My Boyfriend's Troubling Behavior

I've noticed two major changes in Jay's behavior in recent months. He spends a disproportionate amount of time talking about, thinking about, and planning to play poker. He's also lost interest in other things, such as food.

Take, for example, the night of my first poker-playing experience. What amounts to a spontaneous addendum to our vacation -- a stopover in Reno en route (well, roughly) to Lake Tahoe -- is in fact planned by Jay and willingly embraced by me. Food, which has been a major preoccupation on our trip thus far, ceases to matter in the enthralling glitter of the casino, where we skip meals and then settle for barely edible food of the ubiquitous buffet variety.

Most perplexing is Jay's reaction to the action itself, particularly to my loss of his money. In a little over three hours at the stud table, I win two decent hands, lose three big ones, and fold what seems like the interminable rest. Jennifer Harman, I am unmistakably not. Getting up from the table with half the money that Jay staked me with, I feel suddenly deflated and dimly apologetic; Jay, who reports that he was "crushed" at his hold 'em table, is inexplicably elated. "I was so proud watching you." He grins, pats my head. "Yesterday, you didn't know the rank of hands, and tonight you were holding your own at the table with your poker face on. I thought, 'That's my girl!'"

I figure it's only a matter of time before he starts to refer to me as his little lady.

Jay tells me he is "pumped" and wants to continue playing. I tell him I'm "tired" and leave him to the low-limit tables. He reports the next morning that it took him under two hours to win back what I had lost. I don't know whether to be impressed or worried.

According to the National Council on Problem Gambling, over 70 percent of people in the United States have gambled in the past year. Of those, two to three percent are "problem gamblers," whose gambling begins to negatively impact other areas of their life. An additional one percent -- or three million people nationwide -- meets the criteria for "pathological gambler" ("compulsive gambler," in lay terms), a clinical diagnosis that is defined as "persistent and recurring maladaptive gambling behavior." These behaviors include lying to family members to conceal the extent of gambling, committing illegal acts to finance gambling, and jeopardizing jobs and relationships because of gambling.

While the symptoms of pathological gambling seem clear, it's at the sub-clinical level -- the nebulous arena of problem gambling -- where the red flag behaviors are harder to identify, earning it the label "the hidden addiction."

Professionals suggest using the Gamblers Anonymous (or Gam-Anon) Twenty Questions lists -- there is one list for the gambler and another for people living with the gambler -- as a preliminary way to check whether the gambling is verging towards addiction.

Among these questions are two that stand out as I think about Jay's behavior: "Does this person immediately return to gambling to try to recover losses, or win more?" And, "Have you noticed a personality change in the gambler as his or her gambling progresses?"

Not that I'm about to suggest the 12-step program at this point. Then again, frequently the partner of a compulsive gambler is unwilling or unable to confront the problem. "Many times gamblers marry a co-dependent person -- someone who will cover up for them, pick up for them, try to bail them out time and again, convinced that they will change soon," says Edward Looney, executive director of the Council on Compulsive Gambling of New Jersey.

Ah. Maybe I'm the problem -- for escaping to bed.

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