Four years.
One machine.
Everything lost.
I spent four years in Memphis and Las Vegas feeding slot machines money I didn't have. I took cash from my mother's purse. I stole from my foreman's petty cash box. I missed my grandfather's final months four states away — because I chose the casino instead of calling home.
The night it ended: 2am on Fremont Street, Las Vegas. $53 in my pocket. No plan. Nowhere left to go. I sat on a curb and made a decision that changed everything.
"The most dangerous part of gambling addiction is not the casino. It is the silence you build around it."