At what stage in your life did you realize, "No, I can't do this any more" and walk out? Why?

I'm the bastard son of an alcoholic mother who was always looking for love and that left no time for me. I was passed around from one relative to the next, eating whatever was left, wearing someone else's clothes, and sleeping on an canvas army cot wherever there was room. At ten, she asked my aunt if she could move in with her and My aunt said only if you bring Rickey, so my mom and two sisters that she always kept, and me moved into an attic room where my mom and sisters sleeped in a full size bed and I slept on my army cot. She made me get a job delivering newspapers in the morning and after school, so I got up at 4:00 am 7 days a week and 3:00 pm 6 days a week. Every week when I went out and collected the money for the papers I would get a percentage for delivering newspapers, and my mom would take the money from me and drink beer with it, and I didn't dare say anything about it either or it meant a beating which we already got anytime she got mad about something. So at twelve years old I started drinking and having sex and I chased those two things plus drugs for the next thirty eight years. I joined the Navy at 17 just to get away. After the first year I volunteered for duty in Vietnam thinking I'll really be a man after serving in combat with a security force up north by marble mountain. I smoked a lot of heroin cause every day I thought I was going to die. After My tour was up I went through the first Navy rehab. It was a terrible experience. So I went home All fucked up in the head.and the first thing my mother said was I could stay a week but then I'd have to pay rent. So I packed up and left going south. The next ten years I spent Hitch hiking around the country drinking and drugging always thinking it would be better in the next town. I finally found a woman that would put up with me and she was the first of three. All three of them cheated on me so now I'm broken and at 50 years old there is nobody left in my life and that is a feeling of hopelessness that I hope none of you have to feel so I decided to take my life but I couldn't even do that right. I told the hospital that it was just an accident and they let me go. The next week I tried again and this time I almost succeeded but I woke up two days later naked in a padded cell. I spent 28 days there and for some reason I opened up to this nice therapist, and she asked me one day if I thought maybe the drinking and drugging was the problem. I told her no because that was the only way I could stop thinking about Vietnam. I left the hospital and a week later I walked down the steps to a church to a meeting and that is the day I walked away from my old life. I'm 71 and married to a wonderful woman that helps me as I help her, and every day I'm grateful that I didn't end my life that day.today I know that anytime I'm in trouble, I'm the problem. I hope the world treats you right today.