By Carole Trottere (source)
Key points
- Compassion fatigue can affect those who have turned their pain into purpose.
- Sometimes we have to come off the front lines of this public health concern.
- Allot time for your grief process, or you can remain suspended in that grief and delay healing.
The opioid crisis has been a slow-moving catastrophe, now more than 20 years and counting. Granted, the overdose fatality rate has decreased by 27 percent, but over one million Americans have died from drug overdoses since the early 2000s. Synthetic opioids like fentanyl have turned a public health emergency into a national trauma, infiltrating every ZIP code in this country. Today, one in three Americans knows someone who has died of an overdose.
The emotional toll on caregivers, first responders, and grieving families is a quieter, deeper wound. What happens to those on the front lines? Not only the first responders and those in the field of recovery, but also the family members who have lost loved ones and often take on a new role of activist.
“It’s not uncommon for family members who’ve lost a loved one to throw themselves into advocacy,” says Steve Chassman, a licensed clinical social worker and executive director of the Long Island Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence. “A person’s grief and energy can be positively channeled. But if an individual doesn't allot time for their own grief process, they can remain suspended in that grief, delaying healing.”
That emotional suspension has a name: Compassion fatigue. It’s a form of secondary traumatic stress that comes from prolonged exposure to others’ pain. It’s especially common among healthcare workers, mental health professionals, first responders, and increasingly, among parents and siblings of overdose victims who’ve turned their loss into advocacy.
“Sometimes we have to come off the front lines of this public health crisis,” says Chassman. “We need to regroup and utilize self-care so we can reengage for others.”
Top Signs of Compassion Fatigue
Unlike “job burnout,” compassion fatigue is emotional and relational. Here are some warning signs:
- Emotional Exhaustion
You feel drained, numb, or emotionally depleted, with little energy for yourself or others. - Decreased Empathy
You may feel detached or irritated by others’ pain—an unconscious defense against overload. - Chronic Fatigue and Physical Symptoms
Tiredness that doesn’t improve with rest; often includes headaches, tension, or stomach issues. - Sleep Disturbances and Intrusive Thoughts
Trouble sleeping or replaying painful images and stories long after they occur. - Cynicism, Mood Swings, and Irritability
A sense of futility, frustration, or being emotionally on edge. - Isolation and Reduced Joy
Withdrawing from others and losing interest in work or once-enjoyable activities. - Lingering Grief or Guilt
A persistent sadness or responsibility that doesn’t ease with time.
“There’s a feeling of disempowerment,” Chassman says. “Why aren’t we solving this? I feel like we’ve been shoveling spaghetti uphill for 20 years, yet the toll continues to rise.”
This sense of futility, doing important work that feels perpetually undone, can leave even seasoned professionals feeling depleted and guilty for needing a break.
Grief counselor Sharon Greaney-Watt of Babylon, Long Island, calls compassion fatigue a “vicarious trauma.” She notes, “The work that a therapist does with clients can be emotionally draining due to consistent exposure to client trauma. As a therapist, one can experience it in many ways, and self-care is a number one priority.”
Making Space for Grief and Recovery
For many grieving parents, advocacy becomes a lifeline. It gives meaning to tragedy and channels their pain into purpose.
“I think the first reaction, especially when you're dealing with a public health crisis, is ‘I need to stop this,’” says Chassman. “A lot of that advocacy is genuine and important. But over time, it can be a warning sign that you're ignoring your own grief process.”
Healing from trauma, whether personal or professional, isn’t linear. It requires boundaries, rest, and above all, compassion for yourself.
Sometimes the bravest act isn’t staying in the fight. It’s stepping back, asking for help, and remembering that to keep others alive, you must first care for your own heart.
“We all need to take time to feed our souls by doing things that give us joy, allowing ourselves to feel joy, and acknowledging that we are deserving of all the love and joy the world has to offer,“ says Claudia Friszell, a family advocate. If we want those we counsel, help, and comfort to care for themselves, then we must model the behavior we encourage.”
5 Remedies for Compassion Fatigue
- Set Boundaries
Know when you're taking on too much. Saying “no” protects your empathy. - Prioritize Self-Care
Sleep, movement, meals, and fun—these are not luxuries. They’re essential. - Seek Support
Talk to a therapist or join a peer group. Sharing lightens the emotional load. - Take Breaks
Step away when needed. Short resets can restore balance. - Reconnect with Purpose
Reflect on why you do this work. Purpose fuels resilience.
Turning the Corner
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the national overdose fatality rate has dropped by 27 percent, a promising sign after years of heartbreaking statistics. Could this be proof that the advocacy and frontline work of families, clinicians, and community leaders is making a real difference?
“I think we always have to be wary about those stats,” Chassman cautions. “Going from 110,000 to 80,000 people dying annually is still tragic. But yes, we are trending in the right direction.”
Chassman credits that progress to tireless advocacy from families, widespread Naloxone distribution, expanded access to care, and greater public awareness.
“I always think of the analogy of throwing a pebble in a pond,” he says. “The splash isn’t the result. It’s the ripples that travel across the water. Those ripples of compassion and empathy extend into families, communities, and beyond. We have to believe that, or we wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning.” Despite the challenges, Chassman remains hopeful. “These are still hard times,” he says. “But I have to believe the efforts of moms and dads, grandparents, professionals, and people who’ve put themselves in harm’s way for the good of others are doing an abundance of good.”