There wasn't an exact incident or breaking moment although I'm sure there could have been the way things were going.
After a rocky six months with different people around me, I have been back and forth about giving up. I can be a happy drunk or a mean drunk. But over the last six months, my violent outbursts against my spouse were frequent. Last year, at the bottom of my addiction, I lost all care for my hygiene. I cleaned up in summer and fall, but still continued the daily drinking. No one knew how much I was drinking so they blamed it on anxiety issues, maniac personality problems. Both good and bad that they thought that. Now that I've given up alcohol, I almost want to tell my family that it was the alcohol making me into that demon.
This fall, I had several blackouts, began throwing up in the morning and quickly downed a shot. New territory for me. My embarrassment at the round of liquor stores in my rotation, the concerned and patronizing looks of the clerks as they wondered why this young, professionally dressed person was buying a half pint of the cheap stuff, the lady in at Kum and Go who was onto me when I'd regularly buy wine at 8:15 in the morning and finally said 'BE WELL TODAY' with scorn in her eyes, the way I'd watch that bottle so quickly disappear and contrast that to the joy and reprieve from guilt I'd experienced when I had a new one to crack open, my self-loathing when my drinking reached a half pint a day which meant I was at the store every other day, the number of empty pints and pints, liters, four packs of wine that would tumble out of every crevice and be stowed away in every pocket of old coats, my children going into my purse to find my keys and seeing wine bottles in there, the bruises, waking up in the morning and thinking I'd done a good job by drinking less than usual only to find that a liter was more than half gone, the constant need to liquor up before going out on any occasion, to meet anyone, to be professional, on and on.
That list has been alarming me but the bigger reason I need to quit is for my sanity. I have been in more or less of a fog for two years, have hurt relationships, have disappointed people, have lied to feed my habit, have been exposed after leaving shot bottles on the car floor, because I'd quickly down one of them before coming into the house just to deal with people, have had to worry that every time someone goes into a room, a carelessly hidden bottle might fall out of a coat pocket. Weight would not budge off of my usually thin figure. I have hard liquor belly and puffy alcohol face. It's only day two and maybe it's in my head but it seems like my face is already different!
I need to stop for my health. There is nothing specific yet. There are some stomach pains but the thought that I may die someday soon as a result of my own making scares me. I some of us eventually die because of our habits whether it's bad eating, not exercising, but this just seemed like I was picking the fastest way to die. I hope this sticks and reading here will be my most important tool.
How: I'm am taking things one day at a time. I've quit before for five days and had no side effects so until I feel like something is really amiss, I'm just stopping. I drank heavily for two years and 2 a night for five. I'm not saying I won't go through withdrawal but I don't see the point in checking myself in somewhere or going to ER when I'm not craving or experiencing any physical effects. Tomorrow is day three. I hear that's the worst. I will have my benzos close. I'm hoping to do this all without heading to the hospital because that will just make me more anxious.