In Her Campus’s series The College Try, our writers test out viral wellness, dating, fashion, productivity, and pop culture trends firsthand. This month, Hannah Klein gives a dopamine detox the ol’ college try.
This week, I moved into my college apartment for senior year. New place, new start, so I figured, why not try a dopamine detox? I’m basically a dopamine addict, so I wanted to see how my body would process without it. I knew this was going to be rough.
Turns out, I live off of dopamine like my life truly does depend on it. I deal with major anxiety and OCD, which means I’m a pro at overthinking and getting stuck in strange routines. My brain can get super loud at times, so usually, I grab my phone to scroll through social media or distract myself with TV.
For this detox, none of that is allowed, which kind of turned me away at first. A dopamine detox is basically fasting from very rewarding and overstimulating activities, like television, social media, shopping, gaming, and the like. I decided to try the detox to see if, in the near future, my life wouldn’t have to depend on dopamine as much as it does now: Dopamine is basically my brain’s hype man. It’s the chemical that gets you out of bed in the morning, makes you want to chase after your goals, and gives you that little rush when you finally finish something.
My daily dopamine comes from social media notifications, getting fast food, and binge-watching TV. It’s tied to motivation, mood, memory, movement, and attention—basically, all the stuff that keeps life interesting. The Cleveland Clinic calls it a neurotransmitter, but let’s be real: it’s the reason you keep going back for things that feel good. Checking something off my to-do list makes my life feel like sunshine and rainbows; that’s the dopamine that keeps my life going.
So, I tried out the viral dopamine detox for myself. And, honestly? It was not at all what I expected.
Day One
The first thing I typically do when I wake up is immediately check my notifications and social media. Messages, emails, TikTok, Instagram — I check them all before I even get out of bed. But today, I caught myself reaching for my phone and forced myself to stop. Instead, I threw on some sneakers and wandered over to Starbucks. Technically, this was probably cheating, but I needed tea. Normally I’d go for something with enough caffeine to wake up a small village, but since caffeine is a sneaky dopamine booster, I settled for a Passion Tango Tea with honey. Not exactly my usual order, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Day Two
This morning, instead of grabbing my phone, I reached for my journal. I spent about 20 minutes scribbling about the upcoming semester and everything I hoped would happen this school year. It was like giving my brain a little pep talk before the day started. Journaling turned out to be a pretty solid distraction from my usual phone habit. Sure, it wasn’t as instantly entertaining as scrolling through TikTok, but I actually felt like I accomplished something afterward.
I then grabbed the book that I’ve been meaning to read for the past 8 years but never got to: The Glass Castle. This helped distract my brain from the normal 10 hours of screen time it usually gets during the day.
Day Three
By the third day, I was starting to feel like I was going insane. Living with anxiety and trying to detox from the one thing that makes me less anxious, my phone (along with watching TV and the occasional online shopping spree), was extremely hard. I almost called it quits then and there, but I grabbed my shoes and went for a walk around my college campus. Instead of splurging on the nice food options they had, I went for a water and granola bar from the campus store.
Day Four
Guys, don’t hate me, but I caved… for a good reason though. Honestly, it was almost impressive how fast I managed to toss all my progress out the window. Dunkin’ dropped its new pumpkin drinks, and apparently, that was all it took to break me. The second I saw the ad, I wanted one. Before I could even debate if it was worth breaking my detox, I was already placing my order. So not only did I break the fast food rule, but I also got that little dopamine hit from trying something new and seasonal. I knew exactly what I was doing, and I did it anyway. The pumpkin drink was delicious, so I can’t even pretend to regret it.
My dopamine detox was terrible, TBH.
By the end of the four days, I realized a dopamine detox is way harder than it sounds. Especially for someone like me. Honestly? I didn’t love it.
My brain already runs on anxiety and OCD, so it’s basically a hamster wheel that never stops spinning. Usually, I grab my phone, binge a show, or snack on something just to give myself a break from the chaos. Take all that away and, surprise, my thoughts didn’t magically get quieter. If anything, they got even louder: I kept reaching for my phone, not just because I was bored, but because sometimes I actually needed a distraction from the noise in my head. Turns out, these so-called mindless habits aren’t always just habits for me. Sometimes, they’re the only way I know how to hit pause on a brain that refuses to chill.
But honestly, that was probably the biggest thing I took away from all this. I don’t have to cut out every single thing that makes me happy or helps me chill out. Let’s be real, I’m not skipping my pumpkin drink when Dunkin’ drops it. No chance. What I do want is to notice when I’m reaching for my phone or ordering takeout because I actually want to, and when I’m just trying to run away from my own thoughts.
The detox was not fun, and I definitely didn’t ace it, but it did make me think about my habits. Maybe the point isn’t to banish dopamine forever, but to figure out how to balance the distractions with actually learning to sit with my own brain for a minute.
If you or someone you know is seeking help for mental health concerns, visit the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) website, or call 1-800-950-NAMI(6264). For confidential treatment referrals, visit the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) website, or call the National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP(4357). In an emergency, contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK(8255) or call 911.