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The gambling halls consumed me. As Alex, gambled away my future at the roulette wheel.
Each evening, the casino beckoned. The call of "place your bets" was my addiction's voice.
My wife, Lisa, pleaded with me to stop gambling, but the lure of the jackpot was too strong.
On that disastrous night at the high-stakes tables, I gambled all we had: our entire nest egg, our home - on one spin of the wheel.
The slot machine displayed "LOSE" and luck turned its back on me.
Returning to our house with nothing left, I found only a note: "It's over. Your love for the casino has ruined our lives."
Deserted in an hollow house, I understood that seeking a lucky streak cost me everything that mattered.
I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, compounded by my withdrawal from betting.
Now, each day is a struggle not just with the phantom sounds of slot machines, but with the all-consuming melancholy that haunts me. Will I ever overcome this abyss left by my addiction to betting?
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