We all look at empathy as a beautiful attribute, a quality we should happily possess and nurture. But have you ever wondered what happens to a person when their empathy runs amok? When they are overwhelmed with compassion? When their understanding reaches such an absurd level they almost become one with the object of their empathy?

I have.

Yes, I have come to know intimately that empathy can run out of control which is, obviously, unhealthy for all concerned.

I go back to a situation many years ago, when a fairly new friend lost her husband in a plane crash. She was a mess and, even though our acquaintanceship was young, I took it upon myself to be a mess with her. I showed up every day, to help with the details, to hug and cry, to hear stories and memories, drink wine and ultimately take over the planning of the memorial. I was consumed with this poor woman’s grief. I was consumed with doing everything in my power to help her through her grief. I was consumed. Period.

Until my then-husband very kindly took me aside and said, “Vickie, I am still alive. YOUR husband did not die. Why are you acting like this is YOUR tragedy?”

He was absolutely correct. I was so immersed in this tale of woe – a “there but for the grace of God go I” kind of story – I forgot to remember that this was NOT my narrative. Yes, I should be on deck to help out and yes, I should be a good friend and yes, I should empathize to the best of my ability. But NO. It was not my job nor was it in my best interest to saturate myself with her pain. It wasn’t in HER best interest either. Because the closer I got, the more she needed and the more I gave, the more she demanded. I became her lifeline until I myself collapsed in exhaustion. Emotional exhaustion.

But this is what an out-of-control empath does. Too much. Too strong. Too intense. Is there such a thing as being too helpful?

You’d think I might have learned my lesson. But no. My staggering desire to empathize with someone else’s adversity advanced the ultimate destruction of a long-term, very close friendship. With this troubled pal, I didn’t understand the term ‘boundaries’ so I never set them. I was available at all hours in all locations for all communications required by my dear damsel-in-distress. Her neediness sucked the life out of me and I let it happen. Over and over again. For years. Until our relationship imploded.

And that’s a fact most of us never see or recognize. Empathy is a divine and necessary ingredient to any affiliation. But even empathy – astute empathy – must have its limit. We must learn to make our hearts available without inviting them to be trampled on. We must learn to offer solace and space without sacrificing our own sovereignty. We must try to understand without living someone else’s problem as our own.

For many, this is not a dilemma. Lots of people are able to offer sympathy (“I feel so sorry for you”) without ever crossing into empathy (“I understand you and your pain”). I know people who quite consciously temper their engagement with overt self-preservation. People who “don’t get involved” because it’s “not really their business”. People who even call themselves “selfish” because their own comfort is more important than offering comfort to someone else.

I will not find fault nor will I condemn those people. Sure, in my perfect world we would all be a little more selfless, a little less self-absorbed and a whole lot more empathetic.

But …

In my perfect world I would also NOT be out of control. I would not dive into everyone’s pain-pool like it’s a day at the beach in July. I would not allow friendships to implode (or explode) because I never set proper, healthy boundaries in the first place. I would utilize my empathetic spirit wisely, in a way that is helpful to others without being detrimental to me. I would find that all-important balance between selflessness, compassion, generosity and self-care.

This is an ongoing, daily exercise. And if you too are an out-of-control empath, I am quite certain you know exactly what I am talking about. I know it sounds funny but I’ve concluded that controlling my empathy is much like controlling my wine intake or the number of cheeseburgers I consume. Availability is paramount but moderation is key.

Whether it is crying at the news, aiding a troubled friend, feeling my son’s pain like it’s my own or fearing for the entire world, I am no good to anyone if my out-of-control empathy ends up destroying ME. So, henceforth …

Control.

Empathy that is useful. Empathy that is reasoned. Empathy that is true. But …

Empathy that is in IN control.

For everyone’s benefit.