Journey of a Casino Gambler
“Oh, my God! I’m driving into the parking lot.”
“Oh, no, I’m walking into the casino. I’ll just walk in and look around. I won’t gamble!”
All these things were said out loud to myself as I relapsed.
This is what happened to me—or rather the choice I made—after my 9th anniversary of abstinence and recovery from gambling. I was having the relapse, and it was a doozy! I gambled from April 10 until my last bet on September 14, 2006. This was the longest I had ever gambled in my life. My history is that of an intermittent gambler. The longest I’d ever gambled at one time was 90 days.
How could this be? How could I be in the Fellowship for so long, never having had a relapse, committed to recovery, proud of my April Fool’s 1997 date—and yet back to the addiction?
The downward spiral back to gambling began as I made plans to move from New York to California. My wishful thinking began then. I’d been a real estate broker for twenty-six years and was certain I would take the Palm Springs, California real estate market by storm. (This I led myself to believe even though I knew that when you enter a new market it takes from three to five years to build a strong business foundation!)
The dream began with finding out that the average sales price in Palm Springs was four times the average in Buffalo, NY. Convinced that my skills, knowledge of the industry, experience, and work ethic would see me through a stellar career, I embarked on a 3,000-mile change of everything I’d known for the last twenty-seven years. Although my finances were tight, I’d “just do it” and use my obsessive/compulsive nature to work and live the life of the dream world of the compulsive gambler that I am.
At the end of January, the move was made—and the work began. I found the schedule of area GA meetings. Actually, there’s a meeting every day. I started going to meetings the second week of February. I was struck by the lack of therapy given. The members spoke of their wives, their children, their week, and very little of gambling abstinence or recovery. In fact, most of the members had very little time away from gambling. (Very few had even a year.) I felt a void in the room—a lack of fellowship. I went to a second meeting—same thing—different faces! By the third meeting, I thought, “Who needs this? I’ve stayed away from my addiction for a very long time. I don’t need this!”
Herein lies the critical error of this compulsive gambler. Experience has shown me that any compulsive gambler who stops going to meetings (unless they are bedridden or dead) inevitably returns to the addiction.
My descent back to gambling Hell with the stress of finances, loss of faith and trust in myself, wanting too much too quickly, quitting the Fellowship by no longer attending meetings, no longer reading the combo book (Didn’t even know where it was!) which led to not incorporating the Steps in my daily affairs, and actually forgetting the Serenity Prayer was now complete. All of these tools had kept me straight and free from gambling, and I chose to live my life without my lifelines, which led to pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization—gambling!
After the first WOW of going into the casino, I decided to control my gambling using the usual self-deceptions and tricks. “I’ll only go for an hour here—two hours there.” “I’ll take only X amount of dollars.” Within the first week, I was gambling every single day. In time, the unaccounted hours missing, not answering my phone, and the natural progression of the attitudes and behaviors of this compulsive gambler came to the attention of my partner.
I was asked, “Are you gambling?” I, of course, lied. The following morning, I came clean and told her the truth. Her response was that she was concerned and that if I wanted to gamble, I need not lie about it. If fact, I could go with her; and it would be alright. Now—you know after having nine years in GA, I knew better. I know that the only one who needs to know and understand this addiction is me—and that I can call on my Fellowship for help. But I allowed the addiction to control me and was relieved and said, “Yes, that would be helpful.”
Relapse meant going right back to where I left off—gambling to all hours, past my last dollar, having days where thousands of dollars slipped right back to the machines, not being able to leave until nothing was left, not eating or going to the bathroom, unnoticed weight loss, denial, helplessness, desperation, and ultimately wanting to die.
The only thing I knew was that I had to go back to GA. It was the only way to save my life. The shame of telling the Fellowship that I had relapsed was so painful. But the excruciating pain of having to admit to my “New York crew” that “Ms. GA” had relapsed after so many years kept me from going to the meetings. I lacked the courage to face my own ego, and it hurt. (I still feel the pain as I write these words.)
Finally, in the last week of September, I went back to GA and admitted my wrongs. I would give the most painful therapy ending with sobs of, “But I’m not sure I’m ready to stop.” I was reminded of the 90 meetings in 90 days. By going to four or five meetings a week, I again learned abstinence ONE DAY AT A TIME.
At one meeting, a member who had relapsed a year before said, “No one can take away my years in GA. What I learned during them will always be with me.” This opened my mind to the possibility that my nine years in GA meant something—and that although I relapsed, nothing could take away that time and knowledge. At another meeting, a GA member said, “YCW—You can’t win!” That night I raced from the meeting to the casino—challenging in my mind what he had said. As I lost the last of any money I would have for a long time, I felt relieved and literally ran from the casino knowing in my heart I would not return—and I haven’t! I remembered a huge reason for attending meetings. It is that someone will say something that will have a significant impact on me; and if I’m not there, I’ll miss something very important.
The members’ genuine concern and encouragement gave me the courage to call my New York Fellowship and tell them of this relapse. The acceptance with kindness and encouragement—without a hint of disappointment, which was my greatest fear—was freeing. I am still deeply moved to tears with my whole being by their kindness and acceptance and experience—and the absolute POWER of this FELLOWSHIP.
I love my meetings. I love my GA brothers and sisters. I love my Gam-Anon brothers and sisters. I place my Higher Power at the helm. I practice to the best of my abilities the tools that are offered. I experience JOY every day!
As I write this, it has been 1 year and 128 days since my last bet; and I am humbled once again by the nature of this addiction and the power of the people in my Fellowship.
Gambling is the only thing in my life that has brought me to the point of wanting to die. As long as I continue not to place a bet ONE DAY AT A TIME, I LOVE WHOLLY AND DEEPLY, and feel a constant ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE toward anyone who has struggled or is struggling with this insidious disease called compulsive gambling, Recovery Road will be the road I will travel.
- Connie in California