When Tragedy Is On Your Screen: Coping With Secondary Trauma After the Assassination of Charlie Kirk

On September 10, 2025, many Americans picked up their phones or turned on the TV and watched, in real time or replay, the shocking news that Charlie Kirk had been fatally shot at a Utah Valley University event. In the days since, coverage has been relentless—clips, breaking banners, opinion segments, and live updates about the investigation and the suspect’s arrest. Even if you were nowhere near the campus, you may feel the aftermath in your body: a racing heart, a heavy chest, restless sleep, or a sense of unease that lingers long after you log off. These reactions have a name:

Secondary Trauma—the stress response that can follow exposure to another person’s traumatic event, often through media.

As a grief- and trauma-focused mental health provider, I want to normalize what you might be feeling—and offer practical ways to care for yourself and your family.

Why news about public violence hits so hard

Human nervous systems are built for connection and protection. When we watch a violent act, the brain often processes the images as if danger is near. The result can be PTSD-like symptoms—intrusive images, irritability, hypervigilance, avoidance of reminders—despite having no direct, first-hand exposure. The more vivid and repeated the coverage, the more our stress systems activate. This is especially true for people with prior trauma, for children and teens, and for anyone already under high stress.

It also feels personal when the victim is a public figure many people recognize, follow, or oppose. Public figures live in our mental “neighborhood.” When something terrible happens to one of them, our sense of safety and predictability is shaken. That’s not politics—that’s neuroscience.

Secondary trauma vs. vicarious trauma (quick definitions)

• Secondary traumatic stress (secondary trauma): Acute, short-term stress responses from exposure to someone else’s trauma—often through media or conversation.

• Vicarious trauma: Longer-term, cumulative change in worldview after repeated exposure to others’ trauma (more common among helping professionals).

Most “average Joe” viewers encountering repeated clips and headlines will experience the secondary form—symptoms that can resolve with care and time.

What you might notice in the next few days

• Body signs: headaches, tight chest, GI upset, fatigue, disrupted sleep.

• Mind signs: intrusive images, trouble concentrating, irritability, feeling “on edge,” numbness.

• Behavior signs: doomscrolling or, conversely, avoiding all news; snapping at family; skipping meals or routines.

None of these mean you’re “weak.” They mean your nervous system is doing its job a little too well.

A 72-hour plan to steady your nervous system

1. Titrate your exposure (don’t binge): Pick two short windows a day to check reputable updates, then log off. Disable autoplay, mute graphic keywords, and avoid comment sections. Your brain doesn’t need 50 angles of the same clip to believe it happened. (Details in this case are still evolving as investigators work; you won’t miss truth by waiting for verified summaries.)

2. Re-anchor in the present: Use a simple breath pattern—inhale 4, hold 4, exhale 6—for two minutes. Then orient: name five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, one you can taste. This tells your survival system, “I’m here, and I’m safe enough right now.”

3. Move the stress through: Walk, stretch, or do light chores. Trauma physiology moves through motion, not just thinking. Ten minutes helps.

4. Reconnect with people: Text one friend: “Hey, today feels heavy; can we talk later?” Co-regulation (borrowing calm from someone steady) is medicine.

5. Re-establish routine: Eat real meals, hydrate, go to bed on time. Predictability is stabilizing for the brain.

6. Create meaning without re-exposure: Light a candle, say a prayer, write a 3-line reflection, or donate to a cause you value. Rituals turn helplessness into purposeful compassion.

Talking with kids and teens about what they saw

Children and teens are especially sensitive to repeated images and sensational language. Keep it simple, honest, and age-appropriate:

• Validate and reassure: “A violent thing happened. You’re safe right now. It’s okay to feel sad, mad, or scared.”

• Limit replays: Turn off autoplay and avoid looping footage on shared screens.

• Offer agency: Ask, “What would help you feel a little better—drawing, playing outside, praying together?”

• Model coping: Let them see you breathe, take a break from your phone, and follow a calm routine.

If a child starts having nightmares, stomachaches, or clinginess, that’s a normal stress response. Keep structure, increase cuddles/connection, and reduce graphic media for a while.

Caring for relationships when emotions run hot

Events like this can inflame old divisions. You can hold convictions and hold compassion. Try these guardrails at home and online:

• Lead with humanity, not hot takes. Before posting, ask: “Does this help anyone feel safer or more seen?”

• Set boundaries: “I’m not up for a political debate tonight. Let’s check in on each other instead.”

• Speak from “I” statements: “I feel overwhelmed and need a break from the news.”

• Assume partial stories: Early reporting often shifts as facts clarify; it’s okay to say, “I’m waiting for confirmed updates.”

When to get extra support

Reach out to a trauma-informed counselor if, after a couple of weeks, you’re still experiencing any of the following:

• intrusive memories or nightmares several times a week

• ongoing avoidance that disrupts life (can’t drive, can’t work, can’t sleep)

• persistent hypervigilance, startle responses, or irritability

• hopelessness or thoughts of harming yourself

Crisis support is available 24/7 in the U.S. by calling or texting 988. If you’re outside the U.S., check your local crisis resources. Getting help is a sign of wisdom, not weakness.

For people of faith

If prayer is part of your life, invite structured moments that soothe the nervous system: a daily Psalm or breath prayer, a candle for the grieving, gratitude for small safeties. Faith practices work best as rhythms, not as doomscrolling bookends.

Choosing what kind of neighbor we’ll be

When a public figure is killed, it’s tempting to collapse into cynicism or rage. But our communities heal through ordinary gentleness: checking on a friend, keeping our kids’ bedtime, offering a meal, donating blood, writing a note to a first responder, or simply pausing before we speak. Violence feeds on dehumanization. Healing grows where dignity is practiced, even in disagreement.