Behind the White Coat: The Silent Struggle of GP Mental Health

They care for us, but who cares for them?

When we think about mental health, we often picture those reaching out for support, not the ones holding the clipboard, writing referrals, or checking vitals. But across Australia, and right here in Canberra, a quiet crisis is unfolding behind closed clinic doors. General Practitioners (GPs), specialists, and hospital-based healthcare workers, the very people entrusted with safeguarding our wellbeing, are carrying a burden that remains largely invisible: their own.

It’s a crisis of culture, regulation, and recognition. And while support exists, such as the peer-led Doctors for Doctors service, many professionals still suffer in silence. The question is: why?

A Profession in Pain

Australia’s GPs are among the most trusted professionals in the country. Yet behind the calm exterior and clinical precision lies a growing problem. Recent studies suggest that between one in four and one in three doctors experience symptoms of psychological distress. Suicide rates among doctors are estimated to be two to three times higher than the general population, a figure that starkly contrasts with their role as life-preservers.

For Canberra's healthcare workers, the situation mirrors national trends. Long hours, increasing patient loads, administrative burdens, and the emotional weight of patient care combine to create fertile ground for burnout. And unlike many other jobs, medical professionals don’t have the luxury of taking a bad day lightly, the stakes are often life and death.

Despite widespread campaigns around mental health and help-seeking, doctors remain an underrepresented group in both the design and delivery of these supports. Their barriers are unique and systemic.

The Stigma That Costs Lives

Why don’t more doctors reach out for help?

The answer is as much about perception as policy. In Australia, healthcare professionals are governed by mandatory reporting laws. This means that if a treating practitioner believes a fellow doctor is impaired in a way that poses a risk to patients, they are legally obligated to report them to the Australian Health Practitioner Regulation Agency (AHPRA).

While intended to protect the public, these regulations have had unintended consequences. Fear of professional consequences, including investigation, suspension, or deregistration, often stops doctors from seeking early intervention for anxiety, depression, or stress. Instead, they bottle it up, work through it, or leave the profession entirely.

The regulatory framework assumes that a doctor's health status and their competence are the same thing. But that isn’t how mental health works. A doctor struggling with burnout doesn’t necessarily pose a risk, but if they’re too afraid to seek help, the risk escalates.

Who Supports the Supporters?

Other frontline professions in Australia, such as police, fire and rescue, and Defence, have well-funded, dedicated mental health and trauma support programs. These are embedded in workforce strategies, often come with confidential counselling, and are supported by peer networks and education. Many receive direct federal or territory funding.

But for doctors?

Support exists, but it is piecemeal, volunteer-led, and severely underfunded. Doctors for Doctors (Drs4Drs), a national initiative coordinated by the Doctors’ Health Alliance, provides a 24/7 helpline staffed by fellow medical professionals. The aim is simple: peer-to-peer support without judgment. No clinical notes, no risk of mandatory reporting, and no need to explain the emotional toll of the job, because the person on the other end of the line already understands.

Drs4Drs is a lifeline. But it’s a lifeline held together by goodwill. Most of its responders are volunteers. Infrastructure funding is limited. And with federal funding due to lapse in some states, the future of the program remains uncertain.

The contradiction is startling: one of the most essential, high-risk professions in our society relies on unpaid support networks to care for its own.

In a system where burnout is not the exception but the norm, why isn’t this service properly resourced?

Canberra’s Layered Challenge

Canberra is home to a unique mix of private clinics, community health centres, and high-pressure hospital environments. Like other parts of the country, the ACT faces GP shortages, long wait times, and growing pressure from complex patient needs, especially in mental health, chronic illness, and aged care. But unlike many other professions, doctors are trained to put their own needs last.

When a GP sees 30 patients in a day, fills out reams of paperwork, fields emergency calls, and still goes home worrying about the family they couldn’t quite help, that load compounds. When they experience the death of a patient, a misdiagnosis, or the slow erosion of compassion fatigue, it stays with them. Yet unlike trauma in other fields, there's no safe cultural space to process, and no systemic expectation that doctors should seek support.

Over time, these invisible wounds accumulate. And while the public health system celebrates resilience and ‘toughing it out’, the reality is that unspoken pain rarely heals on its own.

When Care Goes Missing

The implications of this mental health crisis go beyond doctors themselves. Research consistently shows that physicians experiencing burnout are more likely to make diagnostic errors, prescribe incorrectly, or disengage emotionally from patients. This doesn’t mean they’re bad doctors, it means they’re human.

The ripple effect extends to entire communities. When experienced GPs leave the profession early due to burnout, or reduce their hours to cope, access to care worsens. When junior doctors see their mentors suffering in silence, they internalise a harmful norm. When health professionals operate in a system that punishes vulnerability, everyone loses.

Funding the Fix Or Failing Forward?

It’s not as though the problem is invisible. The mental health needs of doctors have been raised in Senate Inquiries, industry white papers, and national wellbeing strategies. The issue is not awareness, it's will. Doctors for Doctors should not be scraping for survival. It should be embedded in a fully-funded, national approach to clinician wellbeing, with the same legitimacy and priority as any other emergency service.

And yet, despite compelling evidence, federal investment in structured peer support remains minimal. Most states do not have dedicated wellbeing programs for medical practitioners beyond the volunteer workforce. Even fewer offer proactive, preventative mental health strategies, the kind that can stop burnout before it becomes crisis.

This raises the question:

Why are we willing to fund psychological support for police officers, soldiers, and firefighters, but not doctors?

Is it because society views doctors as elite professionals, assumed to have it all together? Is it because their emotional labour is invisible, neatly folded under the collar of a lab coat? How do you feel about it?

Reimagining the System

The healthcare system doesn’t need another ribbon-cutting ceremony. It needs a reset. That means reforming regulation to remove disincentives to seek help. It means embedding trauma-informed debriefing into medical training. And it means investing in models that already work, like Drs4Drs, to ensure they have the infrastructure, workforce, and longevity they deserve.

This is not just a moral issue. It’s a safety issue. A sustainability issue. A public health issue.

Imagine a Canberra where every GP knows they can call a peer, confidentially, after a rough shift. Where registrars are trained not just in patient care but in self-care. Where burnout is not dismissed as a rite of passage, but seen as a system failure. That is not a utopian vision. It’s what our health system could be, if we had the courage to prioritise the people who keep it running.

What You Can Do

This isn’t an issue for the health sector alone. If you’re a patient, a policymaker, or simply someone who values the care you receive, this is your issue too. Advocate. Ask questions. Pay attention to the wellbeing of your GP just as you would a teacher, carer, or friend.

Most importantly, we need to change the story. From “doctors are strong” to “doctors are human.” From “don’t ask, don’t tell” to “let’s make it safe to speak.”

Make a donation to Drs4Drs to enable the continuation of this service, because if they are not cared for, we are not cared for.

Because in a city that prides itself on community and care, our GPs deserve more than a thank you. They deserve a system that cares back.