During the peak of his gambling addiction, Mark Henson was convinced that his next substantial win was imminent.

The Sydney resident was initially drawn into the world of betting after securing a few thousand dollars in winnings in his early 20s.

However, it wasn’t long before debts began to accumulate, and he found himself tallying up more losses than wins.

His financial troubles became so severe that he was unable to keep up with mortgage payments on a property he co-owned with his best friend.

This financial strain also took a toll on his personal life, ultimately leading to the breakdown of his relationship with his girlfriend.

He moved in with his mother and stepfather, feeling lost and at a loose end.

“I gave them three-quarters of the truth with all of the trouble I was in, the debts and so on, no job at the time,” Henson said.

“I was basically staying with them because I had nowhere else to stay, they put me up.”

Henson says compulsive gamblers have a damaging mindset.

“They go through their savings, then they start borrowing, then they’re doing overdrafts, then they’re borrowing off people they can’t repay, then they start selling things,” he said.

“There’s this process, the moral compass will just keep dropping and dropping.”

One day, when his mum and stepfather went away, he came up with a plan.

“I thought I’d take X, Y and Z out of the place, I’d go hock it, I’d go have a bet, win the money back, go get the stuff out of hock and put it back in its place,” he said.

“They won’t know any different, it was like a loan.”

But his mum and stepfather had an inkling something wasn’t right.

“When they came back, they could see the stereo and some of my mum’s jewellery wasn’t there,” he said.

“They rang me up, I got a taxi into this place, so I came back home.

“That was my first rock bottom and there was an intervention.”

Henson checked into rehab at William Booth House in Sydney, an experience which he described as “the best thing that has ever happened to me to this day.”

As a part of the program, he was introduced to Gamblers Anonymous, where he found a sense of community.

“You felt supported and you were safe,” he said.

‘The monsters in me came back out’

After an 11-month stint in rehab, Henson remained gamble-free for five years.

He had a job at the airport, a new girlfriend and his family was back in the picture.

But one year he was asked if he would like to join a $10 tipping competition at work.

“For years I’d say no, this one year I said yes,” he said.

During the first week he lost his bet but soon felt the urge to chase the money.

“The monsters in me came back out to play again,” he said.

“I thought I’d have a $50 bet, I’ve already had a little bet.”

He lost $200 one weekend, $700 the next and $1200 the following weekend.

Almost two months later, he was in a position of trust at the airport when he was asked to load a plane with foreign money.

“It was a one in a million time that this would happen,” he said.

“An armoured car came up and started sending up bags of this foreign money.

“I stole a wad of money, that was about 350 notes.”

Henson took the cash to a currency exchange outside of his local area to avoid detection.

“I got someone to go in there for me, like a hobo, I said ‘take them in’, because of the cameras,” he said.

Henson recalled he went inside and cashed in one of the notes himself.

“One of the notes was $140 Australian, I did my maths and I had like $50,000 in notes,” he said.

“I’m going ‘this is not good, this is not good’.”

As Henson started to realise how much money he had taken, police were on his tail.

Days later, the Australian Federal Police swooped in and raided his house to search for the currency.

Henson’s shame grew when he realised he knew one of the police officers.

“I played football with him and grew up with him,” he said.

“He was apologetic, he said ‘mate, we’ve got to do this’, so it was quite embarrassing.”

Henson turned himself in, was charged, left his job, returned to rehab for six months and avoided jail.

‘It’s possible to get help’

These days, Henson looks back on that dark time as a turning point in his life.

He went back to rehab, surrendered to the process and found a new career path.

“I stayed for two-and-a-half years working, it started off where I’m at today,” he said.

He has since paid off his debts and has not gambled since September 2003.

Henson has now worked at Oakdene House in Sydney’s west for 13 years, providing clinical supervision, gambling counselling, education and outreach services.

“It’s a safe place where people can come and feel supported,” he said.

“You witness so many people rebuild their lives.”

Henson hopes by sharing his story he can encourage others to seek help.

He wants people to know gambling addiction doesn’t discriminate and can affect people from all walks of life.

But he finds the common thread between people with a gambling addiction is they often find themselves in “a very lonely place”.

“There’s nothing social about it and it’s their own little secret,” he said.

“That’s the thing with gambling addiction, you can’t smell the cards on their breath.”

His advice to family and friends of a compulsive gambler is to “stop bailing them out”.

“There needs to be consequences,” he said.

“It needs to be tough love, it needs to be factual, you can’t put sprinkles and fairy floss on top, because it just doesn’t work like that.”

Henson believes there’s strength in numbers when it comes to recovery.

“With numbers you’re strong but if you start doing it on your own, that’s where you’re going to be vulnerable,” he said.

“The first thing is to go and talk to someone.

“Don’t be ashamed to put your hand up if you’re struggling, it’s possible to get help.”