Never sick of you, Serenidad.
I wanted to die. When I woke up in the morning, I was angry. Angry I didn't die in my sleep, angry I had to fight drinking another day, knowing I would lose. I felt defeated, stuck, hopeless. I cared about nothing, no one. I was done. There was no forward movement in my life, every day was the same and I hated myself so much I could hardly do anything but come home from work and drink myself into oblivion.
But I'm a chicken, so I couldn't pull the trigger and just drink 24/7. I was so afraid of what would happen if I got a DUI, or fired from my job, I decided I was DONE. With alcohol. That stagnant, petrified feeling was my bottom. Either it had to stop, or I was going to die. I knew I was going to die if I did not stop drinking.
It took me so many years to come to this realization. But thank god I did.