Have You Ever Felt Empty After Winning?

I remember one late night in my small London flat—rain tapping against the window, tea gone cold. I was scrolling through an online baccarat table, fingers hovering over the ‘Bet’ button like it held answers.

I won Rs. 12,000.

And yet… I didn’t feel joy.

Instead, a quiet ache settled in my chest—the kind that only comes when you realize: this wasn’t victory. It was just another moment of escape.

That’s when I knew: we’re not playing to win money. We’re playing to feel something.

The Illusion of Control

In my research on game psychology at UCL, I found something startling: players who report high emotional investment in games like baccarat often experience post-win depression. Not because they lost money—but because they gained nothing real.

The brain releases dopamine during wins—yes—but it also craves validation. When the screen lights up with ‘+₹12k’, the mind whispers: Now you matter.

But as soon as the glow fades… silence returns.

Why We Play (Even When We Know Better)

Let me be honest: I’m not anti-gaming. As someone who studied digital engagement patterns across cultures—from Nairobi to Oslo—I believe games can be healing spaces if used wisely.

But when they become rituals for loneliness? That’s where danger lies.

I’ve seen messages from readers saying:

“I play at midnight after work… just to feel alive.” “My phone battery dies before my heart stops racing.”

These aren’t stories about greed—they’re stories about emptiness.

We are not chasing fortune—we’re chasing presence.

A New Kind of Ritual: Playing With Purpose

So what changed for me? The shift wasn’t in strategy—it was in intention. Instead of asking “How much can I win?”, I started asking:

• “What do I need right now?”
• “Am I playing to connect—or to disconnect?”
• “Would this still feel meaningful if no one saw it?”

Now, when I sit down at a virtual table, i set a timer for 20 minutes—no more. i place my phone face-down afterward—not out of fear of losing money… but out of respect for myself. i end each session with three breaths—and one sentence: it’s okay to want comfort. But it’s better to choose peace over performance.

This isn’t about quitting gaming—it’s about reclaiming agency over our inner world. The real jackpot isn’t on the screen. It’s within us all along.