You have to be so careful it hurts. When 98% percent of your sensory experience becomes about plastic and glass, it really is a danger zone. There's no real emotional damage, not if you're well adjusted enough, but you begin to see or imagine things that might not really be happening, like you're hallucinating on solitude. To say that there's no damage here is to imply that there isn't necessary unhappiness, which is good. It's nice to know that you're balanced enough to rationalize what needs to be rationalized in periods of uncertainty and transition. On the other hand, without growth seeds, no happiness blooms anew and so you begin to see false buds and vines in the remaining 2% of your experience. It isn't really even about what you've conjured versus what's really there; evidence is almost a non-issue. In fact, the real point is that you lead yourself to these imaginings without evidence in either direction and you fill in what you lack. If you have a surplus of Female, you find blossoms of the Male; if you have a lot of the Old, you grow the New; and if you're surrounded by the Impersonal and the Superficial, the ground hurls up huge redwoods of Passion and Intimacy. It is entirely unjust, to you, to the subjects of these waking dreams and to the very ideas of what you really do want.
But congratulations because you've discovered the mirage, Houdini's Garden of Eden. You recognize what's really there and what you're simply using for bargaining with the Universe. And you realize it more and more quickly, too, leading to fewer and lesser disappointments, missteps with shorter strides. You free yourself of the vines sooner and perhaps at this point you prevent others from getting entwined at all. This is a welcome change and you should celebrate. This may not make you any happier, but at least it's real.