Compulsive Gambling and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD)

A realization dawned on me this morning when I woke up a few hours earlier than  normal. I was not tired but actually inspired. I wanted badly to write in my beloved blog which unfortunately does not love me back because I have been writing forever on Google Blogger but I have not attained the $100.00 mark in earnings needed to get a payout by Google.

The above is not nearly the focus of this article. It could be. I get distracted.

This is about how I see the relationship between Compulsive Gambling and Obsessive/ Compulsive Disorder. (OCD)

I am, sorrowfully, an expert in both areas considering my tortured, devastating, overwhelmingly painful, lifelong experiences with both disorders. 

 A little background. I am a seventy year old, single male in reasonably good health. I'm retired on very little money even though I made millions. I lost most of the money gambling. Yes!!

Just so you know. I'm sidelined because of an Achilles heal injury that I have been struggling with for eight weeks.  I blew it out playing senior softball and it is taking forever to heal. Consequently, I cannot do much now other then swim and stretch because I will just hurt it again.  
 Alright alright, I'll write.

 I figured I'd tell you all that so you don't think I'm a total waste just sitting at a poker table, eating a double cheeseburger and obsessing about lost dreams.  Or, writing only because I'm busted. No.
Writing is something I love to do and it is wonderful therapy. It also makes me feel like I am making a lasting contribution to someone. I have never injured my leg writing, either.

 I have lived an interesting life filled with the type of experiences in almost every aspect of it that fills novels and movies. I have been given a huge share of good fortune with health and family.  My life has also been both extraordinarily happy and brutally sad but has never been boring. I know, I still have not started writing about what I intended to write about.
That is because I have trouble staying focused. 
Deal with it!!

Ok. Thanks for indulging me. I'm now ready, after that little self help, to write about what I think is the connection between compulsive gambling and obsessive compulsive disorder. 

When a person is a compulsive gambler they are controlled by a continual urge to gamble. It does not matter what type of gambling they do whether it's horses, stocks, poker, or lottery tickets. It is an urge that stays with every compulsive gambler for life. That urge seems, incorrectly, to be all about money. Winning and losing. Ironically, it has nothing to do with either. It is only about the action that is craved by every compulsive gambler no matter what the game or the stakes.

The same principle applies with obsessive/compulsive disorder. It has nothing to do with one really being concerned about whether the lights or water or whatever else is turned off or was left on. 

I suffer from only obsessional thinking. Not  compulsive checking and hand washing etc. It stays in my head.  I get some physically fearful thought and I feel that to get relief I have to act it out. Like walking down a dark alley, facing a wild animal,  standing up to a violent person. Confronting danger. Physically fighting used to be what I would force myself to do because I was bullied when I was young and can still easily feel bullied. I have been consumed by fear and have struggled to find relief by misguided ways to prove my manhood.

Acting out is wrong. That applies to all urges. Taking action to get relief seems to be the answer. Whether its placing a bet, checking the lights or jumping into a lions cage. It is not ever right. 
Understanding that both ocd urges and gambling urges can only be accepted and dealt with psychologically is critical.. That  is the only way to get lasting relief. Urges must be dealt with from within. 

.Accepting the reality that you have a disease centered on an abnormal urge you must live with is the real answer. There are no other solutions to any addictions other than abstaining. You gotta stop. Giving in to sick urges to gamble or to engage in obsessive compulsive behavior cannot succeed for anyone. The same is true across the board for all addictions. 
They can never be cured by engaging them. 
 Only with acceptance and help comes legitimate relief. 

Checking the gas or making one more bet will never be the answer.
 But, it takes very hard work. Find a group, a therapist, or whatever enables you to face the reality of 
your addictive problems. Get into it. Your life will change for the better. Guaranteed.

Actually, it's comforting to know my addictions are not my or any of our faults. Than, we know that we are blameless until we understand. Than, if we do not stop it is our fault. New damages are on us addicts once we know better. 

 Addicts cannot act alone. We all need others like us. Twelve step programs are critical. Find one. There is a program for everyone. You have to want to recover.

 I used to have a constant urge to gamble on anything. Sometimes I still do. Than, I would lose or win. It did not matter. I could not stop until I had lost all my money. Than, I could not wait to find a few pennies or a few hundred thousand dollars to gamble with again. But, it is only about the action. Not the money. Honest. 

 I have stolen, defrauded, stolen other peoples money, lied, cheated and been in terrible legal trouble and physical danger. I was a horrible husband and father. But, I would never stop gambling. Gambling was my ultimate lover who I could escape to. The lover who would always love me.  

Finally, after joining and failing in Gamblers Anonymous several times I came back to a GA meeting on January 9, 2009 and have not gambled a penny since then. If I bet anything right now I'd be into full blown gambling immediately. I know that. So does every compulsive gambler.

 I have suffered for fifty of my seventy years gambling almost everyday no matter what.  Family, business, romance,  ravaging obsessive compulsive disorder, or anything else I was into came second. Gambling came first. I gambled away at least two million dollars of money I earned in a newspaper I founded, family inheritance money, bank loans and personal loans. The amount is irrelevant though.

I stopped gambling because I knew I would die, go insane, or end up in jail if I kept on.
  Finally, it was just because I was sick of being sick that I gave it up. I surrendered to the fact that I was powerless over gambling.
Jail, psychiatrists, loving friends and family, beautiful kids and a great wife did not stop me. Survival did. I decided I wanted to be a better person.  

My brain is wired wrong when it comes to addictions. It can be obsessive compulsive disorder, gambling, alcohol, sex, food or just about anything. Research has shown addicts are powerless in trying to control their addictions unless they accept them and decide not to give in to any of the urges. 
Also, I realized that I could not stop my addiction without group help, therapy, and forgiving myself. .
So, I will do that as of today, May 29, 2019. 
Again.
You do it too. Google your addiction. Get help.

  

Dancing With A Limp

Once again my merciless girlfriend made me drag  my beaten up 71 year old body to this Saturday night dance at the senior complex we live in. I destroyed my Achilles tendon about 8 weeks ago playing senior softball. I've been rehabbing every day both at home and in a rehab center. She is oblivious to my misery. She loves to dance. She thinks that just because I can walk, albeit limping along, that I'm good enough to dance. She is wrong. 

Deranged Donald Trump: Americas Greatest Political Con Man

The blame for the endless and overwhelming promotion and reporting of Donald Trumps sick, inflammatory rhetoric and behavior lies with all of us who feast on his deplorable words and deeds. We continually enable that guy by allowing him to run wild  without consequences. He may be our worst political train wreck of the century.

Being a super con man has worked magically for Trump. Americans endlessly buy into hucksters and con men . He is our perfect fraud. We are among the biggest suckers in the world.

 Look what electing Trump got us? Brainless, inefficient, unfit leadership. Bold, blatant violation of the rule of law and abdication of our Presidents sworn duties as commander and chief. .

 Trumps ignorant, fatally flawed, immature, ignorant behavior is doing permanent damage to our  two hundred plus year old democracy. The media keeps  him in our face strictly because they are making money from his outrageous.style.
Unfortunately, Trump is an all-time media cash cow. That is because of our national obsession with train wrecks.

 His speeches are filled with talk of violence, hate, prejudice, bigotry, bullying, and every component that appeals to the worst in many of us. His fanatic base loves what he says and does. They adore him because of his outrageous defiance of rules, customs, and laws. Charismatic and deranged madmen do attract dedicated followers.

Trump is a phenomenon created by money, privilege, immaturity, defiance, and a lot of luck. He was defaulted into power by the country's unhappiness with much of our government and the widespread hatred of Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton.
He is superman to those that needed a wild fool to thoughtlessly trash much of what we are frustrated with.

 But, he is nothing. He's just a loudmouth braggart, a punk, a totally insensitive buffoon who thinks he is the smartest guy in the room. In reality, he is shallow and superficial, and actually an "ignoramus" according to conservative columnist Ann Coulter, and "a moron" according to ex-secretary of state Rex Tillerson.

 Google the TV ratings for the O.J Simpson murder trial many years ago or for the Rodney King police beating in Los Angeles, or many other spectacular, unfortunate events. It is hard to not watch, read, or listen and become entranced when tragic events occur. Than, we buy the products and services that get attached to the big audiences. Find current advertiser revenues on tv, radio, newspapers. etc. The more Trump is publicized the more the cash registers ring.

 Forget politics. Forget morality. Forget decency. In the end, Trump getting continual coverage is all about money regardless of the righteous indignation that is demonstrated in condemning him. Watch how fast he gets dropped when he stops generating income.

Think of the school shootings, the attacks, the bombings and everything else that has happened while Trump has been in office. There is big coverage for a little while and then the media goes back to Trump again. He is the biggest generator of money.

 If a lot of the news is "fake news" as Trump claims the medias relationship to Trump is just as fake.  It is a shell game between Trump, the media and the rest of us who suck it all up and stay focused on him.

Do you want to get Trump out of your face? Stop buying and watching and listening to the non-stop coverage he gets. You would soon see him fighting to get back on the Howard Stern radio show where they called him Donald the douche-bag.

 Trump needs therapy, not politics. We need our heads examined for electing him.

 Trump will end but the damage he has done will not. Think about that.

.I believe if Trump were gone there would be another moron who would pick up his following.
.
That's scary.

PISSED AT STARBUCKS

There ought to be a law against people who go to a Starbucks bathroom, flush the toilet, turn on the hand blower, and then do not immediately open the door and leave.

It’s so rude to professional Starbucks pissers who are listening to the hand dryer blowing thinking they will be able to relieve themselves when the blower stops. .
Just the other day I stopped at my favorite Starbucks which is on my delivery route. I had a fierce urge to pee. My old bladder was bursting.

I walked in and looked toward the single bathroom door and I saw there was no one waiting to go in. Relief. I felt happy but only for seconds. Then, I turned the handle of the door and it was locked. “Shit,” I mumbled to myself. I heard someone  inside shuffling. 
I started swaying nervously waiting to hear the toilet flush. It did quickly. Then the hand blower started blasting away.

Oh. Thank goodness I thought. Relief was only a  few seconds away. I then heard the blower turn off and I already had my hand on my zipper in anticipation of emptying my bloated bladder.

But, the door did not open. Another few moments went by and I was sweating and swaying and getting crazy. I was about to pee in my pants. After all, I’m sixty nine years old. My bladder is no longer made of steel. Now, it seems to be made of tissue paper.

Another moment passed and I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped. I pounded hard on the door with both fists. Nothing happened. Then, I started kicking the door while still pounding away with both hands.
Still, no response.

I started screaming “ whoever you are please get out of there” “I gotta go bad.” Still, nobody came out. My bladder felt like would explode.The piss was just about to burst out. I grabbed my crotch. It was personal now. This bastard inside was trying to torture me. 

I screamed “get the fuck out of there, asshole, I’m dying here”.
The door finally opened and this little prick with a Chicago White Sox cap emerged. I felt brave knowing I was not going to get punched out by some nasty dude. 

As I roughly moved  past the little shit who was about four and a half feet tall and maybe eight years old I screamed at him ” Did you ever think someone was waiting to get in here?” He looked up at me as if he had never been talked to angrily before.

I emptied my tortured bladder, came out and started heading back to my van. Just as I was pulling open the front door this big, strong, heavily tattooed guys hand clamped around the back of my neck. Mr. muscle bound, scary looking guy growled “that’s my son you were hassling, asshole” pointing down to the little prick who was now grinning widely at me. I stuttered “umm, ah, I”.

The bruiser father interrupted my stutter. He said “You have three words your're going to say to my little son Tommy “Repeat them back to him or say goodnight.” He cocked his arm back and I stared at a big, ready fist”.”Say, I’m sorry Tommy”. 

I looked down at this little brat who was now roaring with laughter at me. Than, I looked into the eyes of his brute of a father. It was time to humiliate myself. My  thumping heart was sure daddy meant business.

“I’m sorry Tommy” I gurgled. “Haha” little Tommy cackled.
 
Big, mean daddy looked at me as I walked away  “Go get your bladder fixed shithead” he said. He waited for an answer.

I could only mumble “right” as I slithered out the door.

PISSED AT STARBUCKS

There ought to be a law against people who go to a Starbucks bathroom, flush the toilet, turn on the hand blower, and then do not immediately open the door and leave. 

It’s so rude to professional Starbucks pissers who are anxiously listening to the hand dryer thinking the person inside will come right out.    

 Veteran Starbucks pee ers think that they will quickly be able to relieve themselves when the blower goes silent. Its terribly uncomfortable to get faked out.

 Just the other day I stopped at my favorite Starbucks which is on my delivery route. I had a fierce urge to take a piss. My old bladder was bursting. I walked in and looked at the single bathroom door and I saw there was no one waiting to go in. 

 Relief. I felt happy for a second. Then, I turned the handle of the door and the door was locked. “Shit,” I mumbled quietly. I started swaying nervously waiting to hear the toilet flush. It did quickly. Then the hand blower started blasting away.Ah. Thank goodness. Relief was only a few seconds away. I then heard the blower turn off and I already had my hand on my zipper in anticipation of emptying my bloated bladder.

But, the door did not open. Another few moments went by and I was sweating and swaying  and getting crazy. I was just about to let loose in my pants. After all, I’m sixty nine years old. My bladder is no longer made of steel. Now, it seems to be made of tissue paper. Another moment passed and I couldn’t take it. I snapped. I pounded hard on the door with both fists. Nothing happened. Then, I started kicking the door while still pounding away with my hands.

Still, nothing doing.

GROW A SET DEMOCRATS

                                                                        SMARTEN UP DEMOCRATS

THE ORANGE HAIRED LUNATIC IS GONNA BLOCK YOUR WAY
ALL THE WAY TO 2020 ELECTION DAY

HE AIN'T EVER GIVING YOU WHAT YOU WANT
THAT'S THE FACT ALL THE BULLSHIT IS JUST AN ACT

YOU CAN CRY AND WHINE ALL THE WAY
THAT'S WHAT TRUMP WANTS BUT HE WILL KEEP YOU AT BAY

SO FIGHT FIRE WITH FIRE AND  STOP BELIEVING THAT JUSTICE WILL PREVAIL
BECAUSE TRUMP AND HIS LOVED ONES ARE NEVER GOING TO JAIL

TRUMPS HAS YOU BY THE BALLS AND YOU WILL KEEP GETTING HAD
UNLESS YOU GROW A SET AND REALLY GET MAD

YOU CAN WIN DEMOCRATS BUT NOT WITHOUT GETTING TOUGH
BECAUSE DONALD HAS A GROUP THAT IS WAY TOO ROUGH