Covid-19 has disrupted professional trajectories, forcing people to focus on other areas of life — perhaps for the first time in years, said David H. Rosmarin, PhD, an assistant professor at Harvard Medical School and founder of the Center for Anxiety, in Manhattan.

“Having more time for sleep, friends, family and just thinking can be wonderful if one has an identity outside of their career,” he said. “But it can be hell on earth if they don’t.”

The conditions created by the pandemic are putting people to the test.

The U.S. unemployment rate spiked to 14.7% in April, but fell to 6.7% by November, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics. The number hides that more than a third of those without jobs — 3.9 million people — have been looking unsuccessfully for work since the pandemic hit the country with full force. And the number of people who have given up — 657,000 who say there aren’t any jobs for them — is more than double where it was at the end of last year.

This has come along with intense despair. Americans’ view of their mental health declined significantly in 2020, with 23% describing themselves as having fair or poor mental health, up from 17% last year, according to a Gallup poll released this week. And about 30% of American adults now have symptoms meeting criteria for an anxiety disorder, compared to 19.1% pre-pandemic, the Centers for Disease Control says.

It’s hard to stay positive when your life’s work is upended.

Aron “Teo” Lee, 53, a serial entrepreneur in Rockville, Maryland, is trying to stay on track with his dream career, running an education startup, DEILAB, which teaches engineering, design and critical thinking to children through Lego-based challenges and other projects.

In a normal summer, he would spend June through August traveling to various communities around the country. Not this year. Instead, he spent the summer home with his wife and two teenage children, teaching robotics online, watching his debt mount and his bank account dwindle, as his 30 clients fell to single digits.

“Emotionally it’s very tough, because I feel like I failed the people who believed in the company and believed in me,” he said. “I have a son in college and a daughter in high school, and to be 53 years old and wondering how the lights are going to stay on month to month is really a heavy burden.”

Lee has relied on freelance music-production work, his wife’s salary and financial assistance from his extended family.