The ‘Weeds & Roses’ of my VLT Addiction

-With excerpts from my book, “A Place Where Weeds & Roses Grow”
Joan S., Calgary, Canada

(Vegas 1989)
After a quick lesson on how to deposit coins and pull the lever of a “One-armed Bandit,” I became all but oblivious to life around me. It was as though I’d entered a new dimension of reality, wandered across some invisible threshold to a magical realm where only my new friends and I existed. I thought of the slot machines not as mere inanimate objects, but rather like living “things” capable of stimulating interaction.

Drawn into the perpetual flow of colorful motion I soon found myself inside the machine. And it would be there, on a miniature stage, within the colorful screen of a Las Vegas slot machine, unbeknownst to me, that I would make my debut as a compulsive gambler.

It was entirely engrossing; the anticipation of a win was constant, gripping my senses with such intensity that I would nearly drown in adrenaline. A mere drop of a coin followed by a quick pull on a lever produced an instantaneous high. Watching…waiting
…pretty colors and shapes spinning, spinning…Oh, please, please, please…! It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It was as though I’d discovered some wonderful, new drug and could not get it into my veins fast enough.

                                                          ***

(Calgary AB 1994)
I placed in my lap the white Styrofoam bowl I had filled with one-dollar coins from the dispenser and inserted a handful of them into the slot. I selected the one game I was familiar with and pressed the spin button. Five purple plums lined up in a perfect row. The red light atop my machine sprang to life, flashing on and off as my credits tick-tick-tick-tick-ticked their way up to two hundred fifty. Several players congratulated me. What a fabulous feeling! And on my very first spin!

I admired my score a time before resuming play with the hope of winning even more. Five of a kind lined up three more times in near-perfect succession. Each time, I gazed up in wonder at my little red light, basking in the crimson glow of victory as though the Lord himself were shining down on me. My exquisite, red rose…

                                                           ***

Often customers paid cash for merchandise and before long, temptation was once again pounding at my door. It became a constant battle to resist the readily available cash, and eventually, the day came when I could resist no more.

                                                           ***

My struggle to maintain the house holed finances continued. Telephone bills had become astronomical with my excessive phone calls. All hours of the day and night I telephoned my parents long-distance, lamenting, over my financial woes, concocting long, drawn-out stories to explain the latest crisis. Every once in a while it would pay off, but never often enough.

More often than not I managed to fend off utility disconnection notices only at the last possible minute. Food continued to be a rarity, and my husband had become a virtual stranger. Life was really beginning to work.

The magnitude of my predicament became even more evident when I was forced to resort to shoplifting for bare necessities, such as deodorant. Considering the amount of time I spent sweating in front of the old slot machine, it was one item I simply had to have.

Whenever I was out in public, I’d stare at women’s purses, and have mini-fantasies about snatching one or two and then racing off to the nearest slot machine. My heart would pound so hard at my ears that all sound around me would become muted. I felt wretched and crazy and wished I could just vanish from the face of the earth.

                                                         ***
I shivered all the way home. Never in a million years could I have imagined that I would one day discover first-hand how a prostitute earns her money.

Reluctantly, I peered into the mirror. I did not expect it to be kind to me, as it seldom was in recent months (perhaps years), but this time it caught me by surprise. I hardly recognized myself. The worry lines that had been gradually building around my eyes were suddenly deep and very telling. I could practically see my latest sin there. And my once pretty, blue-green eyes appeared only sad and tired now. Perhaps I should not have been so surprised…After all, I now only looked on the outside as I’d been feeling on the inside for so very, very long.

I looked thinner than ever, which became only more apparent when I removed my clothing. My skin was paler than usual and looked so strange, as it was pulled taut over my every muscle and bone. I looked half starved. The bathroom scale told me I’d lost weight. But I already knew that. Stepping into the shower, I bowed my heard to receive the crown of warm water; it was like a gift, my tears mingling with the gentle flow of liquid as thought they never existed at all. And for a brief moment in time—for one incredible beautiful, merciful moment—everything was okay…

…And then the moment was gone, and with every fiber of my being I prayed to God, pleading with him to wash away my shameful sins.

                                                         ***
(Not from my book)
And then perhaps the only true rose…my first Gamblers Anonymous meeting. Thanks to the healing power of God and this extraordinary 12-step program, I am well on my way to recovery. One day at a time, for two thousand-seven hundred-sixty nine days, I have enjoyed this long and winding road with all its many challenges and rewards.
    

HELP!  I need to have you ladies send in some articles for the Newsletter.  I need articles from gamblers and from counselors.  Thank you,  Marilyn        

                Let Go and Let God.

As children bring their broken toys with tears for us to mend,

I brought my broken dreams to God, because he was my friend.

But then, instead of leaving him in peace, to work alone,

I hung around and tried to help, with ways that were my own.

At last, I snatched them back and cried,

"How can you be so slow?"

                                        "My child, He said, "What could I do?"

                                         You never did let go."

 

                                         Author Unknown.

 

     

. . . I sat for hours watching the phone . . .

 

My name is Sharon and I am a compulsive gambler with no gambling to report.  As I write this I am 363 days from my last bet and God willing and working my program, I will be one year free from gambling on Thursday 25th October.

One year ago tonight I lay awake all night pondering on finding money to play the fruit machines.  I needed at least £500 to make the visit worthwhile.  Just to make you understand my state of mind, I did not go to the machines to win money it was to hide from life.  I had been unable to live in the real world for about 3 years and that is when I made a failed suicide attempt which resulted in a breakdown. I thought I had recovered, however was later to discover through this program, that I had only hidden in my new escape of gambling. If I found £500 that would mean that I could go to the arcade and stay there until it closed without having to deal with any issues or speak to anyone in my family who may have made demands on me. I was absolutely exhausted with life and I had found somewhere I could be at peace.

Only this time something had changed.  I was starting to realize that by escaping I had put my life on hold and had a bigger mess to cope with and did not know a way out. I struggled over the next few days and then decided I had to change, either give in and kill myself only get it right this time or find a way to deal with life and people. Fortunately I decided to make a call to my dad, a fellow GA member. He was not home and my mum forgot to pass on the message that I had called. I sat for hours watching the phone and eventually I gathered the courage to call again.  I had to do this or I may have killed myself. This time my dad answered and I said that I needed help. All he said was that he would pick me up the next day and take me to a meeting. What a relief!  I had told someone I had a problem and now the hard work began.  I had to be mature and responsible but this was better than not existing. I was at my rock bottom and listened to everything I was told. I changed daily routines to avoid spare dangerous times.  I went to as many meetings as possible - about 5 a week for the first three months. I felt that I was in intensive care and needed all the medicine that was offered to make me stronger, to make changes and understand how it worked. It was like the Footprints story, someone was carrying me through and I came out the other side stronger and happier.

I have grown as an adult and am now capable of being the wife, mother and grandmother I had put on hold for those miserable years. I am beginning to find that I have opinions and can decide what I think is right and wrong without outside influences (something I had never done being brought up in a household fuelled with drink and gambling).  I had always known what to say to avoid a row or push buttons when people really annoyed me. I am now working daily on striving for a better life and the serenity I have found is mine to keep and when this is disturbed I work on this immediately. I am so happy that I have found GA and the difference it has made to me and my life is something that I could never express fully. I am grateful to the members of the Tuesday Patrick Group and my own group, Friday Bath Street, for all their help and support this year as these two meetings were the ones I chose to go to regularly as I identified with people and have found the help needed for me at the moment.

Sharon in Scotland

. . . I had to reach out for help . . .

In the infancy stages of my addiction, several years ago... I remember winning big at the casino in Mid December and purchasing extravagant gifts for family and friends. By the time the following Christmas arrived my habit had progressed into such a horrid state that I …never left the casino until everything I won and money I had brought…. Was squandered. All that money fed into the machine, realizing that gambling is not about money. I found myself numb of any human feelings and I knew that I was on the brink of losing my family, had no more good ole friends left, lost my executive job, lost my self respect, my values, morals, flushed an excellent credit rating, ignored serious health issues…and lost the trust, security and the loving relationship I had built and valued and shared with my kids all their lives. What a disaster.

Three Christmas’s ago, the police were looking for me on Xmas eve, my kids, husband, my guests, family were at my house waiting for me to return from a quick visit to the mall. That Xmas, I arrived home at 7 am, everyone in tears, and all the guests had remained to console my husband and kids. I was lethargic, so embarrassed all these close people now knew about my illness and I felt so desecrated in front of my kids. From that Xmas on, I learned that I had to reach out for help, find a higher power, and needed guidance if I wanted a chance to get better. I went to Windsor Canada for in-patient help not long after and they gave me the tools to work through a personal recovery program. Now, two Christmas’s later….I realize that life will never be the way it used to be. As human beings we are today what we have experienced in life and learned from our downfalls.

During my gambling escapades my family rightfully changed, and me too, I had to change. I thought life before gambling was just perfect……but obviously it wasn’t. But working through the recovery process works, GA Meetings work, a gambling counselor is invaluable, and grounding myself on this website helps as well. There is no quick, easy way out or painless exercises to go through. It takes time to sort out the past while living in the now and planning for better days. I can tell you gals, that life is manageable, can be peaceful, can be worthy ….but you have to go through the process to come out on the other side. Placing recovery in the forefront of life, enables good things to seep through. Don’t give up…get back up and take the bull by the horns and continue the journey. You are worth it and your families absolutely deserve it… after all we have been through. The courage to contend with this horrible disease comes from a combination of our community assistance and a power greater than us…. Happy New Year to everyone !!!!

Joanie
Toronto, Canada
 

Gripped by Gambling.  

I have a new website  www.grippedbygambling.com with information about my book. The site contains an autobiography with some photos of special times in my life. The book may be ordered from Amazon.com, and on-line books stores or directly from the publisher, Wheatmark.com/bookstore or call 1-888-934-0888 x3,  It may be ordered by the title, author or Isbn # 978-1-58736-770-0. Gifts Anon stores in Phoenix and Scottsdale are stocking the book.

Marilyn Lancelot , AZ    mslancelot@cox.net  

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