This is the second in a series of blogs examining the stigma surrounding mental health clinicians who live with the same conditions they treat. A variety of viewpoints and experiences will be presented.

I am a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW) and community-based therapist who lives with ADHD, complex trauma, and depression. After I was asked to write this article about my experience, I mentioned it to my own therapist for feedback. My therapist smiled when I told her about the potential blog article I would write, and she exclaimed “you are a wounded healer.” That got me thinking. So, I did a little research. And I was surprised to find how many of us mental health professionals have our own mental health issues. A 2022 study among professionals in the mental health field found that 80% of respondents had a history of mental struggles, while nearly 50% of respondents were currently diagnosed with a mental health disorder (Victor et al., 2022). This means that half of us therapists may be

living with a diagnosed mental health issue. Most of us therapists are likely covert wounded healers!

The wounded healer

Jung coined the term “wounded healer” to describe healers who are motivated to support others due to their own personal experiences of suffering and trauma (1968). Through life experiences, the wounded healer develops a deep sense of understanding and compassion for fellow humans on their recovery and healing paths. When used skillfully, this extraordinary compassion is a superpower that helps mental health professionals connect with and support others in mental distress. The compassion of the wounded healer can also serve as kryptonite for the mental health professional if used indiscriminately; it can result in overwhelm, limbic transference, and ultimately damage the therapeutic partnership (Mehta, 2024; Grand, 2013). Due to the perceived dangers of self-disclosure among therapists also with mental health stigma, wounded warriors have long been covert. Therapists have largely hidden their experiences with mental health both in the therapy room, and among clinical colleagues.

There has long been a taboo against the explicit use of the wounded healer superpowers among therapists. Self-disclosure is discouraged completely in many psychoanalytic approaches, while humanistic therapies have traditionally sometimes allowed for it (Hill, et al., 2001). But this is slowly changing. The newer peer support approach in mental health is built on sharing stories to support others, and it has certainly been helpful for folks in recovery (White, et. Al., 2020). Today in professional therapy circles, the idea of using self-disclosure to help others may be becoming more mainstream (Warrender, 2020). Some researchers are even proposing the adoption of self-disclosure as a formal therapeutic intervention (Ziv-Beiman, 2013). The most recent publication of the motivational interviewing (a newer humanistic approach to therapy) textbook now emphasizes the importance of therapists’ genuineness and authenticity (Miller & Rollnick, 2023). I think that as a profession (and as a society), we are moving towards transparency about our suffering, mental health, and general human messiness.

My experience as a wounded healer

As a therapist who has always struggled with my own mental health, I identify with Jung’s idea of the wounded healer. My experiences with trauma, mental health suffering, and social exclusion motivate me to serve others with similar life experiences. These experiences have shaped my worldview, and they have informed how I experienced and developed in the world around me from a very young age. This gives me insight and skills in connecting and supporting others with suffering and hopelessness. I can use my past (or

present) experiences as a garden bed to grow empathy with another person, and this skill comes quite naturally for me. In fact, upon reflecting on my employment history over the past few decades, I can confidently say that the role of being a wounded healer in community mental health has been the perfect fit for my skills, talents, and aspirations in this life.

Helping others as a therapist, case worker, or other mental health professional is life changing. I have witnessed the most miraculous of recoveries among those I serve, and I have also witnessed some of the most heartbreaking moments in suffering among those I work with. In all this work, the beauty of humanity shines through. It inspires me to embrace my own imperfections and innate human messiness. As a therapist I can use the anger, pain, and sadness that I carry as fuel. I can transmute these emotions into compassion. If I am skillful others will heal. If I make a mistake in relating to a client through these experiences (and I definitely have), I can apologize and recenter myself. So, I draw upon my past and present experiences with mental health as I would select a crayon. Self-disclosure is one of the colors in the therapy crayon box shared by the client and me. Sometimes we may be using my favorite hues of teal and red-orange, other times we may be creating an art piece using colors within a muted greyscale.

Self-disclosure in social work and therapy

I see self-disclosure language as one of many things I can say in the therapy room that could be, or could not be, helpful. The National Association of Social Work (NASW) reminds social workers to be very intentional and careful when using self-disclose to help a client (2001). For example, in a therapy room after obtaining client permission to disclose, I might share “when my thoughts are going down a spiral like you just described, I notice changes in my heartbeat, breathing, restlessness, etc… What is it like in your body when the thought spiral comes up?” This therapist statement could support the client in developing increased awareness of anxiety symptoms present in the body, and it also models the skill of focused mindfulness of body sensations.

On the other hand, as a therapist I could say to a client, “I have had a really hard time lately staying focused when listening to others, my ADHD symptoms are acting up for some reason and my mind keeps wandering when others talk more than 5 minutes.” This type of sharing is likely to damage the therapeutic alliance, cause the client to feel like a burden, and it may lead to a pattern of a role reversal in the client-therapist relationship. In social work, we are always told to ask ourselves “Whose needs are being met here?” when using the powerful tool of self-disclosure (Reamer, 2006). I think this is good advice. I also think that self-disclose can and should be used more than we think in therapy. It can humanize the therapist, it can create a strong therapeutic connection, it can make the session feel

more natural, and it can model our compassionate messiness for others striving to accept themselves. We might make a mistake when using this skill, but we might make mistakes when we use any skill. Skills take practice, and so we learn carefully and honestly. When we make mistakes, we apologize and repair.

I was told just the other day by a newer client who spoke in an astonished tone, “did you just say that you also have ADHD!?” Initially I felt a surge of anxiety, worry and self-consciousness. Did I make a mistake? Was that too much information, too early, and too personal? Was this statement self-serving, for my benefit somehow?

After a pause they continued, “you mean to tell me that you are neurodivergent?… I have never had a therapist or any other professional tell me that… This is beautiful, this tells me that I am in the right place – that you would share that with me, and you can understand some of this stuff.” After the client explained how they were processing this information, I felt relieved. I was happy to hear that this particular utterance from this wounded healer was helpful and not harmful in this particular context.

Common Humanity

Kristin Neff and Chris Germer have identified common humanity as one of the three key principles in Mindful Self-Compassion (2020). For me, the principle of common humanity is my guiding light in the fog of therapy. I can trust that I and the client are two humans, sitting together, sharing space and time, in our humanity. It is important that I set my intentions on helping the client heal, that I hold them with compassion. I need to act as skillfully as possible and collaborate with the client when selecting our therapeutic color pallet. Through all of this, I need to stay attuned with myself, the client, and the relationship.

As a wounded healer I can draw on personal experiences with mental health to build connection, compassion, and community with others. As a professional, I have been trained in many skills and theories that can help along the way. When I can integrate my professional training and life experiences in mental health, I show up as my best self for the sake of helping fellow travelers on the path of recovery and healing.

Hill, C. E., & Knox, S. (2001). Self-disclosure. Psychotherapy: Theory, Research, Practice, Training, 38(4), 413.

Jung CG. (1968) The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious. Princeton University