[danchaser]

I so wish I was in your abstinent shoes.
I’ll tell you something, even though I’ve failed multiple ***** at quitting, I can attest to having learned something new and useful each time.  This time I recognize a complacency trigger and also – and possibly even more important – I’ve learned humility.  I can’t do this without outside help.  Even though I said this before, I didn’t mean it.  I was just saying the phrase without fully appreciating it’s meaning.
This last time I quit (2 year abstinence), up until the end of the first year point, I listened to the gut-wrenching stories of others who were coming off a binge and it helped to jolt me back there with them.  Then, after about a year, I be***ved I had beaten it.  It was over and done with.  I would *** to myself and say "I don’t even have the urge any more, how awesome of me.  I don’t need any outside influence, I’ve got this".  Terrible, terrible ***s.
This addiction is so very real and powerful.  I saw it in myself just two days ago.  Gambling like a desperate fiend, throwing caution to the wind while convinced I knew what I was doing.  Not until I left the casino in that all too familiar losing walk to my car did I begin to grasp the realization of where I had arrived, once again.
I now understand I can’t do this alone, forever.  I may be able to go stretches, but over the long-haul, if I don’t remind myself on a regular basis of just how damaging I can be to myself and those around me – bolstered by the stories of tragedy and hope of others, to remind me of mine – I will be back there.  I’m so convinced of this that any doubt is entirely negated.  I desperately hope my fear of relapse, coupled with regular and consistent communication with other recovering addicts and the constant reminder that I must always be on guard, will be my salvation from this path of absolute destruction.
I’ve had bouts of addictions in my life, some small and some not-so-small, with alcohol and *****, and have been able to rid my life of them.  But nothing – and I mean NOTHING – has compared to the hill that has to be climbed to put this compulsive gambling into remission. 

[danchaser]

Can you imagine being the only compulsive gambler out there, Harry?  Insanity would be a definite.
Knowing I’m not alone – not some degenerate freak – and that others like me have been able to take control over their own addiction is literally the only thing that gives me hope and solace. 
I sincerely believe our purpose now includes each other.  Without stories and examples from those of you who are succeeding, I’d feel very differently about my chances for a similar outcome.
Sorry to be blunt, but I thank you for your addiction because it has the potential to now help mine.

[danchaser]

Welcome Jared.
Man, you are in that scary and (unfortunately) familiar place at the moment – and I’m right there with ya, buddy.  Don’t dismiss it or wish for it to disappear, seize it!  Your mind and your body are telling you one thing right now – gambling is detrimental to your well-being, not just financially, but just as importantly, emotionally.
If today can be the first day of not gambling ever again, isn’t what you’re we’re feeling at the moment one of the best gifts you we’ve have ever received?  The priceless gift of self-preservation?  Up to this point, I’ve always told myself that given a few days or a few weeks of not gambling that I’ll feel better.  And I do…until the inevitable next time.  But what if this feeling is precisely the prescription that we need and is supposed to be harnessed and used?  What if -same as adrenaline – there’s a powerful, potential purpose for this depression and financial hardship, and we simply don’t interpret it as such, so we try to flee from and bury it instead of embrace it as we should?
Right now, I’m depressed, I’m scared, I feel very alone and I feel so much guilt that I can barely see straight or function, but I’m **** glad I do, since the only thing worse at this moment would be feeling nothing or holding fast to the ridiculous belief that I can win it all back.  For then, I would truly have lost the war against my addiction and nothing would change.
 

[danchaser]

We can’t let our guard down for a moment, can we?
Welcome back (not that I knew you were gone (being new here and all), but still))!
I’ll tell ya, Gambler Anonymous meetings didn’t work for me because I didn’t like attending them and found myself rolling my eyes too often.  However, with that said, I do believe compulsive gamblers need each other.  Desperately, in fact. 
I sure hope this site lives up to the standard I’ve assigned it.  I plan on posting and reading here regularly because I sincerely believe that if I don’t stay proactive and consistent in my recovery, it simply won’t last.
Here’s hoping you also aspire to do the same – and we both make it.

[danchaser]

Thanks for the encouragement, Razabelle.
I have to be motivated about this.  Anything less would have me chasing lost money that will never, ever be in my account again via gambling. 
Honestly though, it’s exhausting just trying to keep positive while staring down the deceptive compulsion inside myself.  Heck, I don’t feel like a compulsive gambler, regardless of the proof.  I don’t get the shakes, get physically ill or have withdrawal seizures like most addictions provide when one decides to stop.  But I do have a compulsion, that’s for **** sure.  But ONLY when I give myself even the slightest nod of approval to gamble, then I’m a stark-raving mad stranger to myself.  Maybe not at first, but eventually, I get there.  That’s my old friend.
The thing that scares me the most right now is that this isn’t even the most sure I’ve been about not gambling again.  I sure hope this is an entire war, because I’ve lost a few battles.  But at least now I’m prepared for a trigger that before I wasn’t aware of before – this being that given time (two years this last time), I get lazy in my recovery (all ancient history now!) and allow myself to be***ve that I can just gamble a little and KEEP IT THIS TIME!  ****** for that bull****! 
This is the *** that lives in far too many of us compulsive gamblers: that we can be cured and it will all be like it was in the beginning – just a fun time at the casino.  No way, no how.  I’m afraid our recovery doesn’t end until the day we die and we cannot allow our guard down for even an instant, because this is precisely when the beckoning viper strikes (again) to deprive our lives of guiltless peace.  And when I say "guiltless peace", I can even do without the peace, just give me the ‘guiltless’ (regarding gambling) and I’ll manage just fine. 
 
As a side note: I’d like to thank the operator(s) of this site for affording myself (and others) the opportunity to write these feelings down while I’m in this current state to read again at a later date when I think all’s well with having beaten my long-ago gambling addiction.  If you could keep it in operation for the duration of my life, that’d be perfect, because I need the man I am at the moment to remind the man coming later about just how dangerous he is.
 

[danchaser]

Thanks for the kind words, icandothis.
Funny thing, I didn’t lose all of the "winnings" plus the other 300% back in one day.  It took 2 days. In fact, I was going to bet heavy on another sports team (Dodgers) to win back the first day’s loss before I decided on the quick fix – blackjack.  And guess what?  They won and I would have been back on top.
It’s maddening.  Not because I would have been up again, that’s not it.  I’d have eventually given that back too.  It’s the always telling myself what I should have done:  should have doubled down, shouldn’t have ‘hit’, should have bet more/less on that hand/game, etc. 
Who ***** this extra kind of stressful thinking in their life?  We don’t have enough worries and concerns that we need to add losing-result card images and losing sports scores into our psyche?  How many ***** do I have to look myself in the mirror and explain this logic to myself again?  God willing, none.
There’s really only one way to overcome the impending depression that follows losing – win it back.  Since this is a fool’s choice and attempt, resulting in the exact – or more likely, worse – outcome, the only thing left is to suffer through it.  Yet, even though I have years of ample proof to the contrary, a sick part of me truly believes I may win it all back, which is so ridiculously impossible, it’s not even funny, but it still tries to convince me.  Since I can’t surgically remove this ill part of myself, I have to give more strength to the logical and reasonable side and try to focus on it.
Instead of telling myself that had I stuck to the plan I would be ahead, what I should be telling myself is the truth, which is, had I stuck to the plan, and kept sticking to it, I’d have lost far more than just a ****-load of money.
It’s no wonder gambling can cause insanity.  I feel closer to it every time I hit these gambling bottoms. 
I absolutely do not want this any more.

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