Jess Stewart’s desire to become an advocate for problem gamblers was born while he was at Project Turnabout for residential gambling treatment in 2016. Four years later, he’s proven to be a highly motivated, steadfast voice for those afflicted with gambling disorder.
After graduating from Project Turnabout, Jess returned to his native Ohio (Jess was unable to find residential treatment in Ohio). He immediately sought out organizations involved with problem gambling to determine how he might contribute as an advocate. Jess soon forged a connection with the Problem Gambling Network of Ohio (PGNO), signaling the start of a great new journey. He subsequently attended national conferences and recovery meetings, became a PGNO board member, participated in a symposium for Recovery Resources in Cleveland, and led a session at the 2020 Ohio Problem Gambling Conference. “Everything sort of snowballed in a good way for me as if it were meant to be,” says Jess.
Jess found that he had unique value to add because of his lived experience. “I can tell a very real story to influence legislators about gambling issues. When someone shares their story in person, they have to hear it, and it changes the way they think about it. I also remind them to think about the legacy they want to leave.”
Jess has reached out to legislators by email, letter and phone calls, written op-eds for newspapers and done television interviews. He’s also passionate about the language of “addiction.” “I think the term ‘addict’ creates a stigma that keeps people from coming out to the forefront and getting help.”
Jess has contributed in other ways. For example, he’s supported the use of “warm transfers” on the Ohio state helpline, giving individuals calling in the opportunity to speak with and be assessed by a certified gambling counselor. He’s also encouraging the state to add an advocate line, which would allow a caller to talk to a peer that’s experienced challenges with gambling, rather than a counselor that they might view as less relatable.
“You have to have compassion and understanding when talking to another person and treat them as you’d want to be treated,” he says. “That conversation just might save a life. That was the case for me after my initial call with Project Turnabout — I heard the voice of hope and understanding.”
Where does Jess’s passion come from and what motivates him to be so energetic about the cause? “I believe if you’re aware of what you can do that you have a moral obligation to speak out and help others. I wasn’t willing to be silent because I’ve read and heard so many sad stories. I respect others who decide not to share their story or to be in the forefront, but for me that just isn’t an option.”
My nearly 50-year relationship with gambling started when I was six years old. My father, an illegal sports bettor, introduced me to gambling and would take me to sporting events everywhere he placed bets. I remember that he would split his winnings with me on baseball bets because I knew the sport better than him.
This continued until about age 17 when my mother — and best friend — died suddenly. The trauma from that started a period of depression that changed my relationship with my father.
The situation with my father caused me to move out of the house at a time when I really wasn’t prepared for life. I worked six days a week and went to school five days a week. To break up the monotony, I went to the local dog track. It was a great stress reliever and provided some excitement from the pain of my day-to-day life.
That started an off-and-on cycle of gambling that would last until four years ago. I went from dog racing to horse racing to the lottery (casinos wouldn’t come until the mid 90s). I took my first trip to Las Vegas around that time and that changed everything for me.
My gambling became more aggressive and I started spending money from paychecks that should have gone to bills. I started borrowing on credit cards, maxed them out, and then stole from my employer to gamble. That led to charges, and I eventually ended up spending three years in prison.
You might think that spending three years in incarceration would have changed everything for me and that I’d value the opportunity to start anew. And I did — at least for several years. But about four years after my release from prison in December 2003, I went to Las Vegas again and binge gambled for an entire week. Things continued to spiral down from there.
By 2008, I knew I had a problem and sought help. That’s really when my recovery should have started.
Unfortunately, the agency where I sought help did not have a certified gambling counselor. And although I poured out my heart and soul, the counselor diagnosed me with depression. At the end of my intake session, I’ll never forget what she said: “You have to admit that you’ve brought all this upon yourself.” Needless to say, I didn’t feel I was provided with the support and help I needed and, despite my heartfelt intentions and desire to get help for my gambling addiction, I didn’t have success.
In 2012, I went on another Vegas binge, but this was worse. I came home feeling humiliated, frustrated and broken. I’d spent all this time on counseling and had nothing to show for it.
Finally, in 2016, after my worst binge of all, I’d had enough. I told my wife I needed to gain control of myself or I’d kill myself.
I looked online for inpatient treatment options and ultimately landed on Project Turnabout. I sensed an immediate understanding on their part. I knew they could give me my life back and rebuild me from the inside out. I learned so much. Ultimately, my experience in residential gambling treatment motivated me not just to embark on my own recovery, but also to help others as much as I can and to take a leadership role. I have since become a strong advocate for problem gamblers by sharing my experience with as many people as possible.
I sometimes think about the experience I had in 2008, when the counselor I saw was ill equipped to help me and only added to the stigma that I had failed. Had that counselor better understood problem gambling, I believe I could have started my recovery eight years earlier. But I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that that experience helped me to become the advocate I am today.
For me, gambling led to two lifechanging experiences.
The first changed me for the worse. The second connected me to a support network I’d never had before.
My first experience gambling was when my brother gave me $20 and took me to a casino. His intent was to teach me a lesson in how easy it is to throw money away gambling. Our birth father had a gambling addiction that devastated my brother’s childhood and he didn’t want the same thing to happen to me. (I was adopted at an early age and escaped those consequences.) But the problem with that lesson was that I actually turned that $20 into $60, and I guess I became unknowingly hooked.
The next time I gambled was several years later when I was out on a date after I’d been divorced and gone through having breast cancer. I just loved it. So much so that I went back the next day by myself. I enjoyed not having to answer to anyone. I’d been through a lot and figured I deserved to have fun.
I started going to the casinos more often. I’d make the 200-mile drive from Wichita to casinos in Kansas City and sometimes even further to play at larger casinos. It was a big investment of time and money, but I looked forward to it.
What started as recreation and something fun to do, became an obsession. I probably gambled for more than 20 years.
It got to the point where I lost a whole paycheck. That was the most irresponsible thing I’d ever done. I remember thinking, “What the hell?!” I endeavored that that would never happen again, but it did.
Things got scarier and scarier. I lied about where I was going and to friends about the reasons I needed money. At the same time, I felt pressure to provide for my girls. I convinced myself that I would try to win to pay everyone back and pay my bills. It got so bad, I started writing bad checks and stealing.
I couldn’t reconcile the person I had become with the person I thought I was. I didn’t understand then — because I didn’t know about gambling addiction — but now I realize I was in the throes of addiction.
I couldn’t keep up with rent and was continually evicted. I ended up living in my car, which I tried to hide. I then lost my job because I performed badly after being out all night gambling.
I decided I was going to kill myself. I went to the Emergency Room and explained that I felt suicidal. The staff wanted to admit me but I convinced them I’d be OK and left.
A short time later, I found myself back in the hospital parking lot, ready to go back in, but I fell asleep in my car. That’s when the first of several extraordinary moments happened. A security guard knocked on the window, waking me up. She walked me into the hospital, where I was admitted to the Behavior Health unit and for a week had three meals a day and a roof over my head.
The next extraordinary moment occurred when the social worker at the hospital, who knew about gambling addiction, recommended a residential gambling treatment center in Minnesota (Vanguard Center for Gambling Recovery at Project Turnabout) where I could go at no cost. She made the arrangements and, not trusting I wouldn’t try to go back to gambling after treatment, made me think about planning my life after I finished treatment.
I finally told my daughters about everything and they were very supportive. I felt this, too, was extraordinary.
I expected to return to Wichita but Sheryl Anderson, program coordinator at Vanguard, convinced me that I’d be better off starting a new life of sober living in Minneapolis, where I could live with other recovering addicts and learn how to build a life without gambling. Another extraordinary moment in the series was having John Rundquist as my counselor after I left Vanguard. He has made such a difference for me.
Perhaps the crowning extraordinary moment was getting involved in Gamblers Anonymous (GA). Through GA, I have met such wonderful people that have supported me in my recovery and in so many other ways. It is such a gift to be honest, to be accepted and to be understood.
The COVID-19 pandemic has affected virtually all aspects of life. Gambling counseling is no exception.
Given the drastic reduction in social contact, we asked several gambling counselors about the state of gambling therapy and the changes they’ve observed.
Lisa Vig, Gamblers Choice More of our clients are keeping appointments than we anticipated. It tells me that staying connected to recovery support is very important at this time. They have also been initiating and requesting additional individual support as well.
We use a variety of platforms, including Teams, Zoom and the phone. One accommodation we’ve had to make using these platforms is reducing the size of groups. It’s more difficult to manage attention spans, allowances for everyone to talk and receive the attention they need with eight or nine in one group. We’ve adapted by offering shorter groups, more often, with fewer attendees.
As a counselor, I find that takes a different level of energy to conduct telehealth counseling. When you’re not in the same room sharing the same space, you have to pay more attention to their voice, inflections, participation and engagement since the ability to watch body language or other expressions is compromised. The clients we have worked with have expressed gratitude at every opportunity to stay connected.
I think telehealth counseling has a very valuable place, especially in this part of the country where we are dealing with rural living and limited availability of counselors. At least 50 percent of our clients would benefit from the option of telecounseling. Being able to utilize a combination of in person and telecounseling to customize delivery of treatment services would be ideal.
Craig Johnson, Club Recovery Once all of my clients became used to the change and requirements of the stay-at-home orders, my group attendance has been good. Most clients are participating and “showing” up for group.
Except for rare occasions, we are completely virtual. We use phone or a Telehealth platform to conduct interactions with all clients at every level of service we provide.
While counseling is not a “one size fits all” process, I think that at some level and some circumstances all clients can benefit from using a Telehealth platform. We need to adapt and move forward with as many innovations in reaching out to clients that we can. Since the beginning of the COVID-19 crisis, the treatment community has been advocating vigorously for the use of Telehealth platforms and CMS and DHS recently approved that all services we provide can be done with Telehealth. Telehealth is a capability that we must keep as an option to use when a client may not be able to access services via traditional means.
There is a great need for gambling disorder providers outside of the Twin Cities, Duluth and near Fargo. Without Telehealth, potential clients in those areas would not be able to get services. As a community of providers we must promote this capability wherever and whenever possible to reach all those who need help. This will be the main topic of discussion at the next meeting of the DHS Advisory Committee on Gambling Disorder on May 14.
Paul Mladnick, Solo Practice/Bridges & Pathways I don’t think Telehealth counseling is ideal but I don’t think that much is lost. About half of my clients prefer to cancel appointments until we have the all clear. I’d say about 30 percent are coming to my office while about 20 percent are receiving counseling over the phone.
From a practical perspective, I am keeping my office sanitized prior to each session and I do practice social distancing in my office. I have noticed that the number of referrals is down since March 17, so I have considerable availability for those with a gambling problem or those concerned for family and friends.
We asked some of Minnesota’s certified problem gambling counselors for their thoughts on the barriers for Minnesotans receiving problem gambling treatment. Here is what they said:
Cheryl Minx, Director, Freedom Center, Inc. I think people may not realize help is free to those who need it. Many people think if they’re broke and in trouble financially that there is no way to pay for help. I also think that the helplines are not very visible so that people don’t know how to find help.
Christina Pristash, MS, LMFT There can be many contributing factors that interfere with a person reaching out for help or accessing treatment for problem gambling. I know that personal fears get in the way as well as individuals/families not knowing what resources are available and/or what makes a person qualify for help. We are fortunate to have an inpatient option in our state as well as outpatient treatment options, but many people aren’t aware of these resources or the differences between the two. Continued education and information sharing will continue to create fewer barriers for people, but choosing change is still always going to be hard.
Dawn Cronin, LSW NCGC Gamblers Choice, Lutheran Social Services of ND I think a significant barrier is the nonpayment to phone counseling providers. While most providers recognize phone sessions are not the preferred method for counseling, they are necessary at times. I believe the many rural areas of Minnesota and the frequent poor winter driving conditions are putting severe limitations and interruptions in treatment participation for clients. I have three clients over the age of 62 traveling over 50 miles one way for treatment who have had to interrupt treatment because of travel conditions. We also have limited numbers of Gamblers Anonymous meetings in these rural areas so we are unable to encourage participation at these meetings for the same reasons.
Craig Johnson, LADC, Club Recovery One of the greatest barriers is the lack of understanding by insurance companies, or just plain recognition, that gambling disorder is the exact same as any other psychological disorder as described in the DSM 5. I also think that clients are often told that gambling disorder is not covered and so they stop right there.
I have heard that a large hospital program discourages clients who do not have private pay insurance from seeking services because the reimbursement rate from the state gambling fund is significantly lower than what a given provider might pay.
There is a distinct lack of providers in outstate Minnesota, where access to treatment can be a challenge. We need to push telehealth as a way to reach individuals who either don’t have the means or the access to a provider near their home. I think that prevention programs need to include education on gambling disorder.
Programs aimed at young adults mention the opioid crisis, the vaping crisis, legalizing marijuana and so on, but often do not even mention gambling.
Lisa Vig, LAC, NCGC, Gamblers Choice I’m concerned about those who live in rural Minnesota who may not have access to a trained counselor, access to a GA meeting and may not have reliable transportation or funds to travel the necessary distance to receive treatment and support. We need to explore other options to reach these individuals, such as phone counseling, telehealth treatment and/or online resources. The challenge to find appropriate, reputable financial management services for this population in conjunction with treatment is also a concern.
Paul Mladnick, LADC, NCGC, LMFT, Bridges and Pathways Counseling Services One barrier that I see is a lack of awareness of gambling treatment services and that financial help is available for Minnesota residents, so I think we need to do more to advertise gambling treatment resources.
Also, there is still much ignorance over problem gambling and many people still think this is more of a moral problem or a lack of common sense. An educational campaign to alert people that this, too, is an addiction that can happen to anyone would be helpful.
Do you have a thought on barriers to treatment that you’d like to share? If so, please send your comment to sstucker@mnapg.org.
I was five months pregnant with our second daughter in August 2014 when I received a call from my husband that would forever change my life. He told me he had won $20,000 at a casino — $10,000 in cash and $10,000 in a check. I figured we’d use the money towards paying off debt and giving generously to our church.
I was surprised by this news because I wasn’t aware that he was going to the casino. When I asked him about it, he told me he’d been going for a few months. All the while he seemed tired, but I knew that something was not right with him. I later learned that he’d been gambling a lot longer than a few months when I noticed gambling activity started to show up in our credit union accounts. I also discovered that he was using money he’d put away for our daughter and started dipping into his bill money. When I confronted him about it all, he always told me he could stop whenever he wanted.
He continued to gamble after our daughter was born. He eventually made a bad personal decision and lost the job he’d held for eight years in May 2015. I was working part-time and he was the primary breadwinner. Without his $45,000 income, we were in trouble. He continued a downward spiral into depression, anxiety, cross addiction with drinking, scratch off lottery tickets, candy crush and deeper into gambling.
The stress created by my husband’s addiction took a toll on me. My blood pressure spiked and I developed alopecia in the front of my hairline. That was a wakeup call!
By August, I sought help and learned about Gamblers Anonymous (GA) for my husband and Gam-Anon for myself. He went to GA once and refused to go again. But for me, going to Gam-Anon turned out to be the next big thing that would change my life.
On numerous occasions my husband admitted to me that he had a problem, but refused to seek treatment. After being separated for a few years I filed for divorce, which was finalized in June 2019 so I could chart my own path. I am now the primary breadwinner and speak at the annual GA/Gam-Anon conference. I have focused on my career as well as learning about addiction and recovery and how to better support people that come after me, because there will always be more addicts and families affected by addiction.
I was asked what advice I might give to other spouses and families who are going through the same thing that I went through. I would tell them that addiction is a time sucker, a hell of a roller coaster ride and that even in the midst of the storm they need to realize the importance of self-care — choosing joy and finding their own purpose.
It’s easy to become so co-dependent on the addict that you stop living your life. There are things spouses and family members can do to protect themselves if the problem gambler isn’t willing to get help. Some of these things include:
Knowledge is power — learn as much as you can about addiction and how it’s an actual mental illness.
Control your financial assets and don’t allow the gambler’s behavior to damage your credit or your mortgage.
Don’t enable and bail out the gambler by helping with gambling-related debts.
Get the support you need from people who understand your situation, such as what Gam-Anon offers.
These were hard lessons to learn. It’s unfortunate that I had to go through this but if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have a story to tell and be able to influence others. The ability to speak at an annual conference, for example, is a door that never would have been opened if I didn’t have a spouse that’s an addict.
One day, my ex-husband will realize what he has thrown away and will choose recovery for himself. For me, I am excited for new beginnings. To create new traditions and memories for my daughters. I’m in control of my future and looking forward to writing the next chapter.
The state of Minnesota offers 12 sessions of family therapy (per year) through the state problem gambling program when visiting an approved provider. An approved provider list can be found here.
