Ask AJ is Slate’s advice column about addiction, recovery, and how to hate yourself. Submit your question here. It’s anonymous!
Dear AJ
I tend to have a gambling problem and have struggled with it off and on for many years. The worst thing ever for me was when I spent thousands of dollars on a mobile game. I justified that it wasn’t gambling because I wasn’t trying to win money, just a new skin for my character, but this obviously didn’t mean I wasn’t gambling expenditure money. I got a new phone and couldn’t log into the game again so I had no choice but to quit.
Since then, I’ve started paying close attention to anything related to gambling, even if it doesn’t technically “count” as gambling. But as I got tougher, the world became more forgiving. All of my male relatives are into sports betting, and my father and stepfather always ask me to join them. My half-brother often pesters me to participate in games he knows will lead me straight into bad habits. And now my sister wants me to go to the casino with her and my brother.
How can you say no in a situation like this? I don’t feel like I can tell them the real reason. I have made a series of poor financial, career, and relationship decisions unrelated to gambling, leading my family to believe that I am a childish irresponsible person who cannot be trusted with money, women, or heavy responsibilities. I have solidified it. Telling them about my gambling addiction only worsens their image of me. And I don’t want to miss activities that I share with my family.
But I know how my brain is wired and any game of chance with me equals disaster. How do I explain this without 1) sounding like a total buzzkill, 2) sounding like a retarded person, and 3) making my extremely sensitive sister feel like she’s being judged? Because I think it’s good other People gamble! I just know it’s not for me.
-Confusion and disillusionment
Dear Confused and Disillusioned,
First of all, I would like to commend you for considering the feelings of the family. They will surely appreciate it and can comfortably bet and (usually) lose money in your presence without worrying that you might backtrack and ruin their life. Now it looks like this. This is a worthy effort on your part to preserve the beloved pastime, which you especially have the right to participate in.
I mean, Jesus, do you see how ridiculous that is?
You can protect your recovery. It doesn’t make you sound like a dumb person or a buzzkill. You sound like someone who values his life and knows his limits. Gambling can be as destructive and addictive as drugs for some people. Stay safe and don’t worry about what your family thinks about you. And you don’t even have to explain why you don’t want to participate in their stupid games. Again, this is your life. your recovery. You are in charge. If you’re sitting in front of a penny slot wondering if you can win 100 pennies and you don’t have the urge to sit there for 12 hours until you win 10,000 pennies, stay away.
In the future, I might be able to accompany my older sister on such outings. or not! I don’t know yet whether I can go to the casino or not. All we can do in the early stages of recovery is be cautious and honest. In the beginning, I felt very paranoid and anxious about every lifestyle choice I made and what I put in my body. I avoided mouthwash, cough syrup, and tiramisu. No non-alcoholic beer or mocktails. No nicotine products. No gambling. Even fantasy football leagues with low stakes and no money felt dangerous.
I also had a lot of social anxiety about situations that I wanted to avoid. In the early days, it was held at birthday parties at bars (obviously), concerts (more on this later), red-eye flights, tailgates, casinos, and basically all over the city of Las Vegas. Ta.
Less than a year after I got sober, I was invited to go to Las Vegas for a Jimmy Buffet concert (don’t judge), but I still didn’t feel strong enough to go. did. Can you have fun even if you don’t blast rails with your fists or gulp down fruity frozen drinks with a parrot’s head while staggering around? no. And can you get that close to a sportsbook without betting on 12 football games at once until there’s nothing left in your bank account? Doubtful.
Also, part of the reason I didn’t want to go was because I was worried that I would make people around me uncomfortable and make them feel paranoid and awkward. I went to my first sober concert a few months ago and it was really hard for me. I had no idea what to do. Standing there and watching professional musicians play a song? I was sure that all the people around me who were drinking and getting high were paying full attention to the fact that I wasn’t participating. Instead, I completely removed myself from enjoying the show and gave myself a useful fictional job instead. I pretended to be a secret agent scanning the crowd for potential gunmen and suicide bombers. do you understand? In early recovery, it is difficult to remain calm and normal towards people in potentially triggering environments.
Then last summer, eight years into my recovery, my wife surprised me with tickets to see Afterimage of the Grateful Dead at the Sphere. At first I wasn’t too excited about the idea. A sudden trip like this still makes me feel anxious and uncomfortable, especially in Las Vegas. Add to this the fake death show inside a blinking, shape-shifting globe of hell, and I decided it wasn’t a great place for me. But I changed my mind and decided to go anyway. It was a lot of fun, but it took a while 8 years To build confidence that you can do it. If really want It’s one thing to be in a place where gambling exists, it’s another to have an exit plan in case things get dangerous. But why spend your precious free time in extreme discomfort or even far from your comfort zone, just to theoretically make sure your family is comfortable? (And while it doesn’t really matter, I’m not even sure that politely declining my sister’s invitation to go to the casino and suggesting an alternative sibling-bonding activity would upset her in the slightest) )
Finally, it is with the full authority vested in me as Deputy Counsel for Recovery at Slate that I must convey this reminder to you. you are not a loser. Because, as you may know, many of us who struggle rely on losing. I felt that way most of my life. There’s a perverse thrill in the idea that you can deliberately self-destruct in a way that most people would consider crazy. I have bet on black many times in my life (literally and figuratively) and lost big. Oh, what a hurry! Back to zero (or less than zero) is where I’m most comfortable. You may think so too, but keep this in mind. It’s just that our brains are wired incorrectly or buried trauma has tricked us into believing that we’re only at our best in self-destruction mode. This is not our fault, but it is important to realize that this needs to be fixed.
On a practical level, how you say no is more important than the fact that you firmly say no. If your family doesn’t want to do the bare minimum here and antagonize or belittle your decision to heal, that’s their problem. You need to free yourself from their toxic shame and realize that in this case, you are a much better, more evolved, thoughtful human being than they are. Maybe they’ll get there, but until then, don’t engage with them until they respect your choice. Give yourself a chance to win.
—A.J.
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