As a husband and father, I’ve always felt a strong need to believe I’m doing right by my family. You want to see yourself as the provider, the role model, the rock. But the truth was far more painful.
I drank, and I gambled. At first, both seemed like acceptable ways to blow off steam, to entertain myself. Looking back, I can think of a few milestones that should have been wake-up calls. Weekend benders. Fights with my wife. But it took one truly soul-crushing experience to make me take an honest look at what I had become.
On a business trip, some colleagues and I went to a casino. The drinks started flowing and any notion of common sense or responsibility soon became irrelevant. As sad as it sounds, I felt exhilarated. I was exactly where I wanted to be. The casino was open 24 hours.
By morning, I had blown through our family’s relatively meagre savings, which by that point had been whittled down considerably by prior gambling losses. But I had also spent the $2,500 my wife and I had set aside so our 10-year-old son could go to summer camp with his friends. I remember pacing around the casino floor, staring at the zeros on my phone. The shame felt like pure hell. I had no idea how I was going to survive this.
The sensation of hot nausea flooded my body as I limped back to my hotel room. As was my habit, I started flailing about thinking of different ways to escape the situation. Borrowing money, lying to my wife, drinking some more. I even had stray thoughts about ending it all. But something about this felt different, like it was my new reality — it felt like something I would never be able to escape. Lying there on the hotel bed, I called my wife.
I have to give her an enormous amount of credit. She remained calm and told me she had been seeing a Family Counsellor at a place called Lifeline due to my addictions. She said they could also provide counselling for me and our son. And I will never forget what she said next: “I cannot guarantee that our marriage will continue if you get help, but if you don’t, it is definitely over."
In that moment, her strength and resolve felt like the antidote to the chaos that was eating me alive. I promised I would call, and I did.
I am so thankful that my wife sought help and that it gave her the strength to tell me the painful truth. Now, I have a chance at being the person the person my family deserves. I have a chance to conquer the pain that had driven me away from what in my heart I knew was right. And I have a chance at recovering everything I thought I’d lost forever.
*Names and details have been changed to protect the anonymity of those involved, as the story was adapted after being told to a Lifeline staff member with permission to share. Additionally, we would note that the reason we were able to attend to Rob and his family immediately is because we are regularly expanding our staff in order to meet the growing demand for our services. As Chabad Lifeline is sustained through private donations, this entails significant fundraising efforts. Making a donation can help ensure that we can continue to provide timely care that can ultimately save a life or set a family on a better course, creating a positive ripple effect on future generations.
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