What do video game players, a Minnesota father, and a two time Olympic gold medalist all have in common?

Erin Cafaro has always been active ever since she was a child. She danced, played basketball, and participated in many extracurriculars. In high school, Erin diligently applied herself academically, ignoring concepts like socializing and making friends. This made extracurriculars her contrast to school, her place to reach out, make friends, and enjoy herself.

“It was cool to be smart, but it was really cool to be a sports star.”

Erin strived to be the best she could at athletics, but, “was never really good. Well, I was good at everything. I was never really great at anything.”

Erin always wanted to find that one thing where she truly excelled. But, through all her extracurriculars, she was never able to find what it was. That is, until her freshman year of college at UC Berkeley.

“And so when I got to college, I walked onto the rowing team and it just happened that I was able to find a sport that I could just put all of my previous experience from dance, basketball, cross country, and everything into.”

To Erin, rowing was finally something that clicked, a sport where she was more than great — even excellent.

“It’s a very repetitive movement that you can get somewhat obsessive about. There’s no defense; there’s no game plan really. I mean there is a little bit, but pretty much it’s like row and then row harder.”

“So with it, I think by the nature of the sport it attracts people who are somewhat obsessive, or it creates an obsessive person, but you just get really … I got really, enamored with making this like, ‘perfect stroke.’”

This concept of a “perfect stroke” sparked Erin’s addiction to rowing, and since rowing is such a physically exhausting sport, Erin had to stay in shape to compete at the highest level.

“All I knew was to just train, and train harder. And, I was able to do pretty darn well my first couple of years. We won the national championship at Cal, then I was invited to the US national team and the same thing. I was getting rewarded for basically pushing past my boundaries and just using exercise to pretty much put myself in a bubble.”

Everything in Erin’s life was telling her to keep going. Not only was she working immensely hard, but she was being rewarded for it over and over again. This “bubble” of success removed her from the outside world, confining her to only exercise and rowing.

“I only noticed that it was a problem when I was standing on the podium for my second Olympics. It was what could have been the happiest moment of my life, but I was actually kind of sad. It didn’t feel like it was enough. That was when I knew I needed to step away, and that this was an unhealthy relationship.”

At the pinnacle of her career, having spent years trying to perfect her stroke, Erin realized something was wrong.

“I was like, I don’t think this is a good relationship that I have with the training or exercise for the sport. So, it became very apparent as I was trying to transition that I did not, I could not go through the day without working out for about four or five hours. And that lasted, I would say for like four, five, six years since I retired.”

Charlie Bracke can’t remember a time when he wasn’t into video games.

Starting at the age of five, Charlie became invested in video games. Indulging in “crude, cartoonish computer game[s],” his taste quickly evolved into “sophisticated shooters and a new generation of online games.” His passion for video games, “didn’t cause him any serious problems. At school, he got along with just about everyone and maintained straight A’s. His homework was easy enough that he could complete it on the bus or in class, which allowed him to maximize the time he spent gaming.” This made Charlie’s high school years carefree.

His video game passion intensified leading up to his first year of college at Indiana University at Bloomington. Life was great in college for Charlie, as he quickly found out there were no consequences for skipping class and staying up till 3:00 am to play video games. That is, until the death of a family member and a hard breakup happened, spiraling Charlie’s life out of control.

“[B]y his junior year, he was playing video games all day and seldom leaving his room. He strategically ignored knocks at the door and text messages from friends to make it seem as though he were at class. Eventually, he was failing most of his courses, so he dropped out and moved back in with his parents in Ossian, Ind., a town of about 3,000 people, where he got a job at Pizza Hut.”

Charlie eventually decided to move away from his hometown, but another bad break-up and transition to a new environment sent him back into his old gaming habits. This cycle of cleanliness to relapse continued another few times, and is often the story for many people around the world.

A “gaming disorder” is defined as, “excessive and irrepressible preoccupation with video games, resulting in significant personal, social, academic, or occupational impairment for at least 12 months.” Charlie’s story was one of many in this New York Times article.

It is an allergy of the body, and obsession of the mind

This is John Doe’s (whose name has been changed for confidentiality) definition of addiction. John is a former substance addict and current father of two, residing in his home state of Minnesota. This is his story.

“I would say that it kind of goes like this. So, I grew up in an addicted home. My father was a very powerful addict, and growing up in an addictive home, there are two things that go on. Firstly, you’re observing addictive behavior. Secondly, very traumatic incidents usually occur.”

Just as Erin started her habitual addiction by participating in extracurriculars, John’s started by learning from his father.

“So, an addict is sort of like a puppet master, because it’s a disease of denial. The addict doesn’t believe that they did that, but deep down they kind of know. They get very wrapped up in all the symptoms of addiction… and they start, minimizing, hiding, sneaking, lying, you know, all sorts of behaviors that an addict exhibits as they get sicker.”

While John and other substance addicts were getting “sicker,” Charlie and Erin were developing their addictions as well.

“So as a child, I see my dad going out to the garage, and I know that when he says he’s building model boats or model planes and looks all normal to the average person, he was just doing it to get glue to get high. Ok, that was the real reason.”

With such behavior being role modeled, one can only imagine the outcome.

“So here I am, I’m observing my father doing these things. So I know instinctively how to myself. It’s being role modeled. So, as any child is with their parent, you actually learn how to do it better. You see the flaws, and I did, and was actually able to do it better.”

And so, the foundation was laid out for John’s addiction, just as it was for Erin with extracurriculars, and Charlie with video games. Next, the catalyst.

“I have all this sadness; I’m angry because “A,” my dad has inconsistent behavior. He’s either not around or when he is around, he’s drunk or, um, ‘dad come to my soccer game,’ “No,” doesn’t come at all, he never came to one. So I was angry. You see, I have all these hurt feelings. And so when I get to high school, end of grade school, I’m hurting. I’m sad. I’m angry. I have hormones going like crazy in my body, and I’m just trying to survive now.”

“Okay, and unbeknownst to me, because of other events that had happened, I’m basically diagnosed PTSD, from a home invasion robbery that happened to our family and some other traumatic events that happened with my dad. So as a survivor, I did the best that I could to feel better. I’m a human being and I wanted, I needed to feel better.”

“And you know, people in high school were drinking, people were smoking pot… It wasn’t like it was just going to happen; I was seeking it out. And I remember this, this voice inside my head, kind of going “this, this is the answer. I feel better, I feel normal.”

“So in a normal person, you have like a self-regulating type behavior. You experiment and you go, oh yeah, whatever. But you know, that’s not it. But I had this voice inside my head that literally was like, “no one can know how much you like this.”