The casino became my obsession. My name is Alex, and I ruined myself at the craps tables.
Constantly, the poker tables whispered promises. The whir of slot machines was the soundtrack of my downfall.
My wife, Maria, pleaded with me to quit playing slots, but the casino's call was louder.
On that fateful night at the underground gambling den, I put on the line every last penny: our entire nest egg, our house - in a desperate attempt to win big.
My poker hand was beaten and luck turned its back on me.
Returning to our place with nothing left, I found only a note: "It's over. Your obsession with poker has torn us apart."
Sitting in an desolate room, I realized that seeking the perfect bet lost me everything that mattered.
Medical professionals confirmed major depressive disorder, compounded by my withdrawal from betting.
Now, constantly is a fight not just with my compulsion to place bets, but with the crushing sadness within. Do I have the strength to overcome this black hole carved by endless nights at the tables?
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