Compassion Fatigue

We’re there during life’s most vulnerable moments — and we carry those moments with us. Whether your trauma began before your nursing journey or emerged from within it, you are not alone.

Every code blue, every terminal diagnosis, every patient we’ve held the hand of while they said goodbye — they leave an imprint. We remember their names, their faces, the heaviness in the room. We remember their names, their stories, their families. Sometimes, we even remember the scent of the room, the sound of the monitor going quiet, or the words we said to comfort them in their final moments. These aren’t just tasks we perform; they are human connections, made in some of life’s most sacred — and often traumatic — moments.

With each patient loss, each traumatic event, and each injustice we can’t fix, we add another layer to the emotional burden we carry. At first, we might call it stress. Then, we notice we're more exhausted than usual. We feel irritable, emotionally numb, or disconnected from the work we once found purpose in. We stop sleeping well. We start questioning if we’re even making a difference. This is compassion fatigue — the emotional residue that builds up when we give so much of ourselves to others' pain that we have nothing left for our own. We internalize their suffering — sometimes more than we realize — and slowly, our ability to empathize begins to erode and turns into sympathy.

Left unaddressed, compassion fatigue can lead to burnout, detachment, depression, and even a loss of identity. We may start resenting our work, or worse, ourselves for "not being strong enough" to keep going. But compassion fatigue isn’t a sign of weakness — it’s a sign of being human. It’s a validation of your unwavering compassion and commitment to being a nurse. It’s a sign that your empathy is working overtime and needs replenishment. Don’t compartmentalize to be ‘strong’, seek help and acknowledge the grief, pain, fear or anger inside you.