Hello. My name is Ceridwyn and I am an addict. I’m addicted to gambling. Especially BlackJack.
Last night I went to Brisbane. Attended my first ‘live’ Uni class in over 15 years. Thanks, btw, Katherine – it was a great one! But being in Brisbane – and alone, with no distractions of husband, kids, etc – presented an opportunity that was sorely tempting. You see, I absolutely LOOOOOOOVE the Brisbane casino. (And when I say ‘love’, I mean overpowering desire. Which I guess is probably more of a ‘lust’ thing. But anyway…)
I was in Brisbane, alone, the class had finished early so I had an hour before anyone suspected I was somewhere other than where I said I would be, and the Casino was right there. And so I was tempted. Very tempted. Just one thought was all it took, and suddenly every fibre of my being wanted to go those extra few blocks, walk through that grand entrance and up to a table, place my hand on that soft felt and place my first bet.
It would have been my first bet in years. Count them – seventeen of them. Yes, I’m an addict, but I haven’t stepped inside a casino since I was 20. And yes, that desire is still so powerful. Maybe it will never leave.
I resisted. And this morning, I’m glad. For the past fortnight, ever since I realised I was headed to Brisbane, I haven’t stopped thinking about the feel of the chips in my hand, the sight of the cards being flipped over, the rush of winning. Nor have I stopped remembering the times – ever so long ago now, but it’s amazing how strong some memories can be – when I would enter that Casino on a very regular basis, and come out half an hour later with $100 after entering with $50. Sure, that’s not a huge amount. Maybe that’s what got me addicted in the first place. Double your money as much as twice a week, and it’s pretty incredible what you mind can tell you you can do. So I had kept an open mind regarding what I would do. And when it got to crunch time, I took myself in hand and walked straight to my car. Yay me! I’m still swamped with the thoughts, the memories, the ‘what ifs’, but perhaps they’ll recede again…
So thanks for the memories, Brisbane – and here’s hoping that memories is what they will remain.