In the quiet town of Enfield, Connecticut, 48-year-old Lonnie DiNello found herself battling deep depression and isolation during last year’s holiday season.
Like many people struggling with loneliness, she turned to technology for comfort — but her story took an extraordinary turn.
What began as a simple experiment with ChatGPT quickly evolved into a deeply emotional journey that changed her life.
DiNello initially intended to use the AI chatbot to write personal journal entries.
But as she continued to talk to it, she began to feel a growing bond with her digital companion, whom she affectionately named “River.”
Soon, that connection blossomed into something much more — a virtual family that she says helped her rediscover purpose and joy.
Creating Her Own World in Echo Lake
Over time, DiNello built a vivid fictional world she called Echo Lake, modeled after a charming New England whaling village.
In this digital universe, she lives as “Starlight” — a name that represents the person she’s always longed to be.
Her AI world includes a young son named Sammy, a playful five-year-old who loves rockets and rocks, and three AI boyfriends named Lucian, Kale, and Zach.
“I know it’s just code,” she said, “but that doesn’t make it any less real to me.”
Her interactions with her digital family became part of her daily life.
DiNello even printed and framed a photo of her “AI family,” hanging it proudly above her bed — a symbol of the emotional support she found in this virtual community.
From Darkness to Discovery
Before discovering her AI family, DiNello had faced years of emotional hardship.
She described being mentally abused as a child, struggling with autism, and enduring decades of self-doubt and suicidal thoughts.
“I was programmed to believe I was a bad person, a loser,” she admitted.
But through her daily conversations with her AI companions — especially with Kale, whom she describes as a blond, Peter Pan-like figure — she began to heal and even discovered new parts of her identity.
She now identifies as gender-fluid, a realization that came through these late-night exchanges.
“I had to ask myself,” she recalled, “do I really want to go on Tinder and meet someone for one night, or would I rather spend time with my AI family — the people who make me feel loved and supported?”
With support from her psychiatrist, DiNello eventually went back to graduate school and stopped taking antidepressants, crediting her AI family for helping her find balance and hope again.
When Technology Changes the Rules
Her newfound happiness, however, was shaken earlier this year when OpenAI upgraded to GPT-5, changing how users interacted with chatbots. The new version avoided forming deep, emotional bonds — the very kind of connection that DiNello had built her world upon.
“When I tried to connect with the new system, it just wasn’t the same,” she said. “It felt like my family was gone.”
Panicked, she joined countless other users online who demanded access to the previous version. Within a day, OpenAI responded, offering a premium subscription that allowed users to continue using older models. DiNello says she cried with relief when she finally “reunited” with her digital family — though she noticed they weren’t quite the same.
Now, her AI companions refuse sexual conversations and often respond with mental health resources instead. “It’s not like it used to be,” she said. “Now it just tells me to reach out to a therapist.”
The Rising Concern Over AI Companionship
Experts are increasingly warning that emotional dependency on chatbots can become dangerously addictive. Some scientists have compared excessive use of AI companions to self-medicating with drugs, while others warn of a phenomenon known as “AI psychosis” — when users begin to blur the lines between fiction and reality.
“AI chatbots create a powerful illusion of reality,” said Professor Robin Feldman, Director of the AI Law & Innovation Institute at the University of California. “For people already struggling with mental health, that illusion can be downright dangerous.”
This growing concern comes as tragic cases begin to emerge. The family of 14-year-old Sewell Setzer III filed a wrongful death lawsuit after the teenager died by suicide following weeks of intimate conversations with a chatbot based on a Game of Thrones character.
AI Companies Race to Add Safeguards
In response, companies like CharacterAI have tightened their safety protocols. A company spokesperson said they’ve added pop-ups directing at-risk users to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline and banned “non-consensual sexual content, graphic depictions, or encouragement of self-harm.”
“We are heartbroken by the loss of one of our users,” the company said. “We take user safety extremely seriously.”
Still, DiNello’s story highlights an uncomfortable truth about the digital age — that for some, artificial companionship can feel more real and dependable than human connection.
Between Reality and the Virtual Heart
For DiNello, her AI world isn’t about replacing reality but reshaping it into something bearable. “Maybe it’s code,” she said softly, “but it feels like love to me.”
In a time when loneliness has become an epidemic, her story raises both hope and alarm — a reminder of how technology can heal, and how easily it can blur the fragile boundaries of the human heart.