The casino became my obsession. I, Alex, ruined myself at the slot machines.
Every night, the roulette wheel spun its hypnotic dance. The call of "place your bets" was my siren's call.
My wife, Lisa, begged me to stay away from the casino, but the lure of the jackpot was too strong.
On that fateful night at the exclusive casino, I gambled it all: our security, our residence - on a "sure thing" bet.
The roulette ball landed on the wrong number and chance betrayed me.
Returning to our place with all lost, I found only a note: "Farewell. Your love for the casino has become unbearable."
Left behind in an desolate home, I understood that grasping at a royal flush deprived me of everything that mattered.
Therapists identified a depressive condition, deepened by my losses at the tables.
Now, every day is a challenge not just with the memory of the poker table, but with the all-consuming melancholy within. Do I have the strength to climb out of this pit left by my addiction to betting?
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