Me too, Isaiah. Big time. It's like I wanted to throw a goodbye party for the booze, like my best friend was moving away. But those never ended up being my last drink. My real last drink came and went unrecognized until the next day. I didn't even have a hangover—I was just sick of all the excuses, sick of the endless groundhog-day nature of my life, sick of waiting all day for that next drink, sick of myself.
My recommendation would be to skip the blowout; no one's on this site because alcohol has been a friend to them. Forget the fanfare and just kick it to the curb. I thought life would be boring without a drink; it was amazing to me how quickly I started to feel better about the world, other people, and especially myself. Why wait another day?