Mental Health Awareness Month Is for Trauma Therapists Too

This Month, We’re Saying It Out Loud — for Us, the Trauma Therapists

Mental Health Awareness Month shows up everywhere in May — on social media, in agency newsletters, on client worksheets. But most of the time, it focuses entirely on the people we serve.

And while our clients absolutely deserve awareness, visibility, and support…
so do we.

As trauma therapists, we’ve been taught — both directly and subtly — that our job is to be the regulated one. The strong one. The emotionally stable one.
We can have feelings, sure. But they’d better be managed. Quiet. Tidy.

This blog isn’t about managing. It’s about naming.

Because I’ve had enough of pretending that being a trauma therapist means being untouched by trauma.
I’ve had enough of whispering about mental health — or only talking about it in private DMs or supervision sessions.

So this month, I’m starting with what’s true:
Mental Health Awareness Month is for trauma therapists too.
And saying that out loud? That’s a radical act of community care.

We Don’t Even Know How Many of Us Are Struggling

Here’s what you need to know: the data on mental health in our field is shockingly limited — and that’s not a coincidence.

There’s research on physician mental health. There are meta-analyses on nurse anxiety and stress. But when you start looking for clear, current data on **mental health diagnoses in therapists **(not even specific to trauma therapists btw)? It gets very quiet, very fast.

Go ahead — I dare you to search for “mental health disorders in mental health professionals” or even more specific, “rates of ADHD in mental health providers.”
See what you get...

We do have a few stats that help paint the picture:

• A 1994 (yes, from 21 YEARS AGO) study found that 61% of psychologists reported experiencing clinical depression at some point in their lives (Guy et al., 1994).

• A 2011 paper (14 years old...) discussed the suicide risk among psychologists, highlighting the emotional cost of our work (NCBI).

• A more recent 2023 study exists (link to https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2023-66166-001) — but it’s locked behind a paywall on APA PsycNet, inaccessible to most of us in practice.

• And while ADHD rates among physicians and other providers have been studied, there’s still no clear breakdown for therapists.

And again, might I point out that none of the research I cited is even specific to trauma therapists.

Yes, we have data on vicarious trauma, compassion fatigue, secondary traumatic stress, and burnout — and we need that data. But it often feels like those numbers are seen as acceptable, even expected, because they're attributed to the work itself.

What we’re still not doing is acknowledging our humanity first, and then looking at how being a trauma therapist intersects with that.

We’re still operating as if mental health issues are something that only happen because of the job, not something many of us bring with us into this work like most humans — and continue to live with while doing it well.

Clearly we’re not just underrepresented — we’re invisible.

And that invisibility sends a message:
This field still expects us to stay silent.

But I don’t need another study to tell me what I already see every day.

In BRAVE. In my consultation groups. In the hallway at conferences.
I see trauma therapists navigating panic attacks, masking their neurodivergence, moving through depression, managing their own trauma histories — and still showing up with care, integrity, and skill.

The research may not be caught up. But the truth is here.
We’re doing the work. We’re just doing it human.

My Story: The Fear That I’m Not Good Enough

If I’m being honest — this isn’t just something I see in others.
It’s something I live too.

For me, the deepest mental health struggle I face as a human, and thus as a trauma therapist, is the constant fear that I’m not good enough.

That if I don’t do more, prove more, achieve more, hold it all together, then I don’t belong in this field.

So to outrun the anxiety and depression in the wake of all that not good enough self-talk,  I overwork, I say yes too much, I try to drown out the voice in my head that whispers, “Everyone was right! You’ll never be enough.”

And here’s the hard part: that shit works… until it doesn’t.

Because eventually, the exhaustion hits.
The irritability shows up.
The disconnection creeps in.
And then I start to believe the thing I was trying to disprove — that maybe I’m not cut out for this after all.

But the truth is: I’m not failing. I’m feeling.
And so are you.

I’ve seen this exact pattern play out in so many other trauma therapists I work with — especially those who carry histories of trauma, identity-based stress, and neurodivergence.

Reader — I see you. You’re constantly performing stability. You’re afraid to let the cracks show. You want to be real, but you’re afraid you’ll be seen as incompetent. 

Let me say this again clearly:
You are not doing it wrong. You’re doing it human.
And that gets to belong here too.

Visibility Is Community Care for Trauma Therapists

Most of us were taught that professionalism = performance.

Keep your struggles to yourself.
Talk about your mental health in private.
Don’t let it affect your work.
And for the love of god, don’t post about it.

But here’s the truth:
Visibility isn’t unprofessional. It’s liberating.
It creates connection. It disrupts shame. It reminds us that we’re not alone — even when we feel like we are.

That’s why I’m inviting you to join me in the #BeingHumanAsATraumaTherapist challenge this month.

This isn’t about trauma dumping.
It’s not about proving how hard things are.

It's not about oversharing or being unethical.

It’s about making room for the parts of ourselves that have been hidden — and showing each other what’s possible when we’re allowed to be whole.

You can participate however feels good to you:

• Share this blog

• Write a post or a caption that reflects your experience

• Re-share someone else’s story with a “me too”

• Or simply witness the stories that are being told

You don’t have to speak to belong here. Witnessing counts too.

Reflection Prompts to Support You This Month

Not everyone will want to post — and that’s okay.
Here are some reflection prompts you can explore in a journal, a voice note, or a quiet walk:

• What’s one belief I’ve carried about what it means to be a “good” therapist?

• How has silence about my own mental health shaped how I show up in this work?

• What’s one truth I wish someone else had named for me sooner?

Let these be invitations — not pressure. This challenge is about freedom, not performance.

Mental Health Awareness Month Is for You, Too

If you’ve ever hidden your anxiety, masked your ADHD, numbed out after sessions, or felt like you had to earn your right to be here…
this is your reminder: you already belong.

This month, we’re not asking for permission.
We’re claiming space.
We’re saying it out loud.

Join the #BeingHumanAsATraumaTherapist challenge
Tag @braveproviders Or just share this post with someone who gets it.

You don’t have to do more to be enough.
You’re already here. You’re already doing the work.
And you get to be human while you do it.

I’m Jenny Hughes, and I’m right here with you.