Caring without crumbling: Coping with vicarious trauma - 24/7 news
Like many therapists and like many humans, I’ve felt increasingly heavy-hearted lately.

The other night, my phone lit up with an alert: injuries reported in Liverpool, where crowds had gathered to celebrate LFC’s league win. My daughter was there. My breath caught in my throat. That long, familiar pause as I waited for a reply, praying she was safe. She was, thank goodness.
…But my nervous system didn’t get the message straight away. That tight knot in my chest lingered, and I felt the familiar wave of dread wash over me.
This isn’t new. I can trace it back to 9/11, when I sat frozen for hours in front of the television, watching the news unfold in real-time. Something in me changed that day. Since then, I find it almost impossible to go more than a couple of hours without checking the headlines, just in case something else has happened. Just in case the world has shifted again while I’ve been looking away.
And I know I’m not alone.
More and more, clients arrive in therapy carrying not just their grief but a sense of deep, global sorrow.
“It’s not just my anxiety anymore,” someone told me recently.
“It’s everything.”
They’re right. It is everything.
And there’s a name for this weight we’re all carrying, vicarious trauma.
What is vicarious trauma?
Vicarious trauma, also known as secondary trauma, happens when we absorb the pain of others. For years, it was primarily associated with therapists, doctors, and care in the helping professions. But now, everyone is at risk in this always-on, constantly-scrolling world.
Every alert. Every headline. Every image.
Our brains and our hearts are not designed to carry this much.
If you feel emotionally drained, anxious, hopeless, or even numb after consuming the news, you may be experiencing the emotional toll of compassion fatigue. It’s not a weakness. It’s the cost of caring, day after day, with no time to rest.
Emma’s story: When the news becomes too much
Let me introduce you to Emma (name changed), who came to me for online counselling after weeks of sleepless nights and rising panic. Her trigger? A news report showing the aftermath of an airstrike. “I can’t stop seeing it,” she told me. “It’s like it’s burned into my mind.”
As we explored it gently, Emma realised the news wasn’t just upsetting; it activated deep, older wounds. Memories of being a frightened child, powerless in the face of chaos, the news had opened a door she didn’t even realise was still there.
This is the power of vicarious trauma. It doesn’t just distress us. It can unearth old hurts and blur the lines between then and now. Left unacknowledged, it builds quietly, leaving us tired, irritable, tearful… or numb.
Why this matters more than ever
More people than ever are searching for answers online. Phrases like “emotional overwhelm,” “burnout from the news,” and “therapy for anxiety” are rising fast. And behind each of those searches is a person trying to keep going while carrying an invisible weight.
Whether you’re a therapist, a teacher, a parent, or just someone with a tender heart, your nervous system is doing a lot. It’s trying to process more than it was ever meant to. You might not need fixing, you might need rest.
How to protect your mental health in a hurting world
Here are some therapist-informed ways to create breathing room when the world feels too loud:
1. Limit your media intake
Choose when and how you check the news. Please stick to one or two trusted sources and avoid reading them first thing in the morning or before bed. You deserve peace.
2. Stay grounded in your body
Notice when your shoulders tense or your breath shortens. These aren’t annoyances. They’re signals that you’re overwhelmed. Pause. Breathe. Move gently.
3. Take small, meaningful action
Feeling helpless is one of the most complex parts. Even small gestures, such as donating, volunteering, or lighting a candle, can help restore a sense of agency.
4. Connect with others
You don’t have to carry this alone. Talk with someone you trust. Laugh. Share a meal. We heal in connection.
5. Consider therapy
You don’t need to wait for things to feel unbearable. Counselling offers space to decompress, make sense of what’s surfacing, and learn how to soothe your system.
A word for fellow therapists
To my colleagues in the helping professions: I see you. We hold so much. And sometimes, we forget that we’re not invincible. We absorb, contain, and care, but live in the same world as our clients.
We’re not immune. And we’re allowed to step back. To switch off. To feel it.
I do not want to be the strong one just for a little while. Let’s normalise that.
You were never meant to hold it all
So, if you’re feeling weary, please know this:
It’s not just you. It’s the world.
And you don’t have to carry it alone. You can care without crumbling. You can soften without shutting down. And you can still find beauty even now. Especially now.
