I Turned My Anxiety into a Quiet Ritual

I used to scroll through late-night screens chasing ‘Lucky Rabbit’ games—each spin felt like a whispered promise from some ancient oracle. The animations glowed gold; the sounds hummed like distant gongs. I thought if I just bet enough, I’d be rich.

The Algorithm Was Never the Answer

But the system doesn’t reward effort—it rewards distraction. Every win was a flicker; every loss, a shadow on the wall. My therapist at UCL called it ‘digital escapism.’ Not gambling. A ritual.

How Silence Became My Currency

I stopped betting when my hands trembled. Instead, I sat by my window at 3 AM—the same one where my Indian father meditated and my Irish mother left tea steaming on porcelain. No jackpots here. Just breath.

The Rabbit Doesn’t Win—You Do

They call it ‘high-risk’ or ‘low-stakes.’ But true wealth isn’t in the bonus wheel—it’s in the pause between spins. In that quiet space between algorithm and soul, you remember: you are not meant to chase luck.

You Were Always Meant to Rest

If you’ve lost three times? Don’t double down. Close your tabs. Walk outside where fog lingers over garden paths. Let the RNG do its work—not for you—but with you.

Join me tonight—not as a player—but as someone who remembers what silence feels like when it’s finally allowed to be still.