Sometimes fear stems from lack of knowledge.

                       

Once upon a time in a land far-away . . . (Part two of two)

 

 I lived in the Philippines for about four years and most times was able to satisfy the need for bingo at the occasional, once a week game at the Officers Club. It was not until we moved to Hawaii that my obsession with playing bingo became unmanageable and I was playing somewhere on the island, daily. Yes, Hawaii, one of two states in the Union that does not have legalized gambling; unless of course you are on a military installation and then you can gamble every day! It was while living in Hawaii and coming to the Mainland for vacations that I finally got the opportunity to return to my favorite place in the world…Las Vegas. Although it took three more years to actually move to Las Vegas, I knew that I was home. Bingo and slots available 24/7, 365 days a year and now, I could get my fix whenever I needed to kill a little time.

My ex-husband was a training officer with the Department of Corrections and he realized that my gambling had progressed to a very scary point and I was about to cross that invisible line. Although he was unaware of how bad my gambling had progressed, he suspected that I was thinking about committing a crime and wanted to give me a scared straight experience. I remember the day that I arrived at the prison and how fitting that it was sleeting, grey, and cold. I was there for a tour of the new medium-security male prison in Southern Nevada, but for me it was the slap upside the head that was needed for me to finally seek help.

A couple of days prior to that day, I sat in my car in the casino parking lot planning how to rob an old lady or an elderly couple as they exited the casino. Black pants-check, black turtleneck-check, black ski cap-check, face paint (left over from Halloween)-check, black boots-check. I had the outfit, had access to guns but was not planning to use a gun because that would be armed robbery. Now I just needed the courage to carry out the act and find the right victim. However, the more I sat and thought through my plan, I realized that I had some reservations and some flaws in my reasoning. What if I robbed a fellow compulsive gambler (although I didn’t know that that was what I was called) and they didn’t have any money? What if, in the course of robbing the person, I hit them so hard that they died? I just wanted their money, not their life. What if the casino cameras captured the act or they saw my license plate (note to self…borrow a license plate, preferably out of state, to put on the truck.)

I had tapped out all possible sources of money including: 401k loan, wiped out a mutual fund, five (secret) credit cards that had nearly reached their credit limits (all of which had $10,000 or more), working overtime to make more money, but still it was not enough. I had certain lines I was unwilling to cross that would have provided more money, but actually believed that it was easier on my conscience to rob someone than to tap into the household funds or take out a title loan or stop paying bills or pay them late. I was reluctant to steal from my employer and I was getting to a point of desperation and just needed one last stake to hit that last big jackpot.

Well, needless to say, that tour of the prison took place over 8 ½ years ago. My ex-husband was correct in his reasoning that the tour of what prison life really was about (strip searches, lack of privacy, lack of freedom, lousy food, lack of choices) convinced me to go for help. I’m one of the lucky (word choice? Perhaps blessed or fortunate?) ones, the chosen few that have found a new way of life and continue to work on my thinking and living, one day at a time.
 

Karen, Las Vegas 

The intent of Women Helping Women is to support and inform women

in recovery from a gambling addiction.  The opinions offered by lay-people as

well as professionals are based on their own experience and research  

and may not reflect the opinions of the editors.

Slippery slope of lying  by Dr. Marlo Archer

Everyone lies. There isn’t a person on this planet who tells the truth at all times. However, it seems that some lies are far more acceptable than others. We identify some untruths as “little white lies,” statements that aren’t entirely truthful, but are intended to help, rather than harm someone. We might compliment a young chef or singer to boost their self-esteem rather than give them our more honest and unflattering opinions.

We frequently engage in “fibs,” which are lies intended as jokes. We might tell someone we did something shocking when we didn’t actually do it, just to get a rise out of them. We might lead someone to believe we betrayed their confidence in a way that would embarrass them, only to confess a moment later, that their secret was still safe.

We might tell out-and-out lies during the planning of a surprise party or baby shower. We might even intentionally set things up to make it look like we’ve forgotten someone’s special day, only to enhance their enjoyment when the elaborate celebration is revealed. If directly questioned by our loved ones, regarding our plans, we’ll lie right to their face in the interest of pulling off a festive event.

Further along the continuum towards unacceptable lies are the lies people tell to themselves in order to cope with really difficult situations. Growing up in Wisconsin, I often heard, “It’s not that bad,” in reference to the weather, when it was, in my opinion, quite bad. People tell themselves, “I don’t really mind” a job that they hate, or “at least I’m lucky to have a job” when, in fact, they hate that very job. Next we have the lies people tell each other out of laziness and disinterest in carrying out a real conversation. How’s it going today, Phil? Great, and you? Oh, can’t complain. When, actually, Phil and his college son are fighting and the guy that “can’t complain” has been complaining to his wife about her weight all week. We call these tiny lies “social pleasantries” and we really don’t expect much truth in casual conversations.

Then we have the serious lies people tell themselves like “I can quit drinking any time I want to,” or “I don’t really need to smoke pot, I just like to,” or “The few things here and there that I steal from work don’t really affect anyone, and besides, I deserve them for what they pay me.” These are the lies that poison us slowly, erode our morals, and distort our thinking to the point at which we actually believe ourselves.

Once we’ve mastered lying to ourselves, we become able to tell the big ones to the important people in our lives. “That other woman means nothing to me,” or “I was going to tell you about that when I got a chance, it just hasn’t come up yet,” or “Me and Daddy are just working some things out right now, everything’s gonna be just fine, just go back to bed.” Or “Don’t worry, we’ll never have to move again, I’ll make sure of it.”

Although it seems utterly clear that these “terrible” lies are very hurtful and destructive, are they really that far from the little white lies we generally accept? The basic concept is the same. We begin by fooling ourselves, then we try to get others to believe our untruths, too. If you value honesty in our lives and in your families, take care to notice just how much “harmless” lying takes place and remember that once you’re on the slippery slope, it’s pretty easy to just keep on sliding down.

Dr. Marlo Archer: a licensed psychologist specializing in working with kids, teens, and their families. www.DrMarlo.com. Reprinted with permission from the Together AZ newsletter, October 2010 issue.
 

                          MICHAEL AND JACK

           Michael is in New Mexico, is attending GA meetings and visiting with local members to see the sites in Albuquerque.

You can watch his progress at:  HTTP://michaelwalksamerica.blogspot.com

   

 

MY SECOND JOB


In the beginning of my gambling days, I considered the time spent in casinos my time for socializing. It was my way of meeting people who enjoyed the same fun as me by gambling and waiting to hit one or two jackpots. Sometimes it felt like an accomplishment, sort of a goal, especially if I hit a jackpot and was able to take the money home. I truly believed I went to the casino to have fun, work the machines, play some cards and win some money. It was my home away from home. It was second nature to go when I had a bad day, didn't want to deal with life, or just needed to socialize without any strings attached. The people at the casino understood me. That lasted a few years. The excitement, the thrill of the jackpot and the ability to take home any winnings was all I ever needed . . . until my next fix.

But then things changed. The urge to gamble got stronger, the time spent gambling got longer and when I didn't win, I needed to stay to make up the money. Even if it meant all night long and into the next day. And before I knew it, I was going every day. This fun entertainment was no longer fun!!!! It was work. It was my second job!!!

Literally, I went to my real job from 7:00 in the morning until 4:30 in the afternoon. I made decisions, went to meetings, worked with clients and accomplished tasks. I worked for a company where financial decisions needed to be accurate, timely and efficient. So one would think that after a long day at work, you would be tired and ready to relax. But no, when 4:30 came, I went to my second job, the neighborhood casino. Sometimes, I couldn't get there fast enough. It was amazing to me that even after an eight-hour day at my first job, I would be so mentally charged and ready to make decisions for my second job. I needed a strategy on which table I was going to join so I could be ahead of the dealer and the players. And when I was at the slot machines, I needed to make sure I determined which machines were ready to pay out. When I gambled on weekdays I needed to plan my time wisely since I knew I could only stay a certain number of hours. I had been awake since 5:00am for my real job and needed to make sure I would get enough sleep for the next day. In my mind I thought, if I compromise my real job, I wouldn't have enough money for the second job, my gambling career. This became my ritual each and every day! Go to work, get out and drive to my second job.

Some nights were good and I left with a nice jackpot. This gave me the money I needed to go to the bank on my lunch hour and cover my bills and return the funds taken out of my bank account. When I lost I would sit at my desk, pondering how I was going to get my mojo back. And then the cycle started again. I would head to the casino every night to start my strategy all over again, staking out the blackjack tables and slot machines, determining how much I had and how much I needed to keep afloat for the evening. By the end of my gambling career, I was maintaining a 16-hour work shift practically each day. I considered this a normal way of life, the only way I knew how to live.

I burned myself out mentally, physically, emotionally and of course financially. At the end of five years, I went through all of my finances, credit, maxed my house, and my 401K. But most of all, I lost my soul and who I was spiritually. This knowledge brings me both sadness and joy. Sadness from the damage I created and joy when I realized my higher power led me back to a place where I needed to be. He helped me restore my life to a normal way of thinking and living. I can never take back the years spent, the money lost, the addiction and sickness totally out of control, but today I have the ability to make choices and decisions to do the right thing. The decision to recognize that as a compulsive gambler I can take back my life, work the program and build each new day with promise and belief that life will be good and will get better. This is all I can hope for. And for today I am okay with that.

Vicki B, Arizona
 

GOLD STAR

Hi Marilyn, it’s me and I have gone into a major relapse with my compulsive gambling but hope to begin my recovery over again!

The last two weeks have been bad for me. In fact, last night I went to the casino with a set amount of money and planned to be home by 6:00pm. I left the house around 2:00pm. At 6:00pm I called my husband and told him I would be home shortly. I didn't get home until 2:00am.... The worst thing was that I came home broke and drove 45 miles in a winter advisory because the temperature was minus 24 with a wind chill of minus 30. Thank goodness my car didn't break down and I did make it home safely! When I walked in, my husband (whom I called on the way home to let him know I was on my way) was up looking very worried and yet thankful that I made it home okay.

I told myself that I am a controlled gambler, meaning that I only spend the money that I bring with me. But who am I really kidding? Right? I am a compulsive gambler ... I want to quit sooo bad but going on a controlled budget isn't working!

Today when I got up, all my mind could think about was the different machines with the different bonuses to make more money! At one time last night I was up $100 and yet I put that back in the machines, plus the money I took with me!!! STUPID ME!!!

In two to three months I will have paid off the credit cards that my daughter put us on a budget for! Soooo happy, yet I tell myself that when these are paid off I could celebrate by going to the casino! That was what made the credit cards so high to begin with!

Tomorrow I am starting a calendar by putting gold stars on the days that I don't go to the casino... Last time I went four months without gambling and I hope to achieve a year this time. Thanks for the monthly newsletters and please keep me in your prayers!

Anonymous from Minnesota
 

 

 

 

Gripped by Gambling  

 

The day for the Reno trip finally arrived and six team members traveled in two cars to bowl in the Nationals. After checking into a Vegas hotel, we all took off for the casinos. This time I wasn’t nervous. With all the confidence I could muster, I pranced up to the nickel machines, dropped a few coins into the slot, moved over to the dime machines and then tried the quarter slots. All the machines rewarded me generously. Lady Luck was with me and my friends had to pry me away from the machines when it was time to leave.

The first night in Reno there was no need to read the instructions on the slot machines. I was a pro now. Strangers shared their gambling tricks and I discovered I had what gamblers called, "Beginners Luck." Every machine I played, jackpots tumbled into the metal bowls. I had discovered America and no one could that thrill away from me.

I couldn’t sleep that first night in Reno so I got up at 4:30in the morning and drove downtown. After parking my car, I hurried across the empty street, never giving a thought to being alone in a strange town. Once inside the casino door and before I could change my mind, I scooted over to the cashier and said, “I’d like one hundred silver dollars.” One hundred silver dollars! I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

He smiled and pushed the rack of silver toward me saying, “Good luck lady.”

My hands shook. I dropped the first three dollars into the machine and while holding my breath, I slowly pulled the handle. God, I was scared! More than a hundred coins came rattling down in the metal bowl. I didn’t know what I’d hit but I kept plugging money into the coin slot and the jackpots kept filling the trays. I was so excited, I became nauseous.

After an hour and a half, still shaking I drove back to the motel. I had won more than five hundred dollars. I could quit my job and just gamble, shorter hours and better pay. Surely, something this much fun couldn’t be harmful.

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