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I turned 30, and something was off.

My energy was gone. I could feel it before the day even began.

If you've ever woken up tired before the day really starts, you know the feeling.

I used to wake up ready.

Now I woke up like an accident.

By afternoon my head felt heavy. By night my body was exhausted, but my mind wouldn't shut up, replaying old conversations, rehearsing future ones, arguing with people who weren't even there.

You're not broken.

You're just stuck in a loop that a lot of people never talk about.

I told myself it was stress, mindset, discipline, or just getting older. So I did what everyone does when they think the problem is internal: meditation, supplements, better routines, more willpower, more effort aimed inward.

It only became worse.

And if you've tried all the "right" things and still felt wrong—trying harder at the wrong problem doesn't bring relief. It just adds guilt.

Nothing stuck.

Then one night, half asleep, I watched a random video about diet. Not weight loss. Not aesthetics.

Mental health.

And one sentence made me pause the screen:

For the first time in years, a different thought landed—not fear, not self-blame, just curiosity.

What if my mind isn't broken?

What if it's inflamed?

Let me show you what I mean.

The Hidden Loop Behind Anxiety Nobody Warns You About

I woke up calm that morning. Forty-five minutes of meditation, early enough that the day hadn't started asking anything from me yet. Before emails, before coffee, before the low hum of obligation crept in.

For a moment, my mind was quiet.

I walked outside. I was smiling without forcing it.

It felt like freedom.

By noon, it was gone.

The thoughts came back fast and loud, piling over each other the way they always did, replaying old conversations, demanding answers to future problems that hadn’t happened yet, tightening something in my chest.

My body wouldn't settle. It was restless in every position.

I couldn't sit right.

I couldn't stand right.

I couldn't lie down without feeling wrong.

And in that moment, I turned on myself.

So I did what I always did when the quiet slipped away. I tried harder.

But the harder I pushed, the louder it got.

That became my loop.

Calm in the morning. Mental hell by noon.

Self-blame by night.

Over and over.

For years.

I didn't know how to stop it.

I only knew I couldn't keep blaming myself.

The Day I Realized I Wasn't Broken

I didn't decide to try carnivore (ketogenic diet) because I was convinced.

I decided because I was tired of blaming myself.

I was tired of low energy, mental fog and bad mood.

And the diet, according to my research from other peoples testimonials, could fix that.

So I told myself I’d try it for 30 days. Not because I believed in it, but because I needed to know. And if it didn’t work, at least I could stop wondering.

The first few days were rough. I felt tired and weird. I doubted the decision almost immediately and caught myself thinking:

Still, I stayed with it.

About a week and a half in, I felt worse instead of better. My energy was low enough that I knew something was off, so I asked a question in a carnivore forum, half-expecting to be told to "push through."

One reply came back.

"You need to eat more fat."

That was it.

It sounded wrong. I was already eating what I thought was enough. And everything I'd ever been told said saturated fat and cholesterol was the problem, not the solution.

I tried it anyway.

More butter and fattier cuts of meat.

The next day, it felt like someone flipped a switch.

I walked outside and realized I was talking to people again—easily, naturally, without rehearsing sentences in my head first. I caught myself joking with a stranger, smiling at a dog, moving through the world the way I used to when I was younger.

That version of me came back.

And the strangest part? It felt ordinary. Clear. Calm.

Nothing about my mindset had changed. Nothing about my discipline. Nothing about my effort.

I wasn't broken.

I'd been running my brain on the wrong fuel.

Your brain isn't a wise monk you have to master, and it isn't a defective machine you need to fix. It's a control room. And the dials inside—mood, focus, motivation, threat detection—don't respond to willpower. They respond to chemistry.

Food isn't advice to the control room.

It's the power supply.

And when the power is dirty, everything downstream behaves unpredictably—no matter how hard you try to control it.

Once I stopped treating myself like the problem, the solution became surprisingly simple.

The 30 Day Mental Reset

For thirty days, you eat meat, eggs, salt, and drink water. That’s it.

Red, fatty meat is the foundation, ground beef, steaks, whatever cuts you can afford. Cook everything in butter, ghee, or tallow. Salt it generously. Add eggs if you want. Drink water. Black coffee is fine if you already drink it.

You remove everything else. No plants. No sugar. No seed oils. No processed food. No alcohol.

You eat until you’re full. If you’re hungry again, you eat. If you’re not hungry, you don't.

No calorie counting. No tracking. No apps.

This works because it removes friction, not because it adds effort.

The first week can feel uncomfortable. Headaches. Fatigue. Cravings. Brain fog that makes people panic and think they're doing something wrong.

You're not.

This is your body switching fuel sources after years of running on sugar and ultra-processed food. The two most common mistakes are under-eating fat and under-using salt. If you feel awful, add both.

Around days seven to ten, something important happens.

The mental noise starts to quiet. Cravings loosen their grip. You get your first real glimpse of clarity—not forced, not stimulated, just there.

By thirty days, the change is unmistakable.

You wake up clear. Your energy stays steady. Conversations feel easier because your attention isn't trapped inside your head managing chaos. Pressure doesn’t hijack you the way it used to.

And the biggest shift isn't physical.

You stop negotiating with yourself.

Decisions happen, and you act. You trust your signals again. You move through the day without constantly fixing, forcing, or second-guessing yourself.

Not because you became more disciplined.

Because you finally removed what was interfering with who you already are.

The 30-Day Guided Reset

If you want to try this but don't want to figure it out alone, I built something.

The 30 Day Mental Reset is a 30-day protocol with daily accountability.

You get the complete guide - what to eat, what to avoid, meal examples, week-by-week timeline, troubleshooting for every symptom that comes up.

But more than that: you check in every day. I read every post. The community holds you when Week 1 gets hard. And you can DM me directly when something feels off.

Week 1 is the hardest part. Headaches. Cravings. Doubt.

That's exactly when most people quit - right before the shift happens.

You don't have to do it alone.

If you complete the 30 days and don't feel a noticeable shift in mental clarity or energy, I'll refund every cent.

Transform or pay nothing.

​Join The 30 Day Mental Reset​

That fog I woke up with every morning wasn't age.

It wasn't weakness.

It wasn't a broken mind.

It was a system running under constant strain.

Once the noise lifted, I saw it clearly: nothing about me had disappeared. The energy. The clarity. The version of me that woke up ready, it was all still there.

I hadn't lost myself.

I'd just buried myself under the wrong fuel.

You're not broken.

You're inflamed.

And the person you think you lost?

They never left.

All Love,

Tomas