Care to write it all out?  Here's how it went down for me: I used to drink a fair amount- a beer at the end of a long day of work, maybe two, and then drink a lot on the weekends because 'fuck it, I'm living in the hellhole that is New Jersey.' Well, I was doing a group writing project where we were working on a book together, and one of the writers was hosting a camp retreat in Rural Ohio. I was figuring a campground of sorts, maybe sit around a campfire, tell stories, and critique each other's writing. You know, like normal fucking people might. Instead, I'm the only other person who shows up aside from the morbidly obese one and her fat family take us out to a trailer park next to a generator done by some beaners at all hours. I just proceed to get myself shitfaced because we took one car (hers) and I didn't know the destination ahead of time. I was told the other writers would be coming, and decided 'whatever, I'll get hammered until they get here tomorrow.' (I later learned they weren't coming, at all). Well, that night, I wake up in a tent with Fatty Patty's hands jammed down my pants.  Well, I shove her off, and she gets offended. It was already known that I didn't like fat people (this was pre-FPH ban, so I'd occasionally shitpost with our material there and write stories about slovenly fat people.) It turns out she'd already tried this on another writer, hence why he'd dropped out of the group, and why the others weren't coming. I demanded to be taken back to my car. I drove it about four blocks to the rural interstate, found the rest stop, and passed out until morning. That was my motivation to lower (and eventually stop) drinking. I wasn't an alcoholic, thankfully.