I think I'm slipping into alcoholism and I'm finding it hard to stop myself. I don't think I'd want to drink if my life weren't so hard

I don't know if any of this matters, but in essence, here's why I'm drinking.

I got kicked out at 17 by my father, spent a couple months homeless but for the grace of a friend's parents who took me in, and managed to finagle my way into college, where under the promise of a 4 years education giving me a life of stability, I slaved away from 2-5 jobs at any single point from freshman to senior year to pay rent. I picked up an addiction to weed, and graduated a few years ago. I was thrust into two jobs in a row where the conditions and pay sucked and scraping by I barely managed to start to get on my feet when the current presidential admin killed the grant that was funding me as a social worker. I took a job as an apprentice in the merchant marine, and moved to the only place I could afford near my union's hiring hall, which is a meth addict filled trailer park in the woods in the swampy south where skinhead nazis walk by eyeing my house for shit to jack, and where the mold makes it hard to breath, and where cockroaches crawl over me at night because no matter how clean i try to keep my house, the state doesn't require my landlord to pay for pest control, so the landlord doesn't, and neither me nor my disabled mother who i take care of have money to pay for it, so we just suffer. The ships I got sent on were terrible, and some of the engineers were good, but the last one spent every day of my working life berating me and cursing me and trying to get me fired on account of my race, to the point I started to show it on my face and everyone was asking me if I was okay. But there was basically no recourse but if you complain in the industry, you get branded a bitch. I got off that ship and I was on the path to financial stability, finishing up the apprenticeship with the prospect of real wages for the first time in a year, when the Department of Homeland Security shut down and forced me off the ships for seven months while I waited for my renewed, non expired merchant marine credential to come in, so I could get back to sailing. I took up the drink a while back and slowly I want a beer became I need a beer and as of late I drink on the daily so I can keep myself sane, because it's the singular escape from the hell I'm in.

I was on a train recently to spend the last of my money to visit some friends in California for a wedding, and I finally got my credential, and I was going to head back out next month. I had a bottle of whiskey I was intending to sip but a couple of guys wanted to spend the night drinnking and I can't control myself around alcohol so I had to much, and then the combination of the drink and lack of sleep made me get vasovagal syncope or whatever, and collapse on the spot. I landed bad on my knee and fractured the shinbone. I can't work for the next few months. I believe I also brought back bed bugs from my trip, even though I only stayed at friend's houses which were pretty clean, and I woke up this morning with 30 or so painful and itchy bites. So now I got roaches and potentially bed bugs too. Fleas at best. And so, even though I'm partly here in this situation because of the drink, I find myself only capable of coping because of the drink. I don't know where to turn. I don't really know how to stop myself. And I pray to God every day for respite but I can't find myself having faith that any of this is going to get better. And I'm just so caught up in the depression and anger and if I drink a beer it gets better and if I don't I start to spiral. If I don't drink, I can't even complete the job applications that can maybe get me out of here because of the fog in my head and the anger and depression that gets cleared away from the alcohol. And I don't think I'd be here if the circumstances weren't so fucking bad. But I can't really escape them.

What do i do?