The Cost of Caring: Self Care for The Rescuers and Fixers

“We focus more on helping others than helping ourselves.”

That tension sat at the center of a candid conversation in Sebastian County, where Megan Murphy-Potts, DCFS Social Services County Manager, named a hard truth: those called to help are often the worst at caring for themselves.

As cross-sector advocates and providers gathered, the focus wasn’t just on burnout—it was on what it will actually take to sustain the people carrying the weight of crisis every day.

Megan emphasizes the hard reality from her experience with DCFS: “Everyone is important but we are getting pulled in every direction. We live crisis to crisis and that is stressful.”

Courtnee Harlan, County Coordinator for the 100 Families Initiative, underscored what’s at stake. High caseloads and constant turnover don’t just impact providers—they impact families. And while solutions like increased pay or shift changes are often proposed, they’ve failed to address the root of the problem.

So the question remains: what actually works?

For Madison Dickerson, Director of Field Education at UAFS, self-care is not something reserved for moments of crisis—it’s built into the everyday.

“It is the daily things that you do every day, not just the breaks.”

This perspective challenges a common misconception that self-care is reactive rather than preventative. In fact, she emphasized that students entering the field often underestimate its importance until they experience the weight of the work firsthand.

Self-care, at its core, is about sustainability. It’s about creating rhythms that allow individuals to continue showing up—not just for others, but for themselves.

For Lisa Albuja, Co-Owner and Clinical Director at CPTMH, intentionality isn’t just about scheduling breaks—it’s about honest self-awareness. It means recognizing what you’re carrying into the work, and how your own story can shape the way you show up for others.

“We're more inclined to be people pleasers, rescuers, and fixers. If we come from adverse childhood experiences, we carry a core belief of please and appease.”

That instinct to help often runs deeper than the job itself. Without clear boundaries, it can blur the line between serving others and losing yourself. Self-awareness is key—recognizing when you’re carrying too much and facing the reality that no one is immune to compassion fatigue. Self-care isn’t passive; it’s a deliberate choice to stay grounded so you can show up in a way that’s healthy, sustainable, and truly helpful.

Madison Dickerson pointed to a deeper issue—one rooted in culture itself.

“As a society, we glorify stress.”

In that environment, burnout becomes a badge of honor. If you’re not overwhelmed, it can feel like you’re not working hard enough.

But beneath that pressure is something quieter—and heavier. Shame.

Megan shared how difficult it can be to admit when the work is taking a toll, especially in roles built around helping others. Struggling can feel like failure, like you’re not capable of the job.

Even those who understand compassion fatigue best aren’t immune to that hesitation.

Madison points out that compassion fatigue is often referred to as “the cost of caring.”

“Just because you're taking a break, doesn't mean you don't care," she adds.

In fact, the opposite may be true—burnout isn’t a sign you don’t care enough. It’s a sign you’ve been carrying too much for too long.

That’s why recognizing when stress crosses into something more serious is so critical.

Megan pointed to subtle but telling shifts: a worker sitting in their car in the parking lot, hesitating to walk inside and start the day.

Madison highlighted even deeper warning signs—when someone begins to act outside of their ethics, unable to decompress or process what they’re carrying.

Albuja described the internal toll with clarity—starting in the mind, but never staying there.

“Eventually, its gonna take a toll physically.”

She explained how prolonged stress builds over time, creating a cumulative impact on both brain and body. What starts as mental strain can lead to deeper physiological responses—constant cortisol and adrenaline, nervous system dysregulation, and cycles of shutdown or hyper-reactivity.

“When the brain breaks down, the body is going to break down. If the body is going to break down, the brain breaks down.”

At its most severe, that stress can show up as generalized anxiety that isn’t tied to a specific situation, catastrophizing, or heightened reactions—anger, fight, or flight responses that feel difficult to control.

What happens when that level of stress goes unchecked doesn’t stay contained—it starts to affect the very people providers are trying to help.

Lisa put it simply: “If I'm not in a good place, I cant be good for anyone else.”

When compassion fatigue is ignored, it doesn’t just impact the individual—it ripples through entire systems of care. Burnout, turnover, and disengagement don’t just affect providers; they directly impact the families those systems are meant to support.

But when that stress is managed well, the outcome can look very different.

Madison often reminds her students that how they care for themselves matters just as much as how they care for others. The way providers manage their own stress becomes a model for the families they serve—showing that stability, boundaries, and self-care aren’t just ideas, but something that’s actually possible.

While the challenges are complex, the panelists emphasized that solutions can start small and be built into daily routines.

Dickerson emphasized the importance of building simple boundaries into the day—starting with something as basic as stepping away. She encouraged providers not to eat lunch in their cars or while working, creating space to mentally reset. She also pointed to reflection as a practical tool, noting that journaling can help “get it off the brain” and prevent stress from building over time.

Albuja took it a step further, focusing on how we process what we carry. She highlighted cognitive strategies that anyone can practice—examining your self-talk and reframing it with grace and compassion. How would you speak to a friend or someone you care about? That same approach, paired with mindfulness, can create the intentionality needed to stay grounded.

Megan offered a practical reset: step outside for five minutes when the stress starts to build. But she was quick to add—that kind of individual habit can only go so far.

“Nobody understands what you go through except the staff that goes through it with you," she said.

Sustainable self-care isn’t just personal—it’s relational. It requires teams that communicate, work through challenges together, and actively support one another in carrying the weight.

“That's the key--no matter what agency, no matter where you work--its coming together.”

At its core, this conversation pointed to something deeper: we are more effective in helping others when we are healthy ourselves. When providers are grounded, supported, and able to manage the weight of their work, they show up with greater clarity, consistency, and care.

Taking care of yourself isn’t stepping away from the work—it’s what allows you to do it well.