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The gambling halls consumed me. Alex here, squandered it all at the slot machines.
Day after day, the roulette wheel spun its hypnotic dance. The clinking of chips was a temptation I couldn't resist.
My wife, Maria, begged me to quit playing slots, but the casino's call was louder.
On that tragic night at the underground gambling den, I bet everything: our security, our dwelling - in a high-stakes poker game.
My poker hand was beaten and the house always wins.
Returning to our house with not a penny to my name, I found only a note: "I'm leaving. Your love for the casino has left us with nothing."
Deserted in an desolate home, I understood that seeking the big win lost me my true treasures.
Therapists identified a depressive condition, exacerbated by gambling addiction.
Now, every day is a challenge not just with my compulsion to place bets, but with the crushing sadness within. Can I possibly escape this abyss left by my addiction to betting?
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