Twenty-one-year-old Vishesh Thakur (name changed) was a social media and gaming addict. A compulsive gamer and social media scroller, he was caught in a cycle of digital highs and crashing lows—moody, anxious, and mildly depressed. After months of erratic behaviour, Vishesh’s parents brought him to Dr Sandeep Vohra, psychiatrist and founder of the mental health platform nwnt.ai, who began a carefully structured intervention. “Dopamine enables nerve cells in the brain to communicate with the body and plays a key role in mood and attention regulation,” explains Vohra.
He began by decreasing Vishesh’s screen and gaming time and added psychotherapy, family counselling and appropriate medication. “Over the next few weeks, I added daily yoga and meditation to his routine. Gradually, Vishesh started spending more time with his family. He has stopped gaming, his moods are stable, and the time spent on social media has significantly reduced.”
Vishesh isn’t alone. In an age driven by digital gratification, dopamine—the brain’s “reward chemical”—has become a central player in the burnout conversation. Ask a Silicon Valley techie for their productivity hack, and it might surprise you: the answer isn’t AI, it’s abstinence—from dopamine. Scrolling endlessly, binge-eating, compulsive gaming, even high-octane adventure sports, all provide quick dopamine spikes that leave the brain craving more.
Enter dopamine fasting, a concept popularised by Dr Cameron Sepah, clinical professor of psychiatry at the University of California, San Francisco. The idea? Step away from habits that flood the brain with dopamine to give your neural circuits time to “recover and restore.” Dr Sepah outlines some behaviours most responsive to this reset: binge-eating, excessive gaming, compulsive internet use, gambling and shopping, frequent consumption of adult content, thrill-seeking activities, and recreational drug use.
“Dopamine is a critical neurotransmitter involved in regulating motivation and rewards,” says Dr Preeti Chauhan, senior homeopathic consultant and psychologist. Reducing exposure to dopamine triggers, she explains, allows the brain to “reset and recalibrate.”
Entrepreneur James Sinka swears by quarterly dopamine fasts. “I wake up, drink water, journal, meditate, and spend the day in nature,” he says. His version feels more like a mindful retreat than an ascetic cleanse, offering a gentler path to clarity.
But dopamine fasting, like any trend, has its critics and caveats. “Dopamine fasting could be good for you if done in a smart and moderate way,” says Dr Rahul Chandhok, senior consultant and head of psychiatry at Artemis Lite, Delhi. He recommends intentionally cutting back on instant-gratification activities, but warns against overdoing it. “Dopamine fasting doesn’t actually lower dopamine levels. Extreme versions—like isolating yourself or eliminating all sources of pleasure—can make you feel deprived, irritable, and frustrated. This often leads to bingeing afterward.”
That pendulum swing between deprivation and excess can be harmful, especially when the habits being eliminated were serving as emotional coping mechanisms. “The brain’s dopamine system is too complex to be ‘reset’ through behavioural changes alone,” says Dr Vohra. “Abruptly stopping activities that help manage stress, anxiety or depression can actually make things worse.”
Still, for many, the benefits are real. People report sharper focus, better productivity, and a new appreciation for everyday joys—like music or a sunset. As with most things, balance is key. Dopamine fasting won’t solve everything—but in a world addicted to the next hit, it may just offer a pause worth taking.
