Overcoming Compassion Fatigue

When it comes to compassion fatigue, the best defense is a strong offense. It’s important to protect yourself, every day, so that you never fall into it. But what if it’s a little late for that??

Defining Compassion Fatigue

When we are exposed to the trauma of others, we can experience a contagion effect. A little of the stress response of those with whom I am interacting affects me, as well. If I am able to deal with that in a healthy way—by talking about my feelings, engaging in self-care, and giving myself time to recover—I can process that and move on without long-lasting effects. But when instead I experience that contagion effect (also called secondary trauma) and don’t have that time and space to recover, the trauma lingers, eventually solidifying into compassion fatigue. Compassion fatigue is a diminished ability to feel. You might hear a horrifying story or witness an incredible tragedy and muster no emotional response at all. Joyful events can seem distant or hollow. It’s often accompanied by a sense of hopelessness that things will ever change or improve.?

At a recent training, when I described compassion fatigue, a man in the back began to laugh. “I haven’t felt anything in years,” he said. I’ve heard that laugh before, in the gallows humor of prosecutors when I worked at the Justice Department. I hear it now from?police officers,?health care workers,?educators, and more.?

When you’re in that deep, what do you do?

Take the First Step

First, recognize that it takes effort to change, as well as time. It took a while to get to that place, and it will take a while to get out of it. Think of it like turning a ship. If you try to turn it too quickly, it will break. But if you turn it a little at a time, degree by degree, you set a different course and over the long term, end up in a very different place.?

Begin by reconnecting with little things that make you happy. When I was once in a period of compassion fatigue, I was afraid even to consider what I might want, because I thought that it would require upending my entire life—quitting my job, running away. I discovered, though, that I could make small choices that would bring a little more joy into my day. I found a pen that I like to use. I listened to music on the way into work instead of the news.?

Once I got more comfortable with identifying and following my own preferences, I began to get better at it. Slowly, I was able to carve out time to do something for myself every day. I began to run—just a little at first, but over time, for longer. I started to write in a journal, and over time, shorter and then longer pieces of fiction and nonfiction. I took a yoga class. I began to meditate. This didn’t happen all at once, but eventually I started to recognize what I needed to support my mental health. It’s a practice, in the same way that maintaining your physical health is a practice.?

Reach Out for Support

One of the harder pieces for me is something that I’m still working on—reaching out to others for support. I did it recently, though, after the training with the person who said he hadn’t felt anything in years. I walked away from that conversation with a feeling of hopelessness about the horrible events in the world and the ways that they leave lasting scars on good people.?

Fortunately, I recognized that hopelessness, and I knew what to do about it. I spoke with my friend Bishop Paul L Walker DD , who is a minister and is kind and wise. He listened to me and offered his words of support. “The world does seem hopeless sometimes,” he agreed. “But we keep planting seeds anyway.” We often don’t see those seeds for a long time, and we may not ever see them sprout. He said, though, that he knows one thing: The seed has to die for the plant to grow. We have to let go of one thing to become something else. Maybe it’s letting go of ego, and the sense that we can handle anything without needing support. Maybe it’s letting go of our need to rescue others. We won’t know what we can become, though, until we let go of the parts of us that are holding us in place.?

Bishop Walker's words, along with some rest, helped me to recover. I'm feeling better now. The sense of hopelessness is gone, replaced by gratitude for the wonderful people in my life, and a renewed inspiration to keep working to help others through challenging times.

Conclusion

Before we end, I want to remind you that there are professionals out there who can help you work through issues faster and more effectively than you could on your own. We are fortunate to live in a time where there are effective therapies and treatments for trauma, from prescription medications to EMDR to CPT and more. Check out some options?here.

You are important and deserve to feel whole and well. Please take the steps you need to support yourself.??

Katharine Manning is the author of The Empathetic Workplace: 5 Steps to a Compassionate, Calm, and Confident Response to Trauma on the Job and the President of Blackbird DC. Join her Thursday text list for weekly messages on empathy, leadership, and resilience by texting "blackbird" to 833-975-1945.