Hi all, I have just joined and wanted to share my story on gambling addiction. I posted this on another site but that didn't seem to be frequented much, so I wanted to re-post it here.

I'm 28, working full-time and living with my parents. I have always been somewhat of a 'straight edge' person, being told that drinking, gambling, drugs and smoking made you a 'bad' person. In high school I mucked around with basketball, but only really started getting into it towards the end of high school. I was never much for studying, but after being rejected by a girl, I got really angry and wanted to show her what she'd miss out on, so I studied my ass off and barely got myself into university studying law (the uni had one of the worst reputations in my area).

My time was spent mainly either in the library, on the basketball court, or in the gym. I had become secretly competitive. People said I wasn't competitive but I knew otherwise. I'd be the quiet guy on the court who whooped your ass, and the silent guy in the classroom getting jealous at everyone with better grades. I got through uni with a high credit average, and eventually found a job with a small law firm which paid peanuts, but I didn't care as I was in it for the experience.

I started working there in 2006. In 2008 I was still there. In around April that year my friends took my to the casino. I had never gambled before, and never even thought about it. It just wasn't something I'd do, or thought I'd like doing. But that night, I decided to have a bit of fun and placed a $10 bet on sic bo. I won. I decided to have another go and I won. I played again and won. That was a total gain of $30. I was ecstatic. Winning $30 was a lot, I figured I could go buy myself a CD. Little did I know, the gambling bug had begun and started delving deep into my brain.

A few weeks later I found myself at the casino again. Alone. I found an attraction to roulette, and played it cautiously. I was so new to the thing that I walked to the cashier with my coloured chips instead of cashing it in first. I thought I had devised a nice system where I bet on numbers 0-30 to win myself $30 each spin. Of course, if it landed elsewhere I'd lose $150. The wins made me think it was an easy game. Subconsciously, I thought about it more than I should have. It led to me thinking about it so much, that in the mornings I would go to the casino before work, play a few games, go back home then get ready for work.

I started devising new systems. I'd get the picture card and a pencil from the casino and draw up betting strategies. Hell, I'd draw my own roulette layout and think up strategies. I thought I could beat the system. I started looking up roulette forums on the internet. If I didn't go before work, then I went after work. Sometimes I'd win, sometimes I'd lose. I could win about $500 one night, or lose up to $800 a night.

A few months prior, I had applied for a credit card to use overseas on my holiday in case of an emergency. I had never had use for a credit card before...until now. When I'd lose, I'd go to the machine and withdraw cash to gamble more. Needless to say, the transaction fees and interest on cash advances were killing me, but my thoughts at the time were "it's only $500, if you lose it, you can pay it back with the next paycheck". $500 became $1000. $1000 became $1500. $1500 became $2000, and so on, until I reached my limit of $5000.

I knew I was addicted, but I didn't realise the extent of my addiction. I mean, yeah, hitting my credit limit was pretty bad, but I still thought I could stop at anytime and just repay it in the future. But slowly, I was beginning to change as a person. I noticed I was increasingly late to events. Sometimes I'd have to meet my friends in the city, and I'd think "oh I'll just drop by the casino before that, maybe I can win the cost of dinner". But I'd play and play and play until it became obvious that I'd be late.

I was also leading a life of lies. I gambled by myself, but outside of the casino, I'd advocate against gambling. I'd have clients coming to me with gambling problems and I'd tell them what a bad habit it was. My friends would ask me what I did on the weekend and I'd have to lie. My game in basketball started to drop. I was late to games, and I just didn't have the motivation to make myself a better player anymore.

Worst of all, my dad had put $1000 with me for safe keeping and had me buy some shares for him in my name, and I had used them for gambling. Once my dad asked "did I have $1000 with you?" and I said no, as he had clearly forgotten about it. To this day, I cannot believe that I would steal from my dad for this filthy habit.

But there was another aspect to it. I had suspected for a long time (but never got diagnosed) that I suffered from depression. It probably goes back to the time I was rejected by the girl in high school. Ever since then, I have had zero luck with girls. But sitting at the roulette table, sometimes just betting $20 on two quarters of the table, round after round, seemed to sooth my depression. It was almost like roulette was my friend. But in reality, the devil was sitting next to me with his hand around my shoulder, pretending to be all chummy with me whilst draining my pocket. I was chasing my losses. Even though it was a well known 'no-no', I did it anyway. The competitive side of me thought I could beat the casino odds.

As the losses mounted, my wagers increased. I started betting $200 per spin, seeking bigger gains. The thrill was bigger. That was another element to the whole thing. It was like the excitement of a close basketball game at the last minute all compounded into one gambling session - spin after spin. From the moment I'd step out of my car to walk to the casino, my heart rate would increase. The smell of the airconditioning inside relieved me. My hands would tremble with excitement as I placed my bets. I would silently curse the dealer if I lost, but also think the dealer was my best friend if I won. There was a side of me that I never knew - people (even old people with crutches) would sidle up to me to gamble, and I'd nudge them back feeling they were invading my personal space.

Of course, my credit card company could see how profitable I was to them, so they gave me a credit increase to $12,000. So that was more money for me to play with. By now I was looking for ways to stop my addiction. I was looking for help. I'd try not to visit the casino, but the max I could stay away was three weeks. It was really working into my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about it. Working with clients who have had gambling problems, I had the opportunity to read reports, and I remember reading one which said gambling was a disease of the mind, and it worked on the mind the same way illicit drugs would. I could feel that was happening to me. Everything I did, everywhere I went, every thought I had ended up relating itself to gambling. My mind was forcing me back to the casino. I couldn't get away from it. It was too much. I had to feed my addiction. Placing bets would make me feel better, but the losses would make me feel like crap.

At one stage, my debt touched $10,000. What made it worse was that by now, I had changed jobs. I was involved in a very big case. My client's life basically depended on it. I vowed to work extremely hard on it. But, being the liar the gambling had made me, I broke that promise. As soon as the clock struck 5pm I'd head off to the casino. I didn't put in the extra work that my job required. With any money that I won, I felt it was a 'bonus' and spent it on things like clothes and prostitutes. Anything I lost, I'd have to repay out of my future wages. This was a vicious cycle which meant I would never really be able to pay it all back.

My cry out for help got so bad at one stage that I finally decided to call the gambling helpline. I had just left the casino after a horrible loss. I was walking back to the bus stop when I made the call. The guy on the phone lent his ear to my troubles, and I appreciated it. He let me voice my thoughts, my fears, and my troubles. I had sat on a bench talking to him on the phone. It got so emotional I broke down. I was a man in tears, in front of all the people passing by, I was crying so hard that I could barely speak. He referred me to the closest free counselling service. I thanked him, but again, being the liar I was, I never went to that service.

Not only that, but I continued gambling. This voice...this devil in my head just kept luring me back to the casino. It was unbearable. It was unbelievable. I knew it was wrong but I kept doing it.

Then, in May 2009, I hurt my knee very badly in a basketball game. I had a 99% tear in my ACL. Most people wouldn't be able to walk, but I still hobbled around. I even hobbled to the casino. This in fact gave me more time at the casino since I couldn't play basketball anymore anyway. Needless to say, the losses kept piling up. My life as a lie continued. Sometimes it would be embarassing - my friend's boyfriend works at the casino and I'd bump into him sometimes, and I was sure he'd tell her. That was one of my biggest concerns - my reputation. I did not want to be known as a gambling addict. That would really ruin me. Sometimes at the casino I'd see a middle aged business man in a suit playing roulette. He'd place a $100 bet and then nervously walk away, only to return when the result was announced. I could tell he was addicted. And I didn't want to be like him. I pictured him as a decent family man with an above average income - why was he willing to throw that all away for this stupid game? Why was I willing to throw all this away for this stupid game?

My job ended in late 2009 and I found another job in a somewhat remote location. It was perfect, I thought, because that would keep me away from the casino. But nope - I found myself still driving three hours on the weekend to visit the closest casino, although the addiction there never really grew. I managed to save a bit of money, but I was only there for three months before I got another job back in the city. My gambling resumed. But at the same time, I started playing basketball a bit more in a conscious effort to keep mysellf busy and away from the casino.

In June 2010 I tore the rest of my ACL playing basketball. I should've had surgery the first time, but I figured I could tough it out. Now, I was sure I needed surgery. In July 2010 I had my knee surgery. Afterwards, I could barely walk, even with crutches. I took two weeks off work and just hung around at home. I was very immobile. After a few weeks, it became evident that I was having trouble straightening my leg. My doctor said if I didn't get it straight within four weeks, then it may never straighten.

So on weekdays I went to the gym twice a day, and on weekends I went three times a day, to do my physio, trying to straighten my leg. That kept me very busy. I eventually managed to straighten my leg, but now I spend a lot of time on bending it. I have also returned to basketball and the gym. I have not gambling since my surgery, which is about eight months now.

My knee injury, basketball, and my fitness lifestyle turned out to be my saviour, as it has kept me busy. My financial situation is also a lot better now, although I am still paying my debts back. Don't get me wrong, I don't think it's over, I am still fighting. Even now, the devil still sometimes talks to me. When I have an idle moment, I can hear the devil whisper into my ear "how about the casino?" At one stage it got so bad that I busied myself with prostitutes in my free time. I figured it was a lesser sin, and a less addictive one.

I remember seeing a tv ad for quitting smoking, and it said that a person's willpower increases over the amount of time they have abstained from their addiction. This is very true. I did once make a return to the casino with my friend, but I did not gamble at all. In fact, I looked at the gamblers with disdain. They seemed dirty to me. But in my mind, when the devil talks to me, gambling is such a pretty thing, such a desirable thing. I am not sure how long th devil's voice will stay in my head. It may never leave. I don't think my battle is over yet. But I find comfort in knowing that if I have abstained for so long, then it is easier to push that voice away. It helps to find activities or friends to keep myself occupied.

However, I feel gambling has left a scar on me. I am still a liar, in that there will be those two years and money lost that I will never be able to account for. These days, my friends are starting to buy investment properties. They must wonder why I'm going from paycheck to paycheck. Maybe in a few years when I catch up financially I will finally feel the load off my shoulder.