A gambler's ultimate loss - his life: Suicide was a way out. "For me, it is the end of a deep and very powerful evil in which only the machine can win."

Not all VLT addicts who seek treatment kick their habit in time.

Buried among the 100 coroners' reports detailing suicides by compulsive gamblers in this province over the past eight years are some sad accounts of VLT addicts whose attempts to overcome their compulsion were ultimately in vain.

Gambler makes himself unwelcome; Psychologist tries to break his addiction with self-imposed ban at casinos

If Andy Dalrymple walks into Casino Rama outside Orillia, khaki- clad security police will spot him, march him out the door and possibly slap him with trespassing charges.

And that's just the way he wants it.

"I got myself banned at every casino from here to the mighty Niagara," says Dalrymple, once a prominent psychologist who is now trying to kick a gambling addiction that dragged him toward self- destruction and turned his wife and children against him.

She began by spending her life savings. When those funds were depleted, she blew her paycheques and maxed out her credit cards with cash advances, which she pumped into video lottery terminals.

But that wasn't enough money to feed the addiction that had taken hold of her. So Christine Cecylia Armstrong started to forge her husband's cheques. To supplement those ill-gotten funds, she sold off a diamond from her wedding ring for $1,000.

It wasn't until all of those avenues were exhausted that Armstrong began siphoning money from her employer, defence lawyer Vic Russell explained Monday.

An Alberta woman was convicted of stealing over $100,000 from her employer because of a gambling addiction. She was given a conditional sentence of eighteen months to be served in the community. The sentencing judge acknowledged that time in jail was required unless there were exceptional circumstances. He felt that although an addiction to gambling was not an exceptional circumstance, the addiction in addition to her stress and psychological turmoil justified a sentence served outside of prison. The Crown appealed the sentence.

Going to play bingo was something 49-year-old Judy did to meet people.

The divorced Chatham mom was lonely and wanted a night out. But in less than a year, the weekly outing became an almost daily excursion.

Although she wouldn't admit it at the time, it was becoming a problem.

"I was going every night and I would spend my whole days off from work there," she said.

At first, she was winning.

"It felt great, I would go back thinking I can win more and then I started losing."