14/03/2026
You never quite know what the day will bring in our sector.
The past two weeks have certainly been testing.
Recently, one of our participants began saying inappropriate things to one of our support workers during a shift. Our worker remained calm and handled the situation professionally, making the decision to head back to our office to ensure their own safety.
Shortly after they arrived, while I was on a Zoom call upstairs, I heard screaming coming from downstairs. I immediately left the call and went to see what was happening.
The participant was in a highly heightened state — throwing items around the office, smashing their phone, punching walls. The first priority was safety. I asked our team to move into our safety room where they could remain protected and out of earshot.
I tried to calmly talk to the participant and reassure them. In that moment they began banging their head against the table. Instinctively, I stepped in to prevent them from harming themselves further and held them. I gave them a hug to help ground them.
What happened next was a powerful reminder of why we do what we do.
They broke down and cried in my arms.
I simply held them until they were ready to let go.
Once things settled, we went for a drive and had a long conversation. What came out was something we hear far too often in our sector, feelings of being unheard, of believing that nobody cares, that family and loved ones have given up on them.
In that moment, what they needed most was not judgement, not control, not escalation.
They needed someone to listen.
They needed someone to tell them they matter.
They thanked me for allowing them to release those emotions with someone who cared.
Our support worker understandably felt shaken by the experience, but I cannot speak highly enough of how our team handled the situation. They stayed calm, followed safety procedures, and supported each other in the safety room until things settled. That professionalism and care is something I am incredibly proud of.
The participant later expressed deep remorse for their behaviour and apologised for how they spoke to our support worker.
We also organised an urgent appointment with their psychologist rather than waiting the usual two weeks, which they attended the following day to continue working through what they were feeling.
Moments like these remind us that support work is not always about community outings or daily tasks.
Sometimes it is about being present in someone’s darkest moment and helping them find their way back.
Not every story in this sector is easy.
But every moment reminds us why compassion, patience, and genuine human connection matter so much.
To everyone working in this space, support workers, coordinators, clinicians and providers thank you for the work you do.
Because sometimes the most powerful support we can give someone…
is simply letting them know they are not alone.