I was similar. The stuff that I told myself "well at least I don't/at least I didn't" when I first tried to get sober at 30 came and went in a flash. Well, at least I don't drink in the mornings turned into the entire point of my existence is to drink, there's no reason to put arbitrary limits on it like "daylight" or "morning" or "not knowing what time it even is". That reflexive drink on waking, the point where you could no longer keep your eyes closed to try sleeping, that's the closest I have come to hell.
The movie Leaving Las Vegas came out when I was about twenty. At the time, I interpreted Nicolas Cage's portrayal of alcoholism as just over-the-top goofball acting, no different than his Southern accent in Con Air, because who in the fuck would or could drink like that? By 2017/2018, the behaviors that seemed so ridiculous and alien in 1996 looked a lot more familiar. But that realization wasn't enough to slow me down for even a second. The only thing that stopped me was thinking about what my daughter's life might be like if I succeeded in drinking myself to death before her third birthday. That made me willing enough to try a real inpatient rehab, and it kind of flowed downhill from there-- I was just barely willing enough at every stage of the process to say "this is probably bullshit, this probably won't work, but I'm going to try it for her". Miraculously, every inflection point where I shrugged and just tried the next right thing for my little girl's sake has worked out, and eventually I really did achieve the upward momentum to rely on the program and my Higher Power first and foremost anytime I was challenged-- I have grown to where I want to be a sane, happy, healthy, sober person for me and me alone first, and I am then able to enjoy the blessings of being that person for all the people around me.
My ON and OFF switches were both broken. They're still broken. The grace of God is the only thing keeping them in the correct position.