Confessions of a Compulsive Gambler

A personal account of the highs and lows of gambling addiction

If you eat one meal a day and it’s a buffet, you might be a compulsive gambler.

That odd, little nugget of wisdom dawned on me while I was wallowing in misery in front of an overloaded plate of tamales and tacos and taters and gravy. Gambler, me? A compulsive gambler? Hmmm.

I guess it takes one to know one. Yep. I had to lose thousands of dollars and countless hours of sleep before I could finally come to grips with my addiction. And at the buffet table, no less. At least the hot chocolate refills were free.

Oh, I had me some grand times. Vegas, Reno, Elko, Mesquite, Wendover. Nevada casino towns that called my name. I played roulette for up to 14 straight hours at a stretch. I never even left the table to take a leak.

I was too zoned in on the game. One time a busty babe sitting next to me at the blackjack table was literally rubbing her hands all over my body, and all I could think about was my next bet. Nothing personal. But while I was gambling, sex never crossed my mind.

As long as I had chips, nothing else mattered. I was completely in tune with my inner gambler. That sense of escapism must have been the draw, the thing that sucked me in again and again. It couldn’t have been possible that I actually wanted to throw away all of my money.

Or did I? During my travels, I met a once-wealthy oil man who literally lost millions to the casinos. By the time I stumbled upon him, he was relying on the generosity of a well-heeled friend just to stay off the streets. His sad story did not save me.

I was hooked. I adored the casinos. The glitz of the lights, the sounds of the slots, the hope in the air. It all made me feel so alive.

Gambling thoughts monopolized my ADD-addled brain. Daily rituals that most people relish, or at least tolerate, were unbearably boring to me. The only excitement I could find was of the Ace-King kind. I used to calculate roulette payouts while I was brushing my teeth. It was bad.

Oh, I didn’t always lose. Sometimes I won – and won big. But the casinos call their table areas “pits” for a reason. The more I won, the deeper my happy, little gambling hobby sank into a dark and dangerous compulsion.

I literally couldn’t stay away. I always gave back everything I’d won, and then some. At one point, I was actually using my Nevada casino winnings to buy Idaho lottery tickets.

That sounds crazy, I know. But is it any crazier than eating all your meals at a buffet? Not really. The crazy part is that I don’t really feel bad about any of it. I saw my share of weird things and weirder people along the way. And yes, I lost a ton of money.

But hey, what do you expect? I’m a compulsive gambler.

Some Sobering Statistics

• 15 million people display some sign of gambling addiction
• “Players” with household incomes under $10,000 bet nearly three times as much on lotteries as those with incomes over $50,000
• The average debt incurred by a male pathological gambler in the U.S. is between $55,000 and $90,000 (it is $15,000 for female gamblers)
• The suicide rate for pathological gamblers is twenty times higher than for non-gamblers (one in five attempts suicide)
• Sixty-five percent of pathological gamblers commit crimes to support their gambling habit

(Source: http://www.overcominggambling.com)

If you want to seek help to overcome your gambling addiction, visit the National Council on Problem Gambling’s Web site: http://www.ncpgambling.org.