900 Days.

900 days since my last bet.

900 days since the last time I sat and watched a sporting event thinking I could win money on it.

It’s strange how much life changes when you finally stop chasing something that was never real. I used to think I was in control. I used to think one more bet would fix everything—that the next win would make the losses, the guilt, the lies, all go away. But it never did. It only dug me deeper.

When I finally stopped gambling, I didn’t know who I was without it. Sports used to run my life. Every game had meaning, but not for the right reasons. I wasn’t watching because I loved the game—I was watching because I had money on it. I cared more about the over/under than the moment itself.

Now, 900 days later, I can sit down and watch a game again and actually enjoy it. No bets. No apps open. No constant checking my phone to see if I hit a parlay. Just the simple joy of watching something I used to love, without the chaos attached to it.

Every day away from gambling is a blessing. Life feels more free now. I’ve learned that freedom isn’t about having money or winning—it’s about peace. It’s about being able to wake up without shame, to look people in the eye again, to stop hiding.

If you’re reading this and still struggling, I get it. I’ve been there. The pain of knowing you’ve hurt people you love, the fear that you’ll never be trusted again, the emptiness after losing money you didn’t even have—it’s crushing. But I promise, it doesn’t have to stay that way.

Here’s what helped me rebuild my life:

Tell someone.
I hid for so long, thinking I could fix it myself. But silence is what keeps you sick. The moment I opened up and told someone what was really going on, things started to change. It wasn’t easy—but it was the start of getting my life back.

Cut off access to money.
I had to take away my ability to gamble. That meant letting someone else manage my accounts for a while, deleting betting apps, and blocking sites. It felt extreme, but I needed those barriers to protect myself from myself.

Find your people.
You can’t do this alone. I found a community of people who understood me, who didn’t judge, who helped me see that recovery was possible. Whether it’s a GA meeting, a Discord group, or online recovery spaces—connection matters.

Give your time to something that gives back.
When I stopped gambling, I realized how much time I’d lost. Thousands of hours. I started focusing on things that actually made my life better—spending time with family, helping others in recovery, working on myself. That’s where purpose comes from.

I’m not saying I have it all figured out. Some days are still hard. But even on my hardest day in recovery, life is still better than my best day gambling.

If you’re on Day 1, or maybe you’re trying again after a relapse—keep going. The freedom, peace, and self-respect you’ll gain are worth every struggle.

900 days later, I don’t miss the bets. I don’t miss the chaos. I don’t miss pretending.

What I have now—clarity, peace, and honesty—means more than any “big win” ever could.

Here’s to the next 900 days. One day at a time.