Navigating Climate Anxiety

Photo by: Mika Baumeister

For many of us, when we think about the future of our environment, the picture isn’t as bright as it used to be. Instead of envisioning beach vacations, new life milestones, or family gatherings, there’s a shadow looming that the physical world as we know is changing—and not for the better. Fires ravage entire countries, floods sweep away cities, our food sources are depleting, deforestation happening, drilling/fracking and the air grows heavier with pollutants. The anxiety is real, and it’s something many of us feel deeply. This phenomenon, of "climate anxiety," is becoming more widespread, particularly among younger generations who feel the weight of an uncertain future on their shoulders.

Climate anxiety refers to the chronic fear of environmental doom. It’s not just concern over a single event, like a hurricane or a wildfire. It’s the persistent feeling of dread knowing that these events are becoming more frequent and more severe. For many, this anxiety manifests in feelings of helplessness, frustration, and sometimes even guilt. After all, we’re told that personal actions like recycling, conserving water, or driving less can make a difference—but when entire ecosystems are collapsing, these actions can feel like trying to put out a wildfire with a garden hose.

Photo by: Karsten Winegart

At LBT, we are hearing people express a sense of doom when they talk about their future—whether they’re planning their careers, thinking about having kids, or even just deciding what to study. There’s this underlying question: “What’s the point if the world is on fire?”

The emotional toll of climate change isn’t just about fear. It’s also about grief. We’re grieving for the planet we once knew and the future we hoped to have. This type of grief, sometimes called "eco-grief," can be as profound as any other form of loss. We’re mourning the animals that are going extinct, the landscapes that are disappearing, and our way of life that may soon be unrecognizable.

This grief turns into what therapists refer to as anticipatory anxiety—the fear of something bad happening in the future. It’s the constant “what if” scenarios playing out in our minds. What if there’s a drought and I lose my home? What if the food supply is disrupted? What if my children grow up in a world that’s inhospitable?

These kinds of thoughts can have a ripple effect on other areas of life, compounding pre-existing mental health issues like depression, PTSD, or generalized anxiety disorder. Those already coping with mental health challenges might feel even more overwhelmed, as climate change adds another layer to their burden. And for those with strong connections to nature—whether through their culture, heritage, or simply a love for the outdoors—this anxiety feels even more personal because the most paralyzing aspect of climate anxiety is feeling that there’s nothing we can do. The scale of the problem is so vast and when you turn on the news or scroll through social media, the sheer volume of information about natural disasters, species extinction, and governmental inaction can make it hard to breathe. It feels like there is nothing the individual can do. 

Photo by: Eyoel Kahssay

Yet, in the face of this anxiety, we must find ways to cope and resist feelings of helplessness. One main strategy is focusing on community action. While individual efforts like reducing plastic use or biking to work are important, they’re not the end-all-be-all. What truly creates change is collective action. Groups like the Sunrise Movement or Extinction Rebellion have built global networks of activists, and are on the front lines in various ways. In joining these movements, people find not only a sense of purpose but also solidarity—an understanding that they’re not alone in their fear or their fight. Combating the isolation of thoughts with community is an excellent strategy. 

For others, processing climate anxiety means reconnecting with the natural world, even as it changes. Spending time in nature—whether hiking, gardening, or just walking in a park—reminds us that there’s still beauty and resilience in the world. These moments of connection can serve as a counterbalance to the anxiety, grounding us in the present instead of spiraling into future catastrophes.

As therapists, we’re learning how to integrate climate anxiety into our practices. It’s not just a side note anymore; for many clients, it’s central to their well-being. It’s important to challenge catastrophic thinking patterns and reframe thoughts to focus on what we can control. Grounding techniques, such as mindfulness and breathwork, can help manage the physical symptoms of anxiety—like racing hearts or shortness of breath—that often accompany these intrusive thoughts.

Photo by: Markus Spiske

Even "ecotherapy"  emphasizes the healing power of nature and encourages clients to build a reciprocal relationship with the environment. This can be as simple as tending to a plant, but it can also involve larger actions like participating in conservation efforts or joining community clean-ups.

The antidote to climate anxiety isn’t necessarily optimism—it’s action. Taking steps, no matter how small, toward addressing the climate crisis can shift our mindset from one of helplessness to one of agency. We care deeply about the world and the future we share. And while the path ahead is uncertain, there’s power in knowing that we can walk it together.