The casino was my downfall. I, Alex, squandered it all at the blackjack tables.
Constantly, the casino beckoned. The whir of slot machines was a temptation I couldn't resist.
My wife, Lisa, implored me to stay away from the casino, but I couldn't resist the pull.
On that calamitous night at the high-stakes tables, I wagered it all: our savings, our residence - on one spin of the wheel.
My poker hand was beaten and I lost it all in an instant.
Returning home with all lost, I found only a note: "I'm leaving. Your obsession with poker has left us with nothing."
Deserted in an bare apartment, I comprehended that chasing the big win cost me love and family.
Therapists identified clinical depression, intensified by my yearning for the casino floor.
Now, every day is a war not just with the phantom sounds of slot machines, but with the all-consuming melancholy within. Is it possible for me to climb out of this abyss dug by years of gambling?
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