Originally Posted by alphaomega

I would get so frustrated and lament and complain to DH how "Gosh, I didn't even DRINK THAT MUCH last night and I feel like hell on wheels." Every drink I took, with every slip, made my life a living hell on earth.

Didn't know at the time I had subtly (and without my permission) shifted from hangovers to withdrawals.

For me, what finally made it stick, was I had become borderline suicidal. The alcohol had taken such a toll on my brain that I was starting to have psychotic episodes. And I wanted out of the pain. And ending it was becoming more and more appealing.

It owned me.