COMPASSION FATIGUE
Caregiver, activist, humanitarian, do-gooder, altruistic idealist--imagine the world without these people, most of whom are everyday citizens who have seen suffering and want to help. Often working without pay or with insufficient pay, they are on the front lines of suffering, seeing it up close, directly touching the victims, dealing personally with pain, illness, death, poverty, injustice, fear, and desperation. They do it because they care, and they want to make a difference. But there is a problem lurking in the shadows for these compassionate human beings. It's called "compassion fatigue."
Compassion fatigue is well known to those who work regularly with victims: kids with cancer, poor immigrants, the homeless, underp;served children, throwaway animals, victims of the criminal justice system, victims of abuse. Helpers are invariably people with empathy and compassion who soon discover that there is no neat, precise conclusion to problems that are endless. In time, helpers may become overwhelmed, but find it difficult to say "no." And if they are good at helping, requests for help keep coming and coming. Where to draw the boundaries and when to stop? There is never enough money or time or energy to do all the work that the world requires, so it is the burden of every humanitarian to figure out when to turn out the lights and fall into bed.
I clearly remember my first experience with euthanizing dogs. I was on the board of directors of the local humane society and decided I needed to see euthanasia for myself. The first dog was brought into the euthanasia room. With a sense of panic, I thought, "I could save this dog! I could adopt it! I could take it home!" Then I remembered that six other dogs were waiting behind the door to be euthanized, and I couldn't possibly save all of them. I had to let go of it. I cried, and I felt terrible, but I had to let go.
When I became the executive director of the shelter, the other employees and I had a standing joke that we should just put cots and hot plates in every office so that we could stay there 24 hours a day. There was always one more thing we could have tried, one more life we could have saved. When I left this job after seven years, it took me an entire year to recover emotionally and physically from compassion fatigue.
A wonderful friend of mine started working in her hometown as an after-school tutor/mentor with a child in a Hmong immigrant family in order to help him learn English and assimilate into US culture. Before long, she was spending many more hours than she had intended--helping him get a job and a driver's license and apply to college, visiting his family (with an interpreter) to intercede on the boy's behalf, and taking on several of the younger children. It was difficult to say "no" because she cared greatly about this family. She has selflessly devoted years to them and knows she has made a difference, but she is burned out and needs to diminish her commitment and time. With the family in such need, how can she close the door--even part way? Such is the dilemma of many humanitarians. Compassion fatigue must be recognized and avoided.
There is a saying: "I did nothing because I could do so little." It is okay to do a little. You may not save all the stray dogs or help every homeless person, but you can make a difference to one.
When you begin doing humanitarian work, expect that it will be overwhelming and endless. Don't let the depth and magnitude of problems leave you feeling totally depressed and unable to act.
Start small. If you feel you are able, increase your work, but be on the alert for the inevitable pull to do more and more. Analyze why you don't just turn your life over to this work. Is it because there are other demands on you? Is it because the work itself is stressful and difficult? Compose in your mind what you will say to yourself and to others when you are tempted to do more and more--maybe something like this: "I care deeply and would like to do more, but I have many demands on my time, and I am doing all that I can."
Then pat yourself on the back for what you have done. Others may be disappointed that you have boundaries, and their reaction may lead you to feel guilty. Don't! Take breaks. Take vacations. Few of us are prepared to be Mother Teresa. If possible, talk with other humanitarians and encourage each other in staying emotionally healthy, maintaining limits, and feeling good about what you do.
To all of you humanitarians, thank you for the incredible work you do in overhauling the world.
--Jody Cramer <jody@activist-etc.org>, <www.activist-etc.org> is an activist working: to end the death penalty, to free an innocent man on death row, to provide residential group homes for indigent, disabled adults as an option to nursing homes, and to promote animal rights.