So we all get caught chasing micro hits of dopamine while doomscrolling our way through another social media hellscape of the day…
Similar to how a rat would inside of a Skinner box except the box is your phone, and the cheese is that glorious, glowing red notification.
And so this whole “you gotta do a dopamine detox” thing pops up every now and then.
No, not the kind where you go live in a cave and eat moss until you hallucinate a spirit animal.
I mean the kind where you pry your eyeballs off whatever internet hamster wheel we’ve created since the 90s and try to…
Wait for it… (In my best Barney Stinson impression)
…be a person again.
The internet is broken. No, not like “404 error” broken.
Like “Twitter is now X, Elon is cosplaying as Emperor Palpatine, and everyone is arguing about whether pineapple belongs on pizza while Rome burns” broken.
Also just a sidenote: Pineapple belongs wherever the hell you want it. Also, stop fighting about it, you beautiful weirdos.
But why you might ask?
Well sometimes your brain resembles a microwave burrito left on high for too long.
Every dumb argument you avoid = one more neuron that survives the gladiator pit of internet discourse.
You might just maybe remember what it’s like to enjoy things without needing 12 strangers to validate you with heart emojis or that obnoxious little fucker cry face emoji.
You get to watch your sanity crawl back from the abyss, middle finger raised at all of those politically bent algorithms trying to mainline outrage straight into your cortex.
Generally speaking. Social media is a dumpster fire, and you’re the raccoon poking around for scraps of validation and memes. (No shame. We all love a good meme. But raccoons get rabies)
You don’t want rabies, right?
You don’t have to quit everything. (cue dramatic Hans Zimmer score)
Because the only thing you’re not allowed by law, by blood oath, by whatever eldritch contract you signed when you landed here…
Is to quit is these emails. My emails. The ones you’re reading right now.
Because unlike the endless scroll of “who wore it better” and “your uncle Gary’s political meltdown,” this is the good stuff. The dopamine you want. Not the kind that makes you want to bleach your brain with off brand tequila.
Stay subscribed, and I’ll keep showing up in your inbox like a friendly poltergeist with stories, rants, the occasional existential crisis, and zero pineapple on pizza debates. (Unless I’m feeling spicy. Then all bets are off)
Unsubscribe? That’s banishment, friend.
Exile. You’ll be cast into the outer darkness, where there is only weeping, gnashing of teeth, and endless TikToks about air fryers.
So again your prescription for today:
Detox from the social media platforms you dont need to be on.
Take a walk. Eat some real pizza. Hug a tree. Scream into the void or whatever.
But keep these emails. This is your lifeline. Your golden ticket. Your permission slip to sanity.
Stephen Walker
Thibaut Meurisse has a slew of productivity books and his dopamine detox book is spot on.