was experiencing my first real taste of secondary trauma.

If you're a clinician reading this, you probably know exactly what I'm talking about. We enter this field because we want to help, to heal, to make a difference in people's lives. But somewhere along the way, we start carrying pieces of every story we've heard, every tear we've witnessed, every breakthrough we've facilitated. It's an occupational hazard nobody really prepares you for in graduate school.

The thing about being a therapist is that we're trained to hold space for others, but we're often terrible at creating that same space for ourselves. We normalize the emotional exhaustion, the way our hearts race when we hear certain triggers that mirror our clients' experiences, or the way we've started avoiding certain movies or news stories because they hit too close to home. We tell ourselves it's just part of the job, that we're strong enough to handle it.

But here's what I've learned after years of practice and my own journey through burnout: we can't pour from an empty cup, and pretending our cup isn't empty doesn't make it any less so.

Secondary trauma is sneaky. It doesn't announce itself with fanfare. Instead, it creeps in through repeated exposure to others' traumatic material. One day you're fine, the next you're having nightmares about a client's story, or you find yourself hypervigilant in situations that never used to bother you. Maybe you start feeling emotionally numb, or conversely, you become overwhelmed by emotions that don't even belong to you.

Compassion fatigue often follows close behind. That deep well of empathy that drew us to this work starts to feel more like a burden than a gift. You might notice yourself going through the motions during sessions, feeling disconnected from your clients' experiences, or worse, feeling resentful about their progress or lack thereof. The guilt that comes with these feelings can be crushing.

And then there's burnout, the exhaustion that sleep doesn't fix, the cynicism that creeps into your worldview, the sense that nothing you do really matters. Maybe you start calling in sick more often, or you find yourself snapping at loved ones over minor things. Perhaps you've considered leaving the field altogether, wondering if you've lost whatever it was that made you good at this work in the first place.

Here's what I wish someone had told me earlier in my career: experiencing these things doesn't make you weak, and it doesn't mean you're not cut out for this work. It means you're human, working in a profession that demands you witness and hold some of humanity's deepest pain. The fact that it affects you is actually a sign that you haven't lost your humanity in the process.

This is where EMDR intensives can be a game-changer for clinicians. I know what you might be thinking: you've probably recommended EMDR to countless clients, but seeking it for yourself feels different, more vulnerable somehow. There's something about being on the other side of those bilateral movements that can feel exposing, especially when you're used to being the one holding the space.

But intensive EMDR sessions offer something unique that traditional weekly therapy often can't provide for busy clinicians: concentrated healing. Instead of trying to squeeze therapy into your already overwhelming schedule, an intensive allows you to dive deep and do significant work in a condensed timeframe. It's like taking a healing retreat for your nervous system.

The beauty of EMDR for secondary trauma is that it works with your brain's natural processing mechanisms. All those client stories, traumatic images, and overwhelming emotions that you've absorbed don't have to stay stuck in your system. EMDR can help your brain file these experiences away properly, reducing their emotional charge and giving you back your sense of equilibrium.

I've seen colleagues transform through intensive EMDR work. The hypervigilance starts to ease, the intrusive thoughts about clients' traumas begin to fade, and that sense of emotional overwhelm becomes more manageable. It's not about forgetting or becoming callous—it's about processing these experiences in a way that allows you to maintain your compassion without sacrificing your wellbeing.

One of my colleagues described it perfectly after her intensive sessions: "I still care deeply about my clients, but I'm no longer carrying their trauma in my body. I can be present for their pain without making it my own." That's the sweet spot we're aiming for—maintaining our empathy while protecting our emotional and psychological health.

The intensive format also makes practical sense for clinicians. We're notoriously bad at prioritizing our own care, often canceling therapy appointments when client needs arise or work demands increase. An intensive session requires you to block out dedicated time for healing, making it harder to rationalize pushing your own needs aside.

There's also something powerful about working with a therapist who understands the unique challenges of our profession. They get why you might minimize your own trauma symptoms, why you feel guilty for struggling when you "should" know better, and why it's so hard to turn off your clinical brain and just be a client.

But let's be honest about something: seeking help as a helper isn't always easy. We're used to being the experts, the ones with answers, the ones people turn to in crisis. Admitting that we need support can feel like admitting failure, even though we'd never apply that same logic to our clients.

I remember sitting in my first EMDR session, feeling this strange mix of vulnerability and relief. Vulnerability because I was finally acknowledging how much I'd been carrying, and relief because I didn't have to carry it alone anymore. There's something profound about having someone else hold space for your healing, the way you hold space for others.

The ripple effects of addressing secondary trauma, compassion fatigue, and burnout extend far beyond your personal well-being. When you're operating from a place of emotional health and resilience, you're a better therapist. You can stay present with difficult material without becoming overwhelmed. You can maintain appropriate boundaries without feeling guilty. You can experience genuine empathy without absorbing your clients' pain as your own.

Your clients benefit too. They can sense when you're grounded and present versus when you're running on fumes. There's a different quality to the therapeutic relationship when you're operating from a place of genuine wellness rather than professional martyrdom.

And let's talk about your personal life for a moment. How many of us have brought the heaviness of our workday home, affecting our relationships with partners, children, and friends? How many family dinners have been shadowed by the weight of what we've heard in our offices? Processing secondary trauma doesn't just make you a better therapist—it makes you more available for the people you love.

I know there might be practical concerns running through your head right now. The cost, the time away from practice, the fear of what you might uncover in the process. These are valid concerns, but I'd invite you to consider the cost of not addressing these issues. What's the price of continuing to operate from a place of depletion? What opportunities for connection, joy, and professional satisfaction are you missing while you're just trying to survive?

There's also the question of modeling self-care for your clients. How can we authentically encourage our clients to prioritize their mental health if we're not doing the same? When we take care of ourselves, we give implicit permission for our clients to do the same.

The healing process isn't always linear, and intensive EMDR work can bring up unexpected emotions or memories. But that's part of the beauty of it—your brain is finally getting the chance to process and integrate experiences that have been stuck. It's normal to feel emotionally raw or tired after intensive sessions, but this is different from the chronic exhaustion of burnout. This is the tiredness that comes from deep, meaningful work.

I want to address something that might be running through your mind: the fear that healing your secondary trauma might somehow make you less effective as a therapist. There's this misconception that our wounds make us better healers, that our pain connects us to our clients' experiences. While there's some truth to the power of shared experience, there's a crucial difference between having processed your trauma and actively carrying unhealed wounds.

When you've done your own healing work, you can sit with your clients' pain without being triggered by it. You can draw on your understanding of trauma and recovery without being overwhelmed by your own unresolved material. You become a wounded healer in the truest sense, someone who has walked through the fire and emerged transformed, capable of guiding others on their own journey.

The field of mental health is evolving, and there's a growing recognition that therapist wellbeing isn't a luxury; it's a necessity. We're starting to have more honest conversations about secondary trauma, about the reality of what it means to do this work day in and day out. This shift gives us permission to seek the help we need without shame or apology.

If you're reading this and recognizing yourself in these words, please know that seeking intensive EMDR work isn't an admission of failure; it's an act of courage and self-respect. It's saying that your well-being matters, that you deserve the same quality of care you provide to others.

The journey back to yourself might feel daunting, but you don't have to walk it alone. There are therapists who specialize in working with fellow clinicians, who understand the unique challenges we face and the specific ways trauma shows up in our lives. They can help you reclaim your sense of groundedness, your joy in the work, and your ability to be present both professionally and personally.

Your future self, the one who can leave work at work, who sleeps soundly without intrusive images, who feels genuinely excited about their next client rather than depleted by the thought, that version of you is possible. It starts with acknowledging where you are now and taking one brave step toward healing.

We spend our careers helping others heal. Isn't it time we offered ourselves the same gift?

To learn more about the EMDR Intensive we offer, please go here: https://www.mymentalwellnesscompany.com/services