My Mistress

My father once said, "gamblers don't have time for girlfriends." What he didn't say was, "that's because gambling is their mistress."

What he and I didn't know was that the word mistress comes from the French "mestresse" which means master. The original meaning of mistress was a woman who has power, authority, or ownership.

To whatever we are addicted that is our mistress and we are her slaves.

I have written several posts about the "gambling whore," and while I feel the metaphore is accurate, we can also refer it as our mistress. The "whore" description fits because the attraction to gambling is "hot" and compulsive, but the mistress is appropriate as well as because it is in every way the most important thing in our lives, competing for attention from wives, families and careers.

Anyone who is addicted to gambling knows that the gambling mistress is always in the back of his mind. She tempts us with her appeal and we often can't wait to run to her. And then there is the guilt and duplicity.

And just as with a mistress, something has got to give: either we give up the mistress and return to our families, or we desert them for the mistress. And we know what the odds are of staying with the mistress -- the affair usually ends up crashing and burning.

We are not meant to be slaves to anything or anybody. When we are, our spirit is destroyed and and we lose our self respect. We are not meant to prostrate ourselves, and forfeit our dignity for those things which control us. It is better to admit defeat and that we have lost control of ourselves. I'm sure even the mistress understands that.

Pimp My High

Allright, gamblers, this is how it goes: money is the drug and it is what we abuse to get high. It is as intoxicating as sex, food, drugs and alcohol. The problem is like all addictions, it really doesn't satisfy you. Even when you win a bundle you're are really not satisfied until you come back for more action. Money means nothing, it is a pimp pushing dopamine to the pleasure/reward part of your brain. Play cards for a twenty-five cents and you're likely to fall asleep before the "river." Play cards for twenty-five dollars and you're lit up like Christmas tree.

I worked on the race track as a jockey's agent, turf writer, and PR official. During that time I was like a guy hooked to a dialysis machine. The track was my life. The money I made legitimately only supported my addiction to betting the horses. That's where my motivation lay and that's where I kept score. How much money I brought home from my job, my savings, my money for vacations was subordinated to how much I won and loss at the track. In my mind, that was where my success and failure rest. It was also in my brain where I was seeking to repeat countless times my dopamine rush. Since I am not a neurobiologist and really don't understand the neurochemistry of my compulsion, I gave meaning to my addiction by keeping score with the money. If I was losing, I obsessed to get even; if I was ahead, I would fantasize about winning more. That was the only way I could make sense of the compulsive life I was living.


Of course there is a huge infrastructure and institution set up for people to gamble. Casinos, off track betting, card rooms, and online gaming provides opportunities to gamble anytime and anywhere. So it doesn't take much for someone with faulty wiring of the brain to become obsessed, abuse it and attempt to rationalize it.

But in the end, you understand it's not the money we are after, but what its pimping.

(I'm on vacation. Pimp My High is a reprint from an earlier post)

Letting Go and Falling into the Unknown

If you are struggling with any type of compulsion or addiction, I recommend two books. The Spirituality of Imperfection and When Things Fall Apart.

Both books offer vaulable insight into how our ego is constantly edging out our spirituality. They also explore the ancient spiritual underpinnings to the modern cultural admonition, "Let it go."

I struggled for a long time with understanding my spirituality. At first, I believed it had to do in believing in God and that If I did all the right things I would be protected, both here and in the after life.

Then I realized it was learning to yield to a "higher power," to something greater than myself. I understood I was not in control of anything, the least of which, myself.

While yielding to a higher power was an essential step, the real breakthrough came when I truly grasped that all life is impermanent, transitory, uncertain and ambiguous. Facing that insecurity was what I had been trying to avoid. I wanted certainty, I wanted control, I wanted an anchor. The ironic thing is that my drive for these things put me into an emotional and psychological prison, and it was only after giving up my need for these things and able to let go that I truly experienced freedom.

Until I grasped and accepted this, I over analysed events, trying to make sense of everything to the point of tedium. I took fervent positions on what was right and wrong. Each trangression grew into a crisis unless I could understand it and gain control of it. Each small thought grew into an overwhelming obsession.

When you realize that you are very small, and that you are transitory, a great burden is lifted from your soul - you just don't take yourself that seriously any longer. I don't mean that you let people walk all over you or that you give up your boundaries, I mean that you are less inclined to impose your will onto people and things; you also reduce your expectations of what life owes you. You are able to detach from the fears and uncertainly in life and fill it with compassion and understanding.

When we are confronted with what appears to be a mountain of troubles, that mountain is reduced to rubble when you are able to grasp the wisdom of the bromide, "This too shall pass."

The "Real Thing"

You know what getting "real" with yourself means? It means making no one else responsible for you and your happiness. It means that you don't look to other people to make you whole or complete, and therefore, you don't blame them for their shortcomings. It also means accepting ourselves and not looking to people or compulsions to satisfy our emptiness.

Most of us are raised thinking that we must please other people to be accepted and, sadly, that often becomes the the basis for our self esteem. Our identity is linked to how other people value us, instead of how we value ourselves.

Want a prescription for divorce? Make your partner responsible for your happiness, which is usually accompanied by an implicit judgement on who they are, because only "good" people who do the right things are capable of making us happy and making us feel good about ourselves. Ever notice how when you cross over that imaginary line and want to "borrow" a sense of self from your partner, how powerless, empty and inadequate you feel? Or when you look towards your partner for "validation" of "affirmation," how let down you feel when he or she doesn't live up to your expectations?

Many of us run from how we feel. We don't want to feel our feelings. That is a breeding ground to develop compulsive behaviour. Sure, we all want to escape once and a while from the daily grind, but forgive me for sounding maudlin, but that is what recreation is for. Or, even meditation. The point is positive escape is beneficial and not destructive and can also be a way to helping you better deal with your feelings.

Feel your feelings. Gambling is a way of numbing them.

The Art of Seduction

The gambling whore came round today. She saw that I was lonely and wanted company. I looked at her as she sat down next to me looking so good and tempting. She always has that seductive and vexing smile which promises so much more than she delivers. She promises excitement and pleasure, but it always ends in heartache. Oh, she will tease you and get your blood rushing, raising your passions and leading you to act impulsively. But in the end you never get what you need, because she gives nothing. It is only an illusion of happiness and satisfaction that you chase. And when you are on your knees begging for more, she abandons you to your own private hell.

The gambling whore came calling today and as much as I wanted to believe her, I didn't. I turned and walked away. But she'll be back wearing a sexy new dress and a intoxicating new fragrance, trying to lure me once again, because she knows how easily it is for me to fall for her lies.