Exposition virtuelle – Miser Queer – Qollab

Le projet Miser Queer explore, à travers la photographie, les expériences des personnes LGBTQ+ en lien avec les jeux de hasard et d’argent. Dans le cadre de ce projet de photovoix, 13 personnes qui jouent régulièrement ont partagé leur parcours en réalisant des photographies et en participant à une entrevue.

Cette exposition donne à voir leurs histoires et leurs réflexions en lien avec les jeux de hasard et d’argent. En mettant leurs voix au premier plan, le projet vise à mieux comprendre les expériences des personnes LGBTQ+ avec les jeux de hasard et d’argent, afin de contribuer au développement d’interventions et de ressources mieux adaptées pour prévenir et réduire les méfaits associés au jeu.

A constant pursuit of external approval or affirmation, possibly as a way of coping with feelings of inadequacy or low self-esteem, which may lie at the heart of my gambling struggles.

his reflects a fractured or fragmented sense of self as the person struggles with addiction and the consequences of their actions. Yet, these fragments still make up who they are.

A collection of scattered pieces, perhaps fragmented by the harmful effects of gambling on one's sense of self. Yet within those fragments remains a glimpse of healing and the possibility of becoming whole again.

I wonder how a child would feel standing in front of this display. That's exactly how I feel whenever I walk into a casino.

What my life feels like when my funds reach zero.

If I could start my life over, I would buy a home—something I sacrificed because of gambling.

I often turn to pawn shops when I can no longer find anyone willing to lend me money so I can keep gambling.

To forget the money I've lost, I drink a few glasses of alcohol to push it out of my mind.

The end of the month can be so difficult that I struggle to afford enough food.

A major loss stings like a scorpion. I fell for a small but clever trap with deadly venom.

I am just an innocent Jack, but I am hooked on gambling games. I don't want to be reeled in by the casino like a fish on a hook.

The casino is like a black hole in space. It swallows my life whole. I feed it my money, yet it is never satisfied.

Even at the grocery store, lottery tickets are offered at checkout. "Would you like a scratch ticket with that?" Saying "no, thank you" every single time can be harder than it seems.

Whether heading out for a swim or visiting a First Nations casino, opportunities to feed an addiction seem to be everywhere. During a trip to Pointe-Calumet, casinos appeared to be around every corner.

I received a promotional offer from Loto-Québec to stay at a hotel connected to a casino for a fraction of the regular price. It arrived during a time when I desperately needed an escape.

I'm still floating on the high from the weekend. A luxury hotel, a five-star breakfast—everything felt delicious, everything seemed magical.

I don't win anymore. The only thing I bring home from gambling now is the small change from voucher payouts. The machines only seem to give back nickels, and I end up collecting piles of them.

I tried, as best I could, to recapture the excitement I felt in the beginning. From the Montréal Casino to Playground, nothing came close. To amplify the experience, I increased my cannabis use alongside gambling. Little by little, I dug myself deeper.

We are still ourselves, but somehow less defined, dimmed, or slowly being consumed from within.

One of the everyday moments that triggers my urge to gamble. Every purchase is surrounded by advertisements promoting lottery games or jackpot winners. It becomes tempting to add a lottery ticket to the transaction, awakening that inner "voice" that craves the thrill of gambling.

The bright side: joy, a smile from ear to ear, stars in my eyes. The excitement is intense, bringing an overwhelming rush. The dark side: eventually, the consequences catch up with me. The emptiness after gambling, the debt, and the financial losses become a heavy burden, leaving behind profound sadness.

The bright side: happiness, euphoria, and the feeling of being fully alive while gambling. The dark side: the emptiness that follows, the debt, the financial losses, and the darkness that settles in afterward.

The weight of my losses feels overwhelming. All that remains is exhaustion, discouragement, and the feeling that I have sacrificed everything.

I've done a tremendous amount of work on myself, and that journey continues today. My spirituality, especially Buddhism, has played an important role in my recovery. I've worked to overcome four addictions: alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, and gambling.

Counting every penny has become second nature because I've never experienced real financial security.

The dream that one day I might win enough money to change my life.

Finding a balance between gambling for enjoyment and the money I choose to spend on it.

Sometimes I find myself repeating the same routines, following the same paths over and over again. It leaves me feeling trapped in a cycle I can't seem to escape.

Sometimes gambling gives us signs that it's time to stop. Ignoring them is as risky as ignoring a stop sign on the road.