Trauma Therapist Burnout: 2025 Year in Review & Self-Care
- jcardozalmft
- 6 days ago
- 10 min read
A heartfelt letter to trauma therapists reflecting on 2025's challenges, burnout prevention, and the reality of sustainable practice. From vicarious trauma to AI tools, You're not alone.
Dear Fellow Trauma Therapist,
As trauma therapists stand at the threshold of a new year, I want to take a moment to reflect on what you've navigated in 2025. Not just professionally—though that matters—but the whole of your experience as someone who holds space for others' healing while managing your own self-care and preventing burnout. This year asked a lot of us, didn't it?
What You Carried This Year
You showed up. Session after session, week after week. Through your own fatigue, through the heaviness of the world's collective trauma, through moments when you wondered if you had anything left to give—you showed up.
You held space for:
Clients processing long-buried trauma that finally felt safe enough to emerge
The ongoing ripples of collective grief and uncertainty in our world
The complexities of working in systems that don't always support trauma-informed care
Your own nervous system's responses to holding all of this
You didn't just witness trauma this year. You witnessed transformation. And that matters more than you might realize in this moment.
The Growth You Didn't See Coming
Remember January? Think back to who you were as a clinician at the start of this year.
Maybe you:
Were still finding your confidence with certain EMDR protocols
Weren't sure how to work with clients who process primarily through the body
Struggled with pacing complex trauma cases
Felt uncertain about trusting your clinical intuition
Were still learning to read the subtle nervous system cues in your therapy room
Now look at where you are.
You've developed skills this year that you didn't even know you needed. You've learned to:
Attune to what isn't being said as much as what is
Trust the wisdom of your clients' bodies and nervous systems
Pace trauma work in ways that honor both healing and safety
Adapt evidence-based protocols to meet unique human beings
Recognize when your own system needs recalibration
This growth didn't come from a textbook. It came from showing up, staying curious, and being willing to not have all the answers.
The Hard Truths You Faced: Trauma therapist burnout Burnout and Sustainability
2025 wasn't easy. Let's be honest about that.
Recognizing Your Limits
You learned about your limits. Maybe you took on too much at some point. Maybe you felt the weight of vicarious trauma more heavily than you expected. Maybe you realized that your nervous system can only regulate so much before it needs tending.
Trauma therapist burnout doesn't always announce itself dramatically. Sometimes it's the gradual exhaustion, the difficulty transitioning out of "therapist mode," the Sunday night dread about Monday's caseload.
Confronting the Gaps
You confronted the gaps. In your training. In the systems you work within. In the resources available to your clients. In the support available to you. These gaps are real, and acknowledging them isn't pessimism—it's clarity.
Feeling the Inadequacy
You felt the inadequacy. There were sessions where you left feeling like you didn't do enough, didn't say the right thing, didn't intervene skillfully enough. That feeling? It's not evidence of your failure. It's evidence of your commitment to excellence.
Wrestling with Sustainability
You wrestled with sustainability. At some point this year, you probably asked yourself: "Can I keep doing this work?" Not because you don't care, but because you care so deeply that the caring itself becomes exhausting.
These aren't failures. These are the growing edges where transformation happens—for you, just as much as for your clients.
What You Learned About Nervous Systems (Yours and Theirs)
This was the year many of us went deeper into understanding polyvagal theory—not just as a concept for our clients, but as a lived experience for ourselves.
Co-regulation in the Therapy Room
You learned that:
Co-regulation is real, and your state matters in the therapy room
You can't pour from an empty cup, but more importantly, you can't regulate from a dysregulated system
The body keeps the score—including your body
Ventral vagal connection isn't just therapeutic jargon; it's the felt sense of safety that makes healing possible
Your own somatic awareness became a clinical tool as refined as any protocol
Recognizing Vicarious Trauma
You started noticing:
The tightness in your chest during difficult sessions
The way your breath changes when holding intense trauma material
The moments when you need to ground yourself before you can help your client do the same
The importance of your post-session transition rituals
This awareness didn't make you more fragile. It made you more skillful.
Managing vicarious trauma requires the same nervous system regulation skills we teach our clients. Self-care for trauma therapists isn't luxury—it's clinical necessity.
The Behind-the-Scenes Reality: AI, Progress Notes, and Administrative Burden
Let's talk about something we don't discuss enough in conversations about therapist burnout: the sheer volume of administrative work that comes with being a trauma therapist, especially as a solo practitioner.
AI Tools for Progress Notes: Promise vs. Reality
This year, many of us discovered AI tools that promised to revolutionize our workflow. Progress notes that once took 15-20 minutes per session could now be drafted in seconds. Treatment plans, session summaries, documentation—all suddenly streamlined.
And yet...
The promise versus the reality: Yes, AI helped. But it also added another layer to navigate. Learning new platforms. Worrying about HIPAA compliance. Wondering if the notes captured the nuance of what actually happened in the room. Editing AI-generated content to reflect your clinical judgment and your client's unique humanity.
The Solo Practitioner Challenge
The solo practitioner burden: You're not just the therapist. You're also the:
Biller
Scheduler
Insurance verifier
Office manager
Marketing department
Technology troubleshooter
Continuing education coordinator
And somehow, still supposed to have energy left for clinical excellence
The progress notes pile up. The treatment plans need updating. The insurance authorizations require attention. The documentation requirements seem to multiply rather than decrease.
The Stress of Getting It All Done
The stress of "getting it all done": How many nights did you spend this year catching up on notes? How many weekends included administrative work you couldn't fit into your week? How often did the thought of documentation feel heavier than the clinical work itself?
This isn't a personal failing. This is a systemic issue in private practice—particularly for those of us who chose solo practice for its autonomy but didn't fully anticipate the weight of doing everything ourselves.
What we learned:
Technology can help, but it's not a magic solution for preventing burnout
Boundaries around administrative time are as important as clinical boundaries
Sometimes "good enough" documentation is actually good enough
The pressure to be perfect in every aspect of practice is unsustainable
We need better systems, not just better time management
If 2025 taught you that the administrative burden is affecting your clinical presence or your well-being, that's valuable information. It's not weakness—it's data about what needs to change in 2026.
The Moments That Reminded You Why This Work Matters
Amidst all the challenges, there were moments this year that reminded you why you do this work:
The breakthrough session where something finally shifted for a client who'd been stuck for months. You witnessed the exact moment their nervous system found a new pathway.
The text message from a former client checking in to say they're doing well, that the work you did together still supports them.
The moment a client said, "I feel safe here" and you knew—deep in your bones—that your attunement created that safety.
The consultation session where you finally understood something about trauma work that had puzzled you for years.
The conversation with a colleague who gets it, who understands this work, who reminded you that you're not alone in what you're experiencing.
These moments matter. They're not small. They're the evidence that this work ripples out in ways we can't always measure but can always trust.
What You're Taking Into 2026: Building Sustainable Practice
As you close the chapter on 2025, I hope you're taking with you:
The knowledge that you're more capable than you were a year ago. Even if it doesn't feel dramatic, even if the growth feels incremental—it's real.
The understanding that seeking support isn't weakness. EMDR consultation, clinical supervision, your own therapy—these aren't admissions of inadequacy. They're the foundation of sustainable trauma therapy practice and essential for preventing therapist burnout.
The permission to evolve. Your practice can change. Your specialization can shift. Your boundaries can become clearer. You're allowed to grow in directions that serve both your clients and yourself.
The recognition that your nervous system is an asset. Your somatic awareness, your capacity for attunement, your ability to notice what's happening in your own body—these are clinical skills you've been honing all year.
The trust that you're exactly where you need to be. Not where you "should" be by some external measure, but where your authentic growth has led you.
Reflection Questions for Trauma Therapists
As you move into the new year, I invite you to sit with these questions:
What's one thing you learned about trauma work this year that surprised you?
Where did you grow the most as a clinician, even if that growth came through challenge?
What does your nervous system need more of in the coming year?
How can you create more sustainability in your practice and prevent burnout?
What support structures do you need to put in place?
What would it look like to be as compassionate with yourself as you are with your clients?
You've Done More Than Survive
Here's what I want you to know as we close out 2025:
You didn't just survive this year. You showed up with intention, skill, and heart. You held space for profound transformation. You developed clinical wisdom that no textbook could teach you. You learned to trust yourself more deeply.
The clients who sat across from you this year—they're carrying forward the healing you facilitated. The ripples of your work extend further than you can see. The attunement you offered created safety. The presence you brought allowed vulnerability. The skill you applied opened pathways to healing.
And through it all, you were also learning to hold yourself with the same compassion you extend to others.
Looking Forward
2026 holds new possibilities. New growth. New learning. New opportunities to deepen your practice and your own well-being.
But before you look ahead, take a moment to honor what you've already accomplished.
You made it through 2025 as a trauma therapist—and that's no small thing.
You witnessed profound pain and profound resilience. You held space for both. You learned and grew and struggled and triumphed. You showed up for your clients and, I hope, for yourself. That's worth acknowledging. That's worth celebrating.
Thank You
Thank you for doing this sacred work. Thank you for continuing to learn, to grow, to show up even when it's hard. Thank you for being part of a community of trauma therapists who understand that healing is possible, that nervous systems can find new pathways, that transformation—however gradual—is real. The work you do matters. More than you know.
Here's to the year behind us and the year ahead. Here's to your continued growth as a clinician and as a human being. Here's to finding more moments of ease, more experiences of joy, more opportunities for connection—in your work and in your life.
You've got this. And you don't have to do it alone.
A Little Note on How I've Grown or Changed This Year Alongside You
I want to share some of my own journey through 2025, because your growth isn't happening in isolation—mine isn't either.
The Disappointment and Letting Go of a Dream
I let go of my role with Trauma Therapist Institute in August of 2025. This was a dream I'd been working toward—furthering my path in EMDR facilitation. But I had to prioritize my health and honor some other callings that were emerging. Letting go hurt, and it also created space for what was trying to be born.
Becoming a Women's Health Midlife Specialist
I completed the IWHI course in Peri/Menopause Coaching and discovered my calling as an advocate for Unmasking Midlife. I'm done calling it a crisis. It's time we recognize midlife's transitional power—the profound transformation available when we stop pathologizing and start honoring this passage.
dAnimal-Assisted Therapy with Talu
After losses came new life. Talu arrived and began teaching me more about how to be honest about my own nervous system in the therapy room. Turns out I've got a lot to learn even after all these years. His presence reminds me that regulation isn't about perfection—it's about authentic connection and truthful presence.
Leaning into Creativity
I'm discovering that my clinical work and my creative expression aren't separate—they're intimately connected. When I honor one, the other deepens. When I create, I become a better therapist. When I practice therapy, I become more authentic in my creative work.
These shifts—the letting go and the stepping into—they're part of the same process you're experiencing. We're all learning that sustainable practice means evolving, adapting, and sometimes choosing paths that don't make sense to anyone but us.
With deep gratitude and respect,
Julie
As you reflect on your own 2025, I'd love to hear: What was your biggest learning this year as a trauma therapist? What self-care practices are you carrying forward into 2026 to prevent burnout? Share in the comments or schedule a consultation call to discuss how EMDR supervision can support your growth and sustainable practice.
A Note on Working Together
If 2025 taught you that you need more support, deeper training, or a community that truly understands this work, consider joining an EMDR consultation group or exploring specialized training in somatic and polyvagal approaches to trauma therapy. You deserve to be supported as you support others.
Preventing trauma therapist burnout isn't about working harder—it's about working with more support, clearer boundaries, and sustainable systems.
Related Resources:
About the Author: Julie Cardoza is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist and EMDRIA Approved Consultant. She specializes in Polyvagal EMDR, embodiment, and somatic approaches to healing. She believes deeply in supporting trauma therapists through their own professional development journeys and in creating sustainable practices that honor both clinician and client well-being. Julie is also a Women's Health Midlife Specialist and advocate for reframing midlife transitions as periods of powerful transformation rather than crisis.
Land Acknowledgment
Julie would like to acknowledge that much of her work is created on the traditional homelands of the Yokuts and Mono peoples, whose relationship with this land spans countless generations. She would like to honor their enduring presence, resilience, and knowledge of the interconnectedness of people and place.
Disclaimer
The content in this blog is for informational and educational purposes only and is not intended as a substitute for professional mental health care. If you're struggling with trauma, anxiety, depression, or other mental health concerns, please seek support from a qualified mental health professional. EMDR therapy should only be practiced by trained and certified therapists.
A Note on This Writing
This blog article has been written in collaboration with Claude AI. Julie brings the clinical knowledge, lived experience, and therapeutic insights; Claude helps the structure and aids in completing this as readable prose.
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