Signs of Compassion Fatigue You Might Be Ignoring
As therapists, we’re trained to notice subtle changes in people. We feel the shifts in someone’s breath, the tension beneath the skin, the unspoken emotion in the room. Yet so often, we miss the quiet changes happening within ourselves. Compassion fatigue rarely arrives as a dramatic collapse. It seeps in slowly until one day you realise that something inside you feels different.
You may still be doing your work well from the outside, but inside, there can be a growing sense of emotional tiredness that rest doesn’t quite reach. You might notice irritability appearing where patience once lived, or a strange numbness during sessions where you would normally feel connected and present. Sometimes it shows up as a subtle dread before a client arrives. Sometimes, it’s even harder to define than that, but simply feels like the enthusiasm you had is simply gone replaced with the sense of duty and obligation.
If you recognise yourself here, it doesn’t mean that you’re failing or weak for feeling this way. What you’re experiencing is the natural outcome of prolonged giving without equal receiving. We care deeply and give generously. We stay present for others even when our own life feels heavy. Over time, the weight of that responsibility, that emotional exposure, builds up if it’s not properly acknowledged and supported.
I’ve seen many therapists try to push through this stage with determination alone. They tell themselves that they should be stronger, more grateful or more resilient. At the end of the day, the core of every therapist’s profession is being in service for others, so they try to fulfil this obligation. But I learnt throughout my career that there are moments when we need to stop and ask ourselves: “what is going on?”, “why am I irritated?”, “what is missing?”, “what do I need right now?” These are fundamental questions that allow us to connect deeply with our true nature, helping to recognise our own needs that are so often neglected. The answers can be as simple as needing more sleep or day off, or perhaps a more meaningful morning routine that can powerfully prepare us for our day. In some cases, however, it can be much deeper than that. We may have lost the purpose of our work, the reason why we are doing what we’re doing, and we must find a way to reconnect with that inner call…whatever it is. Without exploring, investigating, and responding to our needs we’re at the risk of that compassion fatigue leading to burnout, and if this happens, the way to recovery becomes much longer and more complex.
Something I truly love about this profession is that it encourages not only professional growth, but deep personal growth as well. Because of this work, I have been forced to face and resolve many of my own inner struggles in order to be able to give effective treatments. When we work so closely with our clients, who we are as people affects the outcome of the treatment just as much as the techniques we use. If we are practising while carrying resentment, guilt, regret and all the other emotions we might carry but rarely name, and those emotions remain unresolved, they find their way into our work. They can be felt, and in some way, they can be transmitted to the client.
During the times when I have experienced compassion fatigue, I have also felt an unexpected sense of gratitude for this profession because it encouraged me to find my answers and acknowledge my shadows. I genuinely believe that if not for this path, I wouldn’t have resolved many of the personal challenges I have faced in my life. This work has required honesty from me. It has pushed me to grow in ways I may otherwise have avoided. And even in the hardest moments, its taught me that our own healing is inseparable from the healing we offer others.
One of the most overlooked aspects of recovery is connection with people who truly understand this work. When you’re struggling, it’s easy to believe you’re alone in it. Yet the moment you speak openly with colleagues, you often discover how many have walked this same path, including myself! Sharing doesn’t make you weaker, it brings relief, restores perspective and softens the isolation that can quietly grow around compassion fatigue.
Supporting others isn’t meant to come at the cost of losing yourself. You’re not here to burn out in service. You’re here to sustain a lifelong relationship with this work. That means allowing yourself to receive as much care as you give. It means tending to your nervous system, your emotional world and your physical body with the same respect you offer your clients.
If your empathy feels distant right now, it doesn’t mean it’s gone, it means you’re tired. Investigate by asking the right questions I suggested above, reach for help, give yourself space to really listen your needs and act upon them. With the right support, space and self compassion, your empathy can return in a new and steadier form. Just be delicate with yourself, because you deserve the same gentleness that you offer to others every day in your work.