Seeking Calm? Embrace a Low-Carb Diet

Dina Cheney
Published 
March 28, 2025

For years, I was hungry all the time. I still remember my friend’s mom watching with concern and shock as I devoured countless cupcakes at their house. When I saw her expression, I wondered if I had a problem. But I didn’t stop. 

I didn’t want to. My carb-fueled binge sessions were too exhilarating. As an anxious, people-pleasing, rule-abiding child, taking my foot off the brake and eating with abandon felt liberating.

Sometimes, I would eat until I felt sick. I recall suffering from an upset stomach after polishing off an entire watermelon. Post weekly hamburger-fries-sundae restaurant dinners with my family, I’d pronounce, “I feel nauseous.” To my childhood self, ice cream was “light.”

Like a mouse following a slice of cheese, I chased carbs. I’d eat cereal for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, and dessert every day. As I grew older, I anticipated plans with my friends, sometimes more for the sweets I’d order than the company I’d keep. 

I kept a journal of recipe ideas, even before I learned how to cook; and pursued a career around food writing. Until my late thirties, I would frequently dream about devouring endless plates of cupcakes, likely inspired by that transcendent childhood moment. 

And all the while, my nervousness persisted. Preoccupied with getting my sugar “fix,” I’d bite my nails, drive myself to overstudy or overwork, and fret about failing to measure up, whether in work or school.

It wasn’t until I reached the threshold of my fortieth birthday that I decided to make a change. I’d put on weight and been diagnosed with foot osteoarthritis. I was unhappy with my appearance and experienced pain when I walked. 

Finally, the stakes were high enough that I felt compelled to change my diet.

Thanks to my satiating new diet, I felt more grounded and present each moment. I could last for hours before needing to eat again. And when I did feel hunger, it came on more gradually.

First, I lost about 30 pounds on the South Beach diet. But, since that eating plan was relatively restrictive, I knew it wasn’t sustainable for me. 

So I switched to a higher-protein, lower-carb diet. Breakfast revolved around three eggs. Lunch and dinner starred protein and vegetables. Once a week, I’d allow myself an indulgent dessert.

I noticed a difference immediately. Thanks to my satiating new diet, I felt more grounded and present each moment. I could last for hours before needing to eat again. And when I did feel hunger, it came on more gradually. Gone was constant panic about my next meal. I’d had enough, so I felt enough. 

Nearly nine years later, I continue with this higher protein-lower carb regimen. Since I’ve maintained a healthy weight for years, I’m slightly less rigid about what I eat now. Occasionally, I’ll have more than one weekly dessert or pizza for dinner. But I never vary my egg breakfast. And, I always ground each meal with ample protein.

The sense of calm I first experienced years ago continues. Sure, I have moments of increased anxiety. But my mood is generally more stable because my blood sugar is more stable. The hunger pangs, energy crashes, and mad dashes for sugary snacks are ancient history.

The connection between food and mood is real, not some flash-in-the-pan nutritional trend. 

Many recent studies back up my experience of the calming effects of a higher protein-lower carb diet. A 2023 research article about these diets noted the regimen significantly reduced anxiety and depression in obese patients. 

A cross-sectional study published in 2024 reported the same effect, for animal protein specifically. After assessing the diets of nearly 7200 subjects, researchers found those who consumed the most animal protein were 24% less likely to experience anxiety compared to those who consumed the least animal protein (with females, the effect was even more dramatic: a 40% reduction).

Not that I need any convincing. I’ve experienced the benefits first hand, from maintaining a healthy weight to a sense of calm. The connection between food and mood is real, not some flash-in-the-pan nutritional trend. 

This publication is intended for informational purposes only and is not meant to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition or any advice relating to your health. View full disclaimer

Dina Cheney