How many relapses does it take?
I had gone a full year without gambling, and I didn’t even feel the urge to gamble.
A little while ago, I started a small business, and things have been slowly working out. The problem with starting a business is that, at first, you are the business. That’s where I am right now—without me, there is no company.
I started this week with the flu, which meant I wouldn’t be able to make any sales. And then the terrible thought came to me: “What if I just made this week’s profit by gambling?”
Since I’m on a self-exclusion program, I had to look for an illegal gambling site online. It didn’t take much effort. And, well, you can probably imagine how it ended.
I spent all of yesterday completely numb, gambling. I blew through my business’s working capital, maxed out my credit cards, and even my mother’s cards. She has a medical appointment today, and we can’t even afford to call a rideshare. There isn’t a single cent left.
I come from a poor family. I’ve always been careful and responsible with my money, and I’ve never had any addictions.
I’m completely disappointed in myself. Why do I do this, God? Why is it so hard to accept that I have an addiction?
Anyway, I don’t know how many relapses it takes, but I’ve decided this was my last one.
The last time, I got as far as planning to take my own life. This time, I didn’t. I decided that I’m going to live—and I’m going to live without gambling.
Today, I’m starting my journey again. But God, it’s so hard, and I feel completely broken right now.