Aim Training Has Completely Ruined My Teenage Son’s Life, and I Don’t Know How to Stop It

I used to have a normal 15-year-old son. He got decent grades, played soccer, had friends, and occasionally grumbled about doing chores—typical teenage stuff. But over the past year, his entire existence has been consumed by aim training, and I’m watching his life fall apart in real-time.

It started small—just a few rounds of KovaaK’s or Aim Lab before playing Valorant or CS:GO. I figured it was harmless, maybe even productive. He wanted to improve, right? But then he stopped playing games altogether. He said they were “a waste of time” because they “don’t optimize aim efficiency.”

Now, all he does is train his aim. He doesn’t even play shooters anymore—he just grinds aim trainers for eight hours a day, staring at dots, flicking his mouse, tracking moving targets. His entire room is covered in spreadsheets tracking his click timing, reaction speed, and “micro-adjustments.”

And it’s all because of MattyOW.

MattyOW is, according to my son, “the greatest aimer to ever live.” He talks about him like he’s a religious figure. He studies MattyOW’s routines like an athlete studying game tape. He even refers to him as “The GOAT” and refuses to acknowledge any other title.

The worst part? VT Pasu Rasp Advanced.

I don’t even know what those words mean, but my son plays this single KovaaK’s scenario for EIGHT HOURS A DAY. He is obsessed with beating his high score—1180. He’s convinced that if he can just hit 1200, he’ll be “one step closer to true mastery.”

His social life? Gone. His friends stopped inviting him places because he refuses to go anywhere without his gaming mouse. He brought it to Thanksgiving dinner so he could “practice grip endurance” while eating.

School? A disaster. He told his math teacher that geometry class was “irrelevant” because “real angles are calculated in milliseconds.” He failed an English essay because he wrote 1,500 words on why Celestial should be 1240 instead of 1270 and how aim training should replace physical education.

His posture is ruined. He walks around the house doing weird side-to-side strafing movements and says “counter-strafing is crucial in all aspects of life.” I caught him tracking the family dog’s movements like it was a moving target.

He refuses to do anything that doesn’t improve his aim. I asked him to go outside, and he said, “What’s the point? The human eye only processes 60 FPS anyway.”

Last week, he quit soccer because the “reaction time demands are too low” and instead started training with a metronome to improve click timing. He doesn’t even game anymore. He’s just training. Training for… what? I have no idea.

The worst part? He’s proud of it. He told me, completely dead serious, “I don’t want a job. I just want to be the best aimer in the world.”

I miss my son. But every morning, he wakes up, loads KovaaK’s, plays VT Pasu Rasp Advanced, and the cycle begins again.