You’re in Vegas. You’re down $8,000 of the $10,000 you stole to gamble with. If you don’t break even and make it back to San Diego by Monday at five, you face jail time for check fraud. It’s Monday at Three. You keep losing, but you can’t walk away. You’re in too deep. You’re Mikael Y.
Mikael’s life was not always marked by the chaos of the bet. It started off with a wonderful family—a sister and two parents who showered him with love. Both of his parents are originally from Ethiopia, which heavily impacted the way he was raised here in Los Angeles. His house was a little slice of the homeland and he loved every second of it. When his father first installed cable in his house, it was a revolution for Mikael. Why? Because it came with the discovery of sports. He instantly fell in love, watching games all of the time. A memory he looks back on with pride and a sense of nostalgic joy is when his father coached his little league soccer team. “He took time out of his business to be there for me.”
In middle school, Mikael had a clarinet recital and decided to eat a burger beforehand. If you know anything about wind instruments, you should know that you are not meant to eat before playing them. During the concert, Mikael’s stomach started to rumble. Initially, he tried to ignore it, push it down, subdue the feeling of impending doom. But it became too much. In the middle of the recital, he threw up. The following day, his stomach was in knots only a sailor could tie and his mom rushed him to the hospital. The doctors diagnosed him with Crohn’s disease. This caused him to miss half of the next school year, gain 90 pounds, and live in agonizing pain for months. Eventually, the symptoms subsided, but he always had to (and has to) stay vigilant to avoid a relapse.
In sophomore year of high school, at 15 years old, one of Mikael’s buddies asked if he wanted to make a bet on the Super Bowl. It seemed innocent enough to Mikael. So, he used the five dollars his mom gave him for lunch and gave it to his friend. When his team won, that beast inside of him had awoken. “Little did I know I was pushing all the chips of my life into the middle of the room of a spiral that was going to take me 25 years to come to my senses.”
In his Junior year, he started betting more with one of his friends. That five-dollar bet became $20 bets. Every single day he would place bets with his friend. If that first bet was with his lunch money, how did he afford all of this? He didn’t. It was all on credit. Within the next six months, he lost $600. So, simply to pay his debt off, he got a summer job. Every penny from that job went to his friend and the debt he owed him. By the end of the summer, the debt was paid…just in time for basketball season. While his friends were having the normal high school experience—hanging out by the bleachers, playing sports, puppy love—Mikael was chasing the next bet. He refused to wave the white flag. “We’re going for round two, but, by that time, round two turned from $600 into $20,000 in the matter of a year.” All on credit. As a 17 year old kid. “I robbed myself of the joy of the last moments I would have as a kid.”
Life became attempting to lower his debt just enough to continue betting. He brought it down to five grand, once he entered community college. But once the door was opened for him to gamble again, the debt he accrued had risen to $100,000. Mikael started to isolated—eat, sleep, and breathe gambling. He had no cell phone, no car, no liscense. Everything he thought he needed to mature alluded him. The only thing he had was a double life and an Everest of debt.
One day, his friend asked him if he wanted to join him in a hustle. The plan was to take money out of his friend’s parents’ bank account and gamble with it in Vegas. “The kicker here was that I would be the one forging the check. So, the responsibility if anything goes down would be on my end.” With the help of a corrupt bank teller in San Deigo, their plan was in action. Win money. Get the ten grand back in the account by Monday at five. They both turned off their phones, packed nothing, and headed to Las Vegas. Knowing they couldn’t rent a room, lest they be tracked, they slept in the car and did not bathe. Once they sat at their very first blackjack table, the downward spiral began. Loss after loss after loss and they could not stop. They tried various card games and sports games, but nothing seemed fruitful. Sunday, 105-degree heat, five grand down. Mikael sat in his friend’s car and watched him cry. “I should have been the one crying.” Monday came and went, and they were still stuck at the table. Eventually, they turned their phones on and an influx of missed calls and texts came through. He called his cousin and told them he was in Vegas and he had potentially ruined his life. The house of cards was crumbling down. When he returned home, he would have to admit to his parents everything he had kept secret for the last eight years. But when all hope seemed lost, his friend started winning. He won so much that they made it back up to ten grand. Then, in a moment that truly only an addict can understand, he went back to the table. Out of pure luck, he managed to win more and Mikael took that ten grand and walked out of the casino. “That was the only clear-headed thing I did in those whole eight years.” His friend would go on to lose the rest of the money.
When they, finally made it back to LA, Mikael told his mom everything and she decided he needed to stay with his uncle in Texas to get help. He stayed with his uncle for three years…but he didn’t get help. His gambling continued with no chance of stopping. Through the next few years, he discovered his love of alcohol and cocaine—adding fuel to the fire that was already burning his life to the ground. He was in a meaningful relationship that ended in 2019 and then, a year later, his father died…and of course, the entire world shut down. By that point, Mikael had found a new low. A bottom he didn’t think he could ever hit. Isolated to an extent he did not think possible. In his mind, all he had left was gambling. After noticing how awful he was doing, his mom sent him to treatment in Washington…but without the willingness to stop on his own, he continued to gamble the whole time.
After cashing out the 401K he had worked his entire life for, Mikael’s mom told him, “If you lose this money and aren’t willing to get help, you aren’t welcome in this house.” Two days later, he left his key on the doorstep, packed up what he needed, and started sleeping in his car. Welcome to rock bottom. “I was in a hyper-focused mode of gambling. Nothing else mattered. It was pitch black out.” While staying in his car, he decided to eat In-N-Out late one night. This triggered a Crohn’s flareup. With nowhere open to go to the bathroom, he soiled himself right there in his car. His mom, from the kindness of her heart, let him shower at home. Embarrassed and ashamed, he thought, “Why am I still doing this to myself?” and then continued to gamble for the next three months.
Ten years earlier, his family heard of Beit T’Shuvah. So, when he was finally ready to accept help, Mikael started the IOP gambling program. For many, that program is life-changing, for Mikael however, it wasn’t enough. He needed something more. He needed to be a resident. So, he moved into Beit T’Shuvah and everything changed. The community surrounded him with a loving embrace and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t alone. Mikael saw so many people who were just like him—addicts in recovery. Addicts with love in their hearts that they desperately wanted to share with him. He was overwhelmed.
In an admirable act of self-control, Mikael decided that there were aspects of his life he wasn’t ready for when he first got here. So, he gave up his smartphone and got a flip phone, he gave away all his access to the internet, and he let his mom fully manage his finances. Mikael had finally accepted powerlessness and it was working. “This is where I have been the safest, the cleanest, and the most peaceful in my mind,” Mikael told me while looking off into the distance, clearly realizing just how far he has come in the six months he has been here. “What was a 15-minute drive, or a three-hour walk turned into a 25-year circle around and around. In the Torah, as Moses was leading the Israelites— he didn’t just let them go to the promised land. What was supposed to be a three-week journey ended up being 40 years.”
You’re in Beit T’Shuvah. You’re six months clean from gambling. A life beyond your wildest dreams is coming true each and every day because of the work you are doing, the love you put into your community, and the fire for recovery that burns within you. Never has gambling helped you succeed…except for once. The last bet. The bet you made on yourself when you walked through these doors. You are Mikael Y. and you are a grateful member of this community.