They tremble. They sweat. Their stomachs ache and their heads throb.

They have difficulty sleeping. They vomit and would do anything for a fix.

They are suffering a case of withdrawal pain.

Yet they are slaves to neither drink nor drugs.

Their addiction is gambling.

And if they strike you as extreme cases, or if your image of the inveterate gambler is the occasional born loser who gets juiced and blows a few thousand bucks at the horse track or at the roulette wheel, consider this:

- The number of hard-core compulsive gamblers in America is conservatively put at more than 1 million. Some studies say it is three times that high.

- They cost society literally billions of dollars in theft and fraud to finance their habits. In one case alone, a stockbroker misappropriated $36 million — including embezzling $13 million from a bank — to cover his gambling debts. Even some hall-of-fame caliber ball players have succumbed to the strangle-hold of gambling, betting money on ballgames or wagering at the dog track.

Experts today warn that compulsive gambling has reached alarming proportions.

Some say it is due to the spread of legalized casino gambling in resorts like Atlantic City and Las Vegas.

Others blame the proliferation of state lotteries, which offer “instant” results to players who used to have to wait days to see if they hit the jackpot in the local numbers game.

Whatever the reasons, few disagree that the problem of pathological gambling is growing worse.

Only recently has it become accepted as a severe mental disorder, a progressive habit that destroys families, costs jobs, and leads to bankruptcy, crime and frequently to prison.

In fact, courts increasingly are being presented with compulsive gambling as a legal defense for crimes like embezzlement and fraud.

In some cases, judges have suspended prison terms on condition that the accused seek professional help and make restitution.

Gamblers Anonymous, a group that relies on peer counseling to help those who want to stop gambling, has grown to nearly 1,000 chapters throughout the nation since it began half a century ago.

Who are the compulsive gamblers?

They’re bankers, lawyers, doctors, CPAs, stockbrokers, educators — in short, they are anybody and everybody.

But what many people don’t seem to realize is that most compulsive gamblers suffer from another kind of addiction — would you believe STRESS.

That’s right.

They like the feeling of the heart beating faster and the brain waves moving faster.

As one local gambler told me recently, “There’s nothing more exciting than knowing … everything is on the line.”

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Researchers discovered that many compulsive gamblers have dual addictions, frequently gambling and alcoholism. Their IQs are high — the average is about 120 — and most are smokers.

The vast majority of them are men and the greater part of them thrive on sports — both as participants and observers.

The road to becoming a compulsive gambler is well charted.

For the most part, according to psychologists, it’s a progressive thing that grows for years before it really gets out of control.

And it’s typically triggered by what is known in clinical circles as the Big Win.

A big win would be defined as maybe half your annual income.

It kind of suggests that this might be an easy way to make a living and so the occasional winner keeps going.

The games get more exciting, the stakes get larger.

But eventually, all gamblers lose sooner or later.

Then the chase begins.

Gamblers need more money to recoup their losses and they get to the point where playing is the only game in life.

Then they dip into their savings accounts, sell off their insurance policies, sell of their jewelry, then the wife’s jewelry, take three mortgages on the house, hock their cars … The whole game is to get back to the action.

And like most alcoholics, compulsive gamblers rarely seek help until they have lost everything.

One of my favorite gambling stories of all time is a little tale called “The Night that Tim Kelly Won Big.”

After winning a lot of money in a poker game, Tim is on his way home when he passes through a cemetery. Some ghosts are playing poker and Tim deals himself in.

Of course, he loses everything he had previously won, including his clothes. After all, who could play with spirits?

When Tim gets home, he tells his wife, “Hey, honey, guess what? Tonight I won big.”

The wife looked up from her sewing and observed Tim standing naked in the doorway.

“Sure you did,” she said. “Sure you did.”

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Top o’ the morning!

— Blankenship is a Register-Herald writer. E-mail: jabbb@suddenlink.net