The gambling halls consumed me. Alex here, ruined myself at the roulette wheel.
Each evening, the gambling halls called. The shuffling of cards was my addiction’s voice.
My wife, Maria, beseeched me to quit playing slots, but the lure of the jackpot was too strong.
On that fateful night at the underground gambling den, I put on the line our whole life: our security, our dwelling – in a desperate attempt to win big.
My poker hand was beaten and fortune abandoned me.
Returning to our place with empty pockets, I found only a note: “I can’t do this anymore. Your roulette wheel madness has become unbearable.”
Left behind in an bare apartment, I understood that pursuing the jackpot lost me what was truly valuable.
Health experts recognized clinical depression, deepened by my losses at the tables.
Now, daily is a struggle not just with the phantom sounds of slot machines, but with the overwhelming gloom inside me. Is there any way I can escape this abyss left by my addiction to betting?
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