As creative director of Republic of Everyone, Ben Akers was the adman “doing good work for good”. That urge is inherent in him. He has taken the veil off his own struggles so that you might too.  The purpose of his story is to help a fellow creative, Matt Follows, do the research he needs to create a training program for stress and anxiety. His story is here: Matt Follows – Talk about things unspoken. His email is here. Please, talk to him for 20 minutes.

Ben’s story starts below:

Stress is a funny thing. It’s not black and white. It’s degrees of grey.

Some days darker than others. Some days so close to white, it’s adrenalin flowing through your system.

It’s a rollercoaster you’re scared to get off, because the creative highs make you feel invincible, while the lows are a by-product of  “the job” and “if you want to be in this industry, you better learn how to handle stress,” I was once told.

But no one sat me down and told me. Did anyone tell you?

In a business where everyone knows it happens, where depression rips though creative departments like a tsunami, no one admits they can see the weather warning.

It’s still seen as weakness. And you can’t be seen to crack.

Those who don’t crack – or hide their cracks well – rise to the top. The last thing you can do is admit it.

We’re fragile things – we all crack to some extent.  So, we go to the pub instead  to ‘let off steam’. Ah, the pub, that place where many of our predecessors ruined their lives and became alcoholics.

So what’s wrong with our industry that it piles pressure on us to be more creative, more innovative, work longer hours and push ourselves harder? Be more social – and tweet about what we’re doing when we do it.

I’ve worked some long hours in my time. I’ve worked in places where the “sweat shop model” is the way the creative department is run. And I’ve survived. Just.

I’ve also worked for some fantastic companies, but I still wouldn’t admit to them I couldn’t “handle it”. I’ve come close to cracking, doubted myself and come home to my wife’s arms for a little cuddle and to shed a tear. But that just seems to be the way it is. We don’t talk. We don’t get support. We just wait for the cracks to happen.

I’ve just returned home to the UK after nearly six years in Sydney. I wanted to be near my family. I wanted my daughter to know her grandparents. I wanted time to put some other people first. The move was stressful. Getting a new job was stressful.

Am I good enough in a new role is stressful. But I can handle it. That’s what we all say.

Ben Akers (left) and Steve at 17 yrs of age

But only two weeks after landing, ready for the next chapter of my life, I received a call that my childhood best friend, my brother from a different mother, had hung himself due to depression. He had been living away too – in Canada – and had returned home for his family like me (he leaves behind three children).

Steve was a top bloke. Well loved. A father and husband.  Everything to live for. So how did he get to the place where he convinced himself that suicide was the only option?

Since Steve’s death, Robin Williams has also committed suicide due to depression. And I’ve read about how Winston Churchill suffered from it for many years. He called it the “black dog” – telling people he loved “that the black dog was with him today”.

Steve’s suicide has hit me pretty hard. I still haven’t processed it. And I’ll be honest – writing this is a bit of self therapy. Because as creatives, we want to solve problems. Even in our own lives. Our fragile egos need to feel as though we’re doing something. And this probably adds to the stress.

I think back to the people I love in the industry. I’ve seen many of them break – or come very close to it. So what is being done? From people inside the industry.

I’ve been told by Matt Follows that sports people or top brokers are given “head” coaches. To help them handle the stress and pressure. It’s like a badge of honour. I’m now important enough to have a brain coach to look after my squash so that when I think, it’s quality thinking.

Why isn’t a “head” coach standard in advertising? We have IT. Why don’t we have IQ?

After all, as a creative you’re judged on what your imagination comes up with.

You go in naked saying, “this is the most imaginative, entertaining, persuasive thing in my brain,” and everyone is then entitled to question it, criticise it, shoot it down, say it’s not good enough.

How many times have you wanted to reply, “Go on then, you do better,” but never had? You can’t, right? It’s your profession, your obsession, your choice. You are paid to be creative, so be creative. But what about your stress levels? The expectation? The rejection? You don’t switch off at 5.30.

And it doesn’t end there. As you start to get more success – you get given more and more “management” opportunities. Become CDs and ECDs. Suddenly you are being removed from what you are good at, to doing something completely different. Exposed to more business conversations. Learn about budgets, how to present and how to talk to a camera. But that again is a stress to many (including me). And you just have to “suck it up” and try your best, rather than admit you need a bit of help.

I’ve been lucky enough to work with, and learn from, some amazingly talented people. And hopefully nurture the next generation of leaders as well. Never – from any of them or me – was stress mentioned. It’s the elephant in the room. Or the black dog in the room – if we’re to follow Churchill.

We are just expected to handle it.  But can we? Let’s remove the grey. Take on the black dog and talk about stress in the creative Industry.  Let’s admit it’s there and work out how we can support and train ourselves to be prepared for the pressure of being creative.