As demonstrations erupt worldwide, clinicians say protest is as much a psychological process as a political one; from the adrenaline of outrage to the emotional crash that follows.

From the U.S. to Madagascar to Nepal, streets are swelling with chants for change. In the past year alone, more than 140 mass demonstrations have erupted across the world, and at least 30 are happening right now, according to the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

Many of these movements are being led by Gen Z: a generation that has grown up online, deeply connected yet deeply frustrated by inequality, climate crisis, and political inertia. Their protests are louder, more creative, and more sustained. But behind the banners and megaphones lies a quieter story: the emotional toll of protest, and the psychology that drives it.

“Taking a stand like this likely follows a culmination of intense emotional response to perceived unfairness,” says Dr Hannah Nearney, clinical psychiatrist and UK Medical Director at Flow Neuroscience, a company developing brain stimulation–based treatments for depression.

“It starts when our brain detects injustice. Emotional areas like the amygdala activate, adrenaline hits the blood, and dopamine rewards the thought of doing something about it,” she explains. “One person’s outrage becomes another’s courage, creating a sense of unity in a crowd until frustration becomes collective action.”

That rush, the blend of purpose, adrenaline, and belonging, can be intoxicating. But what happens when the chants fade, and people return home?

The Crash After the Cause

When protests end, many activists describe feeling deflated, restless, or even sad. Dr Kultar Singh Garcha, NHS GP and Global Medical Director at Flow Neuroscience describes it as a kind of “post-protest depression,” after the initial high of activism fades.

“After days of adrenaline and purpose, the body and mind can slip into stress and exhaustion,” says Dr Garcha. “Adrenaline falls, dopamine levels drop, and people can feel flat or even purposeless. It’s the brain’s way of recalibrating after high alert.”

Research backs this up. A study published in BMC Psychology found that up to 80% of activists experience moderate to severe anxiety or depression during periods of political upheaval. Other studies show that rates of depression rise by around 7% among both protesters and observers after large-scale demonstrations. Intuitively, the effect is particularly pronounced when visible change doesn’t follow.

“It’s the emotional rollercoaster of activism,” says Dr Nearney. “First comes outrage, then the rush of taking action, and finally the euphoria of being part of something bigger. But without rest or results, that same cycle can wear people down — mentally and physically.”

Finding Balance in the Fight

After the intensity of protest, psychologists stress that recovery is essential.

“Think of it like cooling down after a sprint,” says Dr Nearney. “You’ve used up enormous emotional energy. Now your nervous system needs predictability: a regular bedtime, nourishing food, and quiet moments that tell the body it’s safe again.”

Connection is just as vital. “While it might sound simple, leaning into your relationships is one of the most protective things you can do,” she adds. “Have a friend or small group who check in before and after demonstrations. It helps the brain process what’s happened and turns isolation into shared understanding.”

Meanwhile, Dr Garcha notes that emotional recovery should not be viewed as a weakness; instead, he pushes it as a vital building block of endurance. 

“Protests reach their goals when people pace themselves,” he says. “Even when change takes time, activism gives people a sense of meaning and belonging. Looking after your mental health is about resilience and the ability to keep standing when the world feels uncertain.”

The Quiet Work of Recovery

For many activists, the come-down of the march is an unexpected, but very real, phenomenon. The noise, the adrenaline, the shared sense of purpose of these emotional "crucibles" can make ordinary life feel muted. But as clinicians remind us, even the most righteous energy needs rest: recovery must be intentional, with gentle structure, routine, and community sitting at the crux.

It’s a message especially resonant for Gen Z, a generation defined by both urgency and empathy. Their activism often extends beyond the streets (through art, online organizing, and mutual aid) and their mental health strategies may shape how future movements endure.