It was abundantly clear to everyone that Huda wasn’t doing well.
Huda Mustafa, the breakout villain on Love Island USA’s seventh season, spiraled after viewers voted to separate her from Jeremiah Brown, with whom she’d developed an intense connection early in the current season. Over several episodes, she eavesdropped on Jeremiah’s conversations, interrogated the woman he was re-coupled with, and broke down repeatedly. Her despondent face became a viral meme.
Viewers, and later Huda herself, had a simple and notably Gen Z explanation for what she was experiencing: The lovelorn reality star had officially “crashed out.”
Justin Bieber received the same label recently, for his strange behavior on social media and a viral standoff with paparazzi. While some of his fanbase voiced more serious concerns over the state of his mental health, many tagged the singer’s antics as telltale signs of a typical “crashout.”
It’s not just celebrities. Go on TikTok, and users are posting videos of themselves venting, sobbing, or throwing physical tantrums with some sort of caption claiming that they’ve “crashed out.” In other cases, they’re describing “crashing out” in response to other people.
The catchall phrase is shorthand for the unfiltered actions of a person who is angry, anxious, confused, stressed out, or experiencing mental health issues. It can describe a range of behavior, from emotional outbursts to altercations to withdrawals. There are a lot of ways that “crashing out” can look, but like obscenity, you know it when you see it.
The term has floated around on the internet for a while now; Know Your Meme credits its popularity to rapper NBA YoungBoy, who used the term in his 2017 song, “Stepped On.” Since the 2020s, the concept has been used both humorously and in earnest to discuss the fallout from issues as global as the state of the world, as personal as relationship or work stress, or as low stakes as struggling with a hairstyle. Practically any problem, big or small, can warrant a “crashout.”
One of the most striking things about the phrase is how general it is. Why is a generation raised on pop-psychology jargon, with more access to mental health resources and experience talking about their own needs, painting these episodes with such a broad brush? Is Gen Z abandoning traditional routes of managing their mental health, or has a burnout generation found a more radical way to cope?
It’s no secret that Gen Z is particularly stressed out. According to a 2024 Harmony Healthcare IT study, nearly half of Gen Zers struggle with mental health issues, with 1 in 3 taking prescription medication for mental health. Anxiety and depression are the most common conditions. The Covid-19 pandemic has been seen as a cause for the Gen Z mental health crisis, while other studies point to social media as a huge factor.
Meanwhile, research suggests that Gen Z might be growing more resistant to traditional therapy. A study in the American Journal of Psychology this year found that 37 percent of participants born between 1997 and 2012 said that seeking counseling was “mentally weak.” This was a higher percentage than the 27 percent of millennials, Gen Xers, and baby boomers that were surveyed combined.
If therapy’s relatively unpopular, social media is booming, and it seems like many teenagers and young adults have turned to their favorite influencers and online advice to get through tough times. On TikTok, for example, “crashouts” are often encouraged as a necessary form of catharsis. Even if you aren’t naturally experiencing these outbursts, users posit them as a quick and easy fix for stress and anger.
One user, @masonblakee, posted a video of himself looking relaxed in a car with the caption, “How it feels when you finally crash out on someone after keeping your mouth shut for a while.”
Another, @gazellechavez, made a video sharing the supposed benefits of occasionally “crashing out.”
“Once you hit rock bottom, there’s only one way you can go — up,” she says.
Still, professionals are more skeptical of these viral directives, as they’re being confronted with them at work. Rebecca Hug, a clinical counselor and core faculty in clinical mental health counseling at University of Phoenix, says she regularly encounters clients who’ve “absorbed the idea that emotional ‘crashing’ is a valid coping strategy.”
“This mindset discourages the development of essential skills like self-regulation, resilience, and perspective-taking,” Hug says. While she says these sorts of reactions are “developmentally appropriate for teenagers,” it’s a more crucial problem for people in early adulthood.
New York-based psychologist Sabrina Romanoff shares similar concerns about these viral “crashing outs,” saying that TikTok has become “a double-edged sword for mental health.”
“On one hand, it’s a space where young people can find validation and connect with people who share similar experiences,” she says. “On the other hand, it’s a platform with a high circulation of unqualified advice, often oversimplifying and promoting unhealthy ideas.”
For instance, several videos frame the act of “crashing out” on other people as a joyful and even empowering experience. But at what point do these emotional eruptions become abusive or signal one’s failure in communicating with others?
Romanoff adds that there’s a danger to the internet automatically labeling these sorts of behaviors as “crashouts” without acknowledging possible underlying causes.
“When we see repeated posts about these breakdowns, it can inadvertently create a culture where these moments are expected or even glorified rather than seen as a signal that something deeper needs attention,” she says.
Prior to the “crashout” trend, Gen Z had already built a reputation for publicizing their emotional meltdowns online. TikTok and Instagram Stories have become increasingly popular sites for influencers and average users to cry and vent. Hug says viral “crashouts” reflect how “emotional dysregulation is increasingly externalized and even socially validated.” Rather than having these intimate moments in private with friends or family members, users can receive immediate support from strangers that they may not receive in real life. This public sharing seems, in part, symptomatic of a loneliness epidemic affecting Gen Z. According to a Pew Research Center study this year, the cohort experiences higher rates of loneliness than previous generations.
However, vulnerability has also proven to be a recipe for virality and a strategy to build loyal audiences. Hug says the visibility of emotional struggles can “blur the line between authentic expression and performative vulnerability.”
Hence, there’s an obvious incentive for certain people to discuss and post their crashouts. Not everyone may come from a particularly dire or desperate place. After all, Hug says that many of these posters’ concerns seem to reflect “normal developmental stress rather than clinical pathology.”
Still, she says that it’s important for young people to develop self-regulation skills and utilize mental health resources rather than normalizing these reactions under the guise of “crashing out.” Unfortunately, emotional maturity doesn’t get as many likes.
