When Caring Feels Costly and the Price of Witness Fatigue
- Brainz Magazine
- Sep 5
- 5 min read
Leonie Blackwell is the founder of Empowered Tapping® and a naturopath with over 30 years' experience in emotional wellbeing. She trains practitioners globally and empowers individuals through her Bwell Institute and personal growth community, the Tappers Tribe.
When pain lingers without resolution, relationships often shift in ways that feel confusing and isolating. Friends and family who once offered support may quietly step back, not out of malice, but from something harder to name, witness fatigue. This article explores what happens when caring feels costly, why people pull away from long-term suffering, and three key insights to help both those in pain and those who love them navigate this tender reality.
3 things to understand when people pull away from long-term pain
I hear it in the words of my clients, this confusion about the response or rejection coming from people in their lives. Underneath the surface lies the endlessness of suffering, a reality where they are battling illness or pain for an extended period of time. They are locked in grief or bound by old wounds from the loss of a relationship or a dysfunctional childhood.
As the weeks turn to months, and the months to years, something has changed in the support and understanding offered by friends and family.
It stopped. And not because they healed. But because they didn’t.
This silent fading of friendships can be one of the most painful parts of living with long-term illness, trauma, addiction, or emotional struggle. It’s hard not to personalise the absence as you feel alone and isolated. The confusion invites in uncomfortable doubts. Have I become too much? Am I too broken? Too negative? Too demanding?
What those pulling back are experiencing is something I call witness fatigue.
What is witness fatigue?
Witness fatigue is the emotional exhaustion that arises from repeatedly holding space for someone else’s ongoing pain, trauma, or illness, especially when the witness feels powerless to help or fix the situation.
It’s not the same as caregiver burnout, which affects those actively supporting someone day-to-day. Witness fatigue happens silently in the background, in friendships, social circles, and extended families, when people feel emotionally overloaded by your story, even if they’re not part of its daily demands.
The overwhelm others feel watching you struggle makes them uncomfortable. The sense of helplessness builds until they need to release the pressure. Most don’t know how to name it, so pulling away feels easier. There’s no malice in their actions. For them, it’s self-preservation. But to you, it feels like abandonment. It feels like you’re failing, unable to live up to others’ expectations, punished for the imperfection your reality gives you.
The reason I could see it in my clients was because I lived it.
When I was in my 20s, I became chronically ill with Human Seminal Plasma Hypersensitivity. It took two years for doctors to diagnose the cause of the debilitating pain crippling my life. But with that diagnosis came the words, “We have no cure. You’ll have to learn to live with it.” There was no end in sight.
I’d been married for a year, and we were still in love. He had grown up longing to be a father. All our dreams for the future were shattered. There was just pain. My autoimmune system viewed human proteins as a threat, so it mounted a full-throttled attack. It was my body that was breaking down. By the time I was diagnosed, everything I ate made me feel sick or nauseous. By the three-year mark, we decided to separate.
Now my heart hurt as much as my body. With no treatment options available in the medical world, I turned to natural therapies and found hope but no quick solutions. Seven years after the pain began, it stopped, but it was two more years before the supplement that finally switched off my autoimmune response came on the market, and I took it for two full years to ensure it had finally calmed down.
Needless to say, throughout that decade of illness, I watched friends fade away. By the time I was on the healing side, I had no one left to tell. They’d all gone. I get it. Witness fatigue. My sadness was sad. The injustice is unjust. The confusion is confusing. The heartache is heartbreaking. It was a lot to live through. It was too hard for friends to witness.
Three things you need to know
1. Most people confuse witnessing with fixing
In our solution-focused culture, love is often equated with action:
“Let’s find a way to fix this.”
“Think positive!”
“Have you tried?”
But what happens when the pain isn’t fixable? When the story doesn’t resolve? The grief lingers? The illness has no cure?
Few people are taught how to sit with someone they love in their pain. The idea of holding space without personalising their fears is a hard lesson to learn. The discomfort more often than not leads to avoidance. Not exposing themselves makes logical sense to their brains. “If I can’t fix them, then I have nothing to offer” justifies their retreat.
Witnessing asks us to just be there. If that means listening to the heartache another dozen times, then that’s what we do. Witnessing asks us to see the person behind the illness, grief, loss, and pain. To remember they are doing the best they can and that they are more than just their circumstances.
2. Chronic pain defies the emotional timeline people expect
Society likes neat timelines. We’re conditioned to expect a story of hardship, followed by triumph. A comeback. A breakthrough. Something that wraps up in a tidy, feel-good bow. Just like on TV or in the movies.
When someone’s journey doesn’t follow that structure, when the struggle stretches out with no clear ending, people don’t know how to hold space for it.
They silently start asking:
“Shouldn’t you be over this by now?”
“Aren’t you better yet?”
“Do you really need to keep talking about it?”
Continued pain challenges their worldview. It reminds them that not everything gets tied up. That some wounds don’t fully heal. And that truth is uncomfortable to sit with for too long.
3. It’s not your job to shrink your story for others
Other people’s discomfort is their responsibility. It’s tempting to think you have to start silencing yourself or downplay your reality. Censoring yourself to protect others’ discomfort merely adds to the hardship of your journey. Now you’re suffering and alone.
It’s at this point that you need a mantra to keep things in perspective, “It’s my journey, not theirs. I am grateful that they care and want me to heal. There are days when this is all too much for me. It’s only natural that it gets too much for them. We all need a break. We all need support.”
Your experiences are sacred. Your choices are yours. Witness fatigue is real, and it is born from love.
A new way forward
If you are noticing witness fatigue in friends and family, open the door to understanding. Let them know they aren’t here to fix you, but their support, love, and kindness mean the world to you.
If you recognise the rising presence of witness fatigue within yourself, take a breath and remember their struggles are not for you to fix. Your presence is everything, your solutions are not required.
Stay close. Stay kind. Stay open.
Love transcends. Connection softens the fear of the unknown and the unknowable.
Read more from Leonie Blackwell
Leonie Blackwell, Naturopath, Author & Teacher
Leonie Blackwell is a leader in emotional wellness, with over 30 years of experience as a naturopath and educator. She is the creator of Empowered Tapping® and founder of the Bwell Institute, offering accredited practitioner training and transformational personal development. Leonie has worked with thousands of clients, trained hundreds of students, and has taught internationally, including trauma recovery programs for refugees. Her published works include Making Sense of the Insensible, The Box of Inner Secrets and Accessing Your Inner Secrets. She is passionate about helping others live with authenticity, purpose, and joy.
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