"Video game addiction isn't real" and "porn addiction isn't real" takes miss the point. There's a real phenomenon, and it has little to do with video games or porn in particular.
We need a new concept and a new word for it: how about "escape addiction"?
We need a new concept and a new word for it: how about "escape addiction"?
The key feature of escape addiction is that it's an attempt to escape something, which means where it's escaping *to* is less relevant for understanding it than what it's escaping *from*.
If you take away the games or the porn or w/e you'll just find a new escape.
If you take away the games or the porn or w/e you'll just find a new escape.
In grad school I was trying to escape from feelings of grief and shame and worthlessness and loneliness, and I escaped into: anime (live-action TV was unbearable), manga, video games, porn (mostly hentai for similar reasons as the anime), sci-fi, fantasy, math (really!)...
The anime, manga, and hentai were because I mostly could not stand to look at real people with real faces. Cartoon people with cartoon faces were infinitely safer and more soothing. The sci-fi and fantasy were arguably similar; safety in the unreal.
And when I say "video games" I want to be clear that I don't mean anything multiplayer or skill-based, I mean easy single-player RPGs like Pokemon, I mean I poured hundreds of hours into this: 
I mostly was not doing any of these things to enjoy them; it was painfully clear that I was doing it to avoid being alone with myself for even one second.
One of the main ways I could tell is that they were all substitutable: I'd get bored with anime and switch to games, etc.
One of the main ways I could tell is that they were all substitutable: I'd get bored with anime and switch to games, etc.
I've heard stories from three different sources recently about people who quit [substance] and subsequently started doing something else to fill the void, e.g. overeating. Not to downplay physical addiction to substances, but worth looking for escape components still.
Focusing on what you're escaping / addicted *to* is actually part of the escape; if your story is "I'm addicted to the internet" or w/e then you've successfully avoided having to think about e.g. school, your job, your relationship(s)...
In the beginning of 2018 I went through an emotional shift I still don't understand, and one of the craziest effects of that shift is that I (temporarily) stopped being interested in *all* of my previous escapes: I simply did not want any more anime, manga, video games, etc.
The reason I stopped wanting to escape is that the feelings I had been escaping from (temporarily) disappeared. I will never forget what this felt like. A weight lifted. I felt capable of doing anything. Like quitting grad school, which I finally did after years of misery.
Now, having said all that, to be clear: none of the point of this is to make anyone feel shamed for escaping. Sometimes escaping is all you can do; it was all I could do for years. You take care of yourself however you can.
And, I want to gesture towards the next step.
And, I want to gesture towards the next step.
I didn't get out by myself; I was lucky enough to be helped by a ton of amazing people, who taught me things I didn't know I needed. I cannot possibly summarize what did it in a tweet, but if I had to try:
Learn to stay with it. The feeling you're avoiding. Slowly and gently.
Learn to stay with it. The feeling you're avoiding. Slowly and gently.
See also:
If you're tired of all this individual psychologizing and crave something more societal / systematic in scope: it's worth pondering how much of the modern economy is actively about taking advantage of escape addictions, feeding them, making them worse, creating new escapes...
and, of course, the inevitable trauma connection:
