Hi. I am wondering how someone like you or people in similar professions cope with so much pain from other people? I imagine most people who choose these kinds of professions are people with high empathy and people who want to help other people. But the fact that you just can’t help everyone, when you see how much pain and suffering so many people are in, isn’t it hard to bear? Or actually, you can’t really help anyone, you can only try to be there and be a sort of guide in what they themselves decides they want to heal/change. You can’t MAKE anyone heal, in the end it’s all up to them, no matter how much you want to and try to. How do you detach yourself from their pain and the outcome, when at the same time you need to be empathetic and invested in their life and emotions? What do you tell yourself? How does one manage that balance of not either becoming indifferent and shutting off empathy or become consumed by their emotions and worrying sick for them and wanting to interfere? I find it really difficult to cope with. (I’m not in this profession but I have considered it, this is just a big problem for me) It pains me a lot when people around me are hurting, even watching/reading/hearing news is so difficult for me that I avoid it, because I just want to make it better and help somehow but I can’t, not enough at least. Because I’m the end I need to leave it up to themselves.
To be honest, after nearly a decade in this field, the thing I struggle the most with is not the people who don't want to be helped - people have the right to make their own decisions, and I can make peace with that. What I really struggle with is seeing the many, many people who desperately want help, but have no opportunity to receive it.
I have worked with homeless and insecurely-housed youth for most of my career. I have watched many, many youth that I have cared about cause a lot of harm to themselves and others, despite doing my best to give them support and connect them to the right resources. You are absolutely right - you cannot make someone heal, and sometimes people are simply not in a place where they are ready to start the healing process, or even to start thinking more critically about their actions and experiences. Sometimes, people never get to that point - I have known a lot of people who did not get to live to see 25. That's an enormously painful and heavy thing. I remember the name and face of every youth I have ever lost, and there are countless more that I worry about all the time, even if I am no longer part of their lives.
It's not easy to cope with that kind of pain, but I find (I think) healthy ways to manage it. I do have to remind myself that it is not my role to save people; it is my role to do the best I can to provide the best support I can for whatever amount of time I have with a person, and I think I do that for all the folks that I work with. The support that I can give to a young person is not nothing, even if their stories do not have happy endings - if I can give a young person even a single day where they felt listened to and heard, even if I could not solve the problems, that is a worthwhile thing. My goal is not to steer people toward "good" decisions - my goal is to offer accurate information and a space for people to think critically about their decisions, and make informed choices about the decisions and risks that they feel are best for them. I am at peace with the work that I personally do with the clients I work with.
What I am not at peace with is the system I work within. For every client I work with who simply doesn't want help, I have dozens who are screaming out for it and are unable to get it. At the moment, I manage a short-term residential program for youth in crisis. The youth we work with have so many needs - they need housing. They need stability. They need a mental health appointment that isn't eight months away. They need reliable access to their prescriptions. They need educational and employment opportunities that are meaningful to them, with the supports they need to succeed. And for most of them, those basic supports are simply... not available. It doesn't matter how ready and eager the youth is; waitlists for basic services are months or even years long, and there's just nothing that any one individual worker can do to fix that overnight. It is not realistic to expect a person to make huge progress with their mental heath while they are living on a cot at an emergency housing program, cared for by a constantly-revolving cast of strangers, and yet that is what our system requires of its most vulnerable young people. Our system is pointlessly cruel, and benefits almost nobody. That part, I struggle with a lot.
As far as working in the field goes, I now supervise a large team of other professionals, and these are feelings that I help my staff work through in their own practice. The best advice I can give to people in the helping professions - or people potentially interested in a career there - to maintain your own mental health in the face of so much suffering is:
Take breaks. Use single every minute of your paid time off. Sometimes you need to take a break from a particular setting or even from the field entirely; if you feel burnout or despair or nihilism starting to creep up on you, start looking for an exit route. There will always be more jobs in social work/healthcare/emergency response, etc, but there is only one you.
Have a life outside of helping. I can't work full-time in this field and also spend every spare minute of my free time on activism and volunteering in this field. Perhaps some people can manage that, but if I tried it, my rage would simply consume me. I need other hobbies and interests if I'm going to be a functional person - whether it's painting, Netflix, novels, working out, cooking, time with friends, sports, camping or cars, everyone needs something they just enjoy.
Have a good supervisor. Obviously this is easier said than done, but if you are working in a field where you are constantly exposed to others' suffering and trauma, you should expect to have a supervisor who is available to debrief, discuss, vent and provide helpful feedback on the work you're doing. Supervision needs to be a safe space where you can speak openly about your struggles. If you do not have a supervisor who is doing that for you, it might be time to start the hunt for a new, more supportive job.
Remember your role. If I task myself with personally saving the whole world and fixing all of the problems I will lose my goddamn mind. I think it's important to remind ourselves "This is my role, this is the support I can provide, this is how I will know that I am doing a good job". "Saving people" can never be the goal I assign myself; if my role is to have supportive conversations and make connections to resources, I need to remind myself that those are the things I need to evaluate myself on and that I am doing a great job by doing that well, even if I am not "fixing" the client's entire life.
Remember your clients' autonomy. I think it's actually incredibly harmful for people in the helping professions to entertain the idea that they can "save" people, or that the outcome of someone's life is all dependent on how they do their jobs - I think that harms the professional as well as the client. We need to remember that we are not there to make people's choices for them. If a client continues to engage in "high-risk" behaviour, but they are well informed of the risk and know where they can find information and resources on managing that risk, that is a successful outcome, even if it doesn't instinctively "feel" like one.
Compartmentalize. Going home after work and staying up all night worrying about my clients might seem like an empathetic thing to do, but it benefits no one - it doesn't change their circumstances and just burns me out faster, leaving them with less support. Obviously we are all human and it can be hard to "switch off" concern and thoughts about clients after leaving work, but I think it's a skill that is important to develop over time. It might feel cold to think "okay, it's 5:05, no more thinking about clients until 9am tomorrow", but doing this allows me to be more effective in the hours that I am actually available to provide support.
I would honestly encourage anyone in the helping professions who is struggling to seek mental health support for themselves. Many therapists have their own therapist. It is, truthfully, not easy to process the sheer amount of pain and suffering we see on a daily basis, and I think it's actually very important for all of us to seek the appropriate professional help with it, and not simply "suck it up" and push away our own pain because our clients are suffering more.
And, ultimately, this profession is just not for everyone. Some people are able to do this work and still enjoy their own lives, but some people simply are not, and there is absolutely no shame in admitting that to yourself. It is okay to realize that being exposed to that level of pain every day will harm you, and that that's not something you're able to take on - there are ways to help that don't involve such constant direct exposure to human misery, and we all need to keep ourselves healthy before we are able to help others.
Hope this answers your question!
MM
