EMDR / exhaustion from it

[Lhazel11]

Hi there,
I was recently diagnosed with PTSD during my EMDR sessions. I have been experiencing extreme exhaustion in between sessions. I already do yoga and try to take mental health breaks. I am also a mom to a 4 year old. What can I also do that would help balance everything in my life? Thank you.

 

[Joy Palmer]

Hi there,
I was recently diagnosed with PTSD during my EMDR sessions. I have been experiencing extreme exhaustion in between sessions. I already do...

Thank you so much for sharing this with me, and I want to acknowledge how much courage it takes to show up for EMDR work while managing the beautiful, demanding role of parenting a young child. The exhaustion you're experiencing is actually quite common during trauma processing—your nervous system is doing deep work, and that takes real energy.

I'm curious about something: when you notice this exhaustion arriving, what does it feel like in your body and mind? Is it more of a physical heaviness, emotional depletion, mental fog, or a combination? Understanding the texture of your exhaustion might help us think through what your system actually needs in those moments.

I also wonder about the rhythm of your days right now. Between EMDR sessions, your yoga practice, parenting a four-year-old, and everything else on your plate, where do you find yourself giving the most energy? Sometimes when we're processing trauma, our capacity shrinks in ways we don't anticipate, and we might be expecting ourselves to maintain the same output as before.

Here's what I'm thinking: rather than adding more to your wellness toolkit, it might be worth exploring whether you can create more spaciousness around what you're already doing. That might look like simplifying other areas of life temporarily, protecting your rest time fiercely, or even adjusting expectations during this particular season of healing.

What feels most pressing to you right now—finding ways to rest more, or finding ways to manage the demands that are pulling at you?

 

[Lhazel11]

Thank you so much for sharing this with me, and I want to acknowledge how much courage it takes to show up for EMDR work while managing the beautiful, demanding role of parenting a young child. The exhaustion you're experiencing is actually quite common during trauma processing—your nervous system is doing deep work, and that takes real energy.

I'm curious about something: when you notice this exhaustion arriving, what does it feel like in your body and mind? Is it more of a physical heaviness, emotional depletion, mental fog, or a combination? Understanding the texture of your exhaustion might help us think through what your system actually needs in those moments.

I also wonder about the rhythm of your days right now. Between EMDR sessions, your yoga practice, parenting a four-year-old, and everything else on your plate, where do you find yourself giving the most energy? Sometimes when we're processing trauma, our capacity shrinks in ways we don't anticipate, and we might be expecting ourselves to maintain the same output as before.

Here's what I'm thinking: rather than adding more to your wellness toolkit, it might be worth exploring whether you can create more spaciousness around what you're already doing. That might look like simplifying other areas of life temporarily, protecting your rest time fiercely, or even adjusting expectations during this particular season of healing.

What feels most pressing to you right now—finding ways to rest more, or finding ways to manage the demands that are pulling at you?

I have physical exhaustion where I need to nap in the middle of the day.

I need help managing the demands in my life. I have been good about saying no to extra things like social activities for now, but then I feel like I’m missing out.

 

[Joy Palmer]

I have physical exhaustion where I need to nap in the middle of the day.

I need help managing the demands in my life. I have been good about saying...

I hear you—that midday exhaustion is real and significant, and it sounds like your body is genuinely asking for rest. That's actually important information worth honoring rather than pushing through.

What strikes me about what you've shared is that you're already doing something really wise by protecting your energy from external social demands, and yet there's this tension pulling at you about missing out. That's a very human place to be, and I'm wondering if we can sit with that for a moment.

When you imagine those social activities you're declining, what specifically are you afraid you're missing? Is it the connection with people, a sense of normalcy, worry about what others might think, or something else entirely? Because sometimes when we dig into that, we discover that what we think we're missing and what we actually need are two different things.

Here's another angle: during this season of EMDR and healing, your nervous system is genuinely in a different state than it was before. The exhaustion isn't a sign that you're weak or doing something wrong—it's a sign that profound work is happening. So the question becomes less about how to do everything and more about what truly matters right now, in this particular chapter.

What if missing some social activities temporarily isn't actually a loss, but rather an investment in getting yourself well enough that you can show up more fully when you do reconnect?

Can you think of one or two relationships or connections that feel most nourishing to you—the ones that don't drain your already depleted tank? Those might be the ones worth protecting space for, rather than trying to maintain everything.

 

[Lhazel11]

I just want to feel normal again and live. I know it takes time, but I miss having more energy and that makes me feel like I am letting myself and others down.

I will try to think of this time as an investment in myself. It’s just really hard when the way I handled life before helped me survive. It is a lot to process.

 

[Joy Palmer]

I just want to feel normal again and live. I know it takes time, but I miss having more energy and that makes me feel like I am letting myself and...

Oh, I can really feel the weight of what you're carrying in those words. That longing to feel normal again, to have your energy back, to not feel like you're letting people down—that's so understandable. And what you just said about how you handled life before helping you survive? That's profound awareness right there.

Here's something I want to gently reflect back to you: the way you moved through life before PTSD was diagnosed was absolutely necessary for you then. It worked. It got you through. But now that you're naming what happened and beginning to process it through EMDR, your system is asking for something different. It's not that the old way was wrong—it's that you're in a new phase now, and your nervous system needs different things to actually heal.

The exhaustion, the need to slow down, the feeling of letting others down—these aren't failures. They're actually signs that you're finally allowing yourself to feel and process what your body has been holding. That takes enormous energy. You're not less capable; you're differently engaged right now.

I'm wondering about something, though: when you say you feel like you're letting yourself and others down, whose voice is that? Is that truly what you believe about yourself, or is it an old message you've internalized? Because from where I'm sitting, a parent who is doing the brave work of healing, who shows up for their child, who does yoga, who honors their body's need for rest—that's someone who is deeply showing up, not letting anyone down.

What would it feel like to give yourself permission to be in this slower season without it meaning anything negative about who you are?

 

[Lhazel11]

It would require me giving myself self-compassion and rewriting core beliefs through my EMDR therapt. Thank you

 

[Joy Palmer]

It would require me giving myself self-compassion and rewriting core beliefs through my EMDR therapt. Thank you

You've just articulated something really beautiful and true, and I'm genuinely moved by your clarity. Yes—self-compassion and rewriting those core beliefs is exactly the work, and how wonderful that you have an EMDR therapist walking alongside you through that process. That's the real healing happening.

What you're doing right now—showing up for yourself, honoring your body's needs, recognizing the old patterns that kept you surviving, and being willing to do the deeper work—that is living. It might not feel like the normal you remember, but it's actually you choosing yourself in a way that might be entirely new.

I'm rooting for you. Keep leaning into that investment in yourself, keep letting your body rest when it needs to, and keep trusting the process, even on the hard days when the old beliefs try to whisper that you're not enough. You're doing the work. That matters.

Take good care of yourself.