If you catch yourself picking up your phone to check it for “just a second” and resurface 40 minutes later feeling super drained, this one’s for you. Same goes for mindless snacking and binge-watching TV. It may not seem like a big deal because everyone around you is doing the same thing, but it’s affecting your brain (and not in a good way).
According to Dr. Anna Lembke, a Stanford University psychiatrist and MasterClass instructor, shares that the constant drip of stimulation slowly raises the brain’s reward threshold—meaning it takes more and more input just to achieve baseline.
When the brain never gets a break, everything starts to feel a little muted. Motivation dips. Focus feels harder. Joy feels…quieter.
If you don’t like the sound of this (we sure don’t), it’s time to take a step back and understand how the brain responds to too much of a good thing. Let’s get into this.
Firstly, this isn’t about “addiction”
A lot of people hear conversations about dopamine and immediately think, That doesn’t apply to me, I’m not addicted.
“Even if you don’t think you’re addicted,” she explains, “taking a break from highly stimulating sensory stimuli like digital media, or pleasure-inducing substances like sugar, alcohol, or cannabis for a period of four weeks can reset your reward threshold and allow your brain to rejuvenate.”
In her clinical work, Dr. Lembke has observed that when people abstain long enough, energy and motivation often return. But before that happens, there’s usually a phase most people aren’t prepared for.
It's gonna feel worse before it feels better
When you remove a steady source of stimulation, the brain doesn’t quietly adjust. “People usually feel worse before they feel better,” Dr. Lembke says. “The brain is in a state of withdrawal, screaming out for our drug of choice.”
Withdrawal can show up as irritability, restlessness, boredom, low mood, or a vague sense of emptiness that’s hard to name. This is when many people assume something’s wrong and return to the comfort of their distractions.
But discomfort isn’t a sign that the reset isn’t working. It’s a sign your brain’s recalibrating.
“If we can make it past the phase of acute withdrawal,” she explains, “most people report feeling better by weeks three and four. Some feel so much better that they lose their desire to use that ‘drug’ altogether.”
This isn’t a willpower issue
One of Dr. Lembke’s most grounding reframes is removing blame from this conversation entirely.
“We live in an addictogenic world,” she says. “Almost everything—from the food we eat to the entertainment we consume—has been druggified in some way.” Things are more accessible, potent, novel, and abundant than what the human brain has evolved to handle.
“To rely on willpower alone, without acknowledging how the ecosystem we live in conspires against us,” Dr. Lembke says, “is an exercise in futility.”
So, in place of pushing harder, she encourages changing environmental cues. Delete apps from your phone, create physical distance from certain habits, and add friction so desire has less immediate power. Leaving your phone in another room, especially in the evenings when winding down, is a good place to start.
“These self-binding strategies anticipate desire before it happens,” she explains, “and allow us to leverage willpower in a dopamine-overloaded world.”
Sometimes, a pause is all the nervous system needs to reset the pattern.
Dopamine isn’t the villain (it’s just misunderstood)
Thanks to social media, dopamine has become shorthand for “bad habits.” But that framing misses the point.
“Dopamine is not itself addictive,” Dr. Lembke says. “It’s a chemical that tells us to approach and explore because what’s happening may be important for our survival.”
It evolved to motivate us to seek out rewards essential to survival, such as food, shelter, and social connection. The challenge today is that modern stimuli, especially digital ones, can repeatedly activate these same reward pathways in ways our brains didn’t evolve to regulate on their own.
“Addictive digital media activate the same brain reward pathways as drugs and alcohol,” she explains, “with one crucial difference: digital drugs can change over time to suit the preference of each individual person.”
Her analogy says it all: “Imagine eating a cookie that could sense each individual’s taste preference, such that with each successive cookie, it got more and more delicious. That makes for a very addictive drug.”
What a dopamine fast actually is
Despite how it sounds, a dopamine fast isn’t about deprivation.
“It’s important to reframe the dopamine fast as something healthy and positive that we’re doing for our brains,” Dr. Lembke says, “as opposed to something hurtful.”
By abstaining long enough to decrease tolerance, she explains, “we recapture our ability to take joy in other, more modest rewards and get out of the toxic and exhausting loop of craving.”
Yes, it can be uncomfortable. But that discomfort has an endpoint.
“In the long run,” she says, “most people feel better for it. People report having more time. Feeling more present. Less anxious. Less depressed. More connected to themselves and other people.”
Pleasure has fewer highs and lows and becomes steadier. Motivation feels calmer and less urgent. Your nervous system stops constantly bracing for the next hit.
At the heart of Dr. Lembke’s work is one simple truth: our brains weren’t designed for constant ease.
“To recapture joy in our lives,” she says, “we need to eschew frictionless, easy pleasures and lean into adversity.”
Not extremes or punishment, but just enough effort to bring our nervous system back into balance.
Because when stimulation softens, clarity has room to surface. And sometimes, that’s all the reset we need.
The content provided in this article is for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice or consultation. Poosh, LLC is not engaged in the practice of medicine or the rendering of medical services.
