By Roi Riddler
There’s a kind of silence that follows after you hit rock bottom.
It’s not loud, it’s not chaotic — it’s hollow.
It’s the sound of realizing you did something you promised yourself you’d never do again.
I gambled away over $100,000.
I lost more than money. I lost trust in myself. I lost peace.
And when the high was gone and the screen faded to zero, I was left staring at my reflection — disgusted, ashamed, and asking one question:
What did I do to myself?
🎰 Why I Started Gambling
I didn’t gamble because I was greedy.
I gambled because I was chasing something — a way out, maybe. A sense of control.
I was under pressure — the kind that builds when you feel like your life is going nowhere fast, when you fear mediocrity, when you can’t stand the thought of being powerless.
I was afraid.
And in that fear, gambling became my escape — a twisted version of hope.
At first, it was fun. Then it was manageable. Then it was a routine.
Until one relapse cost me $5,000 in a single hour… and I still chased more.
My mother depends on me. I told myself I’d work harder, be stronger for her. But the more I tried, the more the weight crushed me.
I wanted to be a provider, a protector, but instead, I gave in to temptation. I chased wins that never came.
Each loss was a punch to my gut, but I kept going. I wanted to prove to myself and to her that I was capable. Instead, I just kept failing.
💥 The Spiral — And The Pain That Came After
Every loss hit harder than the last.
I feel like a fraud sometimes. I say I care, but deep down, when the urge hits, I betray myself.
I hadn’t cried in a long time. I thought I was numb, or maybe just too tired to feel.
But the night I tracked my losses — the $100,000 — the tears came.
I cried like I never had before.
It wasn’t just about the money. It was about the weight of failure, the fear of disappointing my mother, and the crushing pressure I’d been holding inside.
I remember punching myself.
I remember feeling like I was becoming just like my father — a man who let gambling ruin his family’s future.
I swore I’d be different. And yet, there I was — spiraling.
Each time I promised myself, “Never again.”
Each time I broke that promise, the guilt grew louder.
🧠 What I’ve Learned (And Am Still Learning)
This isn’t just about money.
It’s about willpower — about fighting the voices inside that say I’m not enough.
I’m learning to forgive myself, but that’s the hardest part.
I’m building new habits, setting boundaries, and choosing to focus on creating something meaningful — something my mother can be proud of.
Every day, I remind myself:
I am not my mistakes.
I am more than my failures.
This isn’t some comeback story with a neat ending.
I’m still healing. I’m still working on it.
But I have changed.
Here’s how I’m building real discipline now:
- Removing temptation — I blocked gambling sites, deleted apps, and put physical and digital barriers in place.
- Tracking every dollar — Knowing exactly where my money goes has helped me stay aware and grounded.
- Building purpose — I’ve shifted my focus into building something sustainable: a blog, a YouTube channel, a future.
- Accepting imperfection — I’m not chasing perfection. I’m chasing self-respect.
Every day I resist that urge is a small win.
And those wins? They’re starting to add up.
⚠️ To Anyone Who’s Struggling Like I Was
If you’re where I was, you probably feel trapped — not just financially, but emotionally.
Like you’ve messed up too badly to come back.
Let me tell you: you haven’t.
Here’s what I wish someone told me:
- You’re not alone, but you are responsible.
You can’t blame the pressure forever. Take ownership — and then take action. - Remove the triggers. All of them.
Don’t test your willpower. Remove temptation completely. - Talk to someone.
Don’t hide in shame. Shame thrives in silence. Start talking. - Rebuild something that gives you purpose.
Create, move, write, learn — whatever makes you feel alive and in control. - Forgive yourself — but don’t forget.
Remember the pain. Use it. Let it drive your transformation.
🌱 Final Thoughts
I will fight to be better.
I will fight to build a future where I don’t just survive — I thrive.
For her, for me, for the promise I made.
I can’t undo the past, but I can choose my tomorrow.
And I choose to rise.
I’m no longer betting on numbers.
I’m betting on myself — on the version of me who’s honest, driven, and building a better life brick by brick.
If you’re reading this and you’ve made mistakes…
You’re not your past.
You’re the story you choose to write next.