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The casino became my obsession. Alex here, threw my life away at the slot machines.
Constantly, the slot machines sang their siren song. The call of "place your bets" was my addiction's voice.
My wife, Emily, urged me to quit playing slots, but I was too far gone.
On that disastrous night at the exclusive casino, I risked it all: our security, our house - in a desperate attempt to win big.
The cards fell wrong and luck turned its back on me.
Returning to our apartment with nothing left, I found only a note: "Farewell. Your obsession with poker has destroyed us."
Sitting in an hollow apartment, I grasped that grasping at the perfect bet robbed me of love and family.
Medical professionals confirmed major depressive disorder, intensified by my yearning for the casino floor.
Now, constantly is a war not just with the lure of the roulette wheel, but with the all-consuming melancholy inside me. Is it possible for me to overcome this black hole left by my addiction to betting?
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