The neon lights of the casino ruined me. My name is Alex, and I ruined myself at the blackjack tables.
Each evening, the roulette wheel spun its hypnotic dance. The whir of slot machines was a temptation I couldn’t resist.
My wife, Lisa, begged me to abandon the roulette wheel, but I couldn’t resist the pull.
On that calamitous night at the VIP room, I bet our whole life: our savings, our residence – on a “sure thing” bet.
The slot machine displayed “LOSE” and fortune abandoned me.
Returning to our place with all lost, I found only a note: “Farewell. Your slot machine fixation has become unbearable.”
Alone in an empty apartment, I finally saw that pursuing a royal flush stripped me of all that was real.
I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, compounded by my withdrawal from betting.
Now, constantly is a war not just with the memory of the poker table, but with the overwhelming gloom within. Is it possible for me to climb out of this chasm shaped by the relentless pursuit of the next win?
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