My dad liked a bet, but in those days he’d have a football or a horse bet, and that would be it. The betting shop shut at five, after the last race had finished. It’s not like now, when it’s 24/7.

My first bet was my first wages when I was 16 as an apprentice at Arsenal. I went into the betting shop with my first wage packet, £100. It was like being in a spaceship. I gambled the lot on the horses – this was a Friday afternoon so there was no football, not like now.

I struggled with insecurity when I was young, a very shy kid, and the betting shop just completely took me away from how I felt. I didn’t even think beforehand I was going to do it, there was no planning. I thought I was going to go shopping when I got my first wage. My mate said we’d go across the road to William Hill and that was it. I can’t remember after that not wanting to gamble, if I’m being honest.

It’s the most horrible addiction in the world. I’m a recovering alcoholic and a recovering drug addict, but for me, gambling addiction is the worst. It doesn’t tell you that you’re not going to win. It’s weird. If you said to me now, let’s go out and have a drink, I’ll say I can’t. I haven’t had a drink for several years. But if I go out and have one now, I won’t go home for two days. I know I can’t stop when I start, but gambling doesn’t tell you that you’re going to lose all your money. You just know you are.

As a professional footballer, you’re getting paid to do the best job in the world in hindsight. Virtually every kid at school wants to be a professional footballer. I never got the concept of getting up in the morning, playing something I absolutely love doing, and getting a big wage packet at the end. So the more money I earned, the more I gambled.

In 1991, when we won the league for the second time in three years [Arsenal lost just one game all season], I’m 23, just won my second title in three years, and when I get home – I’d just bought a four-bedroom house – I didn’t have any carpet. I was living on a stone floor, because I chose to gamble instead of buying carpet. That’s how bad it gets.

Betting shops were different back then. You’d go in and they’d be packed. It’s not like now. It’s like when you went into a pub, the pub’s busy and betting shops were exactly the same.

I didn’t get the concept of money. You win and lose, lose and win, although you never win because it gets to a stage after a while you’re not even in it to win, you’re in it to do it. It’s to take you out of the way you feel. A lot was going on off the pitch for me. The more I drank, the more I gambled, and the more I gambled and lost, the more I drank. Then the drinking weren’t enough and the drugs come in… it’s just a massive cycle.

No one was interested in talking to me about the gambling. When I got done for the drugs in 1994, [Merson gave a tearful press conference in November that year with then Arsenal manager George Graham, where he admitted an alcohol and cocaine addiction, which led to the FA arranging for him to undergo a three-month rehabilitation programme]. I’d lost everything through gambling, but no one was interested in that, because that’s not going to harm your performance on the pitch, is it? But it does, much more. Gambling was mentally draining, much more than the drink and drugs.

I used to hate evening games. I couldn’t sleep in the afternoon, so I used to sit up all through the day gambling. If we went to an away game, we’d go to a hotel. We’d have something to eat at 12:30, go to our rooms for a 3-4 hour kip and I’d just sit in the room gambling. By the time the game kicked off in the evening I’d be knackered.

I went a couple of years without gambling, probably because I discovered Championship Manager! Seriously. I used to play that for 12 hours a day. If you’re busy, you’re ok. I had a mate of mine stay with me when I was playing for Aston Villa and I didn’t gamble during that time. We just played Championship Manager for a couple of years. I’d come back from training and put the game on, just played it, played it, played it.

I never ‘worked’ for my money, I played football. You drive past the train station at 6:30pm and it’s packed, that’s work. I was finished at one in the afternoon. People ask ‘was the gambling down to boredom?’ Not really. David Beckham didn’t do it. It’s an illness. One million per cent it’s an illness. I don’t care what anybody says.

People say: Stay strong, show a bit of willpower. The next time you get diarrhoea, try stopping that with willpower, see where it ends up. You can’t.

When you saw other players in the tabloids about their gambling and how much they’d lost, you’d think, without being horrible, blimey, he’s got balls. Not now. You read about the Ivan Toney situation [the Brentford striker has accepted multiple charges of breaching the Football Association’s betting rules], if he’s got an illness then you think, he needs help. But you didn’t think like that in the 1990s.

Gambling addiction is evil, it’s cunning, baffling. You can go two, three years without a bet, but it gets you. You have another bet and you’re back to normal. You think to yourself, I’ll do it properly this time, I’ll pick and choose, but you are back at the beginning, like you’ve never stopped.

I’ve gone back to drinking before and I’ve gone home at 7pm. And as time went on, that 7pm turned to 7am the next day, and so on. But with gambling it’s… bang.

This is how sick it gets: when all the money is gone, you’re relieved. You think, thank fuck it’s all gone. I don’t have to do this, because it takes you over so badly. It’s 24/7. You’re constantly looking on your phone, one bet finishes and you’re on the next bet. You go to bed, you can’t sleep, so you stay up to carry on betting. And when it all goes you literally do think, it’s all gone. Or you wake up and think, oh God, what have I done? But you never get that feeling when you’re winning loads of money of stopping, because you’ve won. But when you’ve lost it all, you have that release that you don’t have to do it anymore.

Years ago, I won £20,000 and I went round my mum’s house. She walked in, saw me next to the stack of money, and asked me why I was looking miserable. Why? Because there was nothing left to gamble on that day.

Smartphones have changed everything. But if I type William Hill into my phone now, it’s blocked. I put the block on two years ago. It’s called Gamban. I pay £23 a year for that and cannot get one gambling company on my phone. It’s the best invention ever in the history of inventions. Gambling on the phone is just so easy.

I wanted to know why one company I lost £180,000 with over not a long period allowed me to gamble so much, they just said: Well, we rung you up to see if you’re alright. They did ring and ask me that, but I’m a compulsive gambler. What am I going to say?

I know now I’m an ill person who needs to get well. I’d lived my whole life thinking I was a bad person always searching to become good. That was the reason I made the BBC documentary [Paul Merson: Football, Gambling and Me aired in October 2021]. There’s no worse feeling in the world living with something not knowing you have an illness. And the way people opened up to me on that show was mind-blowing. How gambling takes you over, the role of your brain. I always thought if I could help one person – and it’s not just that one person, it’s their family, the destruction gambling addiction does to them – it would be worth it.

The last time I lost all my money was in lockdown, when we’d saved for a house. Covid killed me. We’d saved for that house – my aim to get security for my wife and three kids. And it’s not like I’m still a professional footballer and can save in two months. I had to work my nuts off to save. Then Covid came, I was listening to Boris Johnson, watching the news, and I just didn’t see us getting out. My anxiety levels went through the roof. I thought, I’m never going to work again at Sky Sports.

Even when you’re well, you leave a hand grenade behind you. My wife is still on tenterhooks, I’m not going to lie. But she knows I’m in a safe environment now where I can’t lose the plot quickly anymore. My wife gives me spending money now; I get treated like a 14-year-old. A few years ago I would have had a problem with that, but with what happened after lockdown I have no problem with it today. That’s the way it’s got to be, because it only takes a second.

I’ve wanted to kill myself three times through gambling, but I know the documentary has helped other people because they’ve come up to me to say so.

Now I’m helping more people through Recoverlution [the world’s first recovery platform]. I was approached by the founder Daniel [Fincham] with their idea and I liked it. I know my brain can flip at any minute, I can get a craving. Or I might have an argument at home.

I’ve been working with the Daily Star for 16 years writing a weekly column. They rung me up yesterday and gave me four weeks’ notice. They’ve got costs, and this and that. You know what? I understood. Before, I’d have thought I don’t like this feeling and maybe relapsed.

With Recoverlution, it’s 24/7. You can be laying at bed at night – I struggle some nights with anxiety – but I can’t ring a mate at 2am or wake my wife up. But I can go on the computer or my phone and find someone on the platform anywhere in the world and connect with someone in my position who understands me. That’s why I believe in it. Gambling addiction doesn’t have a time zone. You think you are alone, but you’re not. There’s a lot of people out there, but it’s about getting the message to people living in pain – and they are in pain. More than 400 people a year are killing themselves because of gambling. It’s just not right.

I don’t want to ban gambling. People can gamble normally, people can drink normally. I just think we have to be careful. Gambling addiction is a major illness which people are killing themselves over. To do that, we need to stand up and be accountable.

It’s been over a year since my last bet. A day at a time for me. That’s how it has to be. I’m 55 this month. My head can drift – I might only have 20 years left. So I have to bring it back in and think, I’ve got today.

Paul is an ambassador of Recoverlution, an addiction recovery platform connecting and supporting the millions of people recovering from addiction around the world. Find out more about the support Recoverlution offers at https://www.recoverlution.com/ or download the app via the App Store or on the Google Play Store soon.