I can clearly remember the pain and confusion of my gambling days.

At times it seems like yesterday and other times it's like an eternity has passed since I last gambled. Before compulsive gambling, life was good to me. I lived in a beautiful home, loved my family, and had a great job. I didn't get up one morning and say, "Gee I think I'll become a compulsive gambler."
One weekend I drove to Reno on a bowling tournament with my friends and won a couple of jackpots. At first it was fun, but within a few months gambling took control of my life. I didn't believe I had a real problem because I only gambled on weekends. But I discovered after joining GA that during the week I constantly thought about my weekend escape to the casinos. Toward the end of my gambling I began to hide not only my losses but my wins as well. If I left the casino breaking even, it was a wasted trip. I began lying and cheating. I told myself I wasn't hurting anyone; it was my money, and I deserved to "get away for a few days." Life was a constant battle between racing to Laughlin each weekend, feeling guilty on the way home, and then planning next week's excursion. The 3 hour ride to Laughlin on Saturday mornings and 3 hours home on Sunday nights--and the insanity in between --became my lifestyle for 7 years.

My tremendous guilt forced me to build a wall around myself so no one would know what I was doing. What a terribly painful secret to carry alone. The only thoughts I shared were, "I almost won the big one; I had two sevens in a row and the third one was just ready to join them. I know I'm going to win--this machine is ready to pay off." I became an "almost winner." Whenever I bought a gift or any item, the cost was figured as "a rack or two" or "a rack and a half." I never used the word dollars.

I had access to the company's checking account and when I had run through all my money, I began forging my boss's signature on checks. Over a period of years, I embezzled a huge amount of money to support my gambling habit. When my crime was discovered, my lawyer suggested I turn my home, my retirement, and my life savings over to my victim. He told me I could be sentenced from two to twenty-four years in prison.

Because there were no GA meetings where I lived, I moved to a city two hundred miles away, while waiting for my sentencing. After I had attended meetings for five months, the courts notified me of my sentencing date, and several GA members drove the two hundred miles to support me in the courtroom. The judge sentenced me to the minimum of two years and at the age of sixty-one, I experienced four police officers slipping handcuffs on my wrists and escorting me through the prison gates.

While incarcerated, I spent ten months writing in my diary and examining my character defects. Beneath many layers of denial and lies, I found the real me and today I love the person I have become.

My priorities today are: to not gamble, "One day at a time," to be honest and opened-minded, and to give back to the GA program what was generously given to me. Today I can hold my head high. When I look at you, I see you; and when you talk to me, I hear you. I couldn't do these when I gambled. My coping skills have grown and I no longer need gambling to survive challenges. Today my highs are from natural sources and not from gambling and my greatest high is watching a newcomer grow in the program. And I know that I can do anything I want to do today--except gamble. I have a great relationship with my higher power and I don't need to pray for the "big one" or "just let me get even and I'll quit." And I don't ever want to have to stop gambling again.

Joy