We Are Miracles
Today I begin another day in recovery! My last bet was September 20, 2007.
I was in a motor vehicle accident on September 21, 2007. I was airlifted to University Hospital for evaluation of head and neck injuries. From the moment the vehicle made impact, I began to cry. As I look at it now, the crying was not from the pain of my injuries but from the pain of my addiction to gambling. I cried for several hours—sobbed actually. When I saw my husband and daughter, the first thing I said to them was, “I need to get help with my addiction.”
I had tried to commit suicide on two previous occasions and wanted to end my life. And on this day, when a dog ran out in front of me and put my car into a guardrail and down a 20-foot embankment, I did not want to die. I wanted to live! But in order to live, I needed to get into recovery from this addiction.
That set forth a series of events for which I am forever grateful. My husband contacted two of his closest aunts, and we made a phone call to the local GA Hotline. That night was both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. I was no longer going to be alone in this terrible fight!
I have been gambling since I was a child. My family is large. My mother’s family had nineteen children—my immediate family nine. At every event growing up, there was card playing and games of chance. Most of the time in my youth, I was a bystander—watching, wanting to play, to be a part of the “adult group.” As I got older, I would play cards at family events; and when I turned twenty-one, my family made their first trip to Atlantic City. I had never played a slot machine before; but, let me tell you, I couldn’t stop! None of us on that bus had been before, and the “game” bit us! I made several trips every year from then on, and then…..the Indians opened high stakes bingo and eventually a casino nearby.
My addiction grew. I would play for hours with no regard for life or family. I missed recitals, sporting events, family “get togethers,” and just everyday life with my family. I had become a compulsive liar with my addiction. It didn’t matter what I was talking about! I had to embellish it with a “little white lie.” Over time, those “little white lies” became reality in my mental state. Most of the time, I was living in a very dysfunctional mental state. I was constantly thinking about when I could gamble, how I could gamble, and gambling in general. Gambling to me wasn’t just the physical playing of games of chance. I took a chance—gambled—with life decisions also. I threw away accomplishments that I had achieved. I did not feel I was worthy of any type of good fortune.
I would never have been able to recognize all of this without Gamblers Anonymous and my recovery journey. I believe that I am a miracle—along with every other member of Gamblers Anonymous. We are meant to walk the path that we walk, and we are meant to become better and stronger because of where we were and where we have come. Each of us in the Program has had sad and complicated stories in our past. Let’s make today—and every day—a very happy and simple story—one that is filled with waking each day, reciting and feeling our Serenity Prayer, not taking that first bet, not lying, working hard, appreciating the miracles that are around us—our “blood” family, our recovery family, and any person in need of a friend through Gamblers Anonymous. I want to be—need to be—of service and able to recognize the miracles ahead of me—those yet to come. I am not cured. I am in recovery. I am working my 12 Steps. Each step is painful—yet a miracle. They are allowing me to live again and to be thankful that I am alive. I am finally a mom, a spouse, a sister, an aunt, a co-worker, and a friend. For this I owe my life to Gamblers Anonymous and to every member who is in recovery! We truly are all miracles!
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
–Tina S., Watertown, NY Gamblers Anonymous