In the past few years, I’ve seen too many young people collapse under the weight of their own minds — from mild anxiety to full-blown crisis. Some bounce back. Some don’t. It’s become impossible to ignore.

Gen Z, especially the younger half, seems adrift in a way that’s different from anything I remember. They aren’t just stressed — they seem hollowed out, like the world has been drained of purpose before they even had a chance to find it.

Everything Taken Apart

They’ve inherited a culture that deconstructed everything. Institutions, faith, politics, tradition — all dismantled, analyzed, and memed into oblivion. What used to be serious is now suspicious. What used to be sacred is now cringe.

And what’s left after you tear down all the meaning? Snark. Ironic detachment. Self-awareness as armor. But you can’t build a life out of irony.

A Sense of Powerlessness

They’ve grown up in an age where the big things — climate, politics, the economy — all feel out of control. They’re told they can “change the world,” but every time they look around, the world looks worse. It’s like being handed a bucket and told to bail out the ocean.

Many of them also haven’t had the chance to practice independence. Their lives have been micromanaged from childhood — always supervised, always scheduled, always monitored. So when real problems hit, they don’t have the muscle memory for struggle.

Connection Without Anchor

They’re always connected, yet lonely. The phone is a lifeline and a noose. Every moment is lived under comparison — who’s happier, hotter, more successful, more “authentic.” The pressure isn’t just to keep up, it’s to be seen — constantly performing an identity that changes by the week.

No wonder they’re exhausted. It’s like living in an infinite mirror maze.

We Were Cynical Too

Gen X wasn’t exactly brimming with optimism. We came of age in the shadow of the Cold War, sky-high mortgage rates, and the collapse of job security. We perfected the art of the eye-roll. “Whatever” was our national anthem.

But here’s the difference: our cynicism didn’t metastasize into self-loathing. We didn’t think the whole world was broken — just that the people running it were idiots. Ours was a “fuck it” attitude, not a “fuck me” one.

We were alienated, sure, but we still believed there was something out there worth doing — even if it was just music, art, friends, or getting out of town.

The Hollow Freedom

Today’s kids have more options and less direction. They can be anything, which somehow translates into being nothing in particular. The boundaries that once gave shape to identity — religion, nation, even gender — have all been sanded down. Freedom has turned into fog.

Purpose doesn’t come from infinite choice; it comes from commitment. You find yourself by attaching to something that matters, not by endlessly reinventing yourself.

Rebuilding Meaning

I don’t think this generation is doomed. But they can’t keep living in a world made entirely of fragments. They need adults who model conviction, who show that it’s okay to care about something, to believe in something, to build rather than dismantle.

Because without purpose, connection becomes noise, freedom becomes emptiness, and irony becomes despair.

We can’t just deconstruct forever. At some point, someone has to start building again.  One of my children mentioned that Gen Z is turning towards religion.  I’m not sure if that’s true, but at least it would be a start towards finding a higher purpose.