[Steev]

“My childhood was just like anyone else’s.  I was an only child, my father had a gambling addiction, so we had no money in the house and my parents were always arguing.  Once my father left my mother became depressed and could go for days not even speaking to me.  Just a normal childhood – like everyone else.”

 

That was the answer I gave to the first counsellor I ever met.  I had come to see “Marriage Guidance” after I had left my first wife – and couldn’t understand why I felt so down about it.  I had expected to be talking about her drinking, my trying to control it and failing miserably.  Instead, the counsellor seemed more interested in stuff that had gone on years before.

 

It does seem strange that my father was such a big gambler and it had made all our lives so miserable.  Why on earth would I want to go down the same path myself?  The simple truth is that at first, I didn’t see what I was doing as gambling.

 

My father was a sport’s betting man – specifically horse-racing, though he would have a punt on the football pools most Saturday nights.  The only time I ever saw him gamble was at the funfairs which came around to our small town twice a year.  There, he would give me a few pennies to join him on the “Penny Falls machines” and the old tick-tack-toe pull handle, fruit slots.  It was rare for us to spend any time together – we didn’t get on.  I tended to side with my mother in the arguments around the house, especially on the occasions when my piggy-bank had been raided for the few pence they contained to feed his habit.

I had never been inside a betting shop – and never did whilst my own gambling was getting out of control, confining myself to “penny arcades” pub machines and later casinos.

 

I have been asked if there is a genetic component to my addiction; like father, like son and the honest answer is that I don’t know.  There is some evidence I think, for this – but then is that part of the nature / nurture debate?  I grew up in a gambling family; it was, (in the correct usage of the word,) what I was familiar with.

 

One of my earliest memories of gambling on my own – came from my early teens.  I was one of the school librarians, a role I took on slightly because of my love of books – but more practically because it meant I could go home later and not have to be near the bullies at the bus-stop.  As a reward for our endeavours – the teacher in charge of the library and a colleague decided to take the two other “librarians” and myself on a day trip to North Wales – which was something really special for me – as I never could afford to go on the many school trips the Grammar School put on.

 

I had managed to persuade my mother to give me some shillings for the trip.  Just enough for an entrance fee somewhere if needed – and after an educational day visiting slate mines etc – the five of us turned up at a small restaurant for a meal.  Here I looked at the menu and panicked.  I knew I didn’t have enough for any main course – so had to plan whether to just choose a first course or a dessert – as I didn’t have the cash for anything else.   I chose (wait for it …) dessert – and although the teachers were surprised I wasn’t having anything, I was allowed to wait whilst the others tucked in, although I was starving.  I was so hungry that I decided I couldn’t watch any more and went to the toilet.  On the way there was a slot machine.  It occurred to me that if I was to spend some of my money in the contraption, that I could win enough for a main and at least eat.  I decided to keep enough back for ice-cream and gamble the rest.  There was no fairy-tale ending.  I lost the lot, though I still retained the ice-cream money – and boy did I enjoy the ice-cream.  Of course, the teacher’s decided that the meal was part of the treat and paid for all of us.  If only if they had said that ahead of time!

But somehow that incident stayed with me and for some reason when I had money later in life (I started work at 16) going back to the machines to “make them pay” seemed to get hold of me.  I became a gambler very early.  For many years, through my first few jobs and my first marriage – I gambled normally, in as much as playing slots is normal.  I played on occasions, didn’t get into debt (I worked up into a high paying job) and didn’t cause anyone else any problems.  Then several things came together to bring me to my annus horribilis – but that is the story of another post.

 

I am not blaming my childhood for my addiction.  I am not blaming my father for being a compulsive gambler himself – nor for introducing me to the machines.  I think I would have found them anyway.  But I do remember hearing the rows my parents were having and putting my fingers in my ears and humming to myself to drown out the noise.

Then think about being in an arcade, playing slots.  Nothing else matters.  All your senses are taken up with the sounds and the flashing lights – waiting for the reels to drop – duh, duh, durrrh.  Then the feeling of elation (occasionally) or disappointment (more often.)  Nothing else matters.  The pain of being overlooked at work, of being cheated on in a marriage, of being lonely, of the spiralling, out of control debt.  Whilst in the mode – all you want to do is gamble to keep those other thoughts, those other feelings at bay.  My ears are filled with the sounds of the machines, my eyes blinded from all but the pulsing lights aimed at keeping you interested, invested.  No clocks, no windows, no outlet to the “real” world.

But eventually I had to come out, blinking, into the everyday – the debts hadn’t gone away – they had increased and the other matters had just been put off.

It took me several years to really deal with the troubles in my childhood and to look at my part in the other problems I had in life, instead of trying to blot them out.  Maybe it took the need for me to recover from gambling to do this – to set me on the journey of self-discovery that has taken most of my life.  I don’t know for sure – but I do know I prefer being gambling free and I am a living example of the motto that it is never too late to have a happy childhood!

 

[i-did-it]

Hi Steev
Thank you for sharing your story.
I feel gutted for that child missing out the meal.
I think there could be a genetic element to gambling addiction- it has run through generations of my family.
It is so true that when we are in action all the pain and disappointments of life disappear for a while. When money run out we find we have just added to our pain and disappointment.

I like the idea that we can have our childhood at any time – if we think like this we don’t have to look back and have regrets.

[Plaza]

Hey,

Having read your opening post, it so reminded me of my story.
Same with dad gambling particularly slots, dad being cheated on and no doubt a big reason for him gambling.

I was exposed to it from the age of 10 and 41 years later I still find myself totally addicted to the slots. No money in the ‘new’ family and what little was about, that went on my mums new man in the pub.

I To suffered at school and when I left school and I suddenly had money for the first time, I knew I could really play the slots and ‘try’ and win more money. It’s been a battle for a lifetime now and just 3 weeks and 4 days in, for the first time ever, I believe I can beat this this.

Trust me, if I can do this then absolutely anyone can do it. If losing my daughter last September and both my in laws within 13 months with my daughter In between wasn’t a trigger point to gamble every thing I have then I do not know what else could push me over the edge. Battling suicide thoughts whilst being classed as 40% disabled and taking one of the highest prescribed OxyContin dosages in the U.K. to combat severe Chronic Back Pain and I can still stop or try to stop my slot machine addiction, then everyone on this planet can stop.

I have to go now, but feel free to hit me up if you want to talk. I’ve been there and got the T-shirt.

Plaza

[Steev]

I wasn’t sure where to begin with my forum post – so thought I’d tell my gambling story – but there is so much! Anyways in a while I will go onto my real gambling problem time which I hinted at in my first post.

I’m not sure whether to do that here or on another thread – what’s the etiquette?

I think when I was a child, I saw all of my problems as being from a starting point of “I am poor.” The bullying for not having the right uniform at school, not being able to go anywhere. No holidays (is that why I am travelling the world now?) When I started earning money and having more than I knew what to do with – I felt guilty, as if I didn’t deserve it. Of course I had no family history of how to save – I didn’t learn the value of money. So as long as all the immediate bills were paid – anything else was available to do what I liked – and I liked to gamble. In a sense I carried my childhood into my adult life – and had to shake free of this “need” to remain poor. Even now I feel uncomfortable if I spend more than I “need” to – giving myself a treat is a battle. I am hoping that travelling and being out of my comfort zone will help me to grow up. I need to, I am in my 60s after all!

[Meghna83]

I also felt your heartache of not realising before hand that the meal would be paid for. It’s funny how as kids we cant make those guesses beforehand which we do as adults.

I was also impressed by your quick thinking about how you might Have paid for your meal and saved some money for your ice cream. And that ice-cream! Been there and it’s those memories that comfort me. The small pleasures that mean the world at that age.

It takes courage to take responsibility for your own actions as an adult and not blame the past and examples set by the adults Back then. My father wasn’t a gambler nor my mother. But he was very strict, cold and unforgiving. I do appreciate his discipline and his hard work though.

Does anyone gamble in my family? No just me. It’s my urge to get quick results, my impatience, my need to accumulate, to save for a rainy day. Fuck that rainy day. How about living in the present? If that rainy day came at least I’d have my closest ppl beside me. I’d get through it.

I grew up without a mum from the age of 3. Perhaps younger. My father remarried and unfortunately it was a case of the evil step mother. Big gap left in me in my teens. A real
Internal struggle. But I am now a mother and feel like I’m retracing hidden footsteps and filling in the missing ones.

[Meghna83]

Also we were poor. Never really had the clothes or things I wanted and forget school trips. I do see the link between past needs and the present. Cliche but real?

[lizbeth4]

Thanks for sharing your story! I grew up in a poor family. As soon as I could work, 12 years old, babysitting, Yard work, I bought all of my essentials, such as clothing, ect. I grew up with gamblers and alcoholics. Strangely, I ‘ve never liked the taste of alcohol but in my 30’s started gambling after a painful divorce.
I do believe that we emulate some things that we are surrounded by in our environment as children. Each of my siblings have an addiction.
Your story about the missed meal broke my heart. Certain things and events stick in our minds forever. I am in my early 60’s and have done some real growing up and soul searching the last few years. Growing and learning never stops.

[Plaza]

Thanks for reply.

You ask if you should give the whole story. In my opinion I think you should. If you read my journal, I go into great detail about my life which funnily enough exactly like yours. The poor thing, the school uniforms, school holidays that even my teacher paid for once and dad give me cash to go with but when mum found out she took that money off me and I couldn’t go.
I think my childhood was 100% behind who I grew up to be. Me like you with can’t save, gotta spend it before it’s taken off me etc etc.
I also think if I had not met my partner 17 years ago I wouldn’t ever be able to break the shackles off. Not that I’m saying it worked straight away because it didn’t. Even now we both have our own money and split everything 50/50 and I still wracked up ￡42k debt when I was forced to retire at 41 because of the back op that went horribly wrong. But it’s taken me 41 years like I have said, were if I had not met my partner it definitely would of been for entire life.
God, I’m speaking like I’m cured here and I am only 3 weeks 4 or 5 days in, but I feel the urge because I have options which help. I still Sports bet Football and play poker. Both of those are responsible gambling which is fine to me. But ask me to drop everything, that unfortunately will never happen. Why should it, I don’t drink smoke or do drugs. I’m not religious and I do t go travelling because of my dogs and partner. So I need something at least.

Anyway I will close because partner due home soon, but tell the story on here is my advice. Peeps then know the real you and how it all started and anyone new reading it could relate to it like I have. I think that’s important. By the way, you might be in your 60’s but age is just a number right???

[Meghna83]

Hi steev do keep posting about your journey until this point. ??

[Steev]

For your comments … Meghna – I will work on the next part of my story soon – even today! RG – yes I have read the book “Your money or your life” – I think at the point when I was self-employed and making very little – it was one of the things that helped me to make the break.

So, I am writing this post in a tiny self-contained apartment within someone else’s house. The view outside is of a brick wall – although I know beyond that there are stunning views of the city. Yesterday I visited a friend who is pet-sitting for a living. She was at the house of one of her clients who was paying her to look after 1 cat. The house was 4 or 5 bedrooms, a gorgeous spiral wooden staircase, 2 bathrooms in its own grounds in an exclusive, quiet part of town. A couple own it and are on holiday in the Caribbean at present. Now perhaps if I hadn’t gambled – I might have been able to afford somewhere like that. Perhaps, who knows? But although I felt a pang of jealously – it soon passed. I am happy enough in my little pad – connecting to people on line. My friend has given me my microwave back for a week as there isn’t one here – and there is no TV!

The strange thing is that I feel really happy about the situation – one (I guess) that would get many people down – especially as the house I sold had spectacular views over the countyside (it’s main selling point.) That is gone now. It helps that at the end of the month I will be in London – getting the train through the channel tunnel for the first time to go to Brussels – and then to 8 different cities in Germany including Hamburg and Berlin – and then on into France …

Doing what I have always wanted to do is scary and bewildering. There is still part of me that feels I don’t deserve this. But then, I never wanted a life based on standing in front of slot machines. I never wanted a life based on working 8 hour days and then teaching for 3 hours in the evening just to pay the bills. I never wanted a life based on being in offices with no windows – only seeing real daylight for part of a 30 minute lunch break.

And I know the latter is the work reality for lots of people – not just gamblers – people do it because they need to make ends meet for all sorts of reasons. But I know I was doing it because in the past I gave my money (and borrowed / future money) to unknown corporations that bleed gamblers dry. I’m not proud of that – I am proud that my gambling has stopped and if I can help other people do the same by telling my story, well …

So when you are struggling to keep gambling free, or if you feel like the fight with the addiction is not worth it, remember that YOU can do what YOU really want with your life. You can. It won’t be easy and perhaps it shouldn’t be – but most of the obstacles are within ourselves and with support we can overcome them.

Oh and I will post the next part of my gambling history … soon!

[Meghna83]

I appreciate you telling your story. Your holiday sounds great. Ah travelling!!! Enjoy and it seems it’s bringing you so much contentment. I love France. Lived there for six years. My first bf  was French and followed him there. Try to speak French with the locals…they’ll love that and you. 

Enjoy and when you get the time please post !!!

[Author]

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