Starting day 2.

Woke up feeling fine, then I remembered.

Shame. Disappointment in myself. Thinking about the things I could have bought for my children.

Lies.

This makes me an ugly person. This may already define the narrative of my life. I hope not. I hope I can change it.

Day 3.

My eyes are welled with tears reading these comments. Thank you…more than you know.

I’m so alone in my secret life of gambling. There’s literally no one (except you, the people posting on this forum) I can tell about this or they’ll lose all respect and hope for/in me.

I’m scared of myself. I’m scared for myself. More importantly, I’m scared for those who now depend on me being financially well, i.e., children and elderly parents.

I cannot believe I have done what I have done, yet, at the same time. I totally can.

The EXACT same triggers enabled me to to do this again. I even told myself, “Hey, this is a trigger, be careful”. Didn’t matter because I WANTED to. I wanted the escape.

Just one enormous problem, gambling is not an escape for me, it is a prison. An almost inescapable prison. I’m clinging as hard as I can to the ‘almost’. It’s all I have.

I’m not a spiritual or religious person, but I’ve been praying constantly. I need God’s strength. Without it, I don’t believe I’ll mentally make it.

Please God, give me just today. We’ll work on tomorrow when it comes.

I thought about the climber all day today.

Have I cried out for God before? I believe I have, yes. But what good does it do if I don’t join him in helping me?

What a profound and thought-provoking story.

Thank you also for the story of holding up the glass.

But better than both of these stories (lessons) is the story I learned about people today. You guys. Strangers reaching out to help because they know. You’ve been there (or are there now). You’re not leaving any man behind.

Thank you so much.

Day 4.

Woke up to emptiness. Suppose this is better than dread and sorrow.

Will make it through the day without betting. One day is easy enough after losing so recently.

What I have to worry about is months from now.

But not right now. I’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. Right now I’ll take this one day at a time.

Upside of day 4…starting to breathe again. Barely.

Seriously, the cost of gambling-loss-panic-stress-etc., is too high. I don’t want to live like this any more.

Just tonight, God. I’ll tackle tomorrow, tomorrow.

Day 6.

Went to a GA meeting yesterday. Been there before too. Half the people in the room knew me by name and greeted me warmly. I felt bad they they listened and earned their days of gambling sobriety and I didn’t.

Happy for them I suppose. Happy they were still there to go to. I didn’t speak. I just shook hands and said my hello’s to those who remembered me. I just felt the need to listen. I don’t think my thought processes are working properly at the moment.

Starting day 7.

I feel like God is in my corner. I’m finally realizing I can’t do it alone and it’s a relief to know he’s with me.

I went on date last night. It was the first one in 30 years. I was still very stressed about my gambling losses and my state of mind, but it went extremely well and told me she is looking forward to date #2.

That helped me to feel less of a bum.

Best part, I’m 46 and she’s 34. I never thought I’d see the day.

I have a suspicion my days are about to be occupied with more fulfilling endeavors than they have in the past. This would most definitely get me out of this funk I’m in with a healthier manner.

I plead with you again, God, to take my hand once again and help me tbrough today.

Hmm…not feeling any better, really. But what do feelings have to do with anything? I appreciate the encouragement, Vera, Izbeth. What would we do if we didn’t have each other?…Go crazy I suppose. Literally. Like, I’m totally not just saying this.

Well, crazy isn’t an option for me. My children can’t afford that. So, I put on the gloves and fight.

I fight to continue recovering…always. Never letting up because I have a demon inside of me. A monster part of my psyche that wants me to succumb to nothingness. The monster is me, unfortunately.

I also have the good me. The side that wants me to be good to myself for myself and those who love, need and care for me. This part of me is going to be nurtured now more than ever. That’s the plan, anyway.

Been to two GA meetings now and I can honestly say that I can’t stand being there for even a second, but I must be there. It’s where my butt needs to be sitting.

Will I get better with time? I hope so. I have before and I can again. Today…no. Tomorrow…hopefully.

God, give me today please. We’ll tackle tomorrow, tomorrow.

What’s important. That’s what I’m focusing on today.

I’ve been thinking this way for a while now, only (primarily, of course, there are other…insignificant issues (in comparison)) gambling has interfered with this endeavor.

Why would I challenge what I know is good for me by confronting what I have already witnessed…countless times, defeat me? I don’t know..or do I?

This problem that I have is deeper than mere gambling itself., but gambling will ensure that I can’t continue with any personal progression. Any. I’m defeated before I begin.

God, thank you for today. Please give me the strength to continue walking with you tomorrow.

Looks like it’s day 19.

I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t post. Finally realized I had to log on..duh.

Amazing what a few weeks feels like under your belt. Not necessarily (or at all..in my case) financially, but personally.

I’ve had amazing things happen since I screwed up (gambling binge). Things have been positively opposite of what I’d have predicted. Life is going to be OK.

I’ll remain OK if I remember where I was and I remind myself that God has my back.

Don’t gamble. Pretty simple.

Not gambling. Not so simple.

Just typing here makes my shoulders tingle and my breathing and heart rate accelerate. Proof to me that I’m not better nor will I ever be “better”. I have a sickness that needs treatment constantly and continually.

One Month.

31 days.

My level of comfort is better. I have more confidence in myself. I don’t feel nearly the same level of shame and regret…hopelessness.

I give all the credit to God and will continue allowing Him to carry me when I can’t hold my own weight. I’m not a religious person or have that much faith, but I do believe a power stronger than my own lifted me out of the hole. So, I will continue to give thanks and try to be more receptive to this gift, as I know I am incapable of doing this alone.

Thanks for the support, Pea!

I just have to keep reminding myself that time is my enemy as well as my friend. Every day further away from my last bet is another day closer to my next one. UNLESS I remember where I’ve been and where I want to be.

You are of course right, Vera.

Time is far more a friend than enemy. The proof of this is overwhelming. What I’m saying it is also gives one time to forget just how miserable the last bet felt.

It reminds me of my divorce, of which I went through a little over a year and a half ago (after 25 years of marriage – 4 children, 2 still under the age of 11). My ex-wife and I slept in separate bedrooms. We fought constantly about what a bad person she was convinced I was and I was convinced I wasn’t. She insisted I take (and I did) anti-depressants then eventually anti-PSYCHOTICS (stopped taking those in a hurry – if you want to feel real “crazy”, take those). Then she checked-out. Had an affair and finally showed her true colors.

When we divorced it was one of the most relieving days of my life. I left my over-sized, beautiful, comfortable home with a bed, my clothes and a television. Nothing else. Didn’t matter, I was glad it was finally over.

Fast forward to today…I miss a lot of things about my marriage. Time has robbed me of the reality of what it was. I have forgotten most of what drove me (and her) away. Time has enabled me to feel sad….regret, even.

You see, time works in my (our?) favor for both the short-term and long-term. Addiction, painful experiences, etc. cannot be addressed and defeated without time. However, as time passes I somewhat forget the pain and motivation that drove me to begin recovering in the first place.

This is my point. Time is an enabler if I allow it to be. Forgetting the feelings of absolute shame and regret can come back to haunt me with “it’s only a $100 bet, if I lose it, big deal”, kind of thinking. I cannot forget. I cannot allow time to dissolve what was and will always be: I’m a compulsive gambler.

I have to remember:

– When I gamble I financially harm those I love
– When I gamble, I lose who I am and don’t have the right mental capacity to properly love and care for those I love.
– When I gamble I lose myself to my addiction. I am no longer myself, but a shell of myself.
– When I gamble I take chances in my personal life that could end up costing me even more than money.
– When I gamble I want to be dead. Suicide is not out of the question, whether deliberately or accidentally.

Time is my friend, yes, no question. My addiction, however, uses time – thrives on it – wants me to forget what led me to recovery.

With this said, I feel that good news is happening for me now and my addiction better keep it’s head down and stay behind cover, because this time around, God is aiming a high caliber weapon loaded with hollow points ready to pull the trigger at first glimpse. I believe this because He’s shown me that it’s not my time to give up on myself yet. There’s a reason I must keep pushing forward.

I can’t quit.

I want to. I try to….and then I go back.

I wish I could go back and tell myself what was going to happen in my future if I didn’t quit. The lies I would tell…major f’n whoppers!!! OMG…the degenerate scum I would become. The things my children could have but don’t. The people I would borrow money from and not be able to pay back…including family members…especially my adult children.

I could have had it all. Instead I’m faced with having nothing. Why? Why do I do it? It makes no sense. I’ll go months without a bet and then lose enough money to buy whatever I need. Climb back up, then fall back down. I don’t know if I’ll recover from this last outing. It may have done me under financially.

I’m super glad for this forum, because if I wasn’t able to read some of the posts, I’d sincerely believe on a remote island of self-loathing and have no soul. Or is it that none of us do? That we’re merely patting ourselves on the back when we should condemn each other for our selfishness? I hope it’s the former. That there is hope, because if I ever needed it, it’s right now.

I have no more bridges left to burn. It’s put up or shut up. Hell has enveloped my thoughts and is slowly but surely becoming my reality.

If I look back years from now at this post and I am still gambling, I’d wish death upon myself. No joke.

My life is void of worth. I could care less about myself.

What I want to remember if I ever have the wisdom to read this when I have that oh-so-good feeling about “winning some of my money back”, is that I made two of the most important people in my life cry today. They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t cry because I gambled, they cried because of the financial hardship I put them in. They don’t know I gambled the money away because I lied. A big, giant lie.

I’m a liar and I hurt those I love. Gambling has been a very destructive force in my life. It has been a vessel by which I have sold my soul, taken away the security of others and this means of providing for my children like I should and could have.

I don’t cry for myself. I gave up the emotional sobering of gamble losses long ago. Hell, I don’t even like myself any more. If I continue to **** up, I will never be able to raise my children normally as my mind will always be elsewhere.

Day 1. Again. Current asshole to future self…DON’T!!!

Thanks, Charles, it’s good to know I’m not alone in feeling this much disdain for myself. That you also did at one time.

Safeguards is almost impossible for me. I’m self employed in the retail business. I handle the cash. All of it. I simply have to resist.

It’s the same every time. I go 1-6 months…years even. Then I tell myself a small bet won’t hurt. Broken record.

I hope with every fiber of my being this is the last time. I really lied on this one and I’m afraid I have to continue to lie. I could easily be exposed. Easily. I’m surprised anyone I told even bought that BS. So, so ashamed of myself. The mountain I have to climb…the mountain I created…isn’t going to be easy overcome, if at all. I thought all the other losses were bad. This last outing took a part of my soul, my very being, that I don’t think I could survive another.

I simply have to let the past losses go. I will never get them back. I’d be a fool to think otherwise. I’ve proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt. I have no control over myself when it comes to gambling. Not at all.

I truly don’t understand my thinking when I’m in “chase” mode. It’s like it’s me, but it isn’t. I’m scared of myself. Completely, entirely petrified.

I will continue to post as I have no other person/people in this entire world that would not disown me if I shared any of this. I appreciate the board being available.

Charles, if you don’t mind me asking, do you think you’ll ever go back to gambling? If not, how did you get to where you are and how do you maintain this? How does time affect your desire to gamble?

Day 4.

I have been reading some of the other journals here. I guess we’re not alone. We share this…frightening dilemma; this part of us we have to restrain. Some of the posts I read could have been written by myself. What a frightening addiction. Truly heart-wrenching…but also posts of newfound faith and determination. I truly wish to be on the latter party one day.

I’m going to do this, come hell or high water.

Never again. I will have to fight the toughest battle of my life, against my self…my urges and unhealthy thought processes. But I see that others have succeeded, so I can do the same.

I’m not going to let gambling destruction into my world ever again. The thought of gambling currently repulses me…please stay with me…this combination of hope and fear.

Very depressed. Lots of regret, remorse.

I made a mess that you only I can clean up. This can only be achieved by not gambling. I just wish I felt more optimistic. Comes and goes…optimism, fear, hope, regret. Like waves.
Every emotion is tainted with underlying sorrow though.

One step at a time, I suppose.

Kind words from people who have nothing to gain from helping me…thank you. It makes me feel a little less lonely at this time when I have never felt more alone.

I’ve been reading stories about people who have lost grocery money. Weren’t able to eat because of gambling. Makes my heart ache. This problem is so bad for us.

I’m around people all day. My children (on my custody days) customers, employees, my good friend, people I know at the gym I frequent, my girlfriend, family…all know that something is not right with me. I tell them I’m fine, but they know better. I can’t tell a single soul why I’m whereI’m at. So alone. It’s hard to go to bed and it’s hard to wake up. Concentrating is very difficult. Planning…forget about it. I’m lucky if I accomplish what I have to.

I’m lucky enough to have have food. I’m in the grocery business. Still don’t eat though. My appetites is nonexistent.

I can’t get past the “why” did I go out and gamble money I needed? I’m compulsive naturally. I didn’t need gambling on top of it.

I’ve been to GA. There’s absolutely no way I can complete the 12 steps. Impossible. Admitting what I’ve done? That would be like taking gasoline and a match to the remaining bridges I haven’t already burnt down.

Trying to stay positive for day 6. But failing miserably.

If I didn’t have 2 minor children, I would welcome death because I’m not sure I can come back. I’m not sure that I can redeem myself. I will try, however, since there simply is no other option.

It reminds me of that Cat Stevens song “trouble”. If I replace ‘trouble’ with ‘gambling’, it’s a perfect fit.

Gambling
Oh gambling can’t you see
You’re eating my heart away
And there’s nothing much left of me

Melodramatic? Maybe. I really don’t care. It’s exactly how I feel.

I don’t mean to depress anyone who is struggling to stay positive, but this is the end result of compulsive gambling. A broken soul.

Bring on day 7.

Vera, you’re an angel.

I’ve frequented this site for years, on and off. As Charles said, and he’s correct (in my experience), once a compulsive gambler, always a compulsive gambler.

You know this too. You’ve stuck around, willing to help others. This entire time. Who does this? Why? I know the answer you’ll respond with…because it helps you too. Okay. I’ll accept that. But there’s more to it. You’re a good person. I believe most people are. Even compulsive gamblers.

I never meant to hurt anyone. I honestly didn’t. I wanted to help. I wanted the easy life for all of those I loved….just faster than working for it.

I actually believed I could make gambling part of my income. I always won. Almost always. Not in the end, of course. But those times, those ‘hot streaks’… I convinced myself I was “lucky”.

Wow. Where did it go…that lie to myself? I’ll tell you, straight through and back again. I focused on the wins. I like those. They’re fun, exhilarating. Such easy money!

In the end, all it cost me was my integrity, my family and possibly my life’s work.

But like Charles said, if he didn’t gamble, but didn’t change who he was, he’d just be an asshole who didn’t gamble.

Extremely profound and illuminating…insight. Vera, you exemplify precisely what he meant (as does he).

I read where 2-3 % of the population have what we do. What percentage of that percentage decides to help those in need, even though the reciticism rate is likely to be greater than most addictions? Very, very low, I’m sure.

At least for me, your decision to gamble and then stop…and spread the example of hope, mattered.

Thus, an angel. In the midst of torment.

Please, JT, include yourself. After all, correct or misled, the answer can only be found through searching…even grasping for it…at least I hope so. Because that’s what I’m doing, reaching out and hoping I find the answers, from within and without.

Your sentence resonated with me…the 1% of the time.

I’m in and out with gambling. I don’t stay all day. I can lose a year’s salary in 2 hours or less. I play fast, hard and for keeps. Just one little problem…the keeps. I never do. I can’t. I’m a compulsive gambler and enough is unachievable, because it’s never enough. Not the money or the high. My brain plays tricks. Tells me I’m being financially prudent..ah, no. I’m not.

Day 7. No problem. Day 8, we’ll see. Can’t imagine gambling tomorrow, but then again, last week I’d have said precisely the same thing

Barriers. Hmm. That’s a tricky one for me.

I live in Henderson, Nevada. Basically, Las Vegas. They adjoin. There’s plenty of casinos in Henderson as well. I can look out my window and see The Strip. I can walk two blocks and be at The Fiesta Casino.

The other problem, I’m in business for myself. A business that generates a lot of revenue but has a small profit margin. I cannot just let someone else take care of my money. Impossible, unfortunately.

So…how does a drunk retain their job as a bartender without drinking? Because that’s synonymous with my predicament.

First, I have to stop gambling. Without this, everything else is an effort in futility. Secondly, as was mentioned earlier, if I don’t change WHO I AM, I’ll merely continue to be an asshole, just one who doesn’t gamble. Which, quite frankly, will eventually lead to gambling. Again, at least for me.

2-3%. That’s the percentage of the population who are compulsive gamblers. Why me? Why not me? I’m nothing special except to those who love me and need me to be well…at least better than I am.

So, in summation…can’t move, can’t have someone else hold my money…so barriers? Yeah, I’m fucked there. I’ll tell you what I can do though. Wake up every day and appreciate that I don’t have to be a slave to my chains. They’ll shackle me. I’ll feel them. They can’t be ignored. I can’t break them and there is no key to unlock them. BUT, I can do this very minute what I can do a thousand…ten thousand minutes from now…change who I am. Stop being an all-consumed asshole. Stop trying to blame life for “not being fair”, and giving me everything I want, when I already have everything I need.

I’m a broke (financial) snob.

I’m a wealthy (loved) person who doesn’t appreciate it because of the above.

Barriers? Being built in my consciousness 24/7. If the building stops, I won’t be back. My life will have amounted to less than nothing. If there’s one thing about know about myself, it’s this…I will do anything for those I love. Anything. If this means changing myself…how I think…how I view life, that’s just how it’s going to have to be, because it’s not just about me. Thank God.

Barriers work, I just have to use the mortar available to me.

I dont want to be ultimately defined by failure..addiction. By the grace of God and a series of successive swings maybe…just maybe, I can at least score the tying run that gives the team I love the chance to not lose.

This is now up to me. My life to make it what I can. I just broke up with my girlfriend last night in order to focus on THIS. This matters more than anything in my life right now. I’m not surrendering to temptation, vices or the lies I tell myself any longer. The gig is up. Game over.

Barriers. Hmm. That’s a tricky one for me.

I live in Henderson, Nevada. Basically, Las Vegas. They adjoin. There’s plenty of casinos in Henderson as well. I can look out my window and see The Strip. I can walk two blocks and be at The Fiesta Casino.

The other problem, I’m in business for myself. A business that generates a lot of revenue but has a small profit margin. I cannot just let someone else take care of my money. Impossible, unfortunately.

So…how does a drunk retain their job as a bartender without drinking? Because that’s synonymous with my predicament.

First, I have to stop gambling. Without this, everything else is an effort in futility. Secondly, as was mentioned earlier, if I don’t change WHO I AM, I’ll merely continue to be an asshole, just one who doesn’t gamble. Which, quite frankly, will eventually lead to gambling. Again, at least for me.

2-3%. That’s the percentage of the population who are compulsive gamblers. Why me? Why not me? I’m nothing special except to those who love me and need me to be well…at least better than I am.

So, in summation…can’t move, can’t have someone else hold my money…so barriers? Yeah, I’m fucked there. I’ll tell you what I can do though. Wake up every day and appreciate that I don’t have to be a slave to my chains. They’ll shackle me. I’ll feel them. They can’t be ignored. I can’t break them and there is no key to unlock them. BUT, I can do this very minute what I can do a thousand…ten thousand minutes from now…change who I am. Stop being an all-consumed asshole. Stop trying to blame life for “not being fair”, and giving me everything I want, when I already have everything I need.

I’m a broke (financial) snob.

I’m a wealthy (loved) person who doesn’t appreciate it because of the above.

Barriers? Being built in my minute 24/7. Of the building stops, I won’t be back. My life will have amounted to less than nothing. If there’s one thing about I know it’s this…I will do anything for those I love. Anything. If this means changing myself…how I think…how I view life, that’s just how it’s going to have to be.

Barriers work, I just have to use the mortar available to me.

I dont want to be ultimately defined by failure..addiction. By the grace of God and one part swing, maybe I can st least score the tying run in my lord that gives the team I love the chance to not lose.

Day 8.

Feel slightly better, strangely. For a couple of reasons, I suppose. Hope this is a good thing.

#1 – I was forced to be honest with myself 8 days ago. I didn’t like my girlfriend. She was good for me, but there was no chemistry and she was pushing for a serious commitment way too fast. I’m not ready. I’m not well enough for commitment. Until I face some hard facts – at this point – I’d **** up a wet dream. I heard a joke once that may allow me some rationalization for my latest gambling loss (I’m being facetious, of course…but it’s better than being despondent, as I have been). Here it is:

What does “Yes, I’ll marry you” mean?

A price tag of $350 thousand dollars!

#2 …the most important one for me. I have fear for the future. Which means I have a future. If I didn’t have concerns about my future, it would equate to having passed the point of no return. I have worry. I have doubt. I have fear. These are healthy feelings to have from where I’m standing, considering what I have been doing. I don’t even deserve to have a 90th chance, yet…here I am. By the grace of God, spirituality, “luck”(I’ve grown to hate that word), the angel over my shoulder, the spaghetti monster…whatever! I financially lived to fight another day when I don’t deserve anything but contempt, having lost all material worth and self-lothing.

Yet, here I am. I may not be standing tall, but I’m standing.

Day 9. I fear you.

I give thanks for this fear.

All good advice.

I know everyone at the GA meetings. Been going, on and off, for years. I want to walk in this time with 30 days behind me. Embarrasment and shame, I suppose. That may sound silly, but it is just how I want to do it this time.

I have very little family left that trusts me. Those that do would no longer trust or even speak with me if I told them what I have been doing. Long story, it would definitely not be a wise choice for me.

Barriers. I’m can easily break those. Lines of credit, credit cards, debit cards, bank accounts, stocks…I can’t tell everyone I do business I’m a compulsive gambler. Any lines of credit I have would be at risk.

I just simply have to not gamble. The simplest, most difficult thing for me to do, I must. No choice.

I can stop. I know my triggers. I know that I can’t look at sports odds. Looking at those leads me making a bet that won’t cost me much money if I lose. This is what I tell myself. End of the story…every, single time…without exception…ever, is leaving the casino broke from playing blackjack. Broken record. Same deal.

I know what I have to do and that is not gamble.

So how? I have to change myself. Something about my desire for adventure. Not the healthy part, but the destructive part.

Gambling is not in control of me, unless I’m gambling.

Day 9. Done. Day 10, please be as kind.

For real, JT.

I’ve only lived here for 9 years. I’m 47 years old. Been gambling in casinos since I was 17. Drinking in them too. Nobody cared back then. Not as long as you acted like you belonged and had cash. I used to drive hours as well. Distance means nothing if I am determined to gamble.

And yes, the underbelly of Vegas can often times be an ugly sight. I’ve seen quite a few people who moved here for the job and left because of the gambling.

Day 10 was awful for me. No urges to gamble, just revulsion with myself. I’m trying to stay positive, but quite honestly it’s hard to focus on anything but negativity.

I suppose as long as I’m facing the right direction in the path and not moving backward, being stuck for the moment isn’t all bad. No relaxation…no inner peace…don’t expect that for a good while, but no further regression.

Well then. ..good. I suppose. If watching agony changes your future than that makes you knowledgeable and wiser. Hopefully.

I’m not offended. You can’t offend someone who not only hurts themselves, but more importantly, those who need Me for financial stability.

And thank you. It’s day 12 actually and I don’t have the slightest urge to gamble. It doesn’t alleviate the pain already inflicted, but it does prevent further regression.

Time. It’s a weird thing. Years pass in the blink of an eye, when content. When tormented, every minute is an eternity. However time stops for no man/woman.

Healing will happen. But the gambling sniper is there…waiting. Aiming. At all times.

Have to locate his position and avoid being in his line of sight.

12 days since I gambled.

Thinking clearer? Yes, a little bit more. Hope? Not so much. Self-confidence? Probably a little worse.

Confidence in not gambling on day 13? 100%

I have help. Here…and something else. Not sure what or who. I’d like to say God, but I’m not even sure I believe in God. But somthing is pushing me forward…to indirectly pursue onversations that have helped me move slightly forward.

My guard is up however. It will always have to be.

I can almost say that today, day 13, the fog somewhat lifted. Nothing major, but it’s like a bit of clarity entered my life.

I’m still pissed of that its 13 days and not 13 months or 13 years, but I suppose that’s part my compulsion, self gratification and endorphin release desire.

Have no desire to gamble. Absolutely none. I will be blessed beyond what I deserve if this resolve continues.

I must remind myself daily what I’m capable of; how my mind will play tricks. Sad, but I can never trust myself with gambling. It’s like being in love with an unfaithful partner who I have no choice but to stay with. Because they are me.

This sucks. But I’ll keep trucking because saying yes to gambling is akin to pissing away what remains of my life and those who need and desire for me to be well.

Day 14, I won’t gamble. But will I learn what living is about?

I Hope so. Not just for me.

Appreciate the support, Johnny.

I really helps to know I’m not alone in this addicton.

Day 17.

Someone I know said something the other day o have been pondering. They said “I may have problems, I may have done things that assholes do, but I’m not an asshole”.

As long as don’t gamble, I can… bit by bit…apply this to myself; lose the self-loathing.

There’s still time.

Day 20.

Urges to gamble? No. Urges to win my money back? Not really.

Will this continue? I sincerely hope so.

Someone wise once told me…when walking through Hell, don’t stop to rest, keep moving.

Move I shall. I’m better than me.

Day 25.

Have I progressed? Am I making the necessary changes in my life to not only eliminate gambling but improve my reality in ways that will alleviate urges to gamble in the future and improve my life, thereby improving the lives of those I love and care about?

I believe I am getting closer. Even if these last 25 days have only allowed me an inch on a journey of a million miles, I’ll take it.

I want this. I need this. I’ll take anything that doesn’t include going back “there”…the literal Hell that is gambling (for me, at least).

If my descriptors of what the spiraling into gambling hell offers, than at least it amounted to more than less than nothing.

But that depends on you, I suppose. I’m merely an expert at deception and lying. Making my loved ones, both little and old, stress unnecessarily because of my compulsion. Absolute, total…beyond a shadow of a doubt, compulsion.

Maddening.

Did you know the #1 addiction that leads to suicide is gambling? I do. I’ve known it for far too long. Yet.. I go back for more.

I cried maybe 3 times after my 24 year marriage ended. Only one time was severe. I’ve had crying episodes far, far worse from gambling. Not sure why, but I suppose it’s because I landed. I lost everything…I’m not talking about money or relationships here…I’m talking about losing my ability to control my mind, thus my actions.

I’m afraid of me more than I am afraid of death.

But I’ll continue on. My journey isn’t over because it isn’t.

My fight continues because that’s just the way it is.

I’ll win the fight because I have to. There can only be one winner and gratefully, it’ll be me. Because either way it goes down…whoever, in the end is declared the winner, his name will be my own.

Because I’m fighting myself.

Win or lose, I’ll be holding the trophy

Day 26

Better? Of course. Fixed and everything is nice and makes sense…not by a long shot. Do I feel more financially confident? Totally. 100%? Nope. I have an compulsion to gamble it all away. But only when I do. I’m not a robot. I’m not programmmed by a programmer. Check that… I do have a programmer…myself.

How do I program myself differently than I have in the past. Not sure. But by not gambling I may find out what input I’ve imputed into myself, allowing the clarity to see how I’ve been faulty in my thinking.

Hopefully .

It is what it is, but without me working on myself, nothing will change. I want change. Desperately.

“Don’t go silently into that good night”. But with a caviet, for myself.. also don’t go wildly. Don’t follow my in inclinations, make them follow.

Day 26

Better? Of course. Fixed and everything is nice and makes sense…not by a long shot. Do I feel more financially confident? Totally. 100%? Nope. I have an compulsion to gamble it all away. But only when I do. I’m not a robot. I’m not programmmed by a programmer. Check that… I do have a programmer…myself.

How do I program myself differently than I have in the past. Not sure. But by not gambling I may find out what input I’ve imputed into myself, allowing the clarity to see how I’ve been faulty in my thinking.

Hopefully .

It is what it is, but without me working on myself, nothing will change. I want change. Desperately.

“Don’t go silently into that good night”. But with a caviet, for myself.. also don’t go wildly. Don’t follow my in inclinations, make them follow.

Day 30.

Supposed to be a big day. Yeah, ok. I’ll take it.

Don’t want claps or cheers or a rediculous month chip from GA. I just don’t.

What I want is more. More time behind me. I want to forget and I know the way forgetting works…it is a roller coaster. I bought a ticket for this ride and I’m not getting off. Never again.

My life will simply have to be what it was supposed to be if I hadn’t/don’t gamble. If it’s not perfect, fine. If a meteor hits the Earth, if the absolute worst that I can imagine happens, at least o wasn’t the reason for it…maybe. If my losses cause any more pain…particularly serious, then yes, I’ll never recover. But if tough things happen..as they do in life…that has nothing to do with my gambling…I’ll survive it, because I’ve dealt pain. I’ve provided pain, vacillated it.

I don’t want to regret any more. I want to experience what I’m supposed to. What I was made for.

One day at a time? Sure. Fine. I’m going for a lifetime at a time, because otherwise I’ll succumb. No days. No 30 day chips. No year celebrations…for me they’re crutches…more than that, they leave the door open.

My door is closed. Locked. Bolted. Backed with dynamite.

I have no doubts and I know why. I see who I am and I don’t like it. I want more. I want life. Addiction can take a leap.

Beginning to understand the term “coming to terms with guilt”.

I don’t view this as a bad thing or a trigger. I recognize it for what it is.

I have made mistakes that I can’t rectify or fix, right now. Today. But if I continue on this path, the past will become just that and I can move on with the ‘now’.

So yes. Time in recovery does matter for me. So much more than I realize.

I have this stupid t-shirt. Plain, cheap got a design of a basketball player that rubs down one side. Not sure why I bought it. I guess I need shirts.

I was going to throw it away since that was the shirt I wore during my last rendezvous with my devil. I decided to keep it. It’s nowhere special in my closet. I don’t predominately display it. But I do see it every day. I want to see it. I don’t wNt to lose the memory of anything any more.

Time. Does away from gambling. Does it matter? Of course.

Seems like it anyway. Only one way to find out for sure.

Day 35

“Life. Doesn’t it go by in a blink?”

38 days.

Feels like only yesterday I was lying my ass off.

Good.

Never let yourself forget it, Dan. Never. Everything and everyone in your life depends on it.

You could have had your life back. All of it. Instead, you chose to allow your compulsion to own you. Again.

No more gambling means no more regrets from gambling.

So simple. So not. Take control. Be the man you are capable of being. As you are doing right now.

When going through Hell, don’t stop and rest. Gambling will always be my Hell. No stopping.

Thanks, Jonny. You can call me Dan, that’s my name (wink…lol).

I made it to 43 days. I know this because my last time losing my worth to a casino was Valentines Day and yesterday was my birthday (which I could care less about).

The days pass. Time moves on. Does it help? Yes, it does.

Since the wise man makes money off interest and the foolish man pays, why should “time” matter?

Because it’s not about money. It is, and it isn’t. Money matters (obviously…pretty useful when it comes to paying for things), but what is the point of having small the money in the world if I don’t have control over myself. If that were the case, having all would equate to less than what I’ve experienced.

Degrees of loss. I have lost as much as I can afford. But I can offer more. So I digress. I can afford more, but I won’t.

I have lost. I will lose more, if I continue.

Enough. I’ve had my fill.