An Industry of Anxiety.

I remember my first days as a creative professional. Freshman year of college, sitting in the architecture studio with about a hundred other students, our professor told us bluntly that half of us wouldn’t make it through the year. And by graduation, that number had shrunk even more. Those intense college years have a way of staying with you. I still wake up some nights with my heart racing, thinking I’m minutes from a critique with an unfinished project. Waking up in cold sweats, out of breath, heart racing. The dread, fear, and anxiety—that stuff sticks. Am I alone in this consistent dream?

But here’s the thing: it shouldn’t have to be this way. It’s frustrating to think that so many of us come out of school already conditioned to feel anxious. And now, fifteen years later, as I work with more and more young creatives, I see it all the time. The pressure is real—constant deadlines, client feedback that’s hard to pin down, competition with peers, worrying about job security. Anxiety is baked into our industry!

Some people will say, “That’s just how it is.” But is that good enough? I don’t think so. When I look at how this industry works, I see anxiety driving much of it. It’s become part of the creative world’s culture, shaping how we work, how we view ourselves, and ultimately, how we handle our mental health.

It took me years of conversations with other creatives and countless replays of Inside Out 2 with my two-year-old to really see this. Whether it’s young designers starting out, seasoned pros, or clients managing huge budgets, there’s a common thread: anxiety.

Think about it. Anxiety, by definition, is “intense, excessive, and persistent worry about everyday situations.” Sound familiar? In architecture school, we had critiques 3 times a week. Now, in the industry, we’re evaluated by managers, clients, and colleagues daily. The pressure never really eases up, and this isn’t just “paying your dues.” We’re facing real, measurable fallout from this stress:

? 70% of media, marketing, and creative professionals experienced burnout in the last year, according to the 2024 Mentally Healthy Survey. In that same survey, young professionals under 30 report some of the highest levels of anxiety and depression, driving even higher burnout rates.

? 71% of agency workers felt burned out, with 65% saying their mental health declined because of work stress, according to a 2021 survey by The Drum.

I keep asking myself: why do we just accept this as “normal”? Yes, we could chalk it up to capitalism, but that’s the easy way out. Here’s the hard truth: if I burn out, that’s on me. Why? Because we all have some level of control over where we work, who we work with, and how we engage in this industry. But college didn’t teach me that. Instead, we were trained to follow orders or risk failure. We paid for the privilege of doing whatever the professor—i.e. the client—said. That might work in school, but it’s no way to build a sustainable career.

It’s time to make it plain for everyone to hear…anxiety and burnout are related. Surprise surprise! Below are five perspectives to showcase how anxiety feeds into burnout and why it’s so common in creative fields:

? Anxiety fuels burnout. It drives us to meet deadlines, strive for perfection, and avoid mistakes at all costs. This “fight-or-flight” mode drains us over time, leading to burnout.

? Anxiety keeps us working too much. To avoid criticism, we work longer hours, avoid delegating, and pile on projects. This creates a vicious cycle that pushes us faster toward burnout.

? Anxiety and burnout create exhaustion. Anxiety drains us through constant worry, while burnout saps us through prolonged overwork. Together, they leave us mentally and emotionally exhausted.

? Anxiety makes recovery harder. Even when we see burnout coming, anxiety stops us from taking a break. We worry about letting people down or missing out on opportunities, which keeps us in the burnout loop.

? Anxiety drains creativity. It feeds self-doubt and perfectionism, while burnout saps our motivation. Together, they make it hard to create, innovate, or even feel inspired.

Understanding the link between anxiety and burnout reveals how they perpetuate a cycle that’s hard to break in creative industries. Recognizing this, we can understand why some see design as becoming a commodity, or why Gen-Z, often labeled “lazy,” might actually be on to something. Stephanie Harrison’s New Happy may indeed be what we need right now.

So, what can you do? This might sound tough, but here it is: take control of your creative health. The industry doesn’t define your well-being—you do. No deadline or project is worth your mental health. If a role or environment feels off, it probably is. You have a responsibility to protect your creativity and well-being, even when it means pushing back against what’s “normal.”

You deserve a career that respects your mind and nurtures your creativity. Start demanding that respect now—from professors, bosses, and clients. If you don’t, anxiety will take the wheel, and burnout will be right around the corner. But if you take steps to protect your mental health, set boundaries, and work with people who value you, you’ll build a career that’s sustainable, fulfilling, and creatively rich.

Your creativity is one of a kind. Only you can bring it to life. Protect it, nourish it, and don’t let this industry’s culture of anxiety erode what makes you, you. The cycle can end with us. Let’s make sure this industry empowers creativity instead of burning it to ashes.

If you are an advocate for creative health, we want to work with you. Let’s talk.

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