Thursday, July 27, 2017

Just One More Time


'The danger is in coming to love the prison.' 
- C.S. Lewis

I have a love-hate relationship with Hearthstone.

For the uninitiated, Hearthstone is a digital card game set in one of video gaming’s most colorful fantasy universes. The concept is one-on-one matches fought against real people via the miracle of the internet. It’s way more competitive than anything else I play.




And it’s a blast. You choose from one of nine different hero classes, each with their own unique cards and strategies. The Warlock utilizes a playing-with-hellfire approach, dealing in demonic forces that injure both you and your opponent. The Priest uses light magic to heal and strengthen your allies, even bringing them back from the dead. Others may favor the Warrior’s aggression, the Druid’s rapid growth, and so on.

The game doesn’t stagnate either. New expansions are continually released, adding everything from dinosaurs to gang warfare to Lovecraftian Old Gods. There’s always something new.

Sometimes I think Hearthstone is a bad influence on me. Being portable, it’s tempting to jump into a match whenever you have ten minutes to spare. But matches play out in real time, and cannot be paused.  If you’re interrupted, you’ll be forced to forfeit. Stick it out and you’ll often be defeated anyway. That’s just how the game works. There is always a winner and a loser.

And losing sucks.1

When I’m on a winning streak, I’m on top of the world. On a losing streak, I feel like throwing my phone against the wall. I get fed up, think that this time I’m never coming back, and uninstall.

But I do come back sooner or later, lured by new cards, stories and gameplay. Because it’s fun. I keep chasing the high, ignoring how it feels to crash.

Today I’m talking about addiction.

No, I’m not addicted to the game. Really. It’s addictive; there’s a fine line there and I haven’t quite crossed it. But it makes a good example. This is how addictions start. You begin with something pleasurable that becomes an obsession. Then a compulsion. The repercussions pile up, but you keep doing it. You can’t stop. You’re always chasing the high, even though the high is slowly ruining your life.

Addictions come in two different flavors. Substance addiction involves an actual drug or medication. Think cocaine, nicotine, alcohol. Behavioral addiction is dependence on a rewarding behavior. Sex, pornography, gambling, shopping, overeating, the internet, and, yes, video games. They sound different, but function the same way. Basically anything enjoyable can become all-consuming for the wrong person.

But why? What causes an addiction to develop?

All in Your Head

The number one factor in becoming addicted to something is whether or not you enjoy it.

I’ve mentioned before that I don’t really like drinking. It’s fun with the right company. Taken too far, though, my emotions spiral out of control. I get depressed. For me, getting drunk isn’t much of a high. I doubt I’m at risk of becoming an alcoholic. For people who love drinking, it’s a different story.

Whereas I do love video games2. Always have, ever since I was a kid. So yeah, I admit it. I’m at risk for those.

But here’s something counterintuitive: what you’re addicted to doesn’t always matter. What’s more important is that it fills a void.

The second factor is the inner emptiness.

I daresay we’ve all felt this at some time or another. The sense of being hollow, incomplete. Maybe you feel like you’re not smart enough, not popular, not successful. Maybe you’re lonely. Maybe you feel trapped in a life you never wanted. Whatever it is, you just want to forget for a while. So you find something that makes you feel better.

That’s how it starts.

Addictions aren’t just about the pursuit of pleasure. They’re also about escaping reality, running from problems instead of facing them. That never works. But we do it anyway. To treat an addiction, the underlying issues must also be addressed. Otherwise you end up right back where you started, chasing a high. If not the same high, then a different one.

But what’s really going on inside your head?

Your Brain on Everything

So here’s the deal. Our brains, efficient neural networks which they are, treat all pleasures the same way: by releasing a neurotransmitter called dopamine. The likelihood of any substance or behavior becoming addictive is directly linked to the speed, strength and reliability of that release. Whatever gives you a stronger, faster and more consistent high carries the greater risk.3




In nature, pleasure is tied to activities humans as a species need to survive. Say, eating, exercise and procreation: a filling meal, being fit enough to hunt down the next meal, finally getting that hot cavewoman. Our brains grant us pleasure as a reward. The actions we took to obtain the reward are then reinforced through memory and learning. Patterns are established, making us better equipped for our own survival.

Animal training works the same way. Using the lure of a reward – food, in this case – your faithful cat, dog or parrot learns a series of behaviors which gain them the reward. Eventually, through repetition, these behaviors become second nature.

This is what I do all day. I know what I’m talking about.

Addictive substances and behaviors are dangerous because they hijack the system, providing pleasure without the effort. Those substances and behaviors are reinforced as the quickest and most potent way to get the reward. Over time, the flood of dopamine overloads the brain’s reward circuitry, which produces less and less dopamine as a result. This is how tolerance develops. The addict now needs even more stimulation for an ever-decreasing high.

The brain can recover over time. But recovery means resisting not just the addiction, but also the cues that trigger it.

Changing Scenery

Back in the 1970s, the US government made an alarming discovery: a good 15% of American soldiers in Vietnam were addicted to heroin. Thus began the aptly named Operation Golden Flow. Soldiers had to pass a urine test before they were allowed on a plane home. Those who failed were stranded in Vietnam until a successful detox. Expectations were low. This was heroin, after all. One of the most addictive drugs around.

For those who passed, however, the recovery rate was startlingly high. 95% of former addicts gave up the drug and reintegrated into American society. They didn’t suffer through endless cycles of relapse and withdrawal. They didn’t need further therapy. They just stopped.  

It didn’t make sense. The prevailing wisdom of the time was that breaking an addiction was all about mental fortitude, the right mindset, the willpower to resist the urges. The focus was on the addicts themselves.

So why were soldiers in Vietnam so easily shaking off their addictions back in the States?

The environment had something to do with it.

In this context, our environment refers to our surroundings. The places, feelings and circumstances we deal with daily form the cues which trigger our addictions. Lying alone in bed at night. Feeling tired after work. Seeing an ashtray, a deck of cards, a computer. For an addict, once-harmless scenarios become stepping stones on their brain’s warped pathway to pleasure.

That’s the key. The veterans were cut off from their cues. This is the logic behind checking into rehab: removing yourself not just from the addictive substance or behavior, but also from the circumstances which lead to it.

All this is oversimplifying a complex problem. Addictions are a cocktail of genetic, psychological, biological and environmental factors. We’ve seen how they can be a coping mechanism, a brain disease, a behavioral disorder.

One thing’s for certain. Addictions are dangerous. You pretend you can stop any time you want to. But you never do.

Instead you’re always tired, your immune system is shot and you have no self-confidence because you’re at home jerking off to porn every night. Or your life becomes a haze of hangovers and blackout drinking, while your relationships crumble around you. Or you smoke three packs a week for twenty years, until one day you find out you’re dying of cancer.

Addictions rob you of the life you could have had. That’s something you can never get back.

Whatever your high is, make sure you know when enough is enough. Know when it’s time to stop. And be willing to reach out for help if you can’t.

Maybe I should give up on Hearthstone. Better sticking to RPGs. But it’s still really fun. And Death Knights look awesome.

Maybe just one more game. 


1 Sounds kind of like gambling, doesn’t it.

I should probably explain the difference between Ranked and Casual Play. Ranked is where the competition intensifies. Winning increases your rank and nets you greater rewards, while losing lowers it. Playing Casual, meanwhile, has less rewards, but losing only costs you your pride. Staying out of Ranked Play is probably best for players wanting to keep things fun and lighthearted.

2 Among other things. 

3 For a more in-depth look at how addictions alter our brain chemistry, have a look at HelpGuide.org.

4 Also check out this excellent TED talk for a wider view of the environment’s role, and addiction in general as a form of false bonding.