Guarding against vicarious trauma

In her mid-sized family law firm in Brampton, Ontario, Kavita Bhagat sees daily evidence of just how badly relationships can unravel. The clients who come through her doors are grappling with mental abuse, family conflict and intimate partner violence — often with no easy resolution in sight.

She says being exposed to their pain, day after day, takes a toll.

“It chips away at us constantly.”

Bhagat has seen sunny dispositions darken. Some of her colleagues wake up crying at night. She has become hyper-vigilant about personal conflict checks.

Whether you call it vicarious trauma or secondary traumatic stress, internalizing heartbreaking stories or gut-churning evidence is an occupational hazard for many legal professionals. This is especially true if particular aspects of a case hit close to home.

The effects can include depression, anger, numbness, and cynicism, which can extend into personal relationships and professional lives.

“You get crabby with your kids, you get abrupt with the people you love outside of the law, or you start to get abrasive with the people that you practice with,” says Donald Murray, a 40-year legal veteran who runs a solo criminal law practice in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia.

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Left unaddressed, vicarious trauma can lead to serious consequences. It starts to erode professional performance. Burnout is a big risk. Lawyers may turn to substance abuse or leave the profession entirely. In extreme cases, it can lead to suicide.

And although it has been a recognized issue for decades in emotionally charged areas like family, criminal, personal injury, and refugee law, vicarious trauma remains a persistent problem.

Why the risk runs deep

Part of the reason rests in the type of person those areas of practice attract.

“The individual who goes into that kind of work is often a very compassionate individual who really, really wants to help,” says Toronto lawyer-turned-therapist Doron Gold.

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“And that person often doesn’t feel like they’re doing their job right if they’re not hurting with the client.”

For some, the draw is even more personal. Lawyers may choose a particular field to right the wrongs they themselves have suffered or witnessed, be it sexual abuse, physical violence, neglect, or other kinds of harm. While that personal connection can deepen their commitment, it also amplifies their vulnerability.

Workplace structure can compound the risk. Solo practitioners often lack office colleagues to confide in or debrief with. In larger firms, lawyers may hesitate to admit they’re struggling for fear they won’t be assigned files.

And in a broader legal culture, where many lawyers are still told to “suck it up,” many see their distress as a sign of personal weakness or failure.

An ounce of prevention

Every lawyer takes a different approach to managing the risk of vicarious trauma, but a few basic practices can boost your resilience.

Set healthy professional boundaries

Admittedly, drawing boundaries is hard to do, especially in family law, where it’s so easy to identify with the dynamics of a client’s case.

“We all have a family. We all are someone’s child,” Bhagat says.

That said, a lawyer is hired to address a legal problem. And while having empathy for your client is helpful, it’s important not to immerse yourself in their pain, grievance, and trauma, Gold says.

Even if you had the time and the inclination, you can’t fix all the issues your clients are facing.

“We’re dealing with people who are ultimately responsible for their own lives,” he says.

“Sometimes they have trouble helping themselves, and you can help guide them a little bit. But they are ultimately the ones with hegemony over their own life.”

Know your warning signs and adjust accordingly

Everybody responds to potentially traumatic stimuli differently, depending on their past experiences and how they’re wired. For some, disturbing video evidence fuels nightmares for months. Others find it easier to put it out of their mind, only to be hit hard by another aspect of a file.

Understanding your own emotional and physical baseline makes it easier to notice when everyday stress shifts into more serious territory. Are you feeling more irritable, anxious or withdrawn? Suffering from chronic fatigue or other physical ailments? Experiencing a sense of hopelessness or helplessness?

Once you’ve figured out what types of cases have a bigger impact, decide how you’re going to deal with them, Murray advises. What that looks like will depend on the particulars of your practice. Can you turn down trauma-triggering cases? Or space them out? Or build dedicated downtime into your schedule to rest and reset?

“It’s up to you as a lawyer to manage how much of that work you can do and what you do to avoid falling prey to the damage that it can do to you,” he says.

Make time to debrief

When you’ve had a tough session with a client or a disturbing day in court, talking it through with colleagues who “get it” can make a significant difference. If you don’t have colleagues in the office, create your own peer community.

Alternatively, turn to professionals.

“I’m encouraging people to reach out to external therapists as opposed to discussing it more in the office,” Bhagat says.

“Because when we discuss it, it’s almost like a badge of honour, right? It’s like, ‘oh, my case is worse than yours.’”

Take care of yourself

It’s easy to play down the importance of self-care, Gold warns. People think they’re too busy. Or it’s something other lawyers need, not them. But operating without those foundations is not sustainable.

Get enough sleep, take vacations, and don’t overuse substances. Make sure you have physical, creative or spiritual outlets, or channel some of your compassion into volunteer work.

“The law is not your whole life — can’t be your whole life,” says Murray.

“Otherwise, you’re in trouble.”

Aim for excellence, not perfection

Finally, set yourself realistic goals. Lawyers are trained to pursue the best possible outcome, but there’s a limit to how hard you can push yourself. That’s especially important to remember in cases where the law offers few solutions.

“There are some bad situations where you can’t actually provide a lot of tangible help,” Murray says.

“It gets very frustrating if you’re trying to get those positive results and they’re just not there.”

The human factor

Bhagat believes senior lawyers need to speak up about the reality of vicarious trauma in certain fields of law, so that younger lawyers feel safer discussing it.

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“Once we open up the conversation and the dialogue about this, things will start getting a lot better in the profession,” she says.

The bottom line is that lawyers are human beings with vulnerabilities like everyone else — and looking after yourself is not a sign of selfishness or weakness.

“Our goal is to actually be able to do the work,” Gold says.

“You’re useless to the people that you’re trying to help if there’s nothing left of you.”