Hello, community! What do you know about gambling addiction? Perhaps you’ve seen memes about someone pawning their TV to try to win back their losses. Or maybe you’ve heard the recent news about gambling addiction among military personnel.
Today, as a subscriber and active reader of Geek Media, I’ll share my own story about what I’ll call my “downfall.”
How It All Began
First, what is gambling addiction? It’s a pathological dependence on gambling. It pushes aside all other interests in your life, driving you to do almost anything solely to spin slots (or even open cases in CS 2, loot boxes, roulette—it doesn’t really matter).
I sincerely believe that the thrill of gambling lives within all of us. For some, it’s more pronounced; for others, it’s more subdued. From childhood, I was fascinated by the chance to win 100 hryvnias by inserting 50 kopecks into an old arcade machine (yes, I’m old enough to remember when such machines were even in the grocery store in my village). Of course, I never won anything.
Eventually, I got scolded by my parents got bored with it. Later, gambling found its way into something sacred—ordinary computer games.
Cases in Dota, in CS:GO—it’s essentially the same as a casino, like any slot machine, where a knife or gloves are the equivalent of a bonus round. I spent a lot of time opening cases, selling any inventory I acquired, but I never felt any dependence, nor was there any. It was just the thrill.
When I encountered the phenomenon of online casinos, things became much more complicated and even frightening. So, I hope my story helps someone avoid the same fate (or helps them more effectively drive traffic to gambling offers, lol).
I Am an Example of Influencer Traffic
When most publications today predict that influencers will be the most impactful in the gambling niche, they are probably not wrong. I can judge this from my own experience.
The idea to play at an online casino came to me solely because I spent most of my free time watching streams by Papich (Arthas). He frequently streamed sessions where he played in 4-5 different casinos. It all looked very authentic and believable: one month he’s losing nonstop, and then there’s a week of big wins. I watched it purely to see what the odds were and whether it was really possible to win anything.
I was an active viewer of Papich for 2-3 years but never planned to play myself. I understood that anyway, it would just be lost money, which I didn’t have at the time.
However, over time, when my financial situation became more stable, the $30 sitting in my TRX wallet started to bother me. I didn’t know how to withdraw crypto at the time, I didn’t even have Binance. So, I decided to do this: I’d go to a casino just to test it out. If I won, I’d withdraw it to my card. Convenient, and it would satisfy a bit of my gambling urge. And remember, that urge lives in all of us.
My First Experience
My first deposit was purely positive. As it should be when they want to scam you big time lure you in and then clean you out completely. I played only the slots that Papich played and that paid out somewhat consistently for him (influence of influencers here). I even registered through his referral link because “well, they seem to cash out for him, so why wouldn’t they for me?”
From a $30 deposit, I managed to build it up to $400, playing only the slots I’d seen on the streams. Eventually, I lost it all, and that should have been the end of it. But it wasn’t.
I decided to check whether I just got lucky or if it was really possible to win and that the casino wasn’t just a scam. The next payment I received for a freelance job also went into the casino, and again, I managed to turn $30 into $250, only to lose it all again. It seemed clear that there was a certain threshold where you should stop, and it seemed like you could cash out. Is that how it works? No.
The third deposit was the most dangerous, and I would realize the full extent of the trouble it caused only 3-4 months later. I deposited another $30 from writing articles, built it up to $200, and then started losing. I knew this wasn’t for me, and I should quit gambling. But just as my balance dropped to around $30-40, I won €3,400 on a 50-cent bet. I knew it was time to cash out because this was unreal. After a lot of hassle, I managed to withdraw the money. The gambling worm began to eat away at my brain.
Signs of Gambling Addiction
I know what addiction feels like because I smoked for 11 years. The feeling that something is missing, which disappears after certain actions, was nothing new to me. However, I had never associated it with something you don’t physically consume.
After my big win, I figured out how Binance works. I realized that crypto could be used for more than just entertainment; it could be withdrawn and used for something useful. But instead of rational thinking, irrational and foolish thoughts took over: since I could withdraw crypto, I should first multiply my winnings in the casino and then withdraw it. Reliable as a Swiss watch.
Despite knowing that winning €3,000 was already a miracle and that it wouldn’t happen again, I continued to gamble, convincing myself that “maybe the strategy of turning $30 into $200 and cashing out at the right time actually works?” It doesn’t.
The subsequent deposits allowed me to play, but I couldn’t win anything. However, I couldn’t stop; the addiction had set in. How did it manifest?
First of all, I still had a bit of common sense left, so I understood that I wouldn’t spend my main money. So, I came up with what seemed like a reasonable solution—find more freelance work to fund my gambling without raising suspicion (I live with my girlfriend, who only knew about my big win; I was the only one aware of all my losses). Why not just withdraw the freelance money or hold onto it? Because my brain was already infected.
I justified all the subsequent losses by saying, “I’ve won so much, what does it matter if I lose $100-200? I won’t go into debt; that’s impossible.” It’s very possible.
If I deposited into the casino once a week in the first month, I soon started doing it almost every day. The amounts were small, $20-30. But it was daily.
Eventually, I began to realize that this was a real problem. There was barely enough money for living expenses, and the freelance money could have helped. But every time even a cent appeared in crypto, it was immediately deposited and lost. Just lost, because after that big win, I never won anything again for more than 4 months of playing.
I was simply too ashamed to tell anyone because what happened was exactly what everyone warned about: don’t gamble after a big win, or you’ll lose it all. I lost it all, and even more. Not immediately, gradually, but that didn’t make it any less painful.
The addiction itself is no different from smoking. You think to yourself, “That’s it, enough.” But then you have money, and it’s like a cigarette you didn’t throw in the trash, driving you crazy. Every deposit, you tell yourself it’s the last time, and you won’t fall for it again. But you will. More than once.
How Marketing Works, and Did I Feel Its Impact?
To make this article even more useful for you, I’ll talk about the pressure from marketing.
All those free spins and deposit bonuses may not work on people who have never gambled and don’t understand what a casino is. But they work very well on gambling addicts. Especially when they offer free spins in a slot you’re familiar with. In general, ads featuring certain slots are extremely effective with gambling addicts: certain associations arise, followed by the urge to deposit again.
The influence of influencers is also effective. After watching another stream where Papich wins in a new slot, the first thought in my head is, “I need to try that too.” Why is that? I don’t know; psychologists can answer that. But that’s how it worked with me.
So, in my opinion, campaigns targeting people who have never gambled are unlikely to be as effective as those specifically aimed at gambling addicts.
The Period of Realization and Seeking a Solution
When did I realize I had a problem? In short, too late. Only after I had lost more than I had won.
When I calculated my crypto income and expenses, I realized I had been losing about $300 a week. At first, I was shocked that I was even earning that much; it seemed like a lot to me. Then I began to sink into depression because all that money stayed in the casino.
I decided to tell those around me about my problem, hoping that their disapproval would help me recover. I also limited my access to money: now, all the money is with my girlfriend. How effective will this be? Only time will tell. But for now, I’ve made a few conclusions:
- The casino won’t make you rich; it creates problems that are extremely difficult to overcome;
- The casino only allows you to win in the initial stages; after that, it will drain as many deposits as you make. There are no safe strategies.
- You can’t outsmart a program designed to outsmart you.
My current goal is to earn back what I lost. Perhaps this kind of therapy will actually help me, and if you’re interested in reading the continuation of this story, feel free to share your thoughts in our Telegram community. I promise to update you, even if gambling addiction wins. Don’t be like me.
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