Therapy that gives you something to work with.

You wake up at 3 a.m. and run the shift, the call, the trip, the meeting again before your alarm goes off. You’re still functioning, but the work that used to feel manageable now requires effort to start, and a day off doesn’t leave you rested the way it used to.

What you reach for to take the edge off isn’t doing much: the drink, the gym, the scrolling until 1 a.m. Some days it’s hard to focus. You’ve held off on reaching out. You worry what other people might think, and you’re not sure therapy is for someone like you, or that it will actually help.

You also know it’s not going away on its own. You’ve been thinking about what it would take. Some part of you has already started looking.

Trauma. Something you saw or went through keeps coming back: a call, a crash, a code in the hospital, an assault, or years of smaller things that built up. You may feel on guard or on edge, startle easily, avoid the feelings or memories that bring it back, or notice anger and guilt that you can’t tie to anything specific. In my experience, sleep and concentration go first. Whether or not it fits a diagnosis, it can be treated.

Burnout and chronic stress. Burnout is what happens when the stress of the job goes on for a long time without relief. You feel drained, you’ve grown distant or cynical about a job you used to care about, and you’re less effective than you know you can be. Time off helps for a few days, and then the same load is waiting.

Anxiety. You feel on edge most of the time, worry about everyday things more than the situation calls for, and find it hard to relax even when nothing is wrong. It’s hard to fall asleep, your muscles stay tight, and by the end of the day you’re wiped out. In my experience, people live with this for years while doing well at demanding jobs, and it costs them at home and in their health.

Depression. It shows up as low mood or a sense of emptiness that has stuck around for weeks, less interest in things you used to enjoy, low energy, trouble concentrating, and sleep or appetite that has changed. You still get through the day, but it feels heavy, and it takes more than it used to.

Substance use. You drink or use more than you planned, more often than you meant to, and it is harder to cut back than you expected. Maybe it started as a way to come down after a shift or to get to sleep, and it stopped being optional. I’m a Certified Advanced Alcohol and Drug Counselor, and this is something I treat directly rather than refer out.

Grief. It can follow a death, a diagnosis, a divorce, a retirement, or a loss that nobody around you counted as one. Grief comes in waves, makes it hard to concentrate, and can bring guilt, anger, or numbness along with sadness. When it stays intense for a long time, or when you never had the chance to grieve it, it’s worth working on directly.

Most people I see bring more than one of these, and they feed each other. Sorting out what is driving what is the first job, and it decides what we do next. None of this is a personal failure, and all of it responds to treatment.

People who have done therapy before sometimes tell me their earlier sessions felt like talking with no direction. There’s room to talk, and I also keep sessions practical. I explain what we are doing and why, because I don’t want therapy to feel like a mystery you sit through. If you ever work with another therapist after me, I want you to be able to say what worked for you and ask for it.

Therapy here has a structure. Therapists train in a range of tools, and the list below is what I use in therapy. Not every tool comes into every course of treatment; we’ll find the best option for what you’re working on.

Which of these we use depends on what you’re working on. Some weeks we work through one incident that has stayed with you. Some weeks we look at what happens in your body before a meeting that always leaves you shaken. Some weeks it’s a conversation about a pattern you’ve finally seen clearly enough to do something with.

You should walk out of a session with at least one of three things: a clearer understanding of what’s going on, a practice or strategy to try between now and next week, or progress on something that has been stuck.

I have substantial experience working with first responders, including years riding along with police as the clinician on scene. The people I see from this world include police officers, firefighters, EMS, and dispatchers. I also see veterans and service members, during service and after it. The culture, the schedule, the calls that stay with you: none of it is something you’ll need to explain to me from scratch.

Healthcare workers are also a regular part of this practice: ICU and ER nurses, physicians, nurse practitioners, physician assistants, and hospice and palliative care professionals. Burnout, compassion fatigue, moral injury, and grief come up often.

I’m also a licensed pilot. For aviators, what mental health care could mean for an FAA Medical isn’t a question you’ll have to walk me through.

I also see people at any point in a major life transition: a divorce, a career change, retirement, an empty house, a diagnosis, the death of a loved one. Sometimes the transition itself is what we’re working on. Sometimes what you’d been managing around for years stops being manageable once the structure of your life changes.

With insurance: This runs through Counseling Center of West Michigan and is available in Michigan only, in person in Grand Rapids or by telehealth. CCWM handles the billing, and the plans I accept there are listed in the FAQ.

Self-pay: You book directly with Holliday Approach, in Michigan or Ohio, at the rates above. I give you a superbill to send to your insurer for out-of-network reimbursement. For Ohio, this is the only way to see me.

Under the federal No Surprises Act, you have the right to a Good Faith Estimate of expected charges for your care. Read the Good Faith Estimate notice.