Just so you know

When I read back on these posts I can see how ridiculous they can be, I am aware of it but I'm trying to demonstrate the thought process of an addict as he tries to rationalise, blame others and abdicate responsibility. I want to put it in writing so, when I read back I will spot the warning signs as I start to try to find excuses to gamble again, as demonstrated in previous posts.

Sunday 10 June 2012

1 We accept criticism gratefully, being honestly glad for an opportunity to improve.

Hello, my name is Paddy, I am a compulsive gambler, I have had no bet today or since my last post.

Thanks to those who left comments of support yesterday. Life is kinda funny sometimes and other times less so. I have posted updates on my previous BLOG at similar times to this with rants and rancour about every possible subject, usually after staying up most of the night and finding some way to lose a shed load of cash.

One commentator mentioned the success of walking past a bookie, that was never an issue as my "bookie" is the instrument I am typing on now. I used to sit watching sport, all forms of sport all non working hours with my laptop open (on youtube, or some other innocuous site) waiting for an opportunity to make a fortune  and display my superior sporting knowledge. I often did, and then blew it on race 10 in Belmont 20 minutes later.

I am only awake now because of the fact I collected my daughter from nights and had an espresso while waiting, so that is progress. I am not tied up in waves of anguish and nausea after another night of fuckology, just wide awake and bored shitless. Rather than surf the net (too early to be looking for free porn) I am reading the little red GA handbook and addressing some  of the content.

For the few days I'm concentrating on "the definition of a mature person".

1 We accept criticism gratefully, being honestly glad for an opportunity to improve.

My response, I do in my arse. I am always right and consider myself highly intelligent.

I think it is part of the defence mechanism that evolves in a gamblers warped psyche, because if we started to value the insights and observations of others as per our behaviour it would remove the delusion that our behaviour is normal. It is not normal to know the odds on every market pre match, it is not normal to be able to predict the prices in running based on a variety of circumstances. It is not normal to know that Pivotals (sire) excel on soft ground. It is not normal to know that Dandy Nichol's strike rate for top weights in Handicaps between March and August is almost zero, but from August on they strike with alarming regularity. It is not normal to know the percentage of goals a given team scores or concedes in the last 15 minutes of a  game before the fucking game even starts. This is my "expertise", indeed my omniscience often amazes me, this is how I bore the shit out of my "mates" quoting every price possible while their eyes glaze over as all I can talk about are the fucking prices of everything.

True that saying, I know the price of everything but the value of nothing.

I have "mates" in inverted commas as I have managed to surround myself over the years with people that suit my condition. This is back to the criticism issue, my mates are either compulsive gamblers like me or people who don't care enough about me to offer criticism, however warranted. We are comfortable in our bubble of self destruction knowing that if we lose it is not our fault, it's the ref, the jockey, the guy that drove the horse box or the fucker that watered the track. The fault will always lie elsewhere, never with us.

I have a relatively close family by many standards, but as a gambler I have managed to distance myself from them, it's a deliberate insidious process that begins almost subliminally and culminates in a sterile "relationship". Why, I don't want criticism, I want distance because deep down somewhere I know my personality and addiction has turned me into someone who doesn't really give a fuck about anyone else or their lives, all I care about is the next bet, the next way to lose money. I have emotional indigestion, I cannot listen to peoples issues or problems, highs or lows because all I care about the the next race, the next match, the next penalty or the next dwarf snot rolling competition. I have even become jealous of their successes and achievements, things I should revel in, but, as it highlights my own inadequacies I become cynical instead of proud. I'm a twenty first century gollum, I'm obsessed by myself and all my precious goals.

These traits are abhorrent in other people yet I have evolved to represent all these things. I have to learn to feel emotions again, to love, to hate (that's not an issue) and to accept things for what they are. Sanguinity (is that a real word ?) is my new goal, if someone tells me some home truths I must listen, I am not cleverer than everyone else, I am not wise, I am not insightful, I need to redevelop some emotions, I need to accept others for what they are, I need to grow again.

I have considered these things in the past, the difference this morning is I am not lost in a well of self pity, crying incessantly, I am merely stating facts, I have to accept what I am, not why I am.
One of the great quotes I heard recently was, "if you spend all your time looking back, you will never look forward". That was stated by the great philosopher Dot Cotton on Eastenders.

ps, I'm really looking forward to the Ireland game tonight, I don't know the odds, I don't know the prices of the first /second/ last goalscorer and at this moment I don't fucking care. I just want to watch it with all the others and scream like an idiot, not because I have just lost another wedge of money,  just because it'll be fun.

Feel free to help me or criticise me, I will ignore you but at least I'm trying. Sorry about the train of thought and lack of structure of the above post, it's 8 am and I'm full of caffeine and hope, quite a potent mix.

Anyway, my name is Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler, I have fucked up my life, now I'm going to fix it.

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