The casino became my obsession. I, Alex, squandered it all at the slot machines.
Each evening, the roulette wheel spun its hypnotic dance. The call of “place your bets” was my addiction’s voice.
My wife, Lisa, implored me to stay away from the casino, but I couldn’t resist the pull.
On that disastrous night at the underground gambling den, I gambled it all: our entire nest egg, our dwelling – in a high-stakes poker game.
The roulette ball landed on the wrong number and I lost it all in an instant.
Returning to what was once our home with all lost, I found only a note: “Goodbye. Your obsession with poker has become unbearable.”
Abandoned in an desolate space, I grasped that hunting a lucky streak stripped me of what was truly valuable.
Doctors diagnosed major depressive disorder, deepened by my losses at the tables.
Now, daily is a struggle not just with my compulsion to place bets, but with the overwhelming gloom that haunts me. Will I ever climb out of this chasm created by the glittering world of casinos?
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