I am so sorry you are going through this. Just over a year ago, my daughters could have written this, I fear.
What made me stop? It was a combination of things. One thing I'd never done was lie about my drinking, or drink in secret, and I'd started to do that. My family were increasingly impatient and intolerant of my drinking, and vocal about my behaviour when I was drinking, about how I was slurring my words, and my bad wine breath. More and more, I was left alone, just me and my wine, on the couch, until I eventually woke after having coma'ed out, in the dark, the cold, to stumble off to bed. I was hiding a bottle of wine in my wardrobe, going up and drinking that, and sneaking the empty out when everyone was out. Telling myself that everyone was being mean and intolerant, and I was actually being 'considerate', because if my drinking disturbed them so much, then I'd drink in private in my room.
One day, I wrote down what I was going to drink that night. And man did I blitz past that allowance. (Poured a shitload of red wine over the sofa, too.) I went through the wine, looked for what else, found the Pedro Ximenez sherry for the Christmas trifle, and drank that? You ever drunk that shit straight? Revolting!!
Next morning, before I could think about what I was committing myself to,I went to DH, bawled my eyes out, and told him my tale of woe. My BIL had been in recovery for a few years, and we rang him, and talked to him. I haven't drunk alcohol since. Not so much as a sherry trifle!