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-energize. 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?
