I started gambling in the hallways of my middle school in Chicago when I was 9 or 10. My friends and I would play some corrupted version of poker; we’d give each other no interest loans, and be late for class.
I didn’t know it then, but this was the beginning of my years as a compulsive gambler. I was on my way to rock bottom—a place I’d go on to visit three times before I finally cleaned up my act.
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