The gambling halls consumed me. As Alex, lost everything at the blackjack tables.
Each evening, the roulette wheel spun its hypnotic dance. The shuffling of cards was my addiction’s voice.
My wife, Sarah, beseeched me to quit playing slots, but I was too far gone.
On that fateful night at the underground gambling den, I put on the line it all: our future, our dwelling – all on a single hand.
The slot machine displayed “LOSE” and chance betrayed me.
Returning to our house with not a penny to my name, I found only a note: “Goodbye. Your love for the casino has become unbearable.”
Alone in an hollow apartment, I finally saw that hunting the big win stripped me of everything that mattered.
Medical professionals confirmed a depressive condition, intensified by my yearning for the casino floor.
Now, all the time is a battle not just with the memory of the poker table, but with the deep darkness in my mind. Is there any way I can rise above this abyss left by my addiction to betting?
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