Recovering video game addict Kevin Roberts gives compulsive gamers and surfers—and their family and friends—a step-by-step guide for recovery.

Welcome to the Cyber Universe

“Understanding can overcome any situation, however mysterious or insurmountable it may appear to be.”
--Norman Vincent Peale

The phone rang, and I initially didn’t answer. The caller was persistent, however. I finally decided to pick up because the ringing was breaking my gaming concentration. I had told all my friends that I was out of town, so I couldn’t imagine who it might be.
  “Hello,” I barked into the phone.
It was Doug, a friend of mine since childhood. He and I had grown up on the same street, and he had recently started renting a room in my next-door neighbor’s house. Doug declared, “I am fully aware of what’s going on over there.”
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I righteously asserted as my right hand continued to work the computer mouse (I had turned down the volume to avoid detection).
  “Well, you might have had me fooled into believing that you actually were up north like you said, except for one miscalculation on your part,” Doug told me in the tone of a clever detective.
  “I don’t know what you mean,” I continued my deception.
  Seeming almost disappointed at my lack of foresight, Doug responded, “You should have turned down the speakers. I can hear the catapults destroy the city walls because the sound’s traveling through your walls and through mine.” He was mad not only about the noise, but also because I had lied to him.
  “How long have you been playing?” he asked.
  “I don’t know,” I replied—truthfully, because I really did not know.
  “It’s noon right now.” He went on, “Have you been to bed yet?”
  I confessed, “Actually, I haven’t. I’ve been up for twenty-two hours straight, and most of that time has been spent on the computer.”

What is it about video games and the Internet that would lead a grown man to become consumed to this point? Video games and computers are not new inventions. The first game was introduced in 1958 at the Brookhaven National Laboratory. The game, Tennis for Two, prefigured a game that became widespread in the early 1970s, Pong. In the late 1970s, Tandy came out with the first mass-produced home computers, a development quickly followed by more complex game consoles such as Atari. Still, times have obviously changed and the role of technology in our lives has expanded greatly. In addition to incredible growth in the number of technological devices we encounter daily, the type of technology and games has also changed. While it was easy to walk away from the simplistic video games of my youth, the new games offer much more that captivate players and hold their interest. Likewise, the Internet in general and other various digital technologies are constant companions and an integral part of our modern world. The benefits of this technology are many, and yet such progress comes at a price. The number of people with a problem related to gaming and use of other devices is growing exponentially in the United States and around the world. A May 2009 study reported in Psychological Science found that 8.5 percent of young video gamers exhibited signs of addiction to gaming. Maressa Hecht Orzack, director of the Computer Addiction Study Center at Harvard, says that her research shows that between 5 and 10 percent of Web users suffer from a Web dependency. Clearly, the problem is already out of control.

Often, the reality of this problem leaves loved ones dumb-founded. Family members and friends can hardly believe it when they discover that their loved one prefers playing a game to almost every other activity, and would rather network online than spend time with people in the real world. They want to help their loved one but struggle to understand what compels someone to throw away so much. The apparent waste of time and energy shocks and even offends. Why would anyone do this? We know that alcohol, food, drugs, and gambling can overtake a person’s life and become addictive. But video games and the Internet?

Indeed, the intricacies of the cyber world, and the allure of it, remain a mystery for many. Each one of the thousands of video games on the market speaks its own jargon, making it exceedingly difficult for a nongamer to achieve even a rudimentary comprehension of the particulars of a game. The Internet carries its own sort of confusion as well. Although many people use Internet networking and chat sites, the majority struggle to make sense of how an individual could stay up all night chatting with friends or customizing a MySpace page. Parents, friends, and loved ones suffer confusion because cyber junkies seem to live in a different world, which they cannot penetrate. They want to help their loved one, but they do not know how.

What are we talking about here, a bad habit or an addiction? Experts disagree on whether such a thing as cyber or gaming addiction exists. The American Psychiatric Association has been debating whether compulsive Internet use and video gaming meet the accepted criteria of addiction and whether it should be listed as a “disorder” in the next edition of its diagnostic book. I’m not a scientist and I don’t claim to be an authority when it comes to alcohol or other drug problems. What I do know are the ins and outs of cyber and gaming problems and how those problems can destroy a person’s life. I’m not alone in recognizing this problem. In the United States, newsgroups, community activists, government officials, teachers, and throngs of concerned parents have come together to agree that a problem exists and that solutions have been difficult to find. Other parts of the world have already accepted the existence of cyber addiction and have begun to take action. In Japan, Taiwan, Holland, China, and South Korea, the problem is widely recognized and treatment centers are well-established. South Korea considers Internet addiction a serious national health crisis and has taken an active approach toward both treating and preventing the problem. In the end, then, it doesn’t really matter what you call it—compulsive use, problem use or abuse, or addiction. It exhibits many similarities to other behaviors that have already been officially classified as addictive.

Excerpted from Cyber Junkie: Escape the Gaming and Internet Trap by Kevin Roberts. Kevin Roberts is a recovering video game addict who offers help through support groups to assist others struggling with cyber addiction to get their lives back on track. He is a nationally recognized expert on video gaming addiction and a regular conference speaker. Cyber Junkie is his first book.


Cyber Junkie
Escape the Gaming and Internet Trap

Softcover, 204 pages
Item: 2871

In this groundbreaking book, recovering video game addict Kevin Roberts uses extensive scientific and social research, complemented by his and others’ personal stories, to give compulsive gamers and surfers—and their family and friends—a step-by-step guide for recovery. He outlines the ways that “cyber junkies” exhibit the classic signs of addiction and reveals how they can successfully recover by following a program similar to those used for other addictions. Readers learn to identify whether they have an addiction, find the right resources to get individualized help, and regain a rewarding life away from the screen by learning new thoughts and behaviors that free them from the cravings that rule their lives. Included is a guide for parents for working with their addicted children.

List Price: $14.95 Each
Online Price: $13.45 Each

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We need to gain a sense of value in order to feel we are worthy of the recovery process. As soon as possible, we must begin the process of actively valuing and approving ourselves.

A part of recovery is to become independent of the need for other people's approval. Many people raised in troubled families are often highly dependent upon others' approval and on what others think of them. It is important to become self-validating so that we are not so dependent on others, but also because it allows us to see movement in our process of recovery. It allows us to see that, in fact, we are doing things differently now than we have done them in the past. It allows us to see our progress, and that gives us something to celebrate. It also gives us a sense of hope, direction, and helps to keep us in the process.

Yet, most of us are harshly critical of ourselves. Unless we do something as significant as moving a mountain, it is never good enough. And then if we do move the mountain, unless there are people there applauding, it is still never good enough. Few people in their lifetimes ever move mountains, but if they do, they do it with the help of a lot of other people and by taking a lot of little steps. Yet, it isn't the mountain getting moved that makes the difference—it is the little steps along the way.

Earlier I mentioned the tendency for people to take recovery in leaps and bounds. This is understandable because so much of our life has been experienced in extremes and with unrealistic expectations. We have often lived our life from a "one and ten" perspective (forgetting the numbers two through nine)—an all or nothing way of being, feeling, living.

Recovery is learning the numbers two through nine. We need to accept and validate ourselves for being who we are. Because we can never be perfect, we are not doomed to failure. We must accept both our power and powerlessness in life.

We deserve to experience our personal growth, to celebrate and feel good about ourselves. Yet, it is so difficult to be self-approving when, as a child, you learned that no matter what you did, it was never good enough. We don't need anyone today to reinforce this belief/delusion; we have internalized it. We have been constantly repeating that message to ourselves. As children we needed our parents to tell us specifically what was likable or lovable about us. We needed our parents to applaud us for just being. Parents are often critical of their children, very abrupt in their responses, and often simply don't notice the little things (or even the big things) that help children feel good about who they are.

One child comes home from school, looking forward to telling her mother about the day, to find Mom passed out on the couch. Another child comes home to tell his mother something that made him feel good that day and finds Mom locked inside the bedroom crying. In either case, the children aren't going to be acknowledged, supported, or validated. Their needs are ignored, and they are recognized only when they try to take care of their mother.

Another child brings home his report card that shows he has done extremely well. He is anxious to show it to Dad, seeking Dad's approval, but Dad doesn't come home that night. In fact, three days go by before Dad returns. Do you think anyone remembers then that this thirteen-year-old boy has brought home his report card? Does anyone care? No, everybody is focused on Dad—where he had been, what he was doing, and what will happen now.

When children are developing their sense of worth and their identity, they gain a sense of their personal value by others' verbal responses, or failure to respond, and others' behavior toward them. Children need to know what is good about their behavior and themselves. "I need to know that I am special. I am of value. I am important." They consistently need to hear words that affirm this. When that does not occur, children fail to internalize a sense of worth, value, or accomplishment.
As an adult, you need to begin validating yourself as a part of your own reparenting process. When people truly begin to validate themselves simply for being who they are, they are not going to have to continue to seek outside approval.
When you first begin to look back at your early loss conditions, such as the absence of validation, it is easy to get overwhelmed by personal pain. Consequently, people often comment they wish they were still in denial. People talk about entering the tunnel of recovery and, rather than seeing light at the end, feel the tunnel closing in around them, getting darker. If this happens to you, it may help to remember this: By recognizing that you are in the process of recovery, you are beginning to shine your own light.

    You deserve to have a sense of moving forward. You deserve self-validation and self-approval. This will give you a sense of hope and give you the patience that you deserve to help you work through your losses.
    I want you to be able to validate yourself so you can say:
    "Today someone asked my opinion and I had one. Yes, me! I—who have never felt safe forming my own opinion—I had one."
  "Today I got angry and I knew it. In the past it took me six years to figure out I had a feeling and another two years to know it was anger."
    "I didn't work through my whole lunch hour, just half of it."
    "Today I received a compliment. I said thank you and didn't say ‘Yes, but. . . .'"
Affirming, approving, validating—these are the little steps for which you deserve applause. It is very important to stop and take time to identify the little steps in recovery, the little bits of success. This strengthens your sense of self and reinforces your new beliefs. Also, try not to be preoccupied with what hasn't changed for you yet. Focus on what is happening now.
    Start now—lay this book down, stand up, and applaud yourself! You are in the process of recovery.
    As a way of making self-validation a habit, take time out each day to focus on your positive attributes. Recognize at least three new behaviors or attitudes that are reflective of your real, valuable self and the new direction you are taking.

Excerpted from Changing Course: Healing from Loss, Abandonment, and Fear by Claudia Black, Ph.D., a pioneer in counseling adult children of alcoholics. She is the author of It Will Never Happen to Me, It's Never too Late to Have a Happy Childhood, and My Dad Loves Me, My Dad Has a Disease. She lives in the Seattle area.


Changing Course
Healing from Loss, Abandonment, and Fear

Softcover, 208 pages
Item: 1972

In Changing Course, the best-selling sequel to It Will Never Happen to Me, Claudia Black extends a helping hand to individuals working their way through the painful experience of being raised with addiction.

"How do you go from living according to the rules—Don't Talk, Don't Trust, Don't Feel—to a life where you are free to talk and trust and feel?" Black asks. "You do this through a process that teaches you to go to the source of those rules, to question them, and to create new rules of your own," she explains. Using charts, exercises, checklists, and real-life stories of adult children of alcoholics, Black carefully and expertly guides readers in healing from the fear, shame, and chaos of addiction.

Online Price: $14.95 Each

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A personal anecdote by Melody Beattie reflects on the nature of faith and confronting the pain of controlling obsessions and victimhood.

Jump

Nichole was driving. I was a passenger. We were on the short road that runs behind my home, on our way to get some food, when the car ahead of us, an older dark Mercedes, slammed on the brakes. The next or simultaneous thing we heard was the screeching of an animal piercing the evening air. The next thing we saw was a cat shooting through the air and into the bushes on the side of the road. The car started to drive away. Nichole stepped on the gas, driving around and in front of the Mercedes—effectively blocking it from moving forward. Nichole lowered the passenger window and leaned across me. The driver of the Mercedes, a dark-haired man with a high forehead—the kind that has worry wrinkles running all the way across it in parallel lines—rolled down his.
    “What are you going to do about that cat?” she screamed.
    He furrowed his eyebrows. “What cat?” he asked. He maneuvered the Mercedes around us and drove off into the night.
    “Why do people do that?” Nichole said, turning to me in anger and confusion. “Why do people lie like that?”
    I started to psychoanalyze the man. Then I cut myself short.
    On my trip to the Middle East, I had faced that question too. It was one I had asked for many years in my life. Shortly after climbing Mount Sinai, I had gone on to Israel. I spent ten days in the Holy Land, then traveled by car to the country of Jordan. For some reason, I had it in my mind and heart that I wanted to visit Pakistan on this trip too. In fact, I was obsessed with getting into this country, even though I had been told that obtaining a visa was difficult, if not impossible. Undaunted, challenged, and determined, I traveled by car to Jordan, a small country neighboring Israel, and started working on the visa officer at the Pakistani Embassy there, trying to beg, coerce, or convince this man to let me in.
    After I went back and forth with this somber visa officer for several days, he finally relented and agreed to let me visit Pakistan—for one week. I felt humbled, honored, and excited. It was the week before elections in Pakistan. They weren’t letting foreigners, particularly writers, into the country. I felt special, like I had won a prize.
    I felt blessed.
    That evening, I went to a Jordanian supermarket and bought a shoe polishing kit. My black boots were dirty and dusty from all the walking I’d done. I stopped in the hotel lobby for a while, on my way to the room. It was the month of Ramadan in the Islam religion. For Muslims, that meant it was a holy fasting day—no smoking, food, beverages of any kind, or sex during daylight hours. I had tried to participate in the fast for just this one day—to honor the religion of this country and to see how it felt to participate. By lunchtime, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was starving and thirsty. I sneaked up to my room and wolfed down a bag of potato chips and gulped a bottle of mineral water.
    By now, the restaurant in the lobby was filled with an air of festive celebration. Once the sun went down, Muslims broke the day’s fast by engaging in a virtual feast. I didn’t feel festive. I felt guilty, remembering the potato chips and water. “I’m sorry,” I said, offering a simple heartfelt prayer up to the ceiling and hopefully straight on through it to God.
    What I heard and felt next I’ll remember for a long time. Perhaps it was the intense spiritual ambiance created by the fasting and prayers of most of the population of the country I was in, filling the air with words, thoughts, and devotion the way incense does with its scent. I don’t know if it had something to do with me, that altered state that happens to me when I’m scurrying about the world with my antenna up to see what I can see, hear, and find, protecting myself, and trying to discern where to go next. Or maybe it wasn’t about me at all. Maybe it was about God.
    But I swear I heard these words: You tried. That was good enough. It was a still, small voice—a gentle nurturing one—whispering to my heart. Then the strangest feeling washed over me, from my head down to my toes. It was gloriously blissful, loving, accepting, and cleansing at the same time.
    Oh, I said, remembering. So this is how God’s unconditional love and forgiveness feels.

Excerpted from Playing It by Heart: Taking Care of Yourself No Matter What by Melody Beattie, best-selling author of Codependent No More. In her many best-selling books, including Stop Being Mean to Yourself, Codependent No More, and The Language of Letting Go, Melody Beattie draws on the wisdom of Twelve Step healing, Christianity, and Eastern religions. She lives in Malibu, California.


Playing It by Heart
Taking Care of Yourself No Matter What

Softcover, 276 pages
Item: 8604

In her book Playing It by Heart, Beattie helps readers understand what drives them back into the grasp of controlling behavior and victimhood—and what it takes to pull themselves out, to return to the healing, faith, and maturity that come with a commitment to recovery.

Personal essays, inspiring anecdotes, and prescriptive reminders show readers how to stop acting out their painful obsessions. Marked by compassion and keen insight, Playing It by Heart explores the author’s most intense personal lessons and shows readers that, despite setbacks, recovery is a lifelong opportunity for spiritual growth.

List Price: $15.95
Online Price: $14.35

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