I didn’t realise till this morning, but next week is the Cheltenham Festival. I used to love this week of the year.
The nights start to get noticeably longer. It’s light in the mornings when I wake, and the cream of the National Hunt horses head to Cheltenham for five days of the best racing.
That has changed now. I nearly lost my family over it. Not the horses so much. I’d bet on anything!
At my worst I’d be up at 3 or 4 o’clock in the morning betting on American College Basketball, Australian Soccer even table tennis.
My betting started as a bit of fun on a Saturday in the pub. A £1 accumulator on the soccer or a place pot.
I had a phase of pouring money into fruit machines, but since moving to Ireland they are not as prevalent in the pubs.
Suffering from depression and other issues related to my abandonment and adoption as a child. I’m guessing I used this as my coping mechanism.
It went way out of hand. Bills didn’t get paid, the rent was let go. Until herself found out.
Thankfully she gave me a second, a third and finally last chance.
Its been nearly a year now since I had a bet, there are times I see match results or racing results and think “If I’d a tenner on that!”
This week will be tough, but instead of watching the horses I’ll play with my boys and hold #BabyPink.
We may not have much, but I’ve everything I need.