It started with something so small. I didn’t think it would get out of hand. It was just a game, something I could do for fun to escape the stress of life. Aviator was the game.
A simple concept. You place your money, wait for the plane to take off, and then withdraw before it crashes. If you were lucky, you got out before the plane came down.
If not, you lost everything. Sometimes the plane would go as high as 6999.00. I kept thinking about what I could do with that kind of money.
In the beginning, it was thrilling. The rush of watching the plane climb. I felt like I had control. I felt like this was my chance to fix everything.
To get out of debt, to provide for my children, to live a life I had always dreamed of. The wins were small at first but enough to keep me going. Enough to convince me that I was on the right path.
But as time went on, I wanted more. Small wins weren’t enough. I started betting more and more, telling myself that the next round would be the big one. But the more I played, the more I lost.
Every time the plane crashed, I felt that sinking feeling. The pit in my stomach grew. The money I lost wasn’t just numbers. It was my life, my future.
I started spending more time on the game, less time with my children. I stopped taking care of the things that mattered.
The bills piled up. I stopped paying attention to my kids. I wasn’t being the mother I wanted to be. Every day was consumed by the game.
Every loss left me desperate to get back what I had lost. Every win made me think I was one step closer to everything I ever wanted.
The losses started to take a toll. The more I lost, the more I bet. The more I bet, the more I lost. The fear, the shame, the guilt — it all became too much.
I started locking myself away. I stopped talking to my friends. I couldn’t share the shame. I couldn’t explain why I couldn’t stop playing.
Then one night, everything crashed. I had lost it all. I was sitting in the dark, staring at my phone.
The screen was still glowing, but I felt nothing. I thought about my children, how they had no idea what was happening.
They were so innocent. So unaware. It broke me to think I had failed them.
That night, I thought about ending it all. I thought they would be better off without me. I thought I was the problem. But in that moment, something inside me said, “You’re not done yet.”
I remembered something a friend had told me months ago. She had mentioned someone who could help.
A healer, someone who had helped others when they felt lost. I had dismissed it before, but now I felt desperate. I had nothing left to lose. I reached out.
I didn’t expect much. I didn’t expect a miracle. But within days, I began to feel a shift. It wasn’t immediate, but I could feel it.
My mind felt clearer. The anxiety started to ease. For the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe again. I didn’t have to play the game. I didn’t have to chase something that would destroy me.
I began to make better choices. Slowly, I started to win again, but it wasn’t just about money. It was about regaining control of my life.
Paying off my debts. Taking care of my children again. I didn’t have to hide anymore. I could look them in the eye and tell them everything was going to be okay.
Seven months later, I’m driving a Range Rover TX. Something I never thought possible. My children are happy again. I’m happy again.
My life has changed in ways I didn’t think could happen. It’s not just about the car or the money. It’s about the peace I feel now.
I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t reached out for help. I’m not perfect. I still have a long way to go, but I’m no longer trapped.
If you feel like I did, if you feel stuck and hopeless, there is a way out. You don’t have to do this alone.
I reached out to Shaba Mangube Doctors, and they helped me when I thought all hope was lost. If you’re ready to turn your life around, if you need help, don’t hesitate. Contact Shaba Mangube Doctors or send them an email.
You don’t have to keep living in darkness. You can find your way back.
