Confessions of a Student Addicted to AI

I never thought addiction could come in the form of typed questions and blinking cursors.

But here I am—21 years old, a third-year university student, and completely addicted to AI.

Not gaming.

Not drugs.

Not social media.

Artificial Intelligence.

Sounds absurd, right?

It wasn’t until my grades started improving too fast and my motivation to learn crashed that I realized something was seriously wrong.

The Beginning: Curiosity Turned Dependency

It all started during the pandemic. Like most students, I was drowning in online classes, pre-recorded lectures, and zero motivation. One night, while scrolling Reddit, I stumbled upon a post that said:

“Why stress over assignments when ChatGPT can do it in seconds?”

It felt illegal to even click the link. But curiosity won.

I typed in my first prompt:

“Explain photosynthesis in simple terms.”

Within seconds, there it was—an answer better than anything in my biology textbook. Clear. Concise. Smart.

It wasn’t long before I started using it for everything:

Summarizing chapters

Writing code

Brainstorming essays

Creating citations

Even replying to emails

At first, it felt like a miracle. I was productive. I was efficient. Professors praised my “improved clarity.”

But what I didn’t realize was this:

Every time I used AI, I was slowly giving away the parts of my brain that used to think.

The High of Instant Knowledge

Using AI gave me a dopamine rush no textbook ever could. I didn’t have to wrestle with understanding. I didn’t have to dig deep or spend hours revising.

Ask. Receive. Done.

It wasn’t cheating, I told myself. I was just “optimizing” my process. Everyone uses tools, right?

But then I noticed something strange:

I couldn’t write a paragraph without asking AI first.

I’d type: “Help me start an introduction on climate change.”

Then copy. Paste. Modify. Done.

I wasn’t learning anymore. I was outsourcing my brain.

When Things Fell Apart

It hit me during finals.

Our professor introduced something we weren’t prepared for: in-class written exams with no internet.

The question was easy: “Compare Plato’s and Aristotle’s views on ethics.”

I stared at the blank paper for 20 minutes.

I knew I’d read this. I’d even submitted an essay on it. But none of it was mine. I couldn’t recall a single point. My brain felt… silent. Empty.

I failed that exam.

It wasn’t that I didn’t study—it was that I’d forgotten how to think without a digital crutch.

The Psychological Toll

Beyond grades, it affected my identity. I used to be curious. I used to love connecting dots, diving into theories, debating ideas.

Now? I felt like a machine myself.

Feed in a question. Wait for output. Copy results.

I stopped reading books. Why read 300 pages when AI could summarize it in 5 seconds?

I stopped asking “why.”

I only asked “how to make it faster.”

I wasn’t learning. I was surviving.

And it started to bleed into my personal life, too.

I once used AI to write a birthday message for my best friend.

He said, “This doesn’t sound like you.”

Because it wasn’t.

Is It All AI's Fault?

Not entirely.

AI is a tool. A brilliant, powerful, revolutionary tool.

But here’s the catch: Tools don’t think for you—but they can make you forget how to think.

I had allowed AI to take the wheel. Not as a co-pilot, but as the driver of my entire academic journey.

It was my shortcut. My safety net. My silent partner in every success.

But it also became my crutch. And when it was removed, I collapsed.

The Detox

I knew I had to stop. But AI addiction is subtle. It doesn’t come with withdrawal symptoms like substances. It comes with temptation.

It’s 1 AM. You have an assignment due. The prompt box is just there—waiting.

What saved me wasn’t willpower. It was structure.

Here’s what I did:

One-Day Rule: No AI usage for 24 hours. Forced me to think again.

Brainstorm First: Write my own ideas before asking AI anything.

Journal Reflections: What did I learn on my own today?

Use AI as a reviewer, not a creator. I write it. AI edits it.

It took months. But slowly, I regained my voice.

My mind began connecting thoughts again. Writing became harder, but mine.

The Grey Zone: Finding Balance

I still use AI. But now it’s a partner, not a master.

I use it to:

Test my understanding

Debate against my answers

Break down complex topics after I try them myself

AI doesn’t have to be the enemy of learning. But unchecked, it can become a replacement for it.

The danger isn’t in the tool.

It’s in our dependence.

Final Confession

Sometimes, I still slip.

Sometimes I copy-paste when I’m too tired.

Sometimes I ask AI things I could easily Google.

But now I’m aware. Now I reflect.

This is the truth no one talks about in the shiny world of “productivity hacks” and “AI will change education.”

It’s not just changing it.

It’s redefining what it means to learn.

And if we’re not careful…

We might forget how to learn at all.