Realizing I was addicted, that is DEEPLY ADDICTED, when I previously thought I could stop anytime I wanted, was worse than the drinking itself. OK, the drinking was worse, but the thought of being addicted to a substance is so abhorrent to me that it became one of the bigger reasons to quit.
I was so happy to get rid of the addiction and to stop drinking, that I think I could have been happy for that alone, but I'm not sure. In fact, I have a lot of things that make me happy. Drinking is not one of them. But all of those things that make me happy were things I worked hard at. I was even happy working hard for them.
What I'm saying is that it doesn't seem like happiness is something that rains down upon us without us being part of the cause. Maybe it does. Maybe happiness is a chemical balance that we cannot control, but whether it is or it isn't it seems like we make a lot of our own happiness. I believe many of us make our own discontent also.