The Dopamine Trap
Why your ADHD, anxiety, and acne are symptoms of modern life. (and how I escaped)
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My eyelids are heavy. Heavy house music blasts through my headphones. Blue light shines through my retinas—helping me forget that it’s already 9pm and this assignment is due tomorrow. I had weeks to do it. However today was the only day I had the motivation. One night before it was due.
It didn’t matter. I was caffeinated, nicotined, and sympathetically stressed to the max. The combination for productivity. Tomorrow I’ll pay the consequences, but I won’t have to think about it until then.
I’ve lived the last ten years of my life in a constant loop: Boredom → stimulation → procrastination → focus → burnout → repeat.
I’ve also been diagnosed with ADHD and have struggled with acne to this day. It is only after dropping out of school, limiting processed foods, and training consistently that I noticed something: these aren’t disorders—they’re symptoms of an artificial lifestyle.
The Matrix Has Us Trapped
The matrix is a funny term. Used by the enlightened elite (TikTok scrollers, dropouts, wantrepreneurs, and teens) to classify daily living in our modern world. Like most ideas, they’re only funny because they resemble some truth.
We wake up exhausted. Caffeinate. Commute angry. Stare at rectangles. Fast food. More rectangles. Sleep. Repeat.
You don’t have to be a naturopath to understand that this isn’t what we are made for. As we move towards more digital innovation we are also watching birth rates decline, mental health illness increase, obesity rates increase, cardiovascular disease increase. There are trend lines we can no longer ignore.
When Convenience Becomes a Trap
As a human I’m a fairly lazy person. I want things to be as easy as possible. As quick as possible. As simple as possible. I’ll always look for the quickest way out.
As I’m writing this today—it’s pretty easy. Life is full of convenience. Food, entertainment, sex. These which used to bring us the ultimate joy are now available via our pocket rectangle.
But somewhere in all that convenience, it’s easy to stop searching for meaning and start searching for comfort. To not just lose ambition—but to lose the reason to have ambition.
This is where stories get dark.
The Six Months I Don’t Talk About
I want to tell you about a friend I know. Today let’s call him Josh.
Josh was a very ambitious kid. When we met he had all these dreams to build businesses, travel the world, and provide for his family. He wanted a 1% lifestyle and it was all he could ever think of. One day he decided to leave everything behind and pursue it fully. He quit his job, left school, and told me that he was going to make it work.
I didn’t see Josh for six months.
The next time I saw him he looked softer. His eyes didn’t shine as bright as they once did and his body lost the sharpness that it once had.
Here’s what he told me those six months looked like:
He’d wake up around 1pm. The room smelled like stale air and unwashed laundry. His phone was already in his hand before his eyes fully opened—12 notifications he didn’t care about. The blinds stayed closed because opening them meant acknowledging it was another day he’d wasted.
Breakfast was whatever required the least effort. Usually nothing. Sometimes a protein bar from the gas station run he’d made three days ago. His trash can overflowed with instant ramen cups, empty Bubly cans, chip bags. He told himself he’d take it out later. He never did.
The job he got to “make ends meet” was just enough to keep the lights on. He’d show up, do the bare minimum, come home. When he wasn’t working he was in that dark room staring at a screen. YouTube autoplay. Reddit rabbit holes. Twitter arguments with strangers. Anything to avoid the silence where he’d have to face what he’d become.
He told me about one specific night—maybe month four—when he looked down at his hands. He was holding his mouse, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually enjoyed consuming. He was just… existing. Going through motions. Filling time until he was tired enough to sleep.
The dreams he had of building businesses? Fantasies he’d scroll past on Instagram. Other people living the life he said he wanted.
Every day he’d tell himself: “Tomorrow I’ll start. Tomorrow I’ll go to the gym. Tomorrow I’ll work on the business. Tomorrow I’ll reach out to that friend.” Every day he fell into the same pattern. Wake up late. Consume. Numb. Sleep. The gap between who he thought he’d become and who he was sitting in that room grew wider every single day.
He cut contact with friends because he was ashamed. Lost faith in himself because he couldn’t keep a single promise he made. Hid from the world because facing it meant admitting he’d failed.
Six months of his life evaporated into a digital haze. And the worst part? He couldn’t even tell me what he did during most of it. It all blurred together into one long, forgettable nothing.
You see, Josh was me.
I had no plan, no work ethic, and my life fell victim to entropy. I thought convenience would give me freedom to chase my dreams. Instead, it gave me nothing to chase but the next hit of dopamine.
The moment I realized I’d become Josh hit me like a freight train. I was lying in that same dark room, staring at the ceiling at 3am, and the thought crashed in: I’ve become exactly what I was running from. Not just a failure—but someone who’d given up on even trying
.
The Turning Point
It’s dark but since then something clicked.
I got baptized and gave myself to something bigger than myself. Ever since then I have seen God work in ways that supersede chance.
I met my fiancée. Fell in love with training and discipline. Ate real whole food. Met guys who were even more ambitious than I was. One of which turned into my business partner for our dream business.
My days are now spent getting to know God, training clients, sharing meals with friends, spending time with my fiancée, reading new books, writing about life, training consistently, and building the vehicle I want to drive the rest of my life.
To be honest I still spend a lot of my days behind a screen writing and building. I love coffee and a freshly baked pastry. But every day I have to make a conscious choice to choose a natural lifestyle.
A life full of real people, real food, and real experiences.
Every day the anxious, ADHD, and stimulant-addicted Jordan wants to escape, binge, and fall into the artificial world. But I know that there is a bigger purpose for me than that.
Here’s what actually changed: I went from checking my phone 200+ times a day to maybe 30. From zero hours of deep work per week to 25-30. From consuming 300mg of caffeine daily just to function to one cup of coffee I actually enjoy. My acne—which I’d blamed on genetics for years—cleared up within three months of cutting processed foods.
These aren’t just nice changes. They’re proof that what I thought were permanent conditions were actually just symptoms of how I was living.
How to Break the Cycle
Part of maturing was realizing that life moves in seasons—each with its own purpose and rhythm: A time to build and a time to let go. A time to struggle and a time to reap. A time to mourn and a time to dance.
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
The period of struggle exists to teach us there is a version of life we don’t want.
After that it’s about taking a few steps a day.
Cut your nails. Do your hair. Dress nicely without plans. Clean your room. Smile at work. Compliment the grocery clerk. Invite a friend for a meal. Go for a walk. Pray.
Then go further.
Walk further. Smile more. Compliment genuinely.
The beauty of life is that we can constantly improve. Not because we have to but because we choose to. Life wants to pull us down but that voice in the back of our head is screaming to climb back up.
What You Should Do Next
I’m writing this because I know there are 10,000 guys in dark rooms right now who think they’re uniquely broken. You’re not broken. You’re just living artificially.
Here’s what I want you to do this week:
Pick one artificial habit. The one you know is quietly destroying you. Late-night scrolling. Daily fast food. Skipping real conversations for digital ones.
Replace it with one natural action. Cook one real meal. Call one friend. Walk one mile without your phone.
Don’t try to overhaul your entire life. That’s the trap that keeps you stuck. Just choose one thing. Do it for seven days.
The version of you that wants to climb back up is waiting. But he needs you to take the first step.
Good luck from the other side.
Welcome to Pursuit of Purpose. Insights on holistic training, ancestral nutrition, discipline, and living with purpose. Subscribe to join the journey