"A good scare is worth more to a man than good advice." -- Edgar Watson Howe

I feel so indifferent

I attended a women’s GA meeting at least two times in the past few years. I saw hope at the meeting and also heard people talk of their relapse. That terrified me. Hearing of relapse from people with 5-10 years into recovery made me wonder if I could succeed. Since first realizing that I have a problem, I have gradually gotten worse. Once at the casino I usually win ... then lose. Sound familiar? Putting myself on the self-ban list last year, I thought I would be too fearful to enter a casino again. I didn't for months. When I broke that barrier, they didn't throw me out ... not at all.

After continuing to waste my time and money there, I did win big (a few thousand) ... which I couldn't collect, because the last thing I want my husband to do is pick me up at jail for trespassing. I feel so indifferent. I used to feel so guilty. Now I just think I'll make it up next time ... which I usually do. Of course, I then walk out the door with just change in my pocket. I know I can't continue this way.

I have spoken with my family and have asked for help; I think my husband doesn't want us to work together on my gambling, because he has his own areas in life that he may have to change if I do. I think that he'd rather have me weak, so that porn/strip clubs are all good for him to seek out and do. Seeking change myself may encourage him to seek change, as well. God grant me the will to change. My inner voice tells me not to gamble. The other voice said you can have MORE money if you go ... just leave sooner than you usually do. I made a big $20, a little thrill, lost the $20 and all my other money for bills.

Life is going two different ways. One way, with supportive family involvement, the other digging myself into a bigger hole. I'd like to take pride in my life, family and home … live with integrity. For the most part I did this before gambling addiction. Now I'm a liar.

Sorry for the rambling ... just wanted to purge a bit ... I truly do not have the desire to quit that I did at my first meeting. Knowing I cannot continue like this and not knowing of a better resource, I seek your site, Women Helping Women. You've encouraged many women, and I appreciate your being there for all these years. Keep up the good work. You make a difference. Keep me in your prayers ….

Anonymous 

                  

 

  I knew I couldn’t do that by myself


In the summer of 1995, finally understanding that decades of gambling – most of my life – had finally led to “a problem,” I decided I had to do something. I had been trying off and on for years to “control” my gambling. I had very few, if any, illusions about any ability to stop gambling; I would have settled for “control.” Anyway, I thought I had given up on the control delusion, which meant I would have to stop. I knew I couldn’t do that by myself, so I did something! I had known of the existence of Alcoholics Anonymous for as long as I could remember, so I thought, “Maybe there’s a ‘Gamblers Anonymous.’” I opened the massive Phoenix telephone directory and turned to the Gs.

Sure enough, I found a listing for Gamblers Anonymous! I made note of the number on a piece of white, 3x5 notepaper and carefully placed it in a compartment of my purse. Finally, I had done something! Mind you, I didn’t dial the number. But I knew I had it; I knew exactly where it was located. On the rare occasions when I cleared out the mess in my purse and saw the paper, I didn’t throw it away. I put it right back in the “right” compartment. Thanks to my long, dependable credit history, the limits on my credit cards were ludicrously huge, considering my modest income. So I played the game of musical cards and racked up a truly impressive debt load.

The people I was close to didn’t understand how gambling could be such a problem for me. “Just stop doing it,” almost all of them said to me at one time or another – over and over. I couldn’t fault them for not understanding; I didn’t understand either. I wasn’t pouring anything down my throat or snorting anything up my nose or shooting anything into my veins. I was just pushing a button that read, “Max Bet.” When you and your S.O. mutually agree that “our song” is now Annie Lennox singing, “Why,” you know you’re in serious trouble. “ … I may be mad; I may be blind; I may be viciously unkind: but I can still read what you’re thinking; … why can’t you see this boat sinking ….”

A year or so after I looked it up, I dialed the GA Hotline number. A gruff-voiced man named “Richie” talked with me as long as I would put up with it – not that long, but I learned the location, day and time of the most reachable GA meeting. Something, probably nothing, prevented me getting to the meeting that first Thursday night, but I was there the following Thursday. I didn’t want to be there. I probably didn’t even want to stop gambling; I think – as a WHW reader said in an email several years ago – I just wanted to stop losing.

My first meeting was August 1, 1996. Fortunately, I was so broke by then that I wasn’t able to relapse all that often and the numbers were small; I had no access to any significant money! Better for me that way. I took varying, always lengthier, periods of time off from gambling. But I never took time off from GA. When I gambled, and it was usually just one trip to the casino … no money! … I always told on myself, all the next week at my various meetings. It was probably my Higher Power, Whom I choose to call God, who educated me to know that people couldn’t pray effectively for me, if they didn’t know what was going on with me.

It took me approximately 19 months to accumulate 12 months of continuance abstinence from gambling. But I just had to prove I had another bet it me, so 19 months after I celebrated a year, I took another trip to the casino. Now, I still get a warm fuzzy when it occurs to me that “I haven’t gambled in this millennium!” My first meeting after my last bet was 11 years ago last October.

I proved over and over that I couldn’t get stopped and stay stopped from gambling by myself. I owe the time and recovery I have to GA and its members, the God of my understanding, and the God-given common sense to keep going to meetings.

Best wishes to all, One Day at a Time.

Betty C., AZ, U.S.A.

We promised each other, God, and our children that we would not gamble anymore. (Second of a two-part article.)

From Part 1: When we had to ‘bomb’ the house over the weekend to rid it of termites, we finally piled all the kids into the Suburban, and rented two rooms. It wasn't safe for us at our house, and it was only $8 or 10 per room, per night. If we had only known how expensive that trip was really going to be. Cathy’s story continues.

We decided to take early retirements, and move to southern Arizona. We had always loved Arizona and had many happy, family-style vacations here, before compulsive gambling gripped us. But when we moved to Vail, a little town on the edge of Tucson, we soon discovered four casinos within 30 minutes of our new home. We had hoped to find part-time jobs, but our age and the economy were not going along with that idea. We still had our two youngest in school, and another soon followed us to Tucson, due to the economy in California.

We moved to Arizona in the Fall of 2006. By February 2010, we had depleted a Deferred Comp Retirement account of my husband's, my IRAs, and our savings; our home equity was eaten by the economy. We were deeply in debt. I experienced what must be a black-out on my last gambling day. I had absolutely no recollection of the number of times I had cashed a counter-check at the casino cage. I had written checks, with no money to cover them. My soul-mate and I said the most horrible, awful things to one another.

Planning my suicide for over nine months, unbeknown to my family, I saw no way out. I figured I had become worse than my husband, and he was probably stronger and would survive. The pension he had left should feed the kids and him. My pension was gone. We could not sleep. We had borrowed money from relatives to cover the bad checks. One night I stayed up late and went on-line on the computer. I found Marilyn's book, Gripped by Gambling, on Amazon; when it arrived, I read it cover to cover in one sitting. I went to her website and read everything. I asked my husband to read Marilyn’s book, too. He said, "We are sick puppies; we need help," and I agreed. 

I said, "There are stories here about people who made it; maybe we can too." I clicked on the Gamblers Anonymous link on the WHW website. We copied the times and addresses of the available meetings in the Tucson area. We attended 2-3 meetings a week for almost a year. We also had many meetings in our home with just the two of us, and faithfully worked the steps.
Prior to our first meeting, we went back to church. As we are Catholics, we went to confession and received Communion. We believe God -- our Higher Power -- gave us the courage we needed to go to our first meetings. We have found the wedding vows we shared on August 21, 1971 to be a fountain of mercy and forgiveness for us both. We are grateful for this journey.
To commemorate one year of abstinence from gambling, we pinned each other on February 25, 2011. We agreed to assist our wonderful GA Brother, Gary B. in starting a Thursday Night Meeting in Tucson that focuses on Therapy and the Steps. Marilyn graciously accepted our invitation to be our first guest speaker on April 7th. Just doing it "one day at a time," 28 compulsive gamblers attended the 1st meeting.

This long story is from my heart to yours. Just open that door and go to a meeting ... your life depends on it. "It works, if you work it, because you are worth it!"
 

Cathy B
Arizona, USA

 

The Symbolic Train  

(Here is the first paragraph of an article which will be printed in the July Issue of Women Helping Women)

The story begins with my trip on Christmas morning to Las Vegas. Wearing a red Santa hat, I checked into my room and then went to the Casino and began gambling on the slot machines. I didn’t have all that many dollars with me, but the dollars were lost into the machines. Walking back across the Casino floor towards the elevators, I had only a few quarters in my hand. There went those few quarters into the corner slot. “What was going on with this machine?” I asked myself, “was it broke?” “No” someone answered “You hit the jackpot”. Then hundreds and hundreds of bills were put into my hand. What a wonderful feeling I had, one which I never experienced before. It was those hundreds that provided me the means to continue to gamble and experience that feeling of true exhilaration. Then something happened, I lost all the money I had won, but the wonderful feeling nevertheless stayed. It didn’t matter that I arrived home with ten cents in my purse. Very soon, I took a ride on my ‘symbolic train’ which started at my front door and arrived inside a local Casino. Inside the Casino, I began to play the slots. Oh, what a feeling that wonderful feeling took over my entire being. It didn’t matter if I won or lost, for I was in action. I had escaped into an unreal world.

Audrey, Arizona

 

                    Hulen's Hope Opens!

 

 

 

Hulen's Hope in Scottsdale, Arizona, the first gambling specific treatment center for female problem and compulsive gamblers in the United States, is now open! The treatment center is dedicated to the memory of Don Hulen, whose support and understanding of the female gambler will never be forgotten. 

Hulen's Hope offers women an environment where they can focus on their own recovery. Women need a specialized program to build sustained recovery from gambling and any underlying issues. At Hulen's Hope, we provide a program design specifically for female problem and compulsive gamblers.

This program offers mental health services through ABC Wellness Centre, financial services, spiritual counseling, health and fitness programs, access to Gamblers Anonymous meetings, vocational services, and a women mentoring women format.  If you would like more information about the admissions criteria or would like to schedule an assessment please contact Jolene Baney at (480) 381-6733 or jobaney@cox.net.

 

 

 

 

Gripped by Gambling  

I glanced around the tiny cell and saw a small window beyond reach, a steel toilet, and an iron bed covered with a wafer-thin mattress . . . . and an even thinner pillow.  The bed, a small steel table, and a metal chair were bolted to the floor.  Lifeless gray cinder blocks magnified the cold in the room.  I looked for a blanket to wrap around me because I still shivered from the shower.  No blanket and no one to ask.

I pressed myself into the thin mattress and hugged my knees. Someone finally put a stop to my insanity and the lies could end.  I tried to piece together where or when my problem actually began but I couldn’t come up with answers so I lay there and cried until no more tears came.

 Both books are available on Amazon.com

Questions about this site?
Ask the Webmaster: Denise DeSio

  gamblers have visited this site! Keep helping each other!