When the World Feels Heavy: Understanding Secondary Traumatic Stress in the Age of Global Trauma

Amanda Rocheleau, RSW
Sep 22
4 min read

If you’re a helper, chances are you’ve already heard of secondary traumatic stress (STS). It’s what happens when we take in the suffering of others so deeply that our own minds and bodies begin to show signs of stress. Traditionally, this concept was applied to those in direct helping roles like therapists, nurses, social workers, and first responders. But let’s be honest, in today’s world, none of us are immune.

Between globalization, the 24-hour news cycle, and social media - trauma travels fast. With one swipe, we can find ourselves staring at a video of war, natural disasters, racial violence, or human suffering in real time. And unlike in the past, where news was occasional and filtered, we are now constantly exposed to stories and images that can hit us right in the heart.

Why Secondary Trauma Hits Harder Now

Constant exposure: Social media feeds repeat and amplify traumatic content. Doomscrolling late at night is almost a recipe for nervous system overload.
Empathy in overdrive: Globalization makes it easy to see ourselves in others across the world. When a child, parent, or frontline worker’s story echoes our own lives, our empathy intensifies (this is kinda beautiful, but also draining).
Vicarious vulnerability: Even if we’re safe in our own homes, constant images of global crises can make us feel like the world is collapsing around us.
Layered impact for helpers: If you’re already working in a profession where trauma is front and center, the added global backdrop can feel like “too much on top of too much.”

What Secondary Traumatic Stress Looks Like

STS can sneak up on us. Sometimes the symptoms are nuanced and subtle, and other times they’re glaringly obvious. They can also overlap with symptoms of other conditions (for example, anxiety or depression) making them easy to overlook or misattribute.

You might notice:

Intrusive thoughts or images (sometimes replaying things you’ve seen online or turning a story you've heard into a movie in your mind).
Feeling emotionally numb or detached, almost like you’re on autopilot (I often call it "Zombie mode")
Trouble sleeping or concentrating.
A sense of hopelessness, despair, or compassion fatigue.
Irritability or feeling on edge, without a clear reason.

Sound familiar? You’re not alone. And most importantly, it doesn’t mean you’re weak... it means you’re human.

If you’d like to take a closer look at how this might be showing up for you, visit my free resources page where you’ll find tools such as the Professional Quality of Life Scale (ProQOL) and the Secondary Traumatic Stress Scale (STSS) to help you assess your own symptoms.

Protecting Ourselves Without Shutting Down

Here’s the tricky part: we don’t want to stop caring. In fact, our ability to empathize with others is one of the most powerful tools we have for fostering connection and understanding the human experience. Empathy allows us to step into someone else’s shoes, to feel their joys and sorrows, and to respond with compassion.

But empathy without boundaries can leave us depleted. When we immerse ourselves too deeply in the struggles of others without maintaining a healthy distance, we risk losing sight of our own needs and well-being. This doesn’t mean we should become indifferent or unfeeling; it means learning to engage with empathy in a way that is sustainable.

By setting clear emotional boundaries, we give ourselves permission to both care deeply and preserve our own resilience. This balance allows us to remain present and supportive without being consumed by the weight of others’ experiences. In turn, we can keep showing up with compassion that is steady and renewable, not draining.

Here are some practices to help:

Mindful media habits: Curate your feeds, set screen limits, and give yourself permission to not click on the video that has the "graphic content warning". You don’t need to be a 24/7 witness to suffering in order to care.
Ground your body: When you feel the heaviness, pause. Try slow intentional breathing, stretching, humming, or stepping outside. Simple nervous system resets can help bring you back into balance.
Debrief safely: Find a trusted person to talk with about how exposure to trauma is affecting you. (Remember: this doesn’t mean rehashing graphic details, but sharing your emotional response and needs.)
Compassion with boundaries: Care deeply, but don’t absorb it all. Imagine the pain passing through you rather than sticking to you. My mantra is "Be the strainer, not the container" - letting other people's pain pass through me while in their presence, instead of my absorbing it.
Turn pain into purpose: If a story deeply impacts you, consider taking one small action like donating, advocating, or volunteering. Doing something compassionate helps shift feelings of helplessness into empowerment.

The Takeaways

We’re living in a time when trauma feels closer than ever, even when it isn’t our own. For helpers and caregivers especially, this adds an invisible weight that can quietly erode resilience. Naming this for what it really is, secondary traumatic stress, is an important first step. It gives us permission to say: this is hard for me too.

Your empathy is a strength, but it needs protection. By setting boundaries, finding ways to process what you take in, and practicing intentional care, you can keep your heart open without being overwhelmed.

Because the truth is, the world doesn’t need you to carry all its pain. It needs you to stay whole enough to keep showing up with compassion that is sustainable, not exhausting.

Reflection Homework

Take a few minutes today to ask yourself: