Having to drink shots in my first cuppa caffeine to stop the shaking of my hands and hope it stays down long enough to calm my stomach not come back up. Did that, unable to quit for the last two years of drinking more than 30 units of alcohol a day. I hated it. Found a way out and took it before I killed myself. Not the devil, not ascribing cunningness to a chemical with no neurons, or any second or third party. It was me the whole time. Knew I was an alcoholic several years before. But having the physical shakes and nausea every morning made it clear I could choose alcohol and accelerating suicide by my own hand, or choose life and somehow break free of my self imprisonment by my own self indulgence. Never going back.