Empathy Fatigue

“Phwoar!” I said to my brother-in-law Joe the other day, as he told me how many patients he squeezes into a day’s work as a physiotherapist.

“You must be frazzled,” I said.

“I’m done by the afternoon,” Joe replied, “I run out of empathy.”

This really resonated with me.

And, after completing a 3-day kettlebell certification the other week, it made me think about empathy as a type of fitness.

See, you can be fit as the proverbial fiddle, but if, like me, you finish 3 days of intense exercise and only have the use of your left arm, your capacity to perform is somewhat limited.

Likewise, if you are an empathetic person, but you are nearing the end of a day in which several tons of emotional energy has been offloaded from their human vessels onto you, your capacity to be empathetic is somewhat limited.

It doesn’t mean you are unfit if you cannot run without rest for a whole day.

Nor does it mean you are not empathetic because you cannot be fully, patiently empathetic with all people at all times.

It’s an obvious truth that, however fit and powerful we (think we) are, we all have physical limitations, which we work around, work to replenish, and work to improve.

In terms of empathy – one’s capacity to have patience and compassion and love for those who are entrusting you with their personal issues – our ‘performance’ sometimes drops after a day or week or month of exertion, and likewise we need to work around these limits, replenish them, and if we can, improve them.

This is so obvious now that I see it written in front of me, yet last week I felt frustrated at reaching something of an empathetic limit.

It is frustrating that we cannot guarantee adequate time and love and attention to those who need it all the time, and that people potentially less deserving put demands on these precious reserves.

Feeling that frustration is a good thing, it means you care.

It also means it’s time to refill your own glass rather than fuss over the fact that you cannot always fill others.