Sounds Like me

Hello, my name is Paddy, I always say I am a compulsive gambler, I have not had a bet since my last post.

I had a birthday during the week, not one that is usually recognised as significant but as it represents about 50% of my expected lifespan I'd say its significant. So half my life has passed, and half of that was dominated by gambling. As a student I spent up to 16 hours a day in the Vic snooker club in Limerick, playing two poker machines simultaneously, the hypnotic beep beep of the high low gamble "feature" was the soundtrack to my student years. My generosity was bottomless, I gave those machines everything, I sacrificed my own well being, my food, my fare for the 80 miles home, I gave them my soul, just to make sure they were full, and kept singing to me, I can still hear it now.

There are other sounds that still stay with me, the sound of a cash machine counting the money, back in the old days, when I frequented the bookies in Ballybricken. It's impossible to explain the surge of relief and ecstasy I felt, just after entering the security number, waiting for the insufficient funds message, then, the glorious whirring, whizzing sound of that machine as the notes danced from some cold repository to my warm hands. What is certain is that it would be gone, quickly and inevitably, but for that few seconds as the machine sang, I rejoiced. To this day when I hear that sound, I feel the sensation, the rush, doped on dopamine.

Another sound that has the opposite effect is the closing of a door. To this day I do not let a door close unless I'm facing it. Why ? If I hear a door close behind my back it transports me to those nights the bookie doors closed behind me, after the last race, and me out. Often I was beaten, but even if I did win I would find some other way or place of relieving myself of the load the winnings represented. The closing of the door represented the return to the real world, the bookies was my Narnia, it was a fantasy word I preferred to inhabit. Even now, when doors close behind me, I shiver, I feel dread, guilt and hopelessness. Thankfully those are transient feelings today, but once upon a time they were my shadow, both awake and asleep.

Anyway, this is not what I had intended posting about, but much like my journey to this stage of my life, I got here and I don't know how. What I intended to write was though I almost have a half century behind me, my real birthday will be on May the first this year. I will have had a year where my every living thought and deed was not driven by a force that I cannot understand, resulting from decisions and choices I made. Somehow I ended up talking about the beep, beep of a poker machine, and the glorious tune of a cash dispenser. I haven't even got to the online stuff, but that's for another post. The funny thing is I'm closing this post but those two sounds define over 20 years of my life, and I can still hear them now, I often do. 

So, fuck this, I'm off to meet 10 or 11 like me . 

I like them, when I mention those sounds , they can whistle them and smile. That's our arrival tune, here's our departure tune.

 Whistle this peeps

Cheltenham time again

It's amazing how quickly one becomes oblivious to events that were once a huge part of ones life when one basically banishes all interaction with an activity such as horse racing. One is also questioning the reason for the use of a third person pronoun to open the post, but one is going to stop using "one" now, if you know what I mean.

I love Cheltenham, I was going to say "loved" but I suspect if I tune in again my love for the event would rekindle very quickly. I love the banter, I love the insightful knowledge displayed by every punter prior to each race. I love the buzz when the tapes go up, with the exception of Manhattan Castle, who reared as the tape went up at the start of a race many moons ago, and dumped all my hopes and dreams on the floor, along with the jockey and all my cash.

I didn't love the feeling of failure I inevitably encountered by the end of the meeting. I hated the emptiness, I hated myself for repeating what I had always done, I hated handing over the last of my money, I hated the lies and the deceit that were required to maintain the veil of normality.

In truth, it was not really the money I was handing over, it was a little part of me, it was a little part of my family and all the things that made life worth living, it was the vestiges whatever humanity I had managed to retain. I had made a deal with the devil, and he was just collecting his dues.

It's hard for a "normal" person to understand the desolation and torment encountered by those of a similar disposition to me when all the fanciful hopes evaporate. The first reaction is one of disbelief, then fear and then emptiness. Desolation is a very difficult place to live but an easy place to find, time is irrelevant, life is irrelevant and the only thing I wanted was for it to end, but that was then.

I still would love to be able to watch a race, and amaze others with my insight and intelligence. I would love to be able to put on a tenner and not continue to bet with a reckless abandon. I can't and I accept that now, but the hankering still lingers.

The desire to partake is not as strong as desire to continue on the path I have found myself on. I will  not return to desolation and darkness. It's too easy to find and too hard to escape. Gambling can be an interest or a pastime for some, but it's my heroin, it thrills me and destroys me. Not gambling means I can be a person, with purpose, with hopes, with a life worth living.

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

Down Time

Its been a strange few days in that my general outlook has been quite poor since last Friday. During the past few months I have had inevitable periods of remorse and self recrimination, but not for sustained periods as I am learning to spot the triggers and change my outlook.

This has not been the case since last Friday. It's hard to put my finger on it but I feel low, and am in a constant state of hyper analysis, self recrimination and self loathing. These are all the mindsets I had through 25 years of gambling and the ones I need to avoid. Although I know this, I cannot seem to shake it. I'm eschewing the companionship of others, and dwelling on the negatives of my past.

It would be simple to say that the past is gone, and I'm now on a new road, but I cannot convince myself of this. The evidence of my gambling is eminently visible, and the consequences accompany me every day now and for the foreseeable future. I would be naive to expect the sins of my past not to haunt me, but I'm finding it difficult at the moment as they occupy my every waking moment. My sleep pattern has reverted to 2/3 hours per night and my willingness to share and get involved with normal life is diminishing rapidly. My thought process is becoming increasingly disordered and cluttered. I cannot focus and it's bothering me. This is how my head operated when I was gambling, I do not feel like betting, but I do not feel alive. I feel as if I'm a disembodied soul wondering aimlessly, devoid of purpose or emotion.

This is unfair on those around me, but I cannot seem to make myself care.

Below is part of the roadmap to recovery as recommended in the GA handbook.

Liabilities — Watch for         Assets — Strive for

Self-pity                                 Self-forgetfulness

Self-justification                      Humility

Self-importance                      Modesty

Self-condemnation                  Self-valuation

Dishonesty                             Honesty

Impatience                             Patience

Hate                                      Love

Resentment                            Forgiveness

False pride                             Simplicity

Jealousy                                Trust

Envy                                     Generosity

Laziness                                Activity

Procrastination                       Promptness

Insincerity                             Straightforwardness

Negative thinking                   Positive thinking

Vulgar, immoral                     High minded, spiritual

Trashy thinking                     Clean thinking

Criticizing                             Look for the good

Despite my efforts over the past few days I am lingering on the liability side of the table. As stated above, this is not an infrequent occurrence but the longevity of the current episode is concerning me.

The more likely explanation is that of a self indulgent idiot finally facing the realities for his past, and not liking the truth. To paraphrase Dot Cotton -You cannot go forwards if you are forever looking backwards. I think I'm revisiting the scene of my crimes, seeking absolution from my self, but deep down I know I don't deserve it.

I need to redouble my efforts, I need to be an asset, I will not continue to be a liability.

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

Any wonder I lost a fortune ?

Just realised that Jan 1st meant it was 8 months since I had a bet not the 9 months I claimed.

A basic requirement for success for every gambler or trader is the ability to calculate profit / loss, the fact that I got lost in the count from 1 to 9 may be a pointer to another reason I was a spectacular failure, may be I'm not a compulsive gambler after all, just a dumb fuck.

Anyway, my name is Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler and arithmetically illiterate, what a combnation (that should read combination so, QED).

New Year, New me ?

A common question around this time of year and my answer is that I hope not. I already tried to create a new me in mid 2013 so I'll continue to work on that, thank you very much.

January 1st marked 9 month for me since I had a bet.

9 months is enough time for a baby to grow and develop and be presented to the big bad world.

Is 9 months enough for me?

I'm not ready to leave the protection afforded to me by Gamblers Anonymous. I need frequent meetings to remind me that I've made progress, but the dark world I inhabited whilst gambling still exists. It's out there, just past the cervix. If I leave my womb, a whole new world will open up for me, one I could not resist before, a world promising untold riches and happiness, a world that delivers fear and despair. I don't want a ticket to that world, it's one way for me.

I like it in my womb, my 9 months may have elapsed, but I'm staying in, for as long as I stay here I will continue to be safe and happy. I spent 25 years bereft and broken, I think I'll stay here for as long as I can.

My name is Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler, I haven't had a bet today or since my last post, I'm some man.

What to do ?

Hello again, 'tis I, the compulsive one.

No bets, but the amount of time I now have available is beginning to concern me. I am stunned by the huge portion of my life that was consumed by the activity of gambling, thinking about gambling and other destructive activities associated with gambling. Put quite simply, I have loads of time and energy that needs channelling. I spent long enough wasting these resources so now I need to find something productive that will have a tangible benefit.

I have always toyed with the idea of creative writing, and the more I mull over it the more attractive it seems. The problem is, the only projects that appeal to me tend to be dark, and not exactly uplifting.

Here's the type of subject matter I was considering.

I love the idea of a tale along the lines of American Psycho but from the perspective of an Irish rural psycho, and the worst thing is I feel I could assume the perspective of the narrator quite easily.

I am also intrigued by the concept of a stage play, loosely in the format of 12 Angry Men but in the environment of a Gamblers Anonymous meeting, with 12 monologues charting the the progression of a member or members, along the road to recovery, or failure. I'm a bit uncomfortable with this one as I feel it may be a betrayal of the kinship of the members of  GA, and strangely enough I seem to have a loyalty towards the fellowship. That in itself is progression for me, the fact that I have even a hint of loyalty show I have grown emotionally from the husk that I became when I was gambling incessantly.

I love the idea of a farce, based in the world of corporate bullshit with extreme characters demonstrating the ridiculousness of it all, and based on my experience the exaggeration required may not be as significant as one might think.

All of the above are fanciful and probably just a bow towards my proclivity towards escapism, and an overestimation of my literary skills.

I still have a nagging feeling I should direct my energies towards formal education and attain some kind of an academic qualification. I could probably do it through my employment, but, keep finding reasons not to do it. I'm trying to identify the cause of the reluctance but I think it's because I will discover I'm not capable of succeeding.
I attended college for years but never passed final exams. I abdicated blame for this failure in another post by highlighting the fact I was a compulsive gambler during this period, but it's a convenient excuse to hide the fact I may not be intellectually capable of success. Gamblers are escapists, and I managed to convince myself through the years I was intelligent, but if I strip away all the bullshit I have no proof.
I am learning to accept my emotional deficiencies by attending GA, but I'm not so sure I will accept my intellectual failures quite so easily.

What to do ? I don't know, but I'm still Paddy, I'm a compulsive gambler, and a confused one at that.

Higher Power ?

Step 11 of the "recovery" program is

"Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out. "

This is a bit of a dilemma for me as I'm not religious, I only associate prayer with desperation or seeking forgiveness, and those are two mindsets I'm avoiding. As soon as I hear reference to God I tend to tune out, but, at a recent meeting I was interested to hear the other members describe their higher power as something other than a deity, it is whatever the person wants it to be.

I do a lot of walking now with our new puppy, and I speak to him as we walk, yip, I told you I was nuts, but I have decided he is going to be my power, but, by virtue of his size, a lower power.

On another note, I noticed last night that I now have the same hands as my father, if only the rest of me was similar, life would be a more noble journey.

Anyway, no bet since the last post, aren't I the great fellow ?