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Filtered by Specialty: Anxiety

Related Trauma & PTSD (251) Depression (228) Stress (197) OCD (63)

MC

Maya Calloway

LCSW Portland, OR Telehealth

Anxiety

Warm, collaborative therapy for adults navigating anxiety, burnout, and the transitions life hands us — we go at your pace.

Accepting $130–$180 /session OHP, Aetna, CareOregon +3 Request Intro

TB

Thomas Bui

MA, LPC associate Portland, OR Telehealth

Anxiety

Practical, skills-based work for anxiety and stress — expect warmth, structure, and zero judgment.

Accepting $160–$200 /session OHP, PacificSource +2 Request Intro

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TA

Tess Arden

PMHNP · Portland, OR · In-person & Telehealth

Depression Sadness OHP · Telehealth

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Filtered by Specialty: Anxiety

MC

Maya Calloway

LCSWPortland, OR· Telehealth

Anxiety

Accepting $130–$180 /session

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TB

Thomas Bui

LPC associatePortland, OR· Telehealth

Anxiety

Accepting $160–$200 /session

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Accepting new clients Telehealth · takes OHP Anxiety in Portland What is OHP?

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TA

Tess Arden

PMHNP · Portland, OR

Depression Sadness OHP · Telehealth

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From the community

Latest Articles

Fresh insights from our partners and editorial team — therapy guides, Oregon-specific insurance answers, and clinical thinking.

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Anxiety and Emotional Exhaustion: Why You Feel So Tired

Anxiety can feel incredibly tiring. If you feel overly anxious or worried, you might notice: Feeling drained, even after a typical day Frequently feeling on edge, followed by having very little energy left for everyday tasks Wanting to isolate or pull back from others due to fatigue Why Anxiety Is So Exhausting Your brain and body are always “on.”When anxi

Grace Mavromatis· Jun 23, 2026

What Makes BCB Therapy Different from Basic Talk Therapy?

When people think about therapy, they often imagine sitting with a therapist and talking through problems, emotions, or stressful life events. Being heard and supported matters, but for many people dealing with anxiety, trauma, depression, or relationship stress, talking alone is not always enough. BCB Therapy works with clients who often feel like they have already tried therapy, already un

BCBTherapy· Jun 28, 2026

Is Psychodynamic Psychotherapy “Evidence-Based?” What Does “Evidence-Based” Mean?

If you’re looking for a therapist—whether here in Portland or the surrounding areas—you’ve likely come across the term “evidence-based.” It’s used often, but not always explained. What does evidence-based actually mean? Evidence-based treatment means an approach towards mental health care that has been studied using systematic, empirical research. A speci

Laura Birchard MA LPC Depth Psychotherapy· May 2, 2026

OCD and Alcoholism: My Answer to Life's Uncertainties

Many reminisce on simple, carefree childhoods. I never knew such a thing. I have always been burdened with an intense fear of all that is uncertain, and because life is uncertain, I became afraid of life itself. From the age of six onward, my brain was inundated with disturbing images beyond my control. The only way I knew how to cope with these thoughts was by repeating words to myself that counteracted the ugliness of the thoughts in my head. With each hideous, perverse thought, I whispered the word "pony" to myself. Ponies were innocent and sweet. They served as a very brief distraction to this noise. My obsessions have waxed and waned throughout the years, and I have struggled with many different subtypes, ranging from the more taboo types to the more stereotypical ones revolving around cleanliness and order. When I was diagnosed with OCD at age 11, I was perplexed. To me, and to many others still, OCD was not a disorder. OCD was a quirk. It was actually a gift in some ways. OCD meant that you were supernaturally neat and tidy. Even now in an age where mental health has become less stigmatized, OCD is often not taken seriously. People laugh as they say things like, "I am so OCD," perhaps oblivious to the pain that those with OCD suffer through every day. My disorder was a joke. That was the message I got from society. As my pain grew, I began to over-identify with my mental health problems. I went from therapist to therapist where I received diagnosis after diagnosis. It didn't matter what the diagnosis was because the message was the same. You are messed up. You are broken. We must fix you. I didn't understand myself or my personality beyond my pathologies. By the time I entered college, I felt that no one truly knew me unless they knew the laundry list of my diagnoses and every which way they were screwing up my life. I felt like a liability, not a person. I was a ball of shame. Naturally, I turned to substances as I was absolutely through with thinking. I wanted so badly to escape myself. The OCD brain is very accustomed to having the same thoughts loop day in and day out. It is a broken record. I took to substance abuse quickly. When my obsessions began revolving around drugs and alcohol, it felt like a natural continuation of the OCD cycle. I went on like this for years. I was stuck in self-pity. This was my lot in life. My mental health problems were an easy excuse for my substance abuse and my substance abuse was an easy excuse for my bad behavior. It didn't occur to me that I had any power over my life. I didn't think my actions mattered. It took me getting sober to realize what is and what is not in my control. The serenity prayer is my lifeline, and it helps with my OCD as well. I cannot control the thoughts and images that enter into my head, but I get to choose how I react to them, and whether or not I engage in a compulsion. This applies whether my brain convinces me my family is going to die if I don't say ten hail mary's or if it convinces me I need a drink to not go insane. I am still looking for a therapist that truly feels like a good fit. Finding a therapist that is right for me is within my control, and it is empowering to be able to decide who will help me on my journey. For once in my life, I have hope that if I persevere, I will be okay.

Caroline· Mar 23, 2026

What I Learned from Goodbye

The first time the floor fell out from under me, I was only ten years old. My mother died just six months after being diagnosed with cancer, a timeline so fast it felt less like a passing and more like a theft. By the time I got to college, I had already built a personal relationship with depression.So, when my best friend’s brother was shot and killed, it didn't just sadden me—it leveled me. I was trying to cope with my first internship, to maintain friendships, be 21, and graduate college. That family had become my second family, my safety net. When they broke, I broke. I didn’t just fall into a depression; I dove into it, sinking into my bed with my bottles drowning me. Slowly everything I was working towards slipped away. When you’re in that deep, the world shrinks to the size of a liquor bottle and the four walls of a bedroom you can’t bring yourself to leave. My dad’s neighbor, a therapist herself, eventually threw me a rope. She recommended a friend of hers to work with me.For nearly two years, that woman was my entire world. We met weekly, sometimes twice a week. She was there when the addiction took hold, and she was there when things got even darker—after I was sexually assaulted and the depression curdled into suicidal ideation. I was failing every class, a ghost in my own life, only stumbling to the nearest 7-11 or liquor store to refill my cup.She was the one who finally got me into rehab after two different stints in the psych ward. But addiction isn't a straight line. I left rehab early, promising my father I wouldn’t drink for 6 months so I would be able to learn to drink properly afterwards, and graduate college. Upon returning home, my roommates kicked me out of our house after finding me hidden in my closet; high, but not drunk. I didn’t drink for those 6 months, but I didn’t stay clean. I moved into my own apartment where I could hide how bad things really got. I continued to work with my therapist, showing up to our sessions high and not working towards any of the goals we were setting. Somehow, through a haze of survival instinct I didn't know I still had, I managed to graduate. My 6 months of no drinking had finished and against my therapist's advice, I ran. I fled to Mexico. I spent months there, thinking a change of scenery would fix a broken spirit, but I only spiraled further. By the time I touched back down in Oregon, I was desperate. I knew I was dying. I reached out to the one person who had always held the rope for me, expecting her to pull me up again.She said no.She declined to work with me. At the time, it felt like the ultimate betrayal. I had trusted her with the most jagged pieces of my soul, and in my moment of greatest need, she closed the door. She said she couldn’t help me anymore, even if I got sober as she couldn’t trust me. I ended up back in the psych ward shortly after, vibrating from a week of no sleep and a body fueled by nothing but chemicals and alcohol.But that "no" did something "yes" never could. It forced me to realize that no one person could carry me—I had to learn how to stand on my own shaky legs.I was able to find a new therapist. I moved in with my lifelong best friend. I started attending meetings. I learned to ask for help, and hold myself accountable. There wasn’t a choice anymore.Today, I am nearly two years sober. I’ve held the same job for over a year, and I’m in a beautiful, loving relationship. After nearly a year of working with my new therapist she told me something I never thought I would hear, “Leah, I think our work here is done. It’s time for you to put your skills to work. You may always reach back out to me, but it’s time for you to start living your life.” Each goodbyes has set me free, and for that I am grateful. Goodbye, Leah.

Leah Burke· Mar 30, 2026

Perinatal Providers of Central Oregon

Finding Your Village: A Guide to Perinatal Providers of Central Oregon

The journey through fertility, pregnancy, loss, birth, and postpartum is a profound season of life. Let’s be honest—it can also feel incredibly overwhelming. Finding the right support during this time shouldn't add to your stress. Perinatal Providers of Central Oregon (PPCO), is a centralized platform dedicated to making perinatal care in Bend, Redmond and the rest of Central Oregon

POPerinatal Providers of Central Oregon· May 4, 2026

Article

What Is Psychedelic Integration Therapy? (And Do You Need It?)

What Is Psychedelic Integration Therapy? (And Do You Need It?)People often come out of ketamine sessions, psilocybin experiences, breathwork, or even deep meditation feeling like something shifted. There can be clarity, emotional release, or a sense that you touched something important.And then… life continues.The insight fades. Old patterns come back. Or sometimes, instead of clarity, you’re left feeling confused, raw, or unsure what to do with what came up.That’s where integration therapy comes in.Integration is the part that most people underestimate—but it’s where real change actually happens.So what is integration therapy, really?It’s a space where you slow things down and start making sense of your experience in a way that actually translates into your life.Not by overanalyzing it. Not by trying to “figure it out” intellectually.But by gently exploring:What came up for youWhat felt important, even if it didn’t make logical senseWhat might be asking for your attention or changeSometimes it’s very clear. Other times it’s subtle, symbolic, or even uncomfortable.Integration helps you stay with it long enough for it to become something real—not just something you once experienced.Why the experience itself isn’t enoughThere’s a common belief that the session—the ketamine journey, the psilocybin experience—is the treatment.It’s not.It’s an opening.It can show you something new. It can disrupt patterns. It can soften defenses.But if nothing changes afterward, your nervous system and your habits will naturally pull you back to where you were.Without integration, people often:Lose the insight they hadFeel like “it was powerful, but nothing really changed”Get overwhelmed by what came upGo right back into the same loopsWith integration, that same experience becomes something you can actually work with.Something that begins to shape how you relate to yourself, your choices, and your life.Who is this for?You don’t need to have had a perfect or “beautiful” experience to benefit from integration.In fact, a lot of people come in because something felt messy, intense, or unfinished.Integration therapy can be helpful if:You’ve done ketamine therapy and want to go deeperYou’ve had a psilocybin experience (in Oregon or elsewhere) and aren’t sure what to do with itSomething opened up during breathwork or meditationYou feel like you touched something important—but it hasn’t translated into your lifeYou feel unsettled, raw, or confused after an experienceThere’s no “right” way to come in. You don’t need to have it figured out.What actually happens in sessions?It’s not a rigid process.Some sessions are more reflective—talking through what came up, what stood out, what’s still lingering.Some are more somatic—paying attention to what your body is holding, not just your thoughts.Sometimes we slow things down and focus on grounding, especially if your system feels overwhelmed.And sometimes we get practical:What is this insight asking you to change?What would it look like to actually live this differently?The goal isn’t just insight. It’s helping that insight land in a way that changes something real.This isn’t just for psychedelicsEven though people usually find integration therapy after ketamine or psilocybin, it’s not limited to that.Any experience that shifts you—emotionally, psychologically, or spiritually—can benefit from integration.That might be:Ketamine therapyBreathwork or somatic workA breakthrough in therapyA major life transitionOr even a period where things just feel… differentIf something opened, integration helps you stay with it instead of losing it.A trauma-informed approach matters hereNot every experience feels good.Sometimes what comes up is grief, fear, old memories, or parts of yourself you’ve avoided for a long time.That doesn’t mean something went wrong.It just means something real surfaced.Integration isn’t about pushing deeper or forcing meaning. It’s about working with what came up at a pace your system can actually handle.That includes:Slowing down when neededSupporting your nervous systemNot overwhelming you with “insight”Letting things unfold naturallyA bit about my backgroundIn addition to being a psychiatric provider, I’m also a licensed Natural Medicine Facilitator in Oregon.That means I’ve been trained specifically in supporting people through expanded-state experiences, including psilocybin and ketamine—both during and after.What that translates to in practice is this:I understand both the clinical side and the experiential side of this work.So whether your experience happened in a medical setting, a legal facilitation, or somewhere else, you don’t have to explain it from scratch or feel like it needs to “make sense” to be valid.Why telehealth actually works well for thisA lot of people assume this kind of work needs to be in person.But integration often works really well via telehealth.You’re in your own space. Your own environment. The same place where your patterns actually live.That can make it easier to:Reflect honestlyNotice what’s coming up in real timeAnd begin to apply changes where they actually matterAll sessions are currently offered via secure telehealth for clients in Oregon.Final thoughtA powerful experience can show you something new.But if nothing shifts afterward, it stays just that—an experience.Integration is what helps you take that moment and turn it into something that actually changes how you live.Schedule a ConsultationIf you’re in Portland or anywhere in Oregon and you’re trying to make sense of an experience—or don’t want to lose what you found—you’re welcome to schedule a complimentary consultation.Online Booking - IntakeQ

Maria (Masha) Steiner-Renoir / MindMorph LLC· Apr 6, 2026

The Library

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Therapy guides, insurance breakdowns, and clinical thinking from Oregon providers.

View all

Anxiety and Emotional Exhaustion: Why You Feel So Tired

Anxiety can feel incredibly tiring. If you feel overly anxious or worried, you might notice: Feeling drained, even after a typical day Frequently feeling on edge, followed by having very little energy left for everyday tasks Wanting to isolate or pull back from others due to fatigue Why Anxiety Is So Exhausting Your brain and body are always “on.”When anxi

Grace Mavromatis· Jun 23, 2026

What Makes BCB Therapy Different from Basic Talk Therapy?

When people think about therapy, they often imagine sitting with a therapist and talking through problems, emotions, or stressful life events. Being heard and supported matters, but for many people dealing with anxiety, trauma, depression, or relationship stress, talking alone is not always enough. BCB Therapy works with clients who often feel like they have already tried therapy, already un

BCBTherapy· Jun 28, 2026

Is Psychodynamic Psychotherapy “Evidence-Based?” What Does “Evidence-Based” Mean?

If you’re looking for a therapist—whether here in Portland or the surrounding areas—you’ve likely come across the term “evidence-based.” It’s used often, but not always explained. What does evidence-based actually mean? Evidence-based treatment means an approach towards mental health care that has been studied using systematic, empirical research. A speci

Laura Birchard MA LPC Depth Psychotherapy· May 2, 2026

OCD and Alcoholism: My Answer to Life's Uncertainties

Many reminisce on simple, carefree childhoods. I never knew such a thing. I have always been burdened with an intense fear of all that is uncertain, and because life is uncertain, I became afraid of life itself. From the age of six onward, my brain was inundated with disturbing images beyond my control. The only way I knew how to cope with these thoughts was by repeating words to myself that counteracted the ugliness of the thoughts in my head. With each hideous, perverse thought, I whispered the word "pony" to myself. Ponies were innocent and sweet. They served as a very brief distraction to this noise. My obsessions have waxed and waned throughout the years, and I have struggled with many different subtypes, ranging from the more taboo types to the more stereotypical ones revolving around cleanliness and order. When I was diagnosed with OCD at age 11, I was perplexed. To me, and to many others still, OCD was not a disorder. OCD was a quirk. It was actually a gift in some ways. OCD meant that you were supernaturally neat and tidy. Even now in an age where mental health has become less stigmatized, OCD is often not taken seriously. People laugh as they say things like, "I am so OCD," perhaps oblivious to the pain that those with OCD suffer through every day. My disorder was a joke. That was the message I got from society. As my pain grew, I began to over-identify with my mental health problems. I went from therapist to therapist where I received diagnosis after diagnosis. It didn't matter what the diagnosis was because the message was the same. You are messed up. You are broken. We must fix you. I didn't understand myself or my personality beyond my pathologies. By the time I entered college, I felt that no one truly knew me unless they knew the laundry list of my diagnoses and every which way they were screwing up my life. I felt like a liability, not a person. I was a ball of shame. Naturally, I turned to substances as I was absolutely through with thinking. I wanted so badly to escape myself. The OCD brain is very accustomed to having the same thoughts loop day in and day out. It is a broken record. I took to substance abuse quickly. When my obsessions began revolving around drugs and alcohol, it felt like a natural continuation of the OCD cycle. I went on like this for years. I was stuck in self-pity. This was my lot in life. My mental health problems were an easy excuse for my substance abuse and my substance abuse was an easy excuse for my bad behavior. It didn't occur to me that I had any power over my life. I didn't think my actions mattered. It took me getting sober to realize what is and what is not in my control. The serenity prayer is my lifeline, and it helps with my OCD as well. I cannot control the thoughts and images that enter into my head, but I get to choose how I react to them, and whether or not I engage in a compulsion. This applies whether my brain convinces me my family is going to die if I don't say ten hail mary's or if it convinces me I need a drink to not go insane. I am still looking for a therapist that truly feels like a good fit. Finding a therapist that is right for me is within my control, and it is empowering to be able to decide who will help me on my journey. For once in my life, I have hope that if I persevere, I will be okay.

Caroline· Mar 23, 2026

What I Learned from Goodbye

The first time the floor fell out from under me, I was only ten years old. My mother died just six months after being diagnosed with cancer, a timeline so fast it felt less like a passing and more like a theft. By the time I got to college, I had already built a personal relationship with depression.So, when my best friend’s brother was shot and killed, it didn't just sadden me—it leveled me. I was trying to cope with my first internship, to maintain friendships, be 21, and graduate college. That family had become my second family, my safety net. When they broke, I broke. I didn’t just fall into a depression; I dove into it, sinking into my bed with my bottles drowning me. Slowly everything I was working towards slipped away. When you’re in that deep, the world shrinks to the size of a liquor bottle and the four walls of a bedroom you can’t bring yourself to leave. My dad’s neighbor, a therapist herself, eventually threw me a rope. She recommended a friend of hers to work with me.For nearly two years, that woman was my entire world. We met weekly, sometimes twice a week. She was there when the addiction took hold, and she was there when things got even darker—after I was sexually assaulted and the depression curdled into suicidal ideation. I was failing every class, a ghost in my own life, only stumbling to the nearest 7-11 or liquor store to refill my cup.She was the one who finally got me into rehab after two different stints in the psych ward. But addiction isn't a straight line. I left rehab early, promising my father I wouldn’t drink for 6 months so I would be able to learn to drink properly afterwards, and graduate college. Upon returning home, my roommates kicked me out of our house after finding me hidden in my closet; high, but not drunk. I didn’t drink for those 6 months, but I didn’t stay clean. I moved into my own apartment where I could hide how bad things really got. I continued to work with my therapist, showing up to our sessions high and not working towards any of the goals we were setting. Somehow, through a haze of survival instinct I didn't know I still had, I managed to graduate. My 6 months of no drinking had finished and against my therapist's advice, I ran. I fled to Mexico. I spent months there, thinking a change of scenery would fix a broken spirit, but I only spiraled further. By the time I touched back down in Oregon, I was desperate. I knew I was dying. I reached out to the one person who had always held the rope for me, expecting her to pull me up again.She said no.She declined to work with me. At the time, it felt like the ultimate betrayal. I had trusted her with the most jagged pieces of my soul, and in my moment of greatest need, she closed the door. She said she couldn’t help me anymore, even if I got sober as she couldn’t trust me. I ended up back in the psych ward shortly after, vibrating from a week of no sleep and a body fueled by nothing but chemicals and alcohol.But that "no" did something "yes" never could. It forced me to realize that no one person could carry me—I had to learn how to stand on my own shaky legs.I was able to find a new therapist. I moved in with my lifelong best friend. I started attending meetings. I learned to ask for help, and hold myself accountable. There wasn’t a choice anymore.Today, I am nearly two years sober. I’ve held the same job for over a year, and I’m in a beautiful, loving relationship. After nearly a year of working with my new therapist she told me something I never thought I would hear, “Leah, I think our work here is done. It’s time for you to put your skills to work. You may always reach back out to me, but it’s time for you to start living your life.” Each goodbyes has set me free, and for that I am grateful. Goodbye, Leah.

Leah Burke· Mar 30, 2026

Finding Your Village: A Guide to Perinatal Providers of Central Oregon

The journey through fertility, pregnancy, loss, birth, and postpartum is a profound season of life. Let’s be honest—it can also feel incredibly overwhelming. Finding the right support during this time shouldn't add to your stress. Perinatal Providers of Central Oregon (PPCO), is a centralized platform dedicated to making perinatal care in Bend, Redmond and the rest of Central Oregon

POPerinatal Providers of Central Oregon· May 4, 2026

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