The casino became my obsession. Alex here, squandered it all at the poker tables.
Constantly, the poker tables whispered promises. The cheers at the craps table was an irresistible lure.
My wife, Emily, beseeched me to stay away from the casino, but I was deaf to her pleas.
On that tragic night at the underground gambling den, I bet all we had: our life's work, our house - in a desperate attempt to win big.
The roulette ball landed on the wrong number and chance betrayed me.
Returning to our house with nothing left, I found only a note: "Farewell. Your gambling addiction has ruined our lives."
Sitting in an hollow space, I finally saw that grasping at the jackpot deprived me of all that was real.
I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, intensified by my yearning for the casino floor.
Now, constantly is a war not just with my urge to return to the casino, but with the crushing sadness within. Is there any way I can overcome this void shaped by the relentless pursuit of the next win?
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