The Uncanny Self Care

As a psychotherapist, I’ve spent years witnessing the pain, complexity, and resilience of the human experience. It is a privilege—but it also comes at a cost.

The more I offered others a space to be held, the more I began to notice the parts of myself that were being slowly worn thin. I came to understand, not just theoretically but viscerally, the profound effects of vicarious trauma and the quiet erosion of energy that so many of us in the helping professions endure.

Mental health work asks us to stay attuned, to listen deeply, and to be present with what is often raw, unresolved, or overwhelming. It’s no surprise, then, that burnout is so prevalent among therapists and counsellors.

According to recent studies, 21% of mental health workers meet the criteria for burnout, and psychotherapists are at higher-than-average risk for depression, anxiety, and compassion fatigue. Even more alarmingly, research from the National Violent Death Reporting System (NVDRS) indicates that mental health professionals have one of the highest suicide rates among all occupational groups.

These statistics are devastating—but not surprising. The nature of our work is intimate, emotional, and often invisible. We carry what others cannot, and we do it quietly.

Over time, I began to ask: What does real self-care look like for those who give so much? And more importantly, Where are the spaces that genuinely nourish the people who hold others for a living?

That’s when the vision for Àndala Journey began to take shape. I wanted to create something that wasn’t just a break from the work, but a return to the self. Not a professional training, but a deep, replenishing experience rooted in care, creativity, and connection.

I believe that self-care is not just a personal responsibility—it’s an ethical one. To keep doing this work with integrity and presence, we must also tend to the parts of ourselves that get overlooked. For me, self-care must go beyond bubble baths and mindfulness apps. It must include:

• Food that nourishes the body and soul
  
• Nature that reminds us of something greater
  
• Movement that brings us back into our bodies


• Art that gives voice to the unspoken
  
• A group that reflects us, holds us, and walks beside us

This is what we offer at À ndala: a space for those who hold others to finally be held themselves. Rooted in the ancient and healing landscape of Sardinia, this retreat is an invitation to step away from roles and responsibilities—and return to the quiet knowing that we, too, are worthy of care.

Because we cannot pour from an empty cup.

And because healing professionals need healing, too.