Focussed and not willing to give in.

Hi Dazza.

Just wanted to say, I hope you have a lovely NYE, no matter what you are doing! Also, wishing you health and happiness for 2026 💪🙏.

Take care.

Your friend Pink (Lady)!

🩷🍎.

Happy New year Pink Lady and to everyone else hope you all had a good one. I worked both NYE and NYD so was in bed last night by 9pm lol. 

Today is day 345 gamble free.

Can’t believe what happened today. I was sat in my office doing the next colleague schedule when one of the lads I get on really well with walked in holding his phone up and said, “Fancy putting some bets on, Daz? I’ve got £50 in my account.”
I told him no, that the wife would kill me and I don’t gamble anymore. He laughed and said, “But you’ll be gambling with my money, pal - just pick some teams for me.”
I declined again and asked him to leave me to my work, but it really messed with my head. This is someone who knows I’ve stopped gambling, knows I used to gamble alongside him, and knows I attend GA.
Just shows how easily it can pop up when you least expect it. Mind blown, but grateful I stayed strong.
Happy New Year everyone - one day at a time.

Day 365. One full year. Twelve whole months gamble free.

If someone had told me a year ago that I would be sitting here writing these words, I’m not sure I would have believed them. Back then, a single day without gambling felt uncomfortable. A week felt impossible. The idea of a whole year felt like fantasy. Yet here I am, looking at a full 365 days of choosing recovery, choosing honesty, and choosing a different life.

This milestone isn’t just about not placing a bet. It represents hundreds of small decisions made when no one was watching. It represents walking away from urges, sitting with discomfort, resisting old habits, and learning how to live without the constant noise that gambling created in my head. It represents rebuilding trust, rebuilding self-respect, and learning that peace doesn’t come from a win, but from stability, clarity, and consistency.

I could not have reached this point without the support around me. My wife has been my anchor through this journey, patient, honest, supportive, and strong even when I didn’t deserve it. My family have backed me, encouraged me, and believed in me even on the days when I struggled to believe in myself. And GA has been a lifeline. The meetings, the shared stories, the reminders that I’m not alone, and the accountability have kept me grounded when my mind tried to wander back to old thinking. Regular meetings haven’t just supported my recovery, they’ve reshaped how I see myself and my future.

I feel proud today. Proud of the consistency. Proud of the discipline. Proud of the fact that I didn’t give up when it got uncomfortable or boring or emotionally heavy. But I’m also realistic. Recovery isn’t a finish line..it’s a way of living. One year doesn’t make me immune to temptation or complacency. If anything, this milestone reminds me how important it is to stay focused, honest, and connected. The work doesn’t stop just because a number looks impressive.

There are still moments when gambling pops into my awareness unexpectedly, a comment from someone, an advert, a memory, a stressful day. What’s different now is how I respond. I don’t romanticise it anymore. I see it for what it truly was: chaos, anxiety, secrecy, and loss of control. I’ve learned to pause, breathe, talk it out, and move forward instead of reacting impulsively. That shift alone feels like freedom.

This past year has taught me patience with myself. It has taught me that progress isn’t loud or dramatic it’s quiet, repetitive, and built on consistency. It’s showing up even when motivation is low. It’s choosing the long-term peace over the short-term buzz. It’s learning how to feel emotions instead of escaping them. It’s accepting that some days will feel heavy, and that’s okay.

I’m grateful for the life I’m building now. More present. More honest. More stable. More connected. I’m grateful for mornings without regret, nights without panic, and relationships that feel genuine again. I’m grateful for the small wins clarity of mind, better sleep, better communication, and a sense of self-respect that I lost for a long time.

As I step into this new year of being gamble free, my mindset stays grounded. I’ll keep attending meetings. I’ll keep checking in with myself. I’ll keep talking instead of bottling things up. I’ll keep protecting the progress I’ve worked so hard for. Complacency is not an option, gratitude and vigilance go hand in hand.

Today I allow myself to acknowledge the achievement. One year. 365 days. Proof that change is possible when commitment meets support and honesty. I’m proud of the man I’m becoming, and I’m committed to continuing this journey one day at a time.

Here’s to another 24 hours of doing the right thing. One day at a time. 

I've just read through your diary Dazza, and I can't congratulate you enough on reaching 365 days gamble free. That's something I can only dream of at this stage, being on day 7 after yet another relapse (I've lost count of how many relapses I've had now) but I will take some of your advice on board to help with my own journey.

Proud of you mate, here's to the next 365 days and beyond! 

Sorry to hear that mate, but think of it this way, a slip while your focused every other day is better than a month blowing your wallet open.  If you slip, shake yourself down and reset. You can do this.  Best advice I can offer is attend a local GA, hand your finances over to a family member or at least five then access to see you account each day in the early days.  Focus on 90 days for now nothing last it.  Every part of you needs to drive for 90 days. Get the blocks in place, gamban, GameStop. Moses. ALL of them, if you didn't already do it right now. 

Good luck mate 

@dazza85 Dazza!!!

I have been waiting all week for your one year mark of being g.f to arrive! Congratulations 👏👏👏👏👏💙.

What a fantastic, honest read too 👌. You should be so proud of yourself, dealing with the good, the bad and the ugly and remaining g.f through it all. I am so pleased for you.

Now I think you know what I am going to say next!!😝

MAKE SURE YOU TREAT YOURSELF TO MARK THIS OCCASION!🎉🎊.

Enjoy the rest of the week with your family.

Pink Lady 🩷🍎.

Day 366. On to another day.

Firstly, thank you for all the kind messages and support PinkLady it genuinely means more than I can put into words. The encouragement reminds me why this journey works when you don’t try to do it alone and you have always been present for me so thank you. 

Today isn’t about celebrating numbers. Today is about showing up again. Day 366 is really just another 24 hours of doing the next right thing. One more day of choosing clarity over chaos, honesty over hiding, and progress over comfort. The counter keeps moving, but the mindset stays the same.

Something that keeps coming up in GA is how the second year can be a tricky one. The danger zone of feeling comfortable, letting routines slide, or quietly believing you’ve “got this” without needing the same level of focus. That message has stuck with me. So instead of cruising into year two on autopilot, I’m choosing to treat today like Day 1 again. Same hunger. Same humility. Same respect for the addiction and the damage it can do if I take my eye off the ball.

Reinventing myself feels like the right way to frame it. Not just staying gamble free, but continuing to grow as a person, better habits, better boundaries, better conversations, better reactions when life throws curveballs. Recovery isn’t just about what I’ve stopped doing; it’s about who I’m becoming in the process.

Year one taught me how to survive without gambling. Year two is about learning how to truly live without it. Building consistency. Protecting peace. Strengthening relationships. Staying connected to GA, staying honest with myself, and staying grateful for what I’ve been given back.

There’s something strangely powerful about resetting the mindset. Laughing at the idea of “redoing year one” might sound daft, but it keeps me grounded and alert. Complacency doesn’t get a seat at the table. Curiosity, discipline, and humility do.

So today I move forward with fresh eyes and steady feet. Another meeting. Another conversation. Another honest check-in. Another small win. The goal stays simple: just don’t gamble today and live well in the process.

Onwards and upwards. One day at a time. Let’s go again. 😂💪 

Oh and PinkLady, I've treated myself to an Indian for dinner this evening, small victories 😆 

GET IN!!!!!!!!

Top work mate. Super proud to read this. Inspirational stuff. Nice to see the hard work and determination paying off. It takes allot of courage to come on here, even more to go to GA, and it just shows that taking that first step can change your life.

Congrats again mate.

Stay strong 👍 

@dazza85 Glad to hear it Dazza!😋. Hope you enjoyed it. I love Indian food 😋.

Enyoy your weekend ahead.

Pink Lady 🩷🍎.

Day 373. Still standing. Still learning.

I’m grateful to still be able to say I’m gamble free, and I don’t take that lightly. Getting past one year is something I’m proud of and something I protect. But I’m also very aware that I’m still a risk. Time doesn’t magically remove old wiring, old habits, or old thinking. If anything, it teaches me to stay alert and honest about what’s still there under the surface.

Lately I’ve been noticing that I miss parts of my old world. Not the losses, the stress, the lies, or the anxiety but the excitement, the escape, the buzz, the sense of anticipation. I miss gaming sometimes, even though I know full well that if I went back, I’d be straight into the silly chance packs, spending money on randomness and calling it fun when really it’s just gambling dressed up as entertainment. I know exactly how that story ends for me.

I’ve also stopped watching sports I used to love, football, golf, because I can’t seem to separate watching from wanting to bet “to make it interesting.” That urge still shows up, and rather than feed it, I’ve chosen to step away. It’s the right decision, but it does leave a gap. Something that used to fill time, emotion, and excitement has gone, and sometimes I really feel that absence.

On the surface, life in recovery is good. I’m working full time. I’m studying for a degree alongside that. I keep myself busy with hobbies. I show up. I do the right things. Yet emotionally I feel a bit flat and bored at times, like something is missing that I can’t quite name. It’s a strange contradiction being grateful for stability while quietly craving intensity. I think that’s part of unlearning addiction. The nervous system takes time to recalibrate. Calm can feel unfamiliar when you’ve lived on adrenaline for years.

There are moments when the grief of what I’ve had to give up hits me. I would genuinely love to take my dad to a casino one day, to share that experience together. Knowing that I’ve had to close that door for good hurts more than I sometimes admit. It’s a reminder that recovery comes with real losses as well as gains. Some things simply aren’t available to me anymore, no matter how harmless they might look on the outside.

The truth is simple and non-negotiable: I cannot gamble. If I do, I will lose everything I’ve rebuilt, trust, stability, peace, relationships, and myself. And to be clear, I don’t actually want to gamble. I just miss elements of that world, the feelings it created, even though those feelings were borrowed, artificial, and ultimately destructive.

On top of all that, my health hasn’t been great lately. Lots of tests, lots of hospital appointments, lots of waiting and uncertainty. That naturally drains energy and mood, and I can feel it weighing on me today. I’m tired. I’m a bit low. I’m being honest about that instead of pretending everything is fine.

Today isn’t a triumphant post. It’s a real one. Recovery isn’t always uplifting quotes and milestones sometimes it’s sitting with boredom, grief, uncertainty, and flatness without trying to escape them. That in itself is progress.

So today I stay gamble free. I acknowledge the missing pieces without chasing them. I respect the risk without fearing it. I keep talking, keep showing up, keep trusting that this phase will pass like others have. One steady day at a time.

@dazza85 What another lovely, honest read Dazza 👏👏.

It’s ok to have these negative thoughts and experience how they can make you feel. The important thing (as I am sure you know well) is not acting on them. Like you rightly said, they will go away - just like a wave heading towards us in the sea. Eventually, that same wave comes crashing down and disappears!

Sorry to hear that your health issues are still cause for concern 😥. I will keep you in my nightly prayers 🤞🙏🙏.

You are doing the right thing - just taking all this day at a time 👍.

Thinking of you.

Pink Lady 🩷🍎.

Day 378. Steady, still standing.

Today feels like one of those “get on with it” days. Nothing dramatic, no big highs or lows, just steady mode. Work, hobbies, ticking boxes, and doing what needs doing. Recovery doesn’t always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it just quietly shows up and lets life happen, and that’s where I’m at right now.

Health appointments are still coming and going, tests here, check-ups there. Nothing glamorous, but I’m still here, still functioning, still moving forward. Pink Lady’s prayers must be doing something right because despite everything, I’m still going. Some days that feels like an achievement in itself.

Last night threw me a curveball though. I had one of the most vivid gambling dreams I’ve had in a long time. In the dream, I got a free spin, hit it big, and suddenly I was a multimillionaire. I remember feeling pure joy clearing all my loans, wiping out debt, and thinking, wahoo, life just got so much better. That familiar rush, the instant relief, the fantasy solution to every problem.

Then the dream flipped. My wife left me because I’d gambled again.

I woke up feeling startled and strangely flat. It stuck with me more than most dreams do. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Even in my subconscious, gambling still comes with a cost. Even when the win is imaginary and life-changing, the price is still real.

That dream made me think about what gambling always promised me versus what it actually delivered. It never just took money, it took peace, trust, presence, and connection. It whispered shortcuts and miracles while quietly threatening the very things that matter most to me. In the dream I had millions, but I lost my family. In real life, I still have loans running all the way to 2031, but I have my wife, my family, and my integrity intact.

That perspective matters.

I won’t pretend that the loans don’t weigh on me sometimes. They do. They’re a long reminder of past decisions and a future that still needs patience and discipline. But I’d rather carry debt with honesty than carry secrets with shame. I’d rather move slowly forward with my family beside me than sprint alone toward another collapse.

Dreams like that are a reminder that recovery doesn’t switch off the old wiring. The thoughts, memories, and fantasies can still show up when you least expect them even when things are calm on the surface. The difference now is how I respond. I don’t act on them. I don’t romanticise them. I let them pass and take the lesson instead.

So today I stay steady. I keep doing the boring, consistent things that actually build a life. I show up to work. I keep my hobbies going. I attend appointments. I stay connected. I don’t chase fantasies, even when my brain tries to dress them up as solutions.

Day 378 isn’t flashy. It’s grounded. And that’s enough.

Love to you all.

@dazza85 💪🤞🙏🙏🙏🙏

🩷🍎.

Hi Dazza

Just checking in and hope all is ok in your world - remaining g.f and health wise. I am continuing to keep you in my prayers 🙏🙏🙏.

It would be good to hear from you if you are up to it.

Take care.

Pink Lady 🩷🍎.

Today is "Day 391 Gamble Free"

Firstly apologies Pink Lady, I've been meaning to write a post for the last week and always had something come up! But here goes! 

I wanted to post a bit of an update because it’s been a while since I last wrote anything substantial, and sometimes it’s important to acknowledge where you’re at rather than just quietly moving on. The honest truth is that life lately hasn’t been dramatic, chaotic, or filled with big emotional swings. In many ways, it’s been the opposite. I’ve been focusing on simply getting on with life, putting one foot in front of the other, and letting recovery be part of my routine rather than the centre of every single thought.

Most days now are fairly steady. I get up, go to work, handle what needs to be handled, and get on with my responsibilities. That might sound boring to some, but for me it’s a huge positive. There was a time when my mind was constantly noisy, jumping from one gambling thought to the next, always looking for an escape, a rush, or a way out of whatever I was feeling. These days, that noise has mostly settled. I wouldn’t say everything is perfect, but it’s manageable, and that’s something I’m grateful for.

That said, recovery isn’t about never feeling anything difficult again. There was one moment recently that caught me a bit off guard. A colleague at work was talking loudly about how much money they had “won” on sports betting. They were clearly buzzing, reliving the excitement, and for a brief moment it hit me. I felt slightly sad. Not because I wanted to gamble, but because I realised I’ll never be able to experience that feeling in the same way again. I can’t just place one bet. I can’t dabble. I can’t enjoy it casually. That door is closed to me.

It wasn’t overwhelming, and it didn’t trigger urges to gamble, but it was a reminder of the reality of my addiction. There was a small sense of loss there, almost like grieving something that other people get to do without consequence. At the same time, I also know the full story. I know where that “buzz” always led me. I know the anxiety, the chasing, the lies, the damage. That moment passed, and I carried on with my day, but it felt worth acknowledging rather than pretending it didn’t happen.

I’ve still been attending GA regularly, and it remains a really important part of my recovery. I did miss last week’s meeting, which I wasn’t thrilled about, but life happens sometimes. Rather than using it as an excuse to drift away, I’m actually looking forward to going again this week. GA grounds me. It reminds me where I came from, keeps me accountable, and helps me stay connected to people who genuinely understand what this addiction is like. Even on weeks where I don’t feel like I “need” it, I know it’s still doing its job in the background.

Outside of recovery-specific stuff, I’ve been putting a lot of energy into building a fuller life, which is something I’ve talked about wanting to do for a long time. One big focus recently has been Taekwondo. I’ve really been getting stuck into it, training consistently and learning as much as I can. My next grading is due in about a month, so there’s a clear goal to work towards. I love having something that demands discipline, focus, and effort, and where progress comes from showing up rather than taking risks. It’s a healthy challenge, and it gives me something positive to pour my energy into.

Another big milestone for me has been on the education side. I’ve been put onto an apprenticeship degree programme, which still feels a bit surreal to say. I recently got my first university assignment back, and I came out with 72%. I’m genuinely really pleased with that result. It’s not just about the mark itself, but what it represents. There was a time when gambling completely overshadowed any long-term plans or ambitions I had. Now I’m studying, learning, and actually following through on commitments that will benefit my future.

Looking back, what stands out most at Day 391 is how different my priorities are. I’m not chasing highs anymore. I’m building stability. I’m investing time and effort into things that grow slowly but meaningfully: recovery, health, education, and routine. There are still moments of reflection, occasional difficult feelings, and reminders of what I’ve left behind, but they no longer define me or derail me.

For anyone reading this who’s earlier on in their journey, I guess my message would be this: recovery doesn’t always feel dramatic or inspirational. Sometimes it just feels like life. And that’s okay. In fact, that’s often where the real progress is happening, quietly, day by day. I’m staying gamble-free, staying connected, and staying focused on the life I’m building. And today, that feels like more than enough.