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This is a question I Quit!

Scaryduck writes, "I celebrated my last day on my paper round by giving everybody next door's paper, and the house at the end 16 copies of the Maidenhead Advertiser. And I kept the delivery bag. That certainly showed 'em."

What have you flounced out of? Did it have the impact you intended? What made you quit in the first place?

(, Thu 22 May 2008, 12:15)
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My mistake
I used to run my own business, and I was pretty successful too. It was a freight-logistics firm employing 23 people. So, not huge but quite a substantial company and given the industry we focussed on it was quite lucrative. We worked with refrigerated goods and used RFID for logging and monitoring – so relatively high tech and there was always a time and temperature imperative. We were good at our work and so were able to charge a premium. Quite stressful though, keeping everything coordinated.

I was pretty focussed on my job, and to be honest I was proud of what I had achieved. I’d built this company up from nothing. But I guess it’s a familiar story – I neglected the other important parts of my life. To cut a long story short, my wife left me in ’03 and took my two daughters with her. I started drinking a lot and buried myself even deeper in my work. Worse, while I had always been a smoker, I now started smoking weed. That is when I really started getting into trouble, as it triggered a psychotic episode.

At first it was nothing too bad; just sometimes hearing things other people didn’t hear. I saw a doctor and got put on Fluanxol. That didn’t help. I tried some other pills and they were no better. My problems got worse and these voices really started to take control. Somehow they were, and probably correctly in hindsight to be honest, telling me that my business was the cause of all my problems and I should sell it.

Now that’s a big call. I had worked really hard, was living very comfortably thank you, plus I had 23 people relying on me for a job. But I was ill, and these thoughts in my head wouldn’t go away and they sort of eroded any form of resistance. So I sold my business. And for much less than it was worth. I must admit though, I felt a huge relief once that was done. Much less stress. I still had these reality distortions however and I tried various drugs like Etrafon and Haloperidol, but to no avail. I was sort of happier, but way off balance. At least I was cashed up, so that was good, or so I thought.

Turns out it was bad. I had been used to a healthy cash flow and now that was finished. I just had a bulk sum which would logically decrease over time. I started getting ideas for making more money. I’m sad to say that my deluded state, at that time (I’m better now), led me to think I could make lots of money through gambling. It was a strange thing – my rational brain was telling me that gambling is for losers, but these voices in my head kept drumming out the same message about the spin of a wheel being my salvation. I’d try and push these thoughts away, but they would come back. Always come back. I’d wake in the middle of the night with this nagging narration explaining how I should risk everything, or be nothing.

In the end it wore me down. I couldn’t shake it. I’d spoken to even more doctors about it by now; I even flew to the U.S. to get help, but to no avail. I just could not get rid of these voices instructing me that I could only redeem myself though spinning the wheel. Eventually, and to my eternal shame, I gave in. I just couldn’t fight it any more. My life was in tatters and I could see no way out. I started believing what the voices said. I started to believe I could gamble it all and, on one game of chance, be set for life. That is how sad things had become.

So, I headed to Las Vegas, hoping for some sort of release I guess. But as soon as I got onto the plane the voices got worse. You know how when you over exert yourself and you can feel the blood pumping through your head, almost hurting as it does so? That is what this was like, except the pumping was a voice, like a drum I could feel; sort of a physical mantra. It was so strange because I had moments of lucidity where I knew that this was, quite literally, madness. But there was this beating, a throbbing really, of ‘Caesar’s Palace’ pounding in my head. I spent the whole flight gripped by those two words piercing my brain - my whole body in fact.

When I landed in Vegas I got out of the airport in a sort of trance. Very hard to explain, but I wasn’t operating like a normal person anymore, even though I knew reality was still there. These voices continually instructing me, the same two words over and over, but at the same time they were sort of steering me too. If that makes sense... like, I had jumped in a cab and asked to be taken to Caesar’s Palace before I even realised it. I can remember feeling sweaty and scared, but at the same time really buzzing.

Anyway, I got to the casino and got out of the cab, and as soon as I did the auditory hallucinations changed. ‘Roulette, roulette, roulette, roulette, roulette, roulette, roulette’. Like a white noise, but with clear definition, if you know what I mean. And it got louder and louder as I walked into the place. My pulse was racing and I felt completely powerless as my feet marched me to the roulette table, but at the same time I was positively wired! I sat down, and as soon as I did the voices changed to ‘Black 24, black 24, black24, black24,black24black24black24’. By now I was so charged up and completely under the control of these inner instructors that I spoke to the pit boss and asked for the table stakes to be raised. To tell you the truth, this is where the bizarreness really gets to me these days, because somehow I, an unknown, got the ok. I won’t tell you how much the limit was but let’s just say it was set to a very large sum. And people knew it too, so a small crowd gathered to watch the drama. I was so pumped – and the voices in my head were chanting ‘black24black24black24black24 black24black24black24black24’ over and over, like super intense and so fast and blurred it was as if it was one word, one continuous order. It was all I could hear. And in truth, it was all I could see and all I could feel too. The voices had taken complete control. So I dumped what was left of my life financially down on black 24. The croupier spun the wheel and dropped the white ball. The wheel whizzed around one way, the ball the other way. The voices kept on with ‘black24black24black24black24’... and then things went into treacle motion as the wheel came gently to a halt and the ball bounced around the rim, ever more slowly, and then settled in a slot. Red 36. And the voices said ‘Fuck’.
(, Sat 24 May 2008, 5:11, 3 replies)
Ohhh, I like this story.
One thing though, gambling's not for losers, unless you lose. Ceasers palace is a good example, owned by Hurrah's entertainment, a company that makes most of it's revenue from gambling, and is the largest company in the world, hardly a loser is it. So how do they constantly win? Easy, they only play games where they have a small mathematical advantage, then over time they watch the money roll in.

So, tips for a gambler, find a game where you can work the maths in your favour, do the maths and watch your bankroll grow over time. It's called Texas Hold 'em. I love it.
(, Sat 24 May 2008, 6:57, closed)
*click*
Love the story, were it not for the old chestnut of a joke in the final paragraph.

Great build up though!
(, Sat 24 May 2008, 8:56, closed)
I know this story...
I used this story as a way of explaining how I felt once I got into university. It was like the voices had been telling me for years what to do next, do this course, go to this college next. I got into uni, felt totally out of my depth and hated every minute of it, and it felt like the voices just said "sorry". Lives and learns.
(, Sat 24 May 2008, 23:00, closed)

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