Moderated Drinking
In 2018, to appease my wife, I decided to seek treatment options to help me cut back. I had to do something to prove I was in the business of better health, or my marriage was in jeopardy. My wife put a stake in the ground. I had to figure out my drinking or figure out how to live without her.
So, I did some research on the Internet. Like most, I was familiar with Alcoholics Anonymous (AA).
Apologizing to people I’d wronged, branding myself an alcoholic, and sharing my intimate feelings with a room full of miserable chain smokers did not sound appealing.
Internet sleuthing uncovered new research that showed that heavy drinkers could be culled back slowly to consume a moderate amount of alcohol without quitting. Or, it appeared, after a period of sobriety, they could resume drinking responsibly. AA, some argued, was old and antiquated. It was an institution founded by white men in the 1930s before science and research had unlocked the genetic keys to addiction and before there were medications and clinically proven treatments and therapies to aid in recovery. AA relied on abstinence, God, and white-knuckling periods of sobriety.
AA members also follow a rigid set of 12 steps and principles for living that must be strictly adhered for the remainder of an alcoholic’s life if one wished to remain sober. Those who return to use would end up dead, in prison, or in an insane asylum, the Big Book of AA argues.
New treatment centers and addiction scholars were preaching that this old way of thinking is akin to leeching. The never-ending shackles of AA sounded like a prison sentence. There were even medications that could be prescribed to quell cravings for alcohol. Just my luck—one of the pioneers in this school of thought had an outpatient treatment center in the heart of downtown St. Paul, about a mile from my work office.
The treatment facility employed a marketing strategy that depicted treatment as an intimate individualized plan based on patient needs and preferences. Treatment plans would be rooted in evidence-based care and the most recent scientific research, a major change to the typical recovery dogma.
A passage from the organizations Facebook page read, “Rehab programs and centers offer standardized, cookie-cutter approaches, where all patients receive the same treatment. They have fixed lengths of stays and require a major commitment of time and money, no matter what kind of problem their patients may have. In contrast, our patients have no set program, cost, type, or fixed length of treatment. One patient could come for a consultation only, while another may receive treatment for years. For lasting results, addiction and alcohol recovery treatments should be unique and tailored to the individual.”
That was some fine marketing copy. I bought into this approach instantly. It was the smart way to abstain for the current renaissance man, and it didn’t necessarily include sobriety. I called the clinic and made an appointment for an assessment. I was to meet with its founder, an addiction psychiatrist, and a therapist who would ask me screening questions to set me up with a treatment plan.
During my initial assessment, I sat down with the founder of the clinic one on one to devise the best method of drinking for my long-term health. I couldn’t believe my doctor was going to be the famous expert who was featured in addiction science stories in the New York Times, the Atlantic, and HBO documentaries. I felt like I was going to become fast friends with a celebrity.
I was expecting the doc to give me the green light on the cut-down approach to alcoholism that I’d read about in news articles and the clinic website. I shared the intimate details with him about my current rate of consumption—a guesstimate was 1.75 liters of Bacardi every week with beers interspersed to mix it up.
He responded frankly and unexpectedly. “You have to quit. You have no chance. You’ve been at this awhile. All our clients would like to continue using their drug of choice for the rest of their lives, but that’s not a realistic option for most of us,” he said. “If you want to try cutting back, you certainly can. Sometimes people need to fail on their own.”
It appeared the clinic’s clinical strategy and marketing messages did not align. I had already made up my decision to continue drinking before our meeting. I was selectively listening and prescribing my own tailored approach of moderated drinking. My response to his assessment was, “Okay, Doc. Sounds great. We’ll go with the cutback routine!”