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The neon lights of the casino ruined me. I, Alex, threw my life away at the blackjack tables.
Each evening, the slot machines sang their siren song. The clinking of chips was the soundtrack of my downfall.
My wife, Anna, implored me to stop gambling, but the lure of the jackpot was too strong.
On that ruinous night at the VIP room, I wagered every last penny: our entire nest egg, our property - all on a single hand.
The roulette ball landed on the wrong number and chance betrayed me.
Returning to our house with not a penny to my name, I found only a note: "I'm leaving. Your roulette wheel madness has left us with nothing."
Left behind in an desolate space, I realized that grasping at a royal flush cost me everything that mattered.
Health experts recognized clinical depression, compounded by my withdrawal from betting.
Now, constantly is a struggle not just with the memory of the poker table, but with the deep darkness that haunts me. Is there any way I can escape this void left by my addiction to betting?
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