Gambling, grief and getting hit by a car...

From an innate addictive personality, a gambling addiction landing him in thousands of pounds of debt, Wallace Currie has one hell of a story to share.

When it comes to combatting adversity and emerging victorious, there are few stories quite like Wallace Currie’s. From an innate addictive personality, a gambling addiction landing him thousands of pounds in debt, damning social media accusations and being hit by a car, charismatic Scotsman, podcast host and lecturer, Wallace has a one hell of a story to share.

Wallace is, as I am sure anyone who knows him can attest, such a wholesome individual and I was honoured he chose to share some personal admissions with me, which I am now sharing with you, in the hopes it may connect with just one of you, and help you to see there is light at the end of what may appear to be a pretty dark tunnel.

Podcasting has opened many doors for Wallace, including his cherished career in lecturing, but the path ahead hasn’t always looked so promising…

Brought up on the remote Isle of Arran - the most southerly isle off the coast of Scotland, at Bridge Farm, a circa 2,000 acre primary sheep operation “and volcano,” Wallace proudly tells me, it’s almost hard to imagine that farming was not on the initial agenda for him.

The farm is both a “SPA and SSSI, it is home to a protected hen harrier colony and I don’t know if I mentioned but it’s a volcano!” Wallace shares with a smile, “it’s primarily sheep with 630 breedings yows, including Scottish blackies, Cheviots and Swaledales on the hill. They breed there own Texels and whilst they may hate me saying, they do very well on the store market.”

He quickly points out, “I say they (his parents Laura and Colin) because I have absolutely nothing to do with it and can take no credit,” with a laugh before continuing, “I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to be involved at all. WWE and football was where my attention was focused, but if I turned up to a football game looking like I did, they’d have thought I was the ball!”

Though eventually, after exploring a variety of course options, Wallace wound up back at the idea of farming, he asked his mum, what about farming? “You hate it, she said, and I was like, ‘aye, I do, but what about it?’ When I went off to agricultural college, I think people in Arran questioned my sanity, or whether I actually knew what agriculture meant.”

Here though is where Wallace fell into a gambling addiction that would see him lose tens of thousands of pounds and fall thousands into debt.

If you’re a student, or you’ve been in the past, or even if you have children at University, you’ll be familiar with the financial ‘support’ offered. For arguments sake, you might receive £1,000 at the beginning of the year, and then £500 each term or so, though as Wallace points out, rent for that term is likely to be close to £400 out of that.

“You literally cannot afford to live. I was not clever enough to work and study, I absolutely wouldn’t be in the place I am now if I had done so. Now, don’t get me wrong my parents would never have seen me go without shelter or food, but I wanted to be able to manage myself, and that’s why and where it started, just with a fiver at first.”

In total, he spent £280,000 in bets, on credit cards, credit cards paying credit cards, but is proud to say he is in none of that debt now.

“There would never be a day that I didn’t have a grand on. I had a bank of 100, most people’s bank of 100 would be 10p per point, mine was £100,” Wallace admits, “I was making money, gambling paid for a trip to Iceland for me and my ex-girlfriend, who at the time thought I was pretty good at saving.”

Gambling, along with alcohol and drugs has to be recognised as an illness and a complex one at that. Addiction surpasses choice in these cases. Though Wallace is keen to highlight that, “many people think these addictions are the fault of the person, but it couldn’t be further from reality. You fall down a rabbit hole of promised prizes, addiction and loss, that often is born out of a place of desperation.”

He explains how embarrassed and ashamed he was about it, and is passionate about raising awareness of this within students, as he believes given how well he hid it, there will be others doing the same, out of a need to afford to live and stay in University.

This went on for months, it wasn’t until his Undergraduate graduation, where he shares with me how, “I lost £7,000 on an Australian football game when, at the 99th minute, the ball hit the post. I watched this on my phone in my hands about to walk up, on crutches to collect my degree. It was the biggest single bet I’d lost. I was looking at winning £50-60K.”

Admittedly a very tempting opportunity, “I remember looking at the phone at the time and thinking ‘oh well’, but later that night whilst I was out having a drink with friends, it hit me. I remember thinking to myself, ’jeeez, why didn’t that bother me, I don’t have money, and I now have less…significantly less.’ That was the day I stopped betting.”

“I realised, I could be making a million a year, but I’d be betting more. So, I got rid of everything except to this day, I keep the betting app on my phone as a reminder.”

Losing his Papa (his mother’s father) to Alhzeimers contributed to Wallace’s internal battle, “he was the guy”, he recounts how they’d go fishing together often and shares how his “last memories of him were pretty gnarly. Seeing him disappear, but a shell remaining. You hear people ask, is it that bad? Oh it is! I think he was aware for a while, but I think he grew so tired of chasing the question of ‘is this someone I should know?’.”

“I don’t think I was aware of the toll it took on me at the time, but I owe a big thanks to my now boss and my boss’ boss for helping me through second year. Studying became an addiction.” He references his addictive personality, though I joke that studying is a unique addiction!

Fitness, and walking in particular are things which Wallace would attribute to helping him navigate his own mental minefield. He’d been training for a charity walk in aid of R.S.A.B.I (Royal Scottish Agricultural Benevolent Institution) and Scottish Association of Young Farmers Clubs, until he had a bit of a bump in the road in that he WAS the bump in the road.

Wallace was 21km in to a 180km charity walk (twice around his home island of Arran) when he was hit and knocked 2m off the road by a car. In an incredible demonstration of mental fortitude, he walked a further 26km, by this point, “I was throwing my leg not walking.”

When eventually he stopped, another 4km down the road, joined by his Dad, as the pain had really become too much, he explains how, “the second I stopped it hit me. I’d been telling myself the pain doesn’t exist, this leg isn’t real in order to keep going, but the pain took over my mental resilience and it’s little wonder why as my calf muscle had ripped up the middle from being hit.”

Wallace’s, is a genuinely inspiring story of overcoming adversity, it’s no easy feat to work your way out of debt, of any amount, but it can be done. Mental fortitude served Wallace well in his fundraising attempt and walking has been a form of therapy for him and continues to be so.

There are many ways in which we can support ourselves, but it begins with the recognition that something has to change, walking was a way for Wallace not only to clear his mind and process personal battles, but also to lose weight once he’d recognised he had reached a point he needed to come back from.

In his own words, Wallace describes the RSABI as a ‘Samaritans for farmers’ and he’s so right, whether it is the R.S.A.B.I or the R.A.B.I who we are fundraising for through The Journey, they are there to support farmers, but, we have to first recognise we need it.

So, if you can relate to anything within this article, and would like to explore the support available to you, or someone you know who might benefit from it, visit their websites here: R.A.B.I and R.S.A.B.I.

Now, proudly Wallace can say, “I leave work on a Friday, excited to go back on Monday and love what I do Saturday and Sunday.” Lecturing is not only a career for Wallace but a calling, educating and supporting his students his something that fills him with pride, I can hear it in his voice as he shares with me his pathway into lecturing.

“My old lecturer reached out to me during furlough, and asked if I’d ever considered lecturing, ‘no,’ I said, ‘I’m an idiot!’ He laughs as the Scottish humour is ever present.