A Bad Situation
A Bad Situation
April 15th 1987. The day my dad lost his dad forever. He was killed in an accident at work, and my dad was heartbroken. I have heard many stories about the grandfather I never met, the one that sticks in my mind the most is something my grandma told me. She told me her once brought a brand new pair of tyres of someone from across the street. They were brand new, in perfect condition and strangely a bargain. In those days, times were hard and money was hard to come by, making this bargain even more of a surprise. My grandmother said that night, my grandfather got it into his head that they were stolen which is why they were being sold on the black market so cheap. That night my grandfather couldn’t sleep because of worry, and first thing in the morning, he took them back to the guy he brought them off. He couldn’t physically bare the idea of being caught up in anything remotely untoward. That’s how honest and hard working he was.
Let’s fast forward almost thirty years to the day, April 13th 2017. The grandson of this honest and pure person is sat in a police station being interviewed for theft. Not just a small theft either. Several thousand pound, stolen by the grandson from his former employer. That grandson is me, and this is my story:
I have a gambling addiction, and have done for the last four years. I have attempted to stop several times, however no matter how long I managed to stay away I kept falling back into the same trap. I racked up debts, did bad things. I paid off the debts, did good things.
When at the height of my struggles, I discovered a way I could do refunds to my bank accounts and could possibly remain undetected. I resisted the urge for a while, however as any compulsive gambler will tell you, will power isn’t always enough. Soon, I succumbed and was doing several refunds a week to clear my debts and to bet with. I got myself in a hopeless and destructive cycle that was only ending one way.
I was eventually caught.
I am thankful I was caught, as it stopped me stealing. I hated myself while I was doing what I was doing, and I still do. I was not raised to be a thief. My whole family are decent and honest people, the way I acted is in no way, shape or form reflective of the morals I was raised to adhere to.
My close family was heartbroken, they still are and I don’t know when we will ever get through this.
As of now, I have a new job, and I am just finishing the last few weeks of my degree. I had hoped to go into the British Army and represent my country, however my hopes seem very unlikely now. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I am still waiting to hear back from the police as to what happens next. Life could get so much harder before it gets better.
Addiction sure is a destructive illness to detract, but we have to keep going, all of us to prove to the world we can be better, and do all we can to prove so. Keep fighting.