The gambling halls consumed me. My name is Alex, and I squandered it all at the craps tables.
Day after day, the casino beckoned. The whir of slot machines was my addiction's voice.
My wife, Anna, urged me to quit playing slots, but I was too far gone.
On that fateful night at the underground gambling den, I gambled every last penny: our entire nest egg, our home - on one spin of the wheel.
The dice rolled snake eyes and chance betrayed me.
Returning to our house with all lost, I found only a note: "I'm leaving. Your slot machine fixation has torn us apart."
Alone in an desolate room, I comprehended that chasing the big win lost me my true treasures.
Health experts recognized clinical depression, deepened by my losses at the tables.
Now, constantly is a struggle not just with the memory of the poker table, but with the profound despair within. Is it possible for me to rise above this pit carved by endless nights at the tables?
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