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Thanks, Jonny. You can call me Dan, that’s my name (wink…lol).

I made it to 43 days. I know this because my last time losing my worth to a casino was Valentines Day and yesterday was my birthday (which I could care less about).

The days pass. Time moves on. Does it help? Yes, it does.

Since the wise man makes money off interest and the foolish man pays, why should “time” matter?

Because it’s not about money. It is, and it isn’t. Money matters (obviously…pretty useful when it comes to paying for things), but what is the point of having small the money in the world if I don’t have control over myself. If that were the case, having all would equate to less than what I’ve experienced.

Degrees of loss. I have lost as much as I can afford. But I can offer more. So I digress. I can afford more, but I won’t.

I have lost. I will lose more, if I continue.

Enough. I’ve had my fill.

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So. Three options:

1 – suicide (easy way out. Permanent solution to a temporary problem (if you really want it)). Worst option.

2 – feel bad for a while and then gamble when you have recovered from the last loss, and then give gambling another shot.

3 – my favorite. Tell gambling to go suck a cucumber. Be just a little stronger…even if it’s just 55.0001 %, and let go of that futile and destructive illness in our brains that is rightfully described and literally, diagnosed as compulsive gambling.

I choose #3, and I hope you do too.

Believe it or not (I’ve witnessed it) that at one point, after you’ve given up this nonsense that is gambling, you’ll be forgiven by your loved ones. Impossible to imagine, but true.

Trust me. I’m you. You’re me, when it comes to this seemingly impossible feat we have to accomplish.

I’m at day 42. Nothing to pat myself on the back for and I’m not. However, I do know one thing: life goes by in a blink. 42 may as well be 4200. Maybe not financially, but emotionally, it does.

You’ll be fine. Or you won’t.

How determined are you to take this shit one day at a time? How tough are you?

By reaching out for something other than what your self-inclination is, which is self-destruction, it would appear that you’re willing and ready…and strong enough to fight against the moments of “weakness”.

Trust is yourself and…time. You will never “earn” your money back by gambling. Good. It’s a fool’s paradise anyway.

The most sound piece of advice in your newfound STRENGTH (!), trust what Charles has to say. His sound pieces of advice aren’t fun to hear, but they’re pretty damn close to being more than needed.

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Scary. Until you accept it.

Our addiction has no end. I’m certain this is the same with every addiction. Apparently, we re-wire our brains.

Scary knowledge.

However, without this knowledge, we’d be doomed. Catch-22.

I was here as well, Laura. I only can wish that I could claim your 6 years. I can. I will. Thanks for coming back. It’s proof that this is never over. We have a war to fight, not merely a battle.

Thank you for your honesty and strength.

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38 days.

Feels like only yesterday I was lying my ass off.

Good.

Never let yourself forget it, Dan. Never. Everything and everyone in your life depends on it.

You could have had your life back. All of it. Instead, you chose to allow your compulsion to own you. Again.

No more gambling means no more regrets from gambling.

So simple. So not. Take control. Be the man you are capable of being. As you are doing right now.

When going through Hell, don’t stop and rest. Gambling will always be my Hell. No stopping.

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Day 35

“Life. Doesn’t it go by in a blink?”

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Not necessary to share. At all. Keep it to yourself.

That’s the way problems were dealt with in the past. Why not hide it, from ourselves…and strangers on the web.

My grandfather was the baddest man in town. You didn’t **** with him or you’d get your ass handed to you. My grandmother, after he’d been drinking on Christmas Day pleaded with him to not drink THIS particular day. For that, she got a pretty punch in the face. Glass in her eye, because she wore glasses. My uncle took her to the hospital to get the glass removed.

When my grandpa woke up th next day and had explained to him what THIS drunken rage caused (of course, more preceeded), he swore he’d never touch liquor again.

He didn’t.

Neither did my father. Not that he wasn’t without his faults, but they never included liquor…he’s never even tasted it.

Thank you for sharing your story to “strangers” on the internet. Thank you and thank you some more.

I no longer describe myself as a narcissist and a thrill seeker. No, that’s me. I define myself as such.

I not only find sanctuary on this web platform, I find strength. Hope. Resilience.

Not because I don’t know you, but because I do.

Thank you!

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Beginning to understand the term “coming to terms with guilt”.

I don’t view this as a bad thing or a trigger. I recognize it for what it is.

I have made mistakes that I can’t rectify or fix, right now. Today. But if I continue on this path, the past will become just that and I can move on with the ‘now’.

So yes. Time in recovery does matter for me. So much more than I realize.

I have this stupid t-shirt. Plain, cheap got a design of a basketball player that rubs down one side. Not sure why I bought it. I guess I need shirts.

I was going to throw it away since that was the shirt I wore during my last rendezvous with my devil. I decided to keep it. It’s nowhere special in my closet. I don’t predominately display it. But I do see it every day. I want to see it. I don’t wNt to lose the memory of anything any more.

Time. Does away from gambling. Does it matter? Of course.

Seems like it anyway. Only one way to find out for sure.

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Day 30.

Supposed to be a big day. Yeah, ok. I’ll take it.

Don’t want claps or cheers or a rediculous month chip from GA. I just don’t.

What I want is more. More time behind me. I want to forget and I know the way forgetting works…it is a roller coaster. I bought a ticket for this ride and I’m not getting off. Never again.

My life will simply have to be what it was supposed to be if I hadn’t/don’t gamble. If it’s not perfect, fine. If a meteor hits the Earth, if the absolute worst that I can imagine happens, at least o wasn’t the reason for it…maybe. If my losses cause any more pain…particularly serious, then yes, I’ll never recover. But if tough things happen..as they do in life…that has nothing to do with my gambling…I’ll survive it, because I’ve dealt pain. I’ve provided pain, vacillated it.

I don’t want to regret any more. I want to experience what I’m supposed to. What I was made for.

One day at a time? Sure. Fine. I’m going for a lifetime at a time, because otherwise I’ll succumb. No days. No 30 day chips. No year celebrations…for me they’re crutches…more than that, they leave the door open.

My door is closed. Locked. Bolted. Backed with dynamite.

I have no doubts and I know why. I see who I am and I don’t like it. I want more. I want life. Addiction can take a leap.

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Day 26

Better? Of course. Fixed and everything is nice and makes sense…not by a long shot. Do I feel more financially confident? Totally. 100%? Nope. I have an compulsion to gamble it all away. But only when I do. I’m not a robot. I’m not programmmed by a programmer. Check that… I do have a programmer…myself.

How do I program myself differently than I have in the past. Not sure. But by not gambling I may find out what input I’ve imputed into myself, allowing the clarity to see how I’ve been faulty in my thinking.

Hopefully .

It is what it is, but without me working on myself, nothing will change. I want change. Desperately.

“Don’t go silently into that good night”. But with a caviet, for myself.. also don’t go wildly. Don’t follow my in inclinations, make them follow.

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Day 26

Better? Of course. Fixed and everything is nice and makes sense…not by a long shot. Do I feel more financially confident? Totally. 100%? Nope. I have an compulsion to gamble it all away. But only when I do. I’m not a robot. I’m not programmmed by a programmer. Check that… I do have a programmer…myself.

How do I program myself differently than I have in the past. Not sure. But by not gambling I may find out what input I’ve imputed into myself, allowing the clarity to see how I’ve been faulty in my thinking.

Hopefully .

It is what it is, but without me working on myself, nothing will change. I want change. Desperately.

“Don’t go silently into that good night”. But with a caviet, for myself.. also don’t go wildly. Don’t follow my in inclinations, make them follow.

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Day one is a rough day.

I wish you the best in your struggle.

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But I’ll continue on. My journey isn’t over because it isn’t.

My fight continues because that’s just the way it is.

I’ll win the fight because I have to. There can only be one winner and gratefully, it’ll be me. Because either way it goes down…whoever, in the end is declared the winner, his name will be my own.

Because I’m fighting myself.

Win or lose, I’ll be holding the trophy

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If my descriptors of what the spiraling into gambling hell offers, than at least it amounted to more than less than nothing.

But that depends on you, I suppose. I’m merely an expert at deception and lying. Making my loved ones, both little and old, stress unnecessarily because of my compulsion. Absolute, total…beyond a shadow of a doubt, compulsion.

Maddening.

Did you know the #1 addiction that leads to suicide is gambling? I do. I’ve known it for far too long. Yet.. I go back for more.

I cried maybe 3 times after my 24 year marriage ended. Only one time was severe. I’ve had crying episodes far, far worse from gambling. Not sure why, but I suppose it’s because I landed. I lost everything…I’m not talking about money or relationships here…I’m talking about losing my ability to control my mind, thus my actions.

I’m afraid of me more than I am afraid of death.

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Vera, you’re an inspiration. Best part of that, you’re right.

When do angels arrive? Just in time. The right time.

Thank you, Vera.

Let’s figure out how to not gamble and yet lead lives that we can be proud of, friends. With angels like Vera, I feel hope.

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Welcome back.

I’d put an explanation mark, but we both know how hurtful “coming back” is. So I won’t try and suger-coat it with high-fives.

Yet….we both did come back. Our journey in life and everything this in includes…we’re not ready to give up yet; to surrender.

So, with this reality, this proclamation from us both to end this cycle of misery, to change how we view ourselves, to change US….why not?…

WELCOME BACK!!!!

Let’s do it this time. What have we got lose?

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