The neon lights of the casino ruined me. Alex here, threw my life away at the blackjack tables.
Each evening, the gambling halls called. The cheers at the craps table was my addiction's voice.
My wife, Maria, beseeched me to leave the poker tables, but the lure of the jackpot was too strong.
On that fateful night at the VIP room, I put on the line it all: our entire nest egg, our house - on one spin of the wheel.
The cards fell wrong and the house always wins.
Returning to our place with not a penny to my name, I found only a note: "It's over. Your gambling addiction has torn us apart."
Deserted in an vacant home, I understood that pursuing the big win cost me love and family.
I was diagnosed with clinical depression, intensified by my yearning for the casino floor.
Now, daily is a fight not just with my urge to return to the casino, but with the crushing sadness in my mind. Is it possible for me to escape this pit left by my addiction to betting?
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