Are you having a laugh ?

Just got below comment and it shows I must not be able to deliver the message of this Blog

"hello, i am betfair full-time trader since 4 years and since short time i started to trade for customers with a ROI of 35% per month on average. If you are interested to join me or share trading views dont hesitate add me in msn **********@hotmail.fr or mail me in that adress. good luck on Betting is not the issue"

Either is is some poor misguided lunatic offering to help me beat my compulsions or it's someone with a great sense of humour.

I knew how to trade, I knew the mechanics, but the biggest part of trading was not the mechanics, it was the correct mindset, the ability to cut and lose, the ability to remain emotionally sterile and stable, and if anyone has read previous post they would realise that emotional stability is not one of my stronger points, akin to saying that Hitler wasn't really a nice guy.

The other thing that is slowly returning to me is the ability to find humour in things that would have made me very angry before, the above comment is a case in point, sometimes you gotta laugh, just laugh, but definitely not gamble.

Betting is not the issue

Me again, still a compulsive gambler, still have not had a bet since my last post.

Positives, and green shoots as Dave commented in the previous post. I do not feel compulsions to bet as one might imagine.
Betting compulsions are not what drives my character defects, it is the converse. I manifest my defects by betting and use it as a vehicle of destruction and hide myself away from the real world by entering the fantasy world of gambling.
I have many issues that I have managed to dismiss over a 30 year period, a lot of them in common within our group at GA. Talking to others about how we think, how we rationalize and how we behave causes us to realise that we are not unique, the issues we encounter are not specific to us alone, we are just poorly equipped to deal with them, unable to recognise that we have to approach and deal with them in a manner similar to 99% of mankind.
We are emotionally immature and underdeveloped for whatever reason, I cannot point to a difficult past or childhood, I cannot point to years of abuse or deprivation, I can however identify my inadequacies and learn to deal with them with the tools I am slowly awakening to.
I have a choice, my natural disposition is to focus on the past and my failings, that leads to depression, I can obsess about the future but that will lead to stress. I can live in the now and that will result in me focussing on whatever is actually relevant and not what may or may not happen, and, just for today I will not gamble.

The best of times, the worst of times.

My little voice has returned and the honeymoon is in danger of ending.

The facts are in normal font and my inner voice is in red. I am not justifying or trying to explain it, it's just how my "brain" works, and I fucking hate it.

My name is Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler and have not had a bet since my last post, and that's a fact.


I have handed management of all finances to my wife.
You are too much of an incompetent idiot to be trusted.

I have reached acceptable financial repayment terms with all my creditors.
You are incapable of even the most basic life skills.

My eldest daughter has managed to get a funding to do a PhD.
She doesn't need you any more, in fact she never did.

My wife has blossomed now that I don't try to dictate her thoughts, her actions and everything else in our relationship towards my goals .
She doesn't need you any more, let her go, she'd be better off. 

My youngest daughter is bright, witty and beautiful, now that the tension that accompanied my gambling has left the house .
She'd always have been better off if you weren't there.

The last 4 months have been the most serene I can remember.
What the fuck have you ever done to deserve serenity? You don't deserve hope, you don't deserve happiness, you fuck things up, you always do and you always will, do it now, you know you will eventually. You're a worthless peace of shit that poisons anything near you, don't kid yourself, you WILL fuck it up, you know you will. Why wait, do it now, DO IT NOW,DO IT NOW, DO IT NOW, DO IT NOW.NOBODY WANTS YOU, NOBODY NEEDS YOU, WHY DON'T YOU JUST FUCK OFF AND LEAVE THEM ALONE, THEY ARE BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU.

My head is about to explode, my hands are shaking, but I will prevail, the good me, it has to be in there somewhere, I feel nauseous, I feel weary, but just for today I will not gamble, just for today I will beat this bastard down, just for today. As for tomorrow, I hope it's better.

My name is Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler, and I'm struggling.

One day at a time

Pertinent comment on the previous post. One day at a time, very true. Part of my problem with this is my job requires me to plan in detail for multiple scenarios. That's the way I think and always have done, I'm a planner, but this program requires me to take one day at a time, bit of a conflict there.

I need to start compartmentalising my addiction and try to keep a different mindset than what is required in my professional life. If I cannot do that, then I need to consider my choice of profession. Sounds ridiculous, but when ones mind is programmed to think and analyse on a continuous basis it is exceedingly difficult to try to stop analysing at will. There you go, the Mr Kipling of self analysis, that's me. Exceedingly fucked up.

My name is Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler, I have not had a bet today or since my last post.

The devil makes work for idle hands.

My wife and kids went on a ladies expedition last night, getting schoolware 6 weeks in advance, so I stayed at home. Alone time started at 5:30 pm and it was a long, long evening.

Introspection began and a fidgety mindset kicked in.

It's quite strange really, when I was gambling the only thing I sought was solitude, and I always found it on the sofa, in the front room with the laptop and television on some sporting event or At the Races. I did this for years, a hermit in a bubble of angst and despair. I only emerged to smoke and shit, manufacture a verbal skirmish, and then return to my refuge.

The other place I found solitude in the past was the bookies, even if full of people, it's full of empty people, alone, no one speaks, just a casual grunt of recognition, and then back into the mental foxhole, watch the races, lose more, feel ones spirit ebb like a spring tide, the last race signifying the last bet, the nadir, and the imminent journey home that I hoped would never end.

Now I fear solitude, I hate being alone for too long and 4 hours is too long for me at the moment. I sat down and flicked the remote, ended up on At the Races within 4 channel changes, as my default channel was 415 for years, I dwelt on it for about 30 seconds and moved on. That's all it took, 30 seconds and I wanted to bet, I wanted to fire up this laptop and have a bet. The urge passed and I moved on. It's the first urge to bet I've had in some weeks and it was easy to deny. It was easy to deny because I carry no money, I have a Visa Debit card, but that is for a joint account that has the exact quantity needed for monthly bills and debt repayment with a small surplus for use in case of emergency. My wife puts the rest into an account that only she has access to, and I'm so glad. It's easy not to bet with no money.

It's hard to recognise the fuck up I've become, I can't even be trusted to function as a proper human should. I'm in need of an operating system change, an upgrade from Wanker 9.0 to Decent human being 1.0.

I try to give myself some succour by recognising that I am trying to change 25 years of behaviour in a couple of months and that's difficult. It's also bullshit.

I'm a compulsive gambler, that makes me a liar, a thief, a derelict husband, a derelict father, a derelict son and brother, a narcissistic prick that made the world revolve about himself for 25 years. I say I'm all the above because I'm a compulsive gambler, but deep down I rally think I'm a compulsive gambler because I'm all of the above. Chicken and egg, but the egg is rotten.

My name is Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler, I still have not had a bet today or since my last post, I'm still sick.

Risk and reward.

I've always associated risk and reward as inseparable as yin and yang, as Cheech and Chong, or as The Fonz and latent homosexuality.

The rewards I envisaged as long as I can remember were always grandiose and fantastical, the castle in the sky, infinite wealth, eternal happiness, yada, yada, yada.

Rewards can be small, but significant.

Waking up in the morning without a shroud of dread and despair is a reward.
Looking at my wife and kids without the angst of deceit is a reward.
Re establishing relationships with my family is a reward.
Starting a financial plan is a reward, the duration is long, but the load is bearable.
Looking in the mirror and noticing I need to shave, rather than needing to self immolate is a reward.
Not dreading the postman is a reward.
Being able to think without the entropic distractions of mental chaos is a reward.
Taking a day off to spend with my brother, father or youngest is a reward.
Closing a post to this blog with a smile of contentment, rather than a tear of desperation is a reward,

My name is Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler, I have not had a bet today or since my last post.

All or nothing

One of the definitions of a mature person in the gamblers anonymous handbook is that we have got past the stage where everything is categorized as "All or nothing".

This time 3 months ago I made a conscious rational(?) decision that the money I had available to me would either finish me with gambling or finish me. I decided that I would make back all I had lost through a carefully  managed strategy or I would kill myself, simple as that. The money lasted a few days, and followed the path of all the money before. The fact that I am posting here today is not proof that my brilliant scheme worked, or that that the internet exists in the afterlife, merely the fact I crawled back to GA.

I know how I was going to self destruct, I picked the wall on the route home, the only thing that bothered me was the fact that when the accident investigators reported I hadn't had a safety belt on all insurance would have been null and void. My plan then was to fray the seat belt in an inconspicuous place so that when 16 stones of shit was catapulted at 90 mph it would fail, and I would be no more.

Was that rock bottom ? I hope so, I don't want to get lower, the scariest place I can think of is despair, it's not a defined location, it's nowhere, it's everywhere.

The reason I didn't do it is because I'm a coward, and this simply wasn't the easiest way out. This is a recurring theme at my bi weekly meetings, all of us refer to the fact that we saw gambling as an easy means to making money, success and more pertinently, happiness. All of us seek happiness, not smiley, happy, happiness, we covet internal happiness. The lack of self esteem (warranted ?) permeates the atmosphere, we take pride in each other's accomplishments but never our own. We begin each monologue by staring at the floor, we say "my name is XXXX" and the we glaze over, speak, sometimes good things, often bad things, and we are so similar, the way we think, the way we hate, the way we struggle to love, the things we have done, the things we haven't done, we are all one and the same, like tendrils of a giant hidden organism of fear, loathing and disgust. These meetings are not self pitying, the fact we are here is proof that we don't lean on that crutch any more, we're trying to understand ourselves, we expose our worst deeds and fears, we tell of the good things, but most of all we are proof that survival is possible, redemption is an aspiration, we need each other to remind ourselves that not only are good things possible but that despair, destruction and annihilation are only one bet away. That's all, one bet.

I drove home from Friday night's meeting via the route I had earmarked for my end, I slowed down, safety belt on and drove past, tears vision clouded my vision, I went home and went to bed. One bet Paddy, that's all it takes.

My name is Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler, I have not had a bet today or since my last post, it's a beautiful day, I'm off to the match.