That Bitch called Losing

Losing teaches us much more than what winning does. It teaches us ways of finding possible root cause, dig deep and feel better about it by feeling worse.  
Life's like Poker at these times;
You tell yourself to wait for that good hand which may or may
never come, and you slowly watch your stack of chips drain out without any impact on the table.  

What started off as a harmless visit to Atlantic city, ended up to an experience of a lifetime. I thought I'd play slow, pace myself and cash out the moment I'd hit a breakeven mark. Amongst the table with Italians, Koreans and Afro-Americans, I slowly count my chips, I've almost hit that break even mark. "But I just got here, maybe a little more". I hear the discussions around the table were about my play. I loved the attention. I kid myself into believing that I can actually walk out with a big win and make that impact. I'm almost out of jail and  recovered my losses. I step away to take a leak break, and I get back feeling confident than ever. Oh, that blood rush. But a few hands don't go as planned, and I start seeing a small seepage in my full-sized tank. I see the stack slowly capsizing. I am pissed at myself, my resolve to be rock solid is slowly turning to dust.
And with the heat of it all, i place big bets, stupid bets. Why didn't I walk out when I had the chance? Of all the decisions I could've have made at that time, why did I go for the most stupidest way out? 
Even now, as I write this, I think about how i kept convincing myself that the stack sitting in front would be cashed-in right away, just 2 more hands. The vision of the Fort Knox reduce to nothing in a matter of a few stupid decisions plays on like a non stop tape in my mind.  
As I Watch my stack slowly capsize, I end up being pissed at myself for even being in this position. How could I let my emotions take over mind, blind me- to the extent that i am just left with myself  regretting.
I walk out with nothing in hand, only a big ass debt to remind me of being such a fool. I only wonder how long would I take until I snap out of this wretched feeling. Hell, this is just what I needed. A chance to fucking snap back at myself, a kick in the ass- tell me to get up to tell me how insignificant this is. 
How insignificant. This is something I know I can direct my mind out of. I shouldn't let this thought consume me so much that I trash the rest of my hard earned holiday.

Losing is easy. That feeling of regret is hard. Recovering from it is the hardest.

I am stronger than this, and if this is the "holy shit" jolt I needed, it was a damn good one.

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