When Every Critique Feels Like a Knife: Using AI to Survive RSD as a Designer
I’ve spent 25 years in design leadership, and I still feel my chest tighten when someone says “Can we talk about your work?”
My brain immediately goes to: They hate it. I’m getting fired. I should quit before they fire me. Maybe I was never good at this. Maybe I’ve been fooling everyone for two decades.
All in the 3 seconds it takes them to open their laptop.
This is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria.
And if you have ADHD, you probably know exactly what I’m talking about.
RSD is the reason I’ve rewritten this paragraph four times already. It’s why I’ve killed good ideas before anyone else even saw them. It’s why I’ve defended mediocre work way too hard, and abandoned great work way too quickly.
And here’s the fucked up part: I chose a career where feedback is literally the job.
The Traditional Advice Doesn’t Work
“Develop thick skin.”
“Don’t take it personally.”
“Separate yourself from your work.”
Cool. Super helpful. Let me just... turn off the part of my brain that’s been wired this way since childhood. Why didn’t I think of that?
Here’s what no one tells you: RSD isn’t about being sensitive.
It’s neurological. It’s your brain misinterpreting neutral feedback as existential threat. Your amygdala is screaming DANGER while your stakeholder is literally just asking if the button could be blue.
And the traditional designer coping mechanisms? They make it worse.
Spending 40 hours on a design doesn’t build investment, it builds attachment. The more time you sink in, the more your ego fuses with the pixels.
By the time you present, you’re not showing work. You’re showing a piece of yourself. And when they critique it, your RSD hears: You’re not good enough.
I’ve sat in enough reviews to know: the designers who spiral hardest are often the ones who care most.
The ones who put their soul into every detail.
The ones who should be succeeding, but instead are drowning in the gap between their standards and their emotional regulation.
How AI Changes the Equation
Here’s what changed for me: AI gave me a buffer.
Not between me and the work… between me and the attachment.
When I use Claude or ChatGPT or Gemini as part of my process, something shifts psychologically.
I’m no longer defending my design. I’m curating options. I’m a design director evaluating solutions, not a designer protecting their ego.
That distance? That’s oxygen.
It starts before the work even begins.
RSD makes you afraid to start. What if it’s not good enough? What if they hate it? What if this proves you’re a fraud?
So I start with AI instead. I dump my messy thoughts into Claude: “Here’s the brief, here’s what I’m thinking, here’s what scares me about this project.”
And Claude gives me back something structured. Not perfect. Not final. But something.
Suddenly I’m not staring at a blank Figma file with my RSD screaming that I have no ideas. I’m iterating on a starting point. I’m a curator, not a creator starting from zero.
The paralysis breaks.
Then comes the “pre-feedback” layer
Before I show anyone my work, I show it to AI.
“What’s working here? What’s weak? What questions will stakeholders ask?”
This is the part that saves me from spiraling later. Because AI gives me objective critique without the emotional charge. It’s not disappointed in me. It’s not questioning my competence. It’s just pointing out that the hierarchy is unclear or the use case isn’t solved.
I can hear that feedback. I can metabolize it. I can fix the issues before human eyes see the work.
By the time I present to actual stakeholders, I’ve already processed the criticism my RSD was afraid of. Their feedback doesn’t ambush me. I’m prepared.
The rapid iteration thing is real
RSD makes you precious about your work. You spend days on something, so it has to be good, right? You’ve invested too much for it to be wrong.
But when I’m using AI to generate variations, I haven’t invested days. I’ve invested minutes. And that changes everything.
“Try 5 different approaches to this navigation” doesn’t cost me my soul. It costs me a prompt.
When stakeholders say “what if we tried X instead?”, I’m not defending 40 hours of attachment. I’m saying “let me spin that up real quick.”
My ego isn’t in the equation. And my RSD doesn’t have ammunition.
The spiral catcher
Here’s the thing about RSD: it doesn’t just happen in meetings. It happens at 11pm when you’re lying in bed replaying a critique from three days ago.
They said the layout was “interesting.” What does that mean? Did they hate it? Do they think I’m incompetent? Should I redo the whole thing?
This is where AI becomes a thought partner for reality-checking.
I’ll literally open Claude after dinner and ask:
I got this feedback today: [exact words]. My RSD is telling me this means I’m bad at my job. Can you help me interpret this objectively?And Claude will break it down. “They’re likely pointing to X specific issue, not questioning your overall competence. Here are 3 ways to address it.”
It’s like having a therapist who specializes in design feedback. Someone who can interrupt the catastrophizing and bring me back to: this is just a design problem, not an indictment of my worth as a human.
The Deeper Shift
What I didn’t expect: using AI this way actually started changing how I see myself.
I’m not “a designer who needs AI to function.”
I’m a design leader who’s figured out how to manage my neurodivergence with the best tools available.
Just like I use Figma instead of Photoshop. Just like I use Slack instead of email. Just like I use every other tool that makes me better at my job.
AI isn’t compensation for weakness. It’s accommodation for difference.
The designers I know who are using AI most effectively aren’t the ones trying to replace their skills. They’re the ones who’ve figured out how to route around their neurological pain points.
RSD is still here. I still feel that chest tightness when someone wants to “talk about the work.”
But now I have a way through it that doesn’t involve white-knuckling my way through feedback sessions or killing good ideas before they see daylight.
If you’re a designer with RSD, you don’t need thicker skin.
You need better tools.
P.S. If staring at blank files while your RSD screams is your personal hell, my Designer's AI Toolkit might help.
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