and the other night I had one of those nights that I seem to have every couple years or so. One of those nights after which I tell myself never again. I don't know why I'm telling the Honest community of all things, but I haven't had much else to blog about, so what the hell.
Don't worry, it's not like I gambled away my life's savings. Just enough to make it hurt. You hear about people that like to cut themselves, and I guess I can understand them because it's like I do the same thing but in a different way. Sometimes the cuts are small and insignificant. But every once in awhile, I'll have a night like this one.
I'm the type to rationalize everything. I like to think everything happens for a reason, even if I don't really believe it. So whenever I suffer a big loss I always end up using it as fuel to light a fire under my ass to write. For the last couple of days I've been doing just that, and I think I've done some of my best work yet. We'll see if I post any of it here. What's funny is that I seem to write best when I'm sad or depressed, but the moment I write something I'm proud of it makes me happy again, filling me with a renewed sense of hope, which then causes me to become complacent again and slack off. It's how I'm wired I guess. I've always been that way. Even when I was a student I could never seem to do anything until the very last moment, until the pressure had built up to such a degree that I had no choice but to get to work, knowing it's either that or let everything come crashing down.
This morning as I was driving into work I was thinking about all this when I started to wonder why I have the gambling bug to begin with. I always figured it's because I grew up dirt poor. But so did my parents, and they weren't gamblers--my mother for sure, and as far as I know, my father too. I wonder if it's because they grew up back in Korea. Not the Korea of the 21st century, but the one still in the process of recovering from the Korean War. Whereas I grew up right here in the USA, where for as long as I can remember I've always been chasing that American dream, where I grew up watching shows like The Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, and was always aware that even amongst my classmates, I was among the poorest of them all.
Ha! I didn't mean for this to sound like some sob story. I'm not looking for anyone's pity. I just wanted to write something.
EDIT: Shit, I just realized the whole point of support groups like AA. It's cathartic to tell people how you've screwed up. And it might not be as easy to tell your close friends or loved ones as it is a bunch of strangers.