I don't remember my last drink, but it was the end of a 3-week nonstop binge that I remember little of except driving to the store every morning when I was least drunk but not yet shaking badly and buying a day's worth of beer, 18 or 24 packs of Bud, at the corner 7-11. Wife had moved out but came to visit, and after my last beer but before I woke up from passing out again, she poured out the rest and told me, I'm gone for good if you go out for more, it has to end now.
I knew it had to end too, I was at the point where I knew deep down it was either stop and maybe get my life back, or push aside the last help I would get, keep drinking, and die soon. So I resigned myself to going through what would be the worst detox of them all, spent at home with no meds, that would go on for 3 days before I was stable enough to take a shower and leave the house. I re-entered outpatient treatment at that point, and that last drink was really the last, 12/29/2010.