Cocteau and Obladi,
I know exactly what you're talking about with the decision to never drink again that somehow magically disappears at the end of the day or the end of the week (for me it was the end of the day--almost every day, actually, for a long time). It gets so that you think you have no choice in the matter, doesn't it? It really can feel that way.
But for me, the fact was that when I made those decisions that went "poof" by the end of the day, I didn't really mean them. Some part of me knew that I wasn't really going to stick with it. I wasn't committed. I hadn't made a plan--heck, I still kept the liquor right there in front of me where I could get to it, or went out during the day to get more!
But then I DID make a decision one day -- the real one, the "I am going to quit drinking or die in the attempt" decision. I meant it. I was very naive at the time. I didn't know how profound it was that I'd done this. I thought there was more to it, that there was no way it could truly be that simple.
It was though. Simple, although painful for a while, and the reconstructive period that followed was a lot of work.
Funny thing, after all these years I am still not quite sure why I made the big decision that day. Yes, there was a nasty event the night before, but there had been many nasty events before that were in many ways much worse. I guess I had just had enough.