What you're describing is a pretty big shift — not just in your media habits, but in how you use imagination, discipline, and time. Let's break this down because there are a few deep threads running through your experience.

You used to think you had a weak imagination and needed visual input (movies first, then books). But now, through audiobook-only experiences, you've discovered that you absolutely can build vivid, unique worlds in your head — and they're so distinct from any movie version that they feel more personal and alive.

That's actually how the brain tends to work:

• When you watch a movie, the visuals are fixed for you — you borrow the director's imagination.
• When you hear a story without visuals, your mind automatically fills in details based on your own memories, sensory associations, and creative leaps. That's why your Reacher forests, Sherlock's rooms, and Narnia's colors feel so “yours.”

It's a bit like going from being a tourist in someone else's art gallery to building your own.

You've accidentally recreated one of the most powerful productivity/creativity combinations:

• Ears engaged, hands busy, mind weaving connections.
• The low-level physical activity (mushroom work, DIY, hydroponics) doesn't compete much with the verbal processing of an audiobook, so the story still lands deeply.
• This physical engagement can even anchor the memory — that Reacher escape scene is not just in your mind, it's “stored” alongside the texture of the work you were doing at the time.

Video entertainment and gaming hijack this balance:

• Eyes, ears, hands — all consumed by the medium.
• There's no bandwidth left for your own creative visuals or separate project work.
• Afterward, you're “passive-full” rather than “active-full” — satisfied in the moment but empty when it's done.

Morning non-fiction rule → builds discipline + delayed gratification. Even if the book is dry, you've built a habit of sticking through it, and that persistence transfers to your creative projects.

Fiction at night → gives you a reward to look forward to, without interrupting productive hours.

This is opposite of how most people slide into passive media: They start the day with “just a little entertainment” and suddenly the entire day's mental energy is spent.

You've flipped the script.

By skipping movies/TV adaptations, you're keeping the book's imagery pure. Once you let in a visual version, your mind often overwrites your own vision with those actors, sets, and cinematography. It's like drawing a map from memory and then being told you were “wrong” — you lose ownership.

You're protecting the private world your brain built.

Your decision to avoid video also feels connected to your recent struggles and little victories (like the booster pump misting system working). When you're making things while consuming stories, the satisfaction is doubled:

• You progress in your real-life project.
• You progress in your story world.

After weeks of frustration, these dual wins — however small — give you back momentum.

Understood. I’ll prepare a detailed report on the psychological and behavioral drawbacks of 'time=win' or grind-heavy games, focusing on their potential negative effects on mental health and daily routines, especially for gamers. I’ll get back to you with an in-depth breakdown soon.

Many modern “time-grind” games revolve around repetitive tasks that yield small, predictable rewards. Each little win or level-up triggers a burst of dopamine (a brain chemical tied to pleasure). Over time this conditions players to expect a constant flow of these hits, turning progress into a mechanical routine rather than a real achievement. In effect, the game’s design becomes a dopamine loop: players chase one tiny rush after another. This can quickly become addictive – players often feel compelled to play longer and longer just to chase a diminishing sense of reward. As one analysis notes, endless grinding makes each victory feel like a “conditioned response” rather than genuine accomplishment.

Playing these grind-heavy games for extended hours can take a toll on mental health. Experts link excessive gaming to anxiety, depression, sleep loss and aggression. For example, Harvard Health warns that heavy gaming use is associated with insomnia and disrupted sleep cycles, along with elevated anxiety or depressed mood. Research reviews likewise find that pathological gaming produces brain changes similar to drug addiction and often correlates with clinical depression and social withdrawal. The American Psychiatric Association even defines an “Internet Gaming Disorder” by symptoms like obsessive preoccupation, withdrawal and neglect of other activities. In practice, a person caught in this cycle may feel unable to enjoy ordinary life – constantly desensitized by the game’s rewards – and struggle to quit playing even when school, work or relationships suffer.

Spending huge chunks of time on these games often disrupts daily routines and responsibilities. Players may skip sleep or meals just to squeeze in “one more level,” leading to chronic fatigue or weight gain. The Cleveland Clinic notes that severe gaming addiction often impairs personal and social functioning – for example, causing poor performance at work or school and damaged relationships. In contrast to skill-based games where practice pays off, grind-centric games reward only the hours invested. Players gain little transferable skill or true mastery, so the sense of progress can feel hollow. Over time, many players report frustration or boredom: they realize they’ve poured in a lot of time but developed nothing they can carry into real life. This can erode confidence and well-being, as the “level” on screen comes to feel more meaningful than real-world goals.

• Addictive reward loops: These games use frequent, easy rewards to keep players hooked. Each small achievement drives a dopamine surge, creating a feedback loop much like gambling or drug use.
• Mental health risks: Excessive play is linked to anxiety, depression, insomnia and even aggressive mood swings. Official criteria for gaming disorder include symptoms like obsession, withdrawal and playing despite clear problems.
• Disrupted life and routines: Heavy gamers often neglect sleep, eating, exercise or social time. Clinical reports compare stopping an addictive gaming session after just an hour to asking an alcoholic to quit after one drink. This makes balance very hard and can harm real-life responsibilities.
• Skill vs. time investment: Unlike games that reward actual skill or creativity, time-grind games mostly reward the hours you put in. The resulting achievements can feel empty, since they’re tied to sheer time spent rather than player effort or learning.

In summary, games built around excessive grinding deliver plenty of quick rewards but few real benefits. Medical experts caution that if gaming “becomes your life,” it can trigger a cycle of addiction-like symptoms and emotional problems. Gamers concerned about their well-being should practice moderation, take regular breaks, and seek out challenges that build real skills and satisfaction rather than just piling on playtime.

Sources: Research articles and health experts on gaming addiction and reward systems.

That's a fantastic reflection — and honestly you've put your finger right on the key difference between time=win design vs. skill=win design in games.

Let me unpack what you noticed, because it's a pretty big insight into how modern (and even retro) game loops are built:

• Core loop: Do repetitive, low-skill actions → get small rewards → eventually get big rewards.
• Progression is stored in the save file, not in you.
• The challenge isn't intellectual or mechanical — it's endurance: how many hours can you sink in?
• Games like Pokémon, most MMOs, Assassin's Creed (post-Origins especially), or gacha/mobile games thrive on this.

• The dopamine hit comes from:

  • Watching bars fill up (XP, levels, loot counters).
  • Being “stronger than yesterday.”
  • The illusion of progress even when nothing new was learned.

It's designed to addict — to make you feel like you achieved something, when actually the system is just paying you in tiny bursts of dopamine for time.

• Core loop: You learn → you adapt → you conquer.
• Progression is stored in your brain and hands, not in the save file.
• You could delete your save and still replay the game with confidence because you are stronger, not your character.
• Games like Sekiro, Dark Souls, Hollow Knight, Celeste, fighting games, rhythm games belong here.

• The dopamine hit comes from:

  • Finally beating something you couldn't before.
  • That “AHA” feeling when mechanics click.
  • Internal mastery → external victory.

These games respect your time because every minute you spend, you come away with actual growth.

Pokémon (especially the old gens) are masters of the grind loop:

• Battle → get XP → ding, new level → dopamine.
• New badge → higher-level enemies → grind more → dopamine.
• And because you love your Pokémon (they're cute, they “feel like yours”), you want to make them strong — even though the system is mostly about repeating easy fights until numbers go up.

This is why you found yourself wrecking your routine: the loop hijacks your brain's reward circuitry. The “just one more battle” loop can eat whole nights.

You realized: 👉 “The game is training me to value the hours I spend, not the skills I learn.”

That's exactly the psychological trap of grind-based design.

And by deleting the games + restricting your console to “OUTSIDE HOME ONLY,” you basically built yourself a guardrail so that the console serves its intended purpose: a little snack of entertainment, not a replacement for your entire day.

• Time=win games = dopamine treadmill.
• Skill=win games = actual mental/physical growth.

And you seem to thrive on the latter — where your own creativity, focus, and improvement are the fuel. Which is probably why you enjoyed Sekiro (and even your experiments with manga drawing!) more than the “grind loop” style.

Would you like me to put together a list of retro-friendly, portable games (SNES/GBA/PS1/NDS era) that fall more into the skill=win category so you don't accidentally fall into another “Pokémon Crystal situation”?

Got it — thanks for clarifying 👌

That's a really important distinction: not just “time=win vs. skill=win,” but also “useful skills vs. useless skills.”

What you're saying is:

• Grinding games (Pokémon, Assassin's Creed) waste your time.
• Skill-based games (Sekiro, fighting games, speedrunners) don't waste time in the same way, but they still train a hyper-specific motor skill that has zero transfer outside the game.
• So you've cut both out, because at the end of the day, neither kind of progression “lives in your real life.”

And instead you're leaning towards the kind of games I recommended earlier — ones that are more like:

• 📖 Interactive storytelling → experiences that change your mood, worldview, or emotions.
• 🎨 Atmosphere and aesthetics → games that are art, not chores.
• 🪞 Reflective metaphors → experiences that echo real life, even if abstractly.

Basically, you're treating games the same way people treat books, poetry, films, or music: not as training exercises or dopamine treadmills, but as emotional/creative nourishment.

That's why the list I gave you fits you really well. Stuff like To the Moon or Undertale doesn't give you “better muscle memory” but it shapes your perspective and gives you things to think about. That sticks with you long after the console is off — just like reading a novel.

It's actually a third category:

🎮 Three Types of Play

1. Time=Win → Grind games. Progress = sunk hours. (Pokémon, MMOs, AC).
2. Skill=Win → Mastery games. Progress = motor skills/strategy, but only inside game. (Sekiro, Souls, PvP).
3. Experience=Win → Narrative/atmosphere games. Progress = emotional impact, reflection, creative inspiration. (To the Moon, Undertale, Rakuen).

It sounds like you've landed firmly in #3 — which is closer to how you already treat manga, books, or audiobooks: things that enrich your inner world, not just kill time.

Do you want me to expand your library a bit in category #3 — specifically focusing on retro/indie titles you can keep on your retro console for outside-the-house use? That way you won't accidentally fall back into time-grind or skill-grind loops.