Read the startling truth about alcohol, written by Sven Reiter!

I have written many articles about alcohol and other chemical dependencies, but this one is special because I am writing it under my own name and in public, as a recovering alcoholic/addict. So I have chosen a new approach and the focus is on the hard part of recovery. Truth and honesty are known to be the best medicine.

I know from experience that one of the oldest truths in the world - that an alcoholic wants nothing so much as a drink - is also one of the most untrue. A person suffering from alcohol dependence disorder (mild and severe alcohol dependence according to the Estonian classification) wants nothing more than to be able to be sober, to see the world once and for all, in all its colourful diversity. Addiction disorder is a chronic disease, like any other chronic disease (e.g. arthritis, asthma, etc.), where the term 'chronic' means irreversible damage to the body (i.e. the change is irreversible in this earthly incarnation). The progression of a chronic disease can be halted, if successful, and the patient's situation alleviated by eliminating or mitigating the environmental conditions that triggered the disease and by modifying the patient's own behaviour (including thinking-cognition). Addictive illness is irreversibly damaging to the brain and nervous system (which is not to say that it is not accompanied by, and indeed is accompanied by, a number of other chronic illnesses, especially in the latter stages), which in simple terms means that the aforementioned systems are permanently damaged and the best the sufferer CAN do is to stop using the addictive substance, to become sober/pure for life. Because there is no cure for chronic illness, it is irreversible and will inevitably end. With premature death. What makes addiction special is that first the soul dies out and then, seeing the futility of such a lifestyle, the physical body ceases to exist.

Chronic addictions are thought to have (read: some scientists believe, others are reluctant to believe) a genetic basis. Each individual's genome possesses a set of genes unique to that individual. Addicts have an addict gene, the activation of which leads to irreversible disease of the addict's nervous and brain systems. The genes are thought to be switched on by the environment. In the case of an alcoholic, this happens when he or she is in a social environment that is not suited to his or her human type (stressful life, being around alcoholics, abuse by self and others (especially at a tender age), etc...). Heredity kicks in unpredictably and in a way that is peculiar to each individual - some after a momentary whiff of vodka at the age of 14, others when they retire and raise their 565th pint out of sadness at being a social misfit.

Now, the first point of substance - since the disease of addiction is genetic and is triggered by the environment, the alcoholic is not to blame for his disease, but he has a duty and an ability (= responsibility) to deal with it. (It can always be said that since no one knows whether we have the dormant addict's gene pool, we'd better not look towards the first pint of life. How does it sound? Impossible in Estonia and other "developed" countries, apparently. Alcohol has been here for thousands of years and is our reality today. Even the best alcohol culture does not allow everyone to abstain from their first pint. Reality. That's why I'm in favour of the conscious development of an alcohol culture; no matter how absurd the term may sound to an alcoholic.)

With the introduction out of the way, we can now focus on the content, or a cross-section of an average journey through hell.

First, there is the darkness, the merciful ignorance. You're having a drink with others and at some point your fatal gene set kicks in. You don't notice anything at first, because the 'a-man' sees the world through the curved mirror of alcohol: it seems to him that when he drinks, it's like everyone else. Even if there is a first memory hole, a second, a third, and in the beginning there may be years between them, you are still a normal person to yourself. Sometimes it still happens. "Cool bachelor!" says an acquaintance; "What sex!" sighs another conquest. Here's the first important escape: you can't see it yourself, but your companions can. The trouble is that, as a rule, companions reject you in two ways: some don't want to spend any more time with a drunk like you, but conveniently forget to tell you why. Embarrassment, shame - I'll come back to that below. The other way is to pretend that nothing happened. It's normal, it happens. The first request: notice the person you are with, be honest with them, tell them what you see without embellishing the facts. Whether he listens is up to him, you have done your best. One of the premises of this intervention is that the whole of society, and you among others, need information and education about addictive disorders - for this I give my best every day.

Let's assume that some of the addicts now, because of the observation and intervention of a loved one, have got their wheels turned, have turned to one of the rehabilitation programmes (a la "Twelve Steps" at the Libertas clinic); learnt to know himself better through his illness, which enabled him (with the help of experienced counsellors who have successfully gone through recovery themselves and have been trained to support others) to change his habits and lifestyle, and because he is now aware (having acquired information about addiction and his addictive behavioural traits) and has a support network of peers with similar life experiences, he has a great chance of staying sober for the rest of his life, and thus to offer himself the best life he can live.

Secondly, there comes a time in the life of the cheeky snapper when he begins to suspect that something might be a little off. But a little bit, because it's not being talked about, the information available is incomplete. In the field of social studies, it is easier for the curriculum planner to focus on 'how to save money for retirement' than on various addictions or adequate sex education. At this stage, the 'bullfriend' tries to convince himself that he is capable of graduating whenever he wants. This in itself may be true, but because he is unable to control the resumption, the benefit of the first assumption is negated. Nonetheless, when he first becomes aware of the danger, he may be sober from fright for many years. What follows the period of sobriety is uglier than anyone could ever imagine. The paradox is that, when you start using again, the substance you are taking is a mess, but with a little effort you can overcome it and the second or third time is a charm.

The third stage is reached, where the alcoholic has already accepted that he drinks "a lot", but a psychological defence mechanism is activated that allows him to see his habit "like his neighbour" and he judges it as "normal" through the alcoholic curve mirror. Everybody drinks; see for yourself if you don't believe. The trick here is that, since without this defence mechanism his psyche would be flying against the sky, he will not "remember" the amount drunk or the number of times, converting the latter by a factor of 0,... . Which, from his point of view, is the reality he sees - the subconscious doing the trick of "translating" and also saving the mind from the harsh reality. It is often taken, but social capacity is maintained, the facade is kept: there is a hot meal next to the wine in the house, two cars in front of the house at the right price (bigger than the neighbour's), the children go to elite schools and gyms, and the obligatory holidays and other consumerist criteria for success defined in the 'free market economy' are met. Only the heart is bad, the weight is gaining and the first mild ailments may appear, and the ability to work is diminishing, but at this stage, with willpower and luck, one is able to keep one's fascination intact. It has already been severely undermined by the typical characteristics of the alcoholic: lack of honesty, puffed up by inferiority, consumerism, and superiority and superiority over everyone and everything. Always and in all things, he knows better than anyone how the world works and makes no attempt to hide it. Even when sober; or rather, even more so when sober, because then the brain, saturated with toxins, is more heavily taxed by the body. Friendships begin to dwindle, people are more likely to consume at home and alone. Safe stuff, don't do stupid things (i.e. they don't stand out as much when done at home).

In the fourth stage, the alcoholic becomes suspicious and tries to do some of the addiction tests online. The result is borderline and he promises himself that instead of six nights out a week he will now take five and instead of two workouts a week he will now do four. What actually happens? Consumption increases, the healthy part of the lifestyle decreases. But, you see, his defence mechanism (acquired in childhood) won't allow him to remember and see this, and the consumption continues. Some acquaintances pat themselves on the back for not "man spit a pint/we don't trust a man who doesn't trust himself enough to take a pint/..." and others shy away even more. Both groups refrain from informing the protagonist of what they are seeing (shame about the twilight of time against alcashes, pederasts, ...) and their own possible help mechanism perhaps prevents them from becoming aware of it themselves. Plus there is a lack of awareness of such a societal problem. Memory, carried over from history, tells us that he is a drunk with willpower and morality problems, but otherwise he is a perfectly healthy human being. The drinker himself tries and is sober for a while and then drinks again and decides that tomorrow I'll be sober/if I want to, I'll give in/get as much as I want ... not realising that this is exactly what he is failing at.

In the fifth stage, a hangover that has been more on the physical side may start to become more of a mental problem. Questions of "how am I doing again?" arise; in the morning, self-blameful feelings of shame and embarrassment are eaten away. There is no need to hide from others yet, because others "can't see". The truth is that they do, but they are as silent as the grave. Shame, embarrassment. Personal, communal and national memories flow into the frontal lobe on this subject. Our hero still has a facade, so he still has the strength to seek a solution in his free time, free of his mental hangover, since the problem is already eating away at his soul, eating away at it from the inside. Quite permanently and painfully. It has soon become clear that consumption is too much. But how much is too much, and what to do about it, there is no answer. Not taught at school, silenced at home (not that the same issue has probably been raised repeatedly in the family); shame, embarrassment, silence. The first traces of the ravages of alcoholism are visible in the body. Body weight increases, blood pressure is often above normal, exercise is no longer possible at the previous intensity, and the distance/training is constantly decreasing. Skin dries out, stomach tightness the morning after drinking, possible haemorrhoids, memory loss, etc. Did my heart sting once yesterday when it was "day 4" (i.e. day 3, when I promised to quit drinking DAILY morning; at least no more)? A tiny suspicion that maybe it's a "disease" called ageing? Fifty-year-olds are already in the doctor's surgery with some kind of permanent ailment? They don't bother to work any more either, because they still have the money, and the first excuse they get is to look at the bottom of the bottle. At work, too, many people are beginning to realise what is going on, even though there is nothing directly wrong, the work gets done. The work is already being done at the last minute, with brilliant shortcuts to tasks being hastily glimpsed. There's no sign of creativity, you can barely keep your nose above the point where you should be told: man, we need to talk seriously. You even feel proud of yourself at times, because you have a nickname in the house - 'the man who does it all'; you pride yourself on your quick decision-making, which in hindsight turns out to be a dangerous spur-of-the-moment impulse with consequences. But you've got a 25-year 'doer' career, with medals and decorations; because of them, younger people don't even dare to think that you're not doing the right things and doing things right. The first chance you get, i.e. when you think you have enough money in the bank (which will come quickly, because as an old doer, you're on a super salary), you quit your job so you can ... drink in peace. Work starts to interfere with living (drinking). In the summer, you're no stranger to the back of the village shop, there's a vending machine and you're an eco-friendly superman.

Our acquaintance has a lucky draw - he stops before the sixth stage and horror fans will be disappointed today. For those who can't give it up, check out the Finnish film "The Diary of a Madman"; a humorous prism, but quite realistic and ugly.

Knight finds himself in a circle of friends, where he complains that life has lost its purpose, that nothing interests him any more and that everything has already been seen and done. Nothing gets started anymore. Have you heard any of these phrases? If you haven't, listen up - quite often on air. And finally, a friend asks, casually and in an innocent way - haven't you gone overboard with the booze? The knight pulls the harness of the knight abruptly taut, the alkoratsu, shaking his head and spraying foam for a long time, says "Ptruuuuuu", and our hero flies over the head of the knight straight into the cold and clear water of the spring pond, where the frog, who hasn't kissed yet, whispers softly in his ear: "Man, sober up, then the princess will come".

What I would like to point out here is that you don't have to watch the horror to the end, you can get off the road to hell before the end. As long as there is a home, a family at the table, a warm room and food on the table. Having recovered from the chilling shock of his own demise, the protagonist overhears his friend talking quietly about his experience - how he stopped drinking alcohol xx years ago, went through a programme and got the best life he could ever hope for. His journey of self-discovery over those xx years, and the ongoing, lifelong process of self-transformation that led to his decision to live a sober life, the only full life for an alcoholic. The way described is also one of the only possible ways to show the alcoholic the real-life picture and to create in him the will to get out of the vicious circle, to help him notice and be grateful for the journey he has been on, for all that he still has and for the moment he met the friend who pushed him with a soft conscious nudge to the shore. To grow as a human being.

Learn to notice your neighbour in his or her distress.

Sven Reiter, Experience Advisor