A Different Kind of Gambling

It was a pretty perfect night. Went to yoga first, found some comfort about the whole "Kenny" situation. Met my dear married friends for sushi after, then we had ice cream.

At dinner, very wise S- said "Gambling is like the perfect addiction, because the high is totally erratic. There is no guarantee. But once you get it, you'll go back again and again for more, no matter how many times it fails you."

I nodded. I agreed.

And then he thought for a minute, and looked at me, and said "And he turns you into a gambler too."

I nodded. And then it hit me how right he was. How addicted I was to an erractic lover - to many erratic lovers. Those who make me happy once, then disappoint over and over again. And I give them too many chances to give me that little happiness. It was an interesting realization.


And then today, Kenny texted me. Clearly needed something. I missed the text(s) for hours, and then discovered them, asked him what's up.

"I've been up for a Long time. Wanted to know if I could nap at your house for a couple hours?"

And I knew what that meant. He later told me he had been up at 7am, and yes, he had been at the casino since then. All night he had been at a table. A dealer had brought him a sausage biscuit in the morning when he started his shift. He had played poker all. night. long.

And finally, by noon, he was done. Out. Exhausted.

"I can't. I want to talk more about it - in person - but I just can't."

About forty minutes later I got the text: "This is terrifying." He told me he was going to park his car in a safe place. He fell asleep, and when he woke up, a neighborhood homeless resident we all call "The Shaman" was walking by his car.

"Yes it is." I wrote back.

":panic:"

So I told him to come to my office, which he did. I hugged him, and he started to act all cool, and then pretty quickly said "I am really not ok. I'm not ok at all."

I sat downstairs with him, talking. Told him about the residential treatment program in LA for compulsive gamblers: it is 100% free to residents of Louisiana. This amazes me. He was hesitant. Admitted that he hadn't been happy in years, basically since he started gambling. And that he couldn't imagine what his parents would think. And he couldn't make any promises. And I sat with him. I didn't exactly take no for an answer. I told him he was "not off the Veritas-hook", but had to go upstairs to finish my work. He came and fell asleep on the futon.

When I woke him up after 5, when I was leaving, he said if I would not let him sleep in his car tonight, he would have a serious talk about it with me in the morning. I said, that plus: You must promise me you will go to one G.A. meeting. I made him shake on it. Look me in the eye.

I don't entirely believe him. I would drive him to Shreveport in the morning (except my car sucks) - I would do a lot of things to see that he gets help. But this is it.

I'm afraid of a lot of things - that he'll wake up in the middle of the night and leave. That I've been duped. Again. That in the morning he'll wake up and convince me somehow that he doesn't need to go. He's promised to go to a GA meeting. Isn't that enough?

At this point, I think I've done everything I can do. I will have a serious conversation in the morning. Give him his options, but stick to my guns. I am ready to cut him off if that's what needs to happen.

I just really hope not.