Dealing With Compassion Fatigue and Second-hand Trauma

I'm exhausted. My friends know it. I know it. I am pretty sure my staff know it.

                     I
                                         Am
Tired. 

I've been doin' this residental thing for quite some time now and It's been taxing my energy since day one. I'm not sure when, but at some point I found that the very thing that gave me drive suddenly became my enemy: compassion. 

I have often heard the term "compassion fatigue" throughout my year as a Mentor/Big Brother but it never seemed to quite fit with what I was going through. At least, not until recently. 

This morning I had a new term added to my residential vocabulary. That term would be "second-hand trauma." UGH!!! That hit me like Batman blocking a Superman punch! 

Second-hand trauma works very much like second-hand smoking. You may not be the one with the cigarette, but it still gets in your lungs if you're present. You may not have been the one experiencing the trauma, but through exposure to the traumatized individual and their radiating pain you too begin to experience the pain of the trauma. I can more than easily say that I have personally added traumatization to my life through my exposure of multiple traumatized students (and staff). The more I pour myself out for them and the more time I spend getting close to them, the more I am exposed to that smoke. 

The terms "compassion fatigue" and "second-hand trauma" are completely related. It is the combination of the two that causes my bones to ache and my eyes to sit heavy in their sockets. Fill up, turn, pour, empty, sleep, repeat. This is the cycle of most in ministry, and so very much so for those in my line of work.

Maybe you understand that. Maybe you have been in ministry (or maybe you have a a dysfunctional family that you keep fighting to love) and you keep giving and giving to those who seem utterly ungrateful for your; you are surrounded by the weight of others with all their their trauma, poor choices, and pain.  Fill up, turn, pour, empty, sleep, repeat. It get's old after a while. And chances are that you aren't doing the whole "fill up" part very well. 

 Isn't compassion one of the key elements of being a Christian? How can it be taxing and leaving me dry? How do you keep going when you feel like you can't anymore?

" I know I'm filled to be emptied again. The seed I receive, I will sow..."
 -Hillsong                                 


Being filled and emptied is a natural cycle of ministry, but that doesn't make it easy. It also doesn't mean that you are supposed to never stop and rest. Compassion is beautiful, but like everything else in our lives it has it's limitations. Here are some important things that I've learned about dealing with compassion fatigue and second-hand trauma. 

Recognize and acknowledge. I say both together because both are essential. Identifying the issue in your heart and being willing to acknowledge it are both necessary to do the work needed to achieve rest and healing. Ignoring a wound leads to infection, not healing. 

Give yourself grace to hurt. There is nothing wrong with being in need of rest. Not being ok is a natural result of any person who pours themselves out. Stop beating yourself up for being tired when your being tired is evidence of your compassion and love. Christ grew tired and felt pain over those He exuded energy towards. Why wouldn't it be any different for us?

Retreat and Rest. Get yourself some space and relax. This is the one that I most struggle with! I struggle to disconnect from my work and, in the end, I never get the rest I need. As a result, I am far less productive than I could be. Retreat doesn't mean isolation, but it means disconnecting from the struggle long enough to reset your mind, and it means getting the measure of solitude that you need as well. 

I am ever being challenged in this area of my life. Don't give up my dear friend. If there is anything that I know for sure is that God is with you and He is going to see you through, He will be your supplement and strength when you have nothing left. I also know that He wants you to go and rest. 

So what are you waiting for? Go and rest. 

Grace and Peace,

Stephen