Here’s how ChatGPT went from a useful tool to a time-wasting habit

There are plenty of mixed opinions on AI’s potential benefits and harms, but I’ll admit I’ve been somewhat hooked on it from day one. I tend to dive deep into subjects with AI for short bursts that might last hours or on-and-off for a few days, and then drift away for weeks or more when life gets busy with things that are obviously more important. Slowly but surely, though, I realized I was doing less and less when it came to other personal interests. While my AI use never disrupted my real-life obligations or relationships, it was starting to cannibalize my hobbies.

Recently, I started scrolling through my massive ChatGPT log entries. Some were simple entertainment, and others were deep thoughts that frankly got a bit heavy. There were more interactions than I’d ever care to count. That’s when the thought hit me: “Has this become my new doom scroll?” I started wondering how I got to that point, how much time I was wasting, and why it felt so addictive. Eventually, I took a deeper look at my AI usage patterns and then took a step back.

According to ChatGPT, about 75% of users ask for practical guidance, seek information, or get help with writing and work tasks. This overlaps heavily with what people traditionally use search engines for. As I already mentioned, I love diving deeply into random subjects, so I fall squarely in this camp. That said, I also use AI as a sounding board for my thoughts.

Typically, I put it in a mode like Professional or Efficient and add a few custom instructions so it isn’t overly sycophantic and will push back on my weaker ideas. This can involve history questions, alternate-history scenarios, or philosophical musings. Yes, I know how to party.

To be clear, I don’t rely on AI for anything truly important. I mostly use it for personal creative work or low-stakes questions I can verify elsewhere. As someone with ADHD who loves to daydream, I also often use it to explore hypothetical rabbit holes where accuracy isn’t the priority.

So how did this turn into an addiction? AI hits several brain-level incentives for me:

• It’s fast: I don’t have to wait for a human reply or dig across multiple sites for basic answers. Yes, fact-checking is still necessary, but it’s hard to deny the convenience.
• No judgment or boredom: My wife, mom, and friends will sometimes let me info-dump about space, philosophy, or whatever else I’m fixated on, but I quickly wear out my welcome. AI doesn’t get bored.
• It’s easy, low effort: My life has been extremely hectic lately. When I finally get a moment to unwind, I want something easy and slow-paced. In the past, that meant TV or books. Lately, it’s meant long conversations with a chatbot.

For me, this feels very similar to the dopamine loop people get from YouTube, TikTok, or doomscrolling social media. A rabbit hole here and there is harmless, whether web-based or AI-based. The problem is when an occasional time-sink becomes a regular habit that eats into everything else.

I kept noticing it was suddenly midnight or later and thinking, “Oh, I meant to play a board game with the kids,” or “watch that show with my wife,” but yet again, time had slipped away. I’m far from alone, either.

Government organizations have already warned that AI companions could represent a new frontier of digital addiction, and many teens are turning to AI chatbots as emotional outlets, offering a kind of pseudo-friendship traditionally reserved for human relationships. While I’ve never lost sight of the fact that the AI talking to me is a non-human algorithm designed to placate me, many people have also had their realities turned upside down by getting too cozy with the AI to the point they feel like it’s their closest friend. The term has been dubbed “AI psychosis” and is very real for those impacted by it.

The more I used AI as entertainment instead of interacting with real people, the more I felt like I was letting myself and others down. It never stopped me from being an active dad or husband, but my effort felt diminished as stress piled up and AI doom-chatting took up more space in my day.

Eventually, I decided to scale back the time I spent using AI, watching videos, or engaging in other digital time-wasters. I went back to refinishing furniture, started a new fiction project, and began spending more time doing arts and crafts with my youngest son. Over the last few months, I’ve become more conscious of how I use my time in general.

If I want to dive into an AI rabbit hole, I set a timer and stick to it. When it goes off, I switch to something else. I’ve been more productive, less down on myself, and interestingly, I find myself wanting to use AI much less. In fact, for the last two weeks, I’ve gone without my ChatGPT subscription and have been using only free LLM services. It felt strange at first, but now I’m wondering why I didn’t do it sooner.

Will I stay away from ChatGPT forever? Probably not, but I’ll definitely be more mindful of how I use it going forward.