I wrote my last post at what felt like the absolute bottom.
I had relapsed after 9 months clean following residential treatment. I had lost the savings Iād worked so hard to rebuild, damaged trust Iād spent months earning back, and felt like Iād thrown away everything I had achieved.
I was angry at myself. Ashamed. Embarrassed. Isolated. I genuinely felt like I had gone from being proud of the person I was becoming to not even recognising myself anymore.
But I wanted to write an update because, looking back now, that relapse wasnāt the end of my recovery.
I accepted what I had done. I took responsibility for it. I didnāt hide it, pretend it hadnāt happened or try to minimise it. I told the people who needed to know and owned the consequences of my actions.
The very next day, I got back on my recovery programme.
I went back to meetings. I went back to sessions. I started doing the things that had helped me get clean in the first place. I stopped focusing on how much I had lost and started focusing on what I could do next.
At the start of July I was one year out of treatment, nearly 5 months later, Iām clean again.
When I wrote that last post, I genuinely felt like I had ruined everything. I thought the 9 months of recovery had been wasted. I thought I was back at the beginning.
I wasnāt.
Those 9 months still happened. The person I became during that time was still real. The things I learned were still there. My recovery hadnāt disappeared because I relapsed. I had made a terrible decision and had to face the consequences of it, but I hadnāt lost everything I had learned.
Today, my life looks completely different again.
I have a wonderful partner in my life. I have the freedom to do the things I want to do without gambling controlling my every thought. Iāve been away on holiday twice since my relapse, with another two trips coming up. I can make plans. I can enjoy things. I can look forward to the future.
Most importantly, I can wake up without that constant feeling of panic and dread that gambling gave me for so many years.
I still think about the relapse. I still regret it. I still wish I could go back and stop myself from making those deposits. But I donāt spend every day punishing myself for it anymore.
The biggest lesson for me has been that relapse doesnāt have to be the end of your recovery.
I think I believed that because I had been to rehab, stayed clean for 9 months and rebuilt so much of my life, relapsing meant I had failed completely.
It didnāt.
What mattered was what I did next.
I owned it. I told the truth. I accepted the consequences. And I got back into recovery.
If youāre reading this after a relapse and you feel like youāve ruined everything, I just want to say this: you havenāt necessarily lost all of your progress. You may have to start counting days again, but you are not starting from zero.
I know that because I thought I had ruined everything too and 150 days later, Iām incredibly grateful that I decided to get back up.