What does one do when one’s compassion cup goes dry and empty; when one comes to a point where there is nothing more left to give?
I lost my mother very recently. She was 93. For the last two and a half years, she was ill, and for the last one and a half years, she was bedridden. Though all her children, when they visited her, used to be generous in taking care of her needs, it was my brother and his wife who took care of her day in and day out. They did an amazing job; they regulated their daily routine to make sure that mother did not lack anything, they sacrificed their possible travels and outdoor fun activities to make sure that there was someone with mother always. As days passed, weeks passed, months and years passed, I could see exhaustion and a certain level of irritation setting in with them. There were feelings of helplessness and powerlessness in the face of distress and pain, for medically they could do nothing more for mother, except to give palliative care. Other siblings, especially my sisters, increased their frequency of visits, and they remained at home for longer periods of time, giving my brother and wife a little respite.
Leave my family there; imagine you are someone taking care of your old parents or grandparents for a prolonged period of time, or taking care of a child at home with chronic illness, or a child with autism or other mental health issues, or trying to understand a partner who has given in to addictions, or helping and being with a friend who is in a toxic relationship for a long time, or simply having very demanding and entitled children, and you place their needs first. Gradually you begin to feel overwhelmed, feel exhausted and tired; and come to a stage where you can’t take it any- more. People can get tired of caregiving or showing understanding or compassion—it is called compassion fatigue. Though com- passion fatigue was identified and written about by Carla Joinson, who herself was a nurse and a writer, in 1992, this is a phenomenon that got noticed especially during the Covid-19 pandemic. As the pandemic hit the world wave after wave; nurses, medical practitioners, volunteers, firefighters, police, pretty much everybody in the business of caring began increasingly growing tired. It is a physical, emotional, and spiritual exhaustion. One comes to a point where there is nothing more left to give.
We are all potentially vulnerable to compassion fatigue. It happens because of prolonged exposure to the emotional and psychological needs of others. All empathy is used up; one’s empathy cup, compassion cup goes dry, goes empty, one loses one’s capacity for compassion as one used to have. People live in denial of compassion fatigue for a long time. We may feel tired, irritated, etc., but we have been the helper, playing the role of caregiver for long, so we go on, we don’t acknowledge that we are tired.
Juliette Watt, who herself was a victim of compassion fatigue, while narrating her life story in a TED talk, gives a few symptoms of compassion fatigue: irritation and frustration, feeling absolutely worthless and terribly sad, isolating yourself from everyone around you including your own family, reduced feelings of empathy and sensitivity, and nothing making sense any- more. People can behave mechanically and become more and more task-focused and less emotion-focused.
What do we do when we reach this stage of compassion fatigue? Just ignore our duties of caring and showing empathy? Acknowledging that one is tired, burned out, and exhausted because of caregiving is important because it not only gives the caregiver an opportunity to cope with it and rejuvenate but also ensures the person receiving care does not suffer because of the exhaustion of the caregiver.
How do we refill our cup of compassion? If you are in the business of caregiving, recharge your batteries daily. Spend plenty of quiet time alone. Engage in what you enjoy doing—perhaps your hobbies. A regular exercise routine and good sleep can reduce stress and help you re-energise. Traveling gives lots of oxygen for your depleted empathy cup.
The ability to reconnect with a spiritual source and practice mindfulness meditation are excellent ways to ground yourself in the moment and keep your thoughts from pulling you in different directions. Commit to eating healthily and better; and stop all other activities while eating.
Spend time with family and friends who give you positive vibes. Hold one focused, connected, and meaningful conversation each day. This will jump-start even the most depleted batteries.
Ask for help. Assuming that no one will help could be wrong. Connect with people; speak to them about what is happening with you. Caregivers deserve care against compassion fatigue.
Compassion fatigue is real. Sadly, it happens to good people, people who care. We need them to continue works of compassion. We must step in when we see people facing compassion fatigue. When we visit the sick around us, which is a good thing to do, we must also visit the caregiver, speak to them, and be of help to them if possible. The Migrant Mother (the image on the August cover), by photographer Dorothea Lange (1936) ex- presses compassion fatigue. It is the image of a mother, aged 32, and her children who were victims of a blighted pea crop in California in 1935 that left the pickers without work. This family sold their tent to get food. This image embodied the hunger, poverty, and helplessness endured by so many Americans during the great depression. Children are constantly in want, how long would her cup of compassion last?
Written as editorial for Together Magazine.
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