How Gambling in Casinos Became My Downfall

In April of 2003, while sitting in my office recliner on a Saturday, unable to focus on the backlog of work I had come in to do, I found myself wondering how I had once again found myself in an all too familiar predicament. Here I was again, in need of money and pondering ways to get some. This was to no avail because all my go-to reserves, both personal and business, were just tapped out with no end in sight. One thought pops ups and I proceed to place a jovial, late-morning phone call to my very close friend, “Ellie”. I had recalled her suggesting some months before that we try our hands at the slots. The discussion was quick. Eerily, it felt as though she was on the same page as I was before I phoned. Too, it looked to be a great day weatherwise. It was the weekend and this would be something new for the both of us. Within one hour she and I were headed to Dover Downs in Dover, Delaware. Here is where I will begin my affair to emotional and financial destruction.

Dover Downs is a gorgeous casino (as they all are) in the very unassuming town of Dover. You would never have expected such glitz and allure while en route as the first state hosts some of the most rural of roads where it’s commonplace to see the Amish riding in their horse-drawn buggies. But don’t let the irony fool you. We arrive. Before “Ellie” and I made our way to our separate play areas, we set a specific departure time and it was on! Several hours passed, but as luck would have it, or as in both our cases, it did not, we won nothing. Even though I was new to the whole gambling arena I did manage to leave with a twenty dollar bill. I had taken sixty with me. My friend “Ellie” on the other hand, well let’s just say she had taken a lot more than I and lost a lot more. We vowed to redeem our losses with a return trip on the following day. Again, it was on! Back in my same play area , this time, I do great! I played the dollar slots in part because I thought a dollar was a dollar and amounted to much of nothing but I would come to learn a costly lesson. I win back the money from the day before, but even better, I had won close to four hundred bucks! This was way too easy, i thought. And this was only after putting in only thirty . Although this was a good thing, I was a first-time gambler. Inexperienced. Was I a fool in the making? An addict waiting to evolve? I enjoyed seeing all the wide smiles of sheer joy and hearing the heightened screams of triumph when a jackpot was hit. This was just too exciting. Again, we departed on our agreed upon time.

The following week I journeyed to Dover Downs sans my friend. My schedule was a little more flexible than hers and I just enjoyed going. I was in heaven. Happy to be among those who shared in my delight. I arrive around 11 am. On this day, to my amazement, I hit jackpot after jackpot after Jackpot after jackpot! It was just incredible! Was this some random, promotional set-up by the casino higher-ups and I was their chosen guinea pig? Perhaps to be used as live advertising for all the others casino patrons who were in just as much awe as I as they followed my progress on winning jackpots throughout the day? Well, surprisingly, after my run with Lady Luck, I was feeling a bit uneasy. Elated , but uneasy. I just didn’t understand it. It was now after 8 p.m. so I decided to leave. And because I didn’t want my good friend to feel I had gone behind her back and indulged in the excitement of casino life without her, I didn’t tell her about that day or the winnings I garnered from it until about a month later. To this day, I believe, was the start of my affair with the one-armed bandit. We were now as one.

Now “Ellie” and I were starting to make weekly treks to the casinos. I say casinos because we added Charlestown Races and Slots to our gambling agenda. Shamefully, I admit, more than once we have visited Charlestown and Dover Downs on the same day. Too, were now staying until close. During these times, Lady Luck had started to side with “Ellie”. Now she was doing most of the winning and I was now losing mounds of cash. We would often make light of our casino antics and call one another “big spender”. Where once we growled about losing a mere sixty to one hundred dollars a visit, we were now smarting over losing big time. We had now upped the ante. The amount of cash we were now taking into a casinos was anywhere from a low of four hundred dollars on up to one thousand dollars or more. And this was sometimes twice a week. I now cringed at the thought . We would definitely hit the slots on our paydays. I will admit that I have gone to the casino on my payday and lost my entire paycheck. This happened twice. I swear it will never happen again. Getting through two weeks without a dime until your next payday is hideous. When I said it will never happen again, it will never, ever happen again. No casino will ever reap my entire paycheck again! Along with the loss of cash, there is also a great loss self-esteem and self-worth. At times I have loathed myself, wondering how my relationship with the one-armed slot bandit went from extreme Ecstasy to that of self-hatred and thoughts of suicide. It had become that bad. I could no longer look at myself in the mirror. All I could think about was finding a way of undoing this mess I had created. And suicide seemed the only solution to making it all go away. I was depressed. Truthfully, I am still depressed but trying to figure it all out. I had cut off all contact with my family and most friends. And because I was losing so much money. I couldn’t pay my bills. Those who knew I of my trips would ask me about the casinos I would lie. I would say I hadn’t been in a while. I was too embarrassed to let anyone know that I had become a casino floozy strung out by the bandit.

Shortly, after the peak of our casino binge, I stopped going with “Ellie”. Perhaps out of the shame of someone seeing my addiction in action. And too, perhaps, out of shear embarrassment that I was on an expensive losing streak and she was there to witness it. Also, I was starting to conclude that my allegiance to the slots was for the worst. I had to make a change. I missed the bond I had with my family more than anything. But I couldn’t talk to them. They would know something was wrong. I am sure they knew something was wrong. I had ceased all communication with them when there was no reason for doing so. Sure, they knew about my occasional trip to the casino. But that it had become an addiction, no way could they find that out. But deep down, I think they were aware. I am now working on severing my relationship with the one-armed bandit. I need my family back. I need me back. It’s been hard, though. A struggle indeed. I still go to the slots, but not as frequently. I am glad of this. I am elated about this. I feel it’s a first step in recovery. Have I thought about seeking help? Sure, but I can’t give a solid answer as to why I haven’t done so yet. I guess I’m trying to see if I can get me of this ruin on my own. I did this to myself. I made all my problems . I need to take responsibility for this mess I’ve made. I went to see my parents three weeks ago. A long and much needed visit it was. Regretfully, it had been over two years. I was feeling like the old me again. I have never been so happy. It was just so much time lost unnecessarily. I am now realizing that it’s alI a complete visage. Someone’s job well done. Perfect lights. Perfect sounds. Perfect glitter. Perfect marketing strategy. I know it will be a challenging and tempting road, but I won’t let it be a long one. Dealing with bouts of depression, drowning in debt and avoiding social ties, like most things, you grow tired of it. But, indeed I’ll make it. This relationship with the bandit…it’s getting old…it’s winding down…it’s on it’s last leg.