When Your Layoff Anxiety Won't Go Away

Harvard Business Review

14-05-2025

It's not uncommon or unreasonable to worry about being laid off, particularly today. Layoffs in the U.S. recently hit their highest level since 2020, there's been a 41,311% increase in government job cuts compared to last year, and reductions are becoming more common in retail, tech, and nonprofit organizations.
But what happens when anxiety about job loss becomes all-consuming, even in light of evidence that your role is as safe as it could possibly be?
As a clinical psychologist at an anxiety specialty clinic, excessive worry about job security is one of the most common work-related anxieties I see. And it's no wonder; getting fired is a personal and professional upheaval. But for many of my clients, anxiety about getting laid off or fired isn't limited to situations where signs are clear, like industry-wide downsizing, impending funding cuts, poor performance reviews, or being on a PIP. Many also experience anxiety about job security in stable or growing industries, despite positive reviews and regular check-ins with their boss. Distressing and impairing anxiety is a common symptom that could indicate a condition such as Generalized Anxiety Disorder, or could spark worrying oneself into burnout, substance misuse, or depression.
Thankfully, you don't have to suffer. Here are five common scenarios I see that underlie disproportionate worry about job loss—and how to handle them.
1. Mistaking feelings as fact
'I feel insecure, so my job must be insecure.'
A client we'll call Allie came in for a gnarly case of impostor syndrome. Her evaluations were always good, she had a good relationship with her boss, and she had earned a promotion in the past year. But she often felt incapable, like she was faking everything. She would lose sleep before presentations, meetings where she had to participate, or any time she perceived she was being watched and evaluated.
Allie was engaging in a common bias called emotional reasoning: mistaking feelings as fact, or 'I feel it, so it must be true.' She felt insecure, took the feeling as proof she was incapable, and assumed others shared her belief. Other examples of emotional reasoning: I feel jealous so my partner must be cheating, or I feel guilty so I must have done something wrong.
To counter feeling incapable, Allie overcompensated. She overprepared, overworked, and over-practiced. But then her overcompensation not only stole the credit for keeping her safe and employed; it also masked the fact that she was capable and competent all along.
What to do:
Drop the overcompensation, little by little. This is not a 180; we're not flip-flopping from overpreparing to totally winging it. Rolling back overcompensation might include rolling back overworking to working, overpreparing to preparing. For Allie, this meant preparing thoroughly for a presentation but stopping short of pulling an all-nighter to rehearse. For you, this might mean resisting the urge to re-do the team's work because it's not quite how you envisioned it or being mindful of the point at which revisions cease to improve a slide deck and instead become fiddling-as-anxiety-management.
The actions we think will save us can often steal the credit for our success. Let go of the overcompensation, and you'll learn there was nothing in need of compensation in the first place. As you feel more secure in your job, you'll feel more secure in yourself.
2. Catastrophizing consequences
'This job is the only thing between me and total disaster.'
A client we'll call Gene worried that if he lost his job, his wife and kids would abandon him for failing to provide a steady income. Mika worried she would end up financially dependent on her chaotic, alcoholic family of origin. Bill pictured himself homeless, living on the streets. All three of them could picture their worst-case scenarios like a mini horror movie playing out in their minds.
In an uncertain economy, the stakes of job loss are certainly high for many people. But sometimes our fears of getting fired are really about something else: the deep-seated fear that our family only sticks around for our paycheck, the existential fear that we'll be pulled back into a bad situation from the past as if by a tractor beam. Indeed, anxiety is designed to protect us. It scans the horizon for worst-case scenarios and helps us prepare so we don't get blindsided. Evolutionarily, it's better to mistake a wolf for a sheep than the other way around. But like Gene, Mika, and Bill, it's easy to overestimate the danger and see wolves everywhere we turn.
What to do:
If you're worried about a catastrophe larger than having to find another job in a tough market, spell out every single step that would have to happen to make your worst-case scenario come true. A lot of factors usually have to line up for that catastrophe to materialize. Indeed, in Mika's case, she wouldn't jump from being gainfully employed one day to living in her childhood bedroom the next; she would have to miss the signs of impending termination, be unable to rectify the situation, not get severance or unemployment, run through her emergency fund, not be able to find a cheaper living situation, and on and on. Turn your fears into a math problem: Write out all the steps, put a percent chance next to each step, and multiply it out. The end result—the percent chance your worst-case scenario will come to pass—will be lower than you expect.
Is your worst-case scenario possible? Yes, anything is possible. But is it likely to happen? Don't confuse possibility with probability. Ask yourself: Is the amount of worry I'm putting into this scenario proportionate to the probability?
3. Craving certainty in an uncertain world
'I stay in regular contact with my boss, but I worry about whether I'm meeting expectations well enough to maintain my position.'
We've all heard stories of firings that come out of nowhere. We all have a friend who's been blindsided with a pink slip. It's true that it can happen to anyone. But every situation comes with some risk, whether we're crossing the street or using a credit card online. Our work life is no different.
Those of us who are detailed planners or hate surprises might have a low tolerance for risk or, conversely, a high need for certainty. We crave explicit, watertight assurance that both our position and the favor of our boss are safe and certain. Without that, we feel unsure and unsettled.
A high need for certainty often comes coupled with a tendency to view situations as all-or-nothing. Therefore, if we don't know with 100% certainty that we're safe, we automatically feel at risk.
It's true that many managers give chronically unhelpful feedback. But in all cases, working on your relationship with uncertainty can help you see more clearly where problems exist.
What to do:
We have two levers we can pull in this situation, and they aren't mutually exclusive: change and acceptance.
For change: Rather than asking your boss if you're doing okay, ask specific questions that pull for actionable insights:
'What do you see as the top priorities for my role next quarter?'
'Are there specific skills or areas you think I could focus on improving?'
'What do you see as the biggest challenges for our team right now, and how can I contribute to overcoming them?'
If you're stuck in a confusing dynamic with your manager, try an opposite tactic: Make room for a little bit of risk. When it comes to uncertainty, resistance prolongs persistence.
Decide how much uncertainty in job security you can tolerate right now. A little? Some? Two percent? Here, we're focused on tolerating the uncertainty itself, not the worst outcomes. How you phrase your response is less important than the fact that your answer is more than zero.
Next, decide to what extent you are willing to experience doubt, anxiety, confusion, or concern about your position. Now we're focused on your emotional response to uncertainty. Again, your specific answer is less important than the fact that your answer is more than zero.
This may sound woo-woo, but: Picture your uncertainty or emotional reaction to uncertainty as a physical object, like a paperweight or a plasma globe. Then, metaphorically, put it on your desk. Allow it to be there. You will not love the fact that it's sitting on your desk, but practice focusing your energy on your work rather than on getting uncertainty off your desk.
Surprise: This is acceptance. Rather than trying to minimize uncertainty by asking your boss or colleagues for reassurance, or working harder to create a perceived safety net, lean the other way and make room for some inevitable uncertainty.
4. Conflating performance and self-worth
'If I'm not hitting it out of the park, I feel like I'm striking out.'
A client we'll call Mark sets high, personally demanding standards and strives to meet them, often yielding excellent results; his work is high-quality, thorough, and detail-oriented. Most of the time, he hits it out of the park.
But sometimes, team members yawn during his presentations, his boss corrects an error he made, or his sales numbers are fine, but not spectacular. Then, he feels like he's failed—like he's struck out.
His boss and other team members have tried to help Mark be less hard on himself, advising him, 'Maybe your standards are too high,' and 'You need to stop when things are good enough.' Mark bristles at the advice, insisting his high standards have made him who he is today. Mark's sense of his goodness as a person—not to mention his sense of job security—rises and falls as he meets or misses the stringent expectations he holds for himself.
Mark is engaging in a phenomenon called overevaluation: the conflation of performance with self-worth. Along with self-criticism, overevaluation is one of the pillars of clinical perfectionism. When our evaluation of our work expands beyond the work itself and becomes a referendum on our character, we're overevaluating. Therefore, of course Mark is reluctant to 'stop when things are good enough,' because to the perfectionist mind, settling for subpar or mediocre outcomes renders us subpar or mediocre as a person.
If you're a member of an underrepresented group, there's an additional layer: It's common to feel like our work represents something larger than just the work—our good name, our entire group. Indeed, overevaluation doesn't just come from within—it can come from the environment all around us. Every human responds to the situations we're put in, so when we're put in a situation that conveys: 'You need to earn your place' or 'You don't belong here,' it's understandable to respond with a sense that we need to prove ourselves with our work.
What to do:
It's impossible to separate yourself entirely from your performance; of course you'll be proud when things turn out well and disappointed when they don't. But if your self-worth rises and falls with your successes and failures, or your work serves as a referendum on you as a person, try this: Focus on the work for the work's sake. Incorporate your achievements and struggles into a larger self-concept, but remember your worth is not contingent upon your performance. Take the stance of a sculptor eyeing a block of marble and ask yourself, 'What would make this thing better?' Bonus: Ironically, it's when we focus on the work for the work's sake that the work is more likely to be good.
In addition, resist reassuring yourself with 'Well, even if Task A didn't go well, I did awesome at Task B.' Instead, take a page from the research of Drs. Geoffrey Cohen and David Sherman and affirm what you know to be genuinely true about yourself, even if it has nothing to do with work. Some examples:
'I'm a consistent and compassionate friend.'
'I was put on earth to help the less fortunate.'
'I love my kids with all my heart.'
The goal is not to gloss over challenges to boost self-esteem, but rather to uphold a consistent narrative of your whole self's adequacy.
Finally, if you're in a situation where you feel the weight of representing more than your own work, leaning into community and connection inside (e.g., ERGs or mentorship) or outside of the workplace acts as a protective factor.
5. Mistaking people-pleasing for security
'If everyone's happy with my work, I'll be safe.'
Natalie solicits a lot of advice from colleagues about both the outcome and process of her work: 'Does this look okay to you?' 'Should I follow Martin's advice or Shazia's?' 'Would it look weird if I made this into a bar graph?' She tries to incorporate everyone's feedback. Work often feels like a people-pleasing grind, but staying in everyone's good graces is how she measures her job security.
What to do:
We can't control others' opinions, which is why outsourcing the quality of our work or the strength of our job security to the judgment of others is fraught.
If you relate to Natalie, try evaluating your work with a yardstick other than 'Did people like it?' Instead, try, 'Did I fulfill my intentions?' or 'Did I do what I set out to do?' This keeps the first opinion about our work—our own—firmly under our control.
. . .
No matter which of these five scenarios we identify with, our minds tend to sucker-punch us with the question: 'What if I get fired?' 'What if' questions are meant to be rhetorical, but to deal with them, try answering the question literally. What if you get fired? Well, what would you do?
This might mean coping in advance: What's your plan? Who would comfort you? Who would you network with? Where would you look for a new job? More importantly, it means reminding yourself that you're able to handle the unexpected, and that you'll cross that bridge if it ever comes.
Common anxieties such as these can turbocharge otherwise normal and understandable concerns about job security. It makes sense: Getting fired or laid off is a reasonable and identifiable, if sometimes inaccurate, place for our more existential anxieties to land. By recognizing and addressing our tendencies, we can build a more balanced relationship with work to keep our very human worries from dictating our sense of job security.