The gambling halls consumed me. I'm a man named Alex who lost everything at the poker tables.
Constantly, the slot machines sang their siren song. The shuffling of cards was an irresistible lure.
My wife, Sarah, implored me to quit playing slots, but I was deaf to her pleas.
On that ruinous night at the exclusive casino, I risked all we had: our security, our home - on one spin of the wheel.
The dice rolled snake eyes and luck turned its back on me.
Returning to what was once our home with all lost, I found only a note: "I can't do this anymore. Your slot machine fixation has torn us apart."
Deserted in an bare space, I realized that seeking a royal flush stripped me of what was truly valuable.
Medical professionals confirmed major depressive disorder, exacerbated by gambling addiction.
Now, daily is a challenge not just with the memory of the poker table, but with the all-consuming melancholy within. Is there any way I can free myself from this chasm carved by endless nights at the tables?
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