Worst. Episode. Ever

I put off writing this entry as long as I could. I hit one of the lowest points in my poker life this week.

On Sunday night I won the multi-table tournament and gave myself a really nice bankroll to play with. 72 hours later I was in the middle of a drunken bout of full-on tilt, throwing away almost the last of what I had won.

Thank heavens I finally reached the point of quitting and going to bed, with just enough money left to try to recover the next day. But overall I am disgusted with myself. I lost a couple of big 60/40 pots, sure, but overall I played like an idiot. I was trying to be more aggressive than usual, but was not clear-headed enough to lay hands down when the situation obviously demanded it.

What a waste of an opportunity.

Still, there is no point dwelling on it. I’ve been trying to put my considerable sangfroid to use ever since in trying to accept it and make a fresh start. I’ve succeeded fairly well, playing a little smaller even than usual and making quite easy, steady wins. Gently does it.

But still, what a waste of an opportunity to get out of this rut of cannibalising the bankroll at the end of each month. I could finally have grown it to a level where I could still make some withdrawals yet see it grow overall.

Now I am itching to get home and find my two books have arrived. Not optimistic, the won’t go through the letterbox and I am sure my arsewipe housemates (either unemployed, shift-working or reclusive) won’t have been able to drag themselves to the front door when a postman knocked in the morning.