Thirty Days - Day Four

This is not day four.  This is day six.  Day four to six have followed similar patterns.   I am not trying to quit smoking or drugs.  I am not having cold sweats, I am not freaking out.  Gambling is not like that.  You don't get a fix.  You don't make excuses during the day, justifying your decision.  Gambling is not like that at all.  Not for me anyway.  

I'm colour blind.  I don't mean that black white all men are equal.  (Although they are, it's probably a good idea not to discount a man's cultural heritage but that's a different conversation ) I don't see the colours like other people.  I see them merge.  I don't see them as separates. Other people can say that's green or that's brown  even when they are green - brown they can say with authority which colour dominates. I can't do that.  I can't see when they switch.  Bear with me. Now, look at a light sign.  It changes colours.  You see it as a movement, a trick of the mind. Sometimes I do. Most of the time I do. But sometimes I see it as a switch. A binary moment so infinitesimal that if you do it pay attention you will not spot where or when it happened.  

So, this impossibly small moment of time when everything changes and a blurring of what is one state and what is another that is what gambling is like for me.  It's why when I sit down and play poker, I don't get up until I'm out of chips or everyone else leaves. Does that even make sense to other people?  I imagine  if anyone ever reads this, they'll think I'm an idiot.  Which, to a large extent, is valid.  Knowing you have a problem that can Be removed by just not sitting down at a table.  So don't do that.   So I won't.