RICHARD R. PEABODY
BOSTON,
April 18, 1928
In
the use of alcohol as a beverage there is a descending scale of
mental as well as physical reaction, increasingly pathological,
beginning with almost total abstinence and ending with delirium
tremens, alcoholic dementia, and death. Just where on this scale
chronic alcoholism begins is open to a variety of opinion, but for
practical working purposes I draw the dividing line between those to
whom a night’s sleep habitually represents the end of an alcoholic
occasion and those to whom it is only an unusually bag period of
abstention. The former class, which will be referred to as normal,
includes the man who limits himself to a casual glass of beer, as
well as the man who is intoxicated every evening. But at worst they
are hard drinkers, going soberly about their business in the daytime,
seeking escape from social rather than subjective suppressions, and
to be definitely distinguished from the morning drinkers who are, to
all intents and purposes, chronic alcoholics, inebriates, or
drunkards. There are normal men who occasionally indulge in a
premeditated debauch, and who sometimes start the next day with a
drink; but by and large, the men who can drink and remain
psychologically integrated avoid it the next day until evening
(midday social events excepted).
At
first glance such a division would seem to be a quantitative one, but
I believe this would be a superficial judgement. In reality there is
a clearly defined qualitative mental reaction in chronic alcoholism,
more closely associated with narcotics than with the normal use of
alcohol.
It
does not appear that the original impulse to drink is much, if any,
stronger in the chronic alcoholic than it is in the hard drinker, and
I believe that the latter would have almost as much difficulty in
giving up his habit in spite of his boasting to the contrary; but
when it comes to stopping temporarily, the situation is entirely
different. once he has entered into it the drunkard has a
pathological dread of leaving the alcoholic state.
A
man said to me the other day, "That first drink in the morning
is the best of all. It makes you feel as if you were coming back to
sanity." Normal drinkers know nothing of such an experience as
that.
So
it is with the individual to whom alcohol has become a narcotic that
this article is concerned.
II
Of
course people are not born drunkards, except potentially. Havelock
Ellis states that it is no easy matter to make a drunkard out of the
average man. This transition is often subtle and slow. It may take
place within a year of the initial indulgence or it may be postponed
for twenty years. The first definite and generally fatal step is
taken when the discovery is made that the mind rather than the body
is suffering from alcoholic excess, and that a drink is good medicine
for this mental suffering. A man then conceives the idea that he can
avoid a nervous depression which he has become too cowardly to face.
If he originally felt the necessity to escape from reality by getting
intoxicated, reality plus a "hangover" must be avoided at
all costs. I do not believe that the average alcoholic wants to
remain in a state of intoxication, in the same sense, at any rate,
that he wanted to drink in the beginning. He is constantly
rationalizing that he is "tapering off" and is seldom
enjoying his spree after the first or second day; but he cannot,
stand the nervousness and depression that set in when the narcotic is
stopped or even cut down. He talks of "needing" a drink
rather than of "wanting" one, and when a man "needs"
alcohol, he has definitely reached a pathological stage of drinking.
III
The
behavior of the alcoholic is, I believe, better explained as an
abnormal search for ego maximation or self-preservation than in terms
of repressed libido - using libido in the Freudian sense. There is
invariably an inordinate craving for power in an organism that has
proved’ totally incapable of realizing its cravings. The alcoholic
state takes on the aspect of a simple wish-fulfillment dream. For the
time being - i.e., while drinking - the individual has caught up with
his imagination. In fact, much can be learned about him by asking him
to describe what constitutes to his mind an ideal debauch. On the
other hand, mental analyses have rarely disclosed anything abnormal
or suppressed in the conscious sex lives of the patients, though I
realize that psychoanalysis has uncovered strong evidence of latent
homosexuality in the, unconscious minds of alcoholics. There is
almost always, however, some degree of inferiority feeling and often
it is extreme. It is a separate and more fundamental inadequacy than
that which alcoholic misconduct itself creates, through dissipation
and shame form such an exceedingly vicious circle that the whole
problem on the surface seems confined to the symptom itself. The
alcoholic is often unconsciously glad of what he considers a manly
excuse to escape his responsibilities and conceal his weakness. A
sober ineffective personality is unbearable, but there is something
heroic about a drunkard. So he regresses to an infantile state of
irresponsibility in which he imagines himself to be safe, and it is
this regressive factor that accounts, I think, for much of the
childish behavior in those under the influence of liquor.
Originally I tried to explain alcoholism in terms of extroversion and introversion — i.e., as a disease of introversion. There were enough alcoholic extroverts, however, to make such a position untenable, further than to say that alcoholics who are predominantly introverted outnumber the extroverted by three or four to one.
To
digress slightly, while I agree with Professor McDougall that the
introvert drinks to extrovert himself, I must add that the extrovert
drinks for the same reason - that is, further to extrovert himself,
but I disagree with McDougall when he says that a person is
hard-headed in withstanding the effects of alcohol in proportion as
he is introverted. Better, to say that he is light-headed in
proportion to his, psychological disintegration.
In
searching for causes, it is necessary to distinguish between those
that merely influence the individual to take up drinking and those
that make him a chronic alcoholic. The former are too obvious and of
too little interest to be a part of this article. As for the latter,
the question of inheritance naturally arises first. I do not believe
and have never seen it stated that the direct craving for alcohol was
transmitted from one generation to another. In nearly every case,
however, my patients have referred to at least one of their parents
as being nervous or temperamental, and often their abnormal behavior
seems to have been extreme. Therefore, we can reasonably say, it
seems to me, that a nervous system that cannot function properly
under alcoholic stimulation is definitely inherited, but that is as
far as we can hold the parents responsible, genetically speaking,
regardless of their habits.
Much
more important is the early home environment. It is difficult to say
just what part an alcoholic setting plays in the formation of the
child’s character. My own theory is that it is of less importance
than one would imagine. It may influence him to drink when he
matures, but his tendency to pathological drinking depends on whether
he has been taught to believe in and rely on himself or whether he
has been frightened, neglected, or pampered, thereby growing up
inadequately adjusted to his environment, with attending feelings of
inferiority. Cases of chronic alcoholism in which the parental
attitude toward the child was intelligent are, rare; more frequently
it was decidedly abnormal. Where exceptions to this theory have been
noted, I must confess I have been at a loss to explain the etiology
of the habit.
IV
The
reason we so seldom find alcoholism combined with a pronounced
phobia, hysteria, or combination is, I think, because alcoholism has
fortuitously occurred as a symptom of an underlying condition which
might just as well have been expressed in another kind of neurosis.
If, as Freud says, the neurosis is the negative of a perversion, I’
do not see why it would not be equally truthful to say that chronic
alcoholism is the negative of a neurosis.
I
say fortuitously, but as a matter of fact it is a rather natural
method of escape from disturbing conflicts because it is arrived at
by a quasi-normal route. An alcoholic is only doing in an exaggerated
way what a large portion of the normal male public has done for
centuries, and he is not conscious of his pathological condition
until its symptomatic expression is fully developed.
While
chronic alcoholism is just as definitely a symptom of an abnormal
mental condition, as claustrophobia, the analysis of alcoholics as a
group brings out different states of mind from those found in more
commonly recognized psychoneurotic conditions.
For
instance, that exaggerated concentration on self which characterizes
most neurotics is much less apparent in alcoholics. They are more
interested in life objectively, even though this interest may be of a
non-participating nature. A very large majority are intellectually as
well as morally honest. (Incidentally, where they are not morally
honest when sober, the prognosis is exceedingly unfavorable.) While
they are less fearful of their condition, they are far less
courageous in their efforts to overcome it. If the average alcoholic
had half the bravery and perseverance of the average neurotic,, his
problem would soon be a thing of the past. This statement is made
because of the apparent ease with which the inebriate indulges
himself, once his mind is made up. There seems rarely, if ever, to be
that heroic struggle so often found in those suffering from the
various psychoneuroses. The point of view is merely changed and
action automatically follows. That is why, in the treatment of
alcoholism, the mental synthesis must be stressed in contrast to the
analysis that has proved so important in the more typical neuroses.
V
Once
a man has become a drunkard, it is no easy matter to rehabilitate him
even under the best conditions. It takes at least fifty and generally
nearer one hundred hours of work on the part of the instructor and an
almost perpetual concentration on the part of the subject. He is
taking a course in mental reorganization and he must never forget it.
Therefore, certain types can be eliminated as unsuitable for
treatment. This includes those who are in any way psychotic, as well
as those who wish to recover temporarily for some ulterior motive,
as, for instance, the pacification of irate parents by sons eager for
an opportunity to renew their excesses, or of discouraged wives by
husbands anxious to keep out of the divorce court. Another futile
group are those who wish to be taught to "drink like gentlemen,"
as the saying goes. There is only one thing a drunkard can be taught
and that is complete abstention forever, and it is only to those who
are sincere and intelligent enough to comprehend this that the
treatment is applicable.
Between
the sane, sincere group and that just referred to there exists a
rather large number of people for whom the prognosis is most
uncertain, further than to say that a cure will be effected only
after a very long and discouraging course of treatment, if at all.
This group I can only designate by those vague terms "constitutional
inferior," psychopathic personality," and "peculiar
personality." These people are obviously sane and in their own
way sincere, but they never have been well integrated even before
they indulged in alcohol. They seem to lack sufficient driving force
(libido as the word is used by Jung) to sustain any plan of
constructive thought or action long enough to have it crystallize
into permanently fixed habits. even though rarely cured in the
strictest sense of the word, the alcoholic outbreaks of these
individuals are often restricted to relative infrequency if they are
kept under more or less permanent supervision.
VI
Before
describing what the treatment is, mention should be made of one thing
that it is not, and that is ethical exhortation. patients have
invariably been surfeited with preaching, and they must, be reached
by some new approach if their attention is to be gained and held.
Appeals to their self-respect, warnings as to future mental and
physical disasters seldom do any good. Nor are patients encouraged to
give up their habit for the benefit of anybody else. It may, strike a
romantic note in the beginning, but sooner or later the person for
whom it is given up does something or is imagined to have done
something which gives unconsciously the longed for excuse to drink.
The patient’s problem is to overcome his habit because he himself
believes it to be the expedient thing to do.
There
have been cases where the individual has been persuaded that he
wanted to stop drinking as well as shown how to do it, but it is more
satisfactory to deal with people whose moral problems have been
previously settled.
VII
The
treatment may be subdivided as follows:(1) analysis; (2) relaxation
and suggestion; auto—relaxation and auto-suggestion; (4) general
discussion, which might be called persuasion in the manner of Dubois
or readjustment after McDougall; (5) outside reading; (6) development
where possible of one or more interests or hobbies; (7) exercise; (8)
operating on a daily schedule; (9) thought direction and thought
control in the conscious mind.
On the first interview I try to gain the confidence of the patient by showing him that his pathological drinking is thoroughly understoo4 and that he is not going to be treated by prayer or abuse.
The
patient is encouraged to give a full account of his past history and
present situation. I try to make the analysis as thorough as
possible, but ‘do not go into the unconscious. There are cases of
compulsive periodic dipsomania, which would unquestionably require a
psychoanalysis, but I have not met one of them yet. Stekel, I
believe, is authority for the statement that psychoanalysis should be
used only when other methods have failed. As many worries as can be
are removed by helping the patient’ to come to definite decisions,
or at least partially relieved by making as concrete plans as
possible. Some conflicts tend to disappear under confession,
discussions and explanation, and many more are considerably
diminished. This is a most necessary preliminary, but only a
preliminary to the work.
VIII
The
second phase of treatment, relaxation and suggestion, is, as far as I
can determine, what Boris Sidis has called hypnoidal suggestion, and
has been referred to as being particularly effective in the treatment
of alcoholism. The patient is put into a state of abstraction. He is
asked to close his eyes, breathe slowly, and think of the more
prominent muscles when they are mentioned as becoming relaxed. The
cadence of the voice is made increasingly monotonous, ending with the
suggestion that the patient is drowsier and sleepier. This lasts for
five minutes, and then an equal amount of time is spent in giving
simple constructive ideas.
More important also is the application of the same measures by the individual himself before going to sleep at night. Ideas that occupy the mind at that time have a particularly effective influence on the thoughts and actions of the succeeding day.
The
importance of this part of the treatment is all out of proportion in
its effect to the time that it takes. Not only does it have a direct
bearing on alcoholism, but it gives the patient a method of control
that is extremely helpful in creating other changes in his
personality, once his habit has been conquered. In other words, the
alcoholic habit being only a symptom, its removal is only a part of
the work. Treatment of the underlying conditions reorganizes the
entire character, ‘with benefits extending far beyond the negative
one of alcoholic abstention.
While
on the subject of relaxation, which has been considered in its
application for the purpose of influencing the unconscious mind -
that is, in a special sense - I might add that it has a general
bearing on the immediate causes of drinking. Courtenay Baylor in an
excellent little book called Remaking a Man, now unhappily out of
print, sets forth as his central theme the idea that drinking before
all else gives an artificial release from a tense state of mind, and
when this mental tenseness is removed, the apparent necessity for
drinking disappears.
It
is undeniable that two definite states of mind are sought after by
the drinker - calmness and happiness. The childish pleasure that the
alcoholic attains in the early stages of intoxication can be easily
dispensed with when the desire to give up drinking is genuine, but
the release from nervous tension is a different matter. When a person
has been taught relaxation, he is treating the immediate cause rather
than the symptom itself, which is the first step in removing the
primary conscious cause —i.e., the feeling of inferiority and fear.
The imagined fascination of alcohol lies in the fact that it is a
stimulant and a narcotic at the same time, psychologically speaking.
In other words, drink soothes as it elates and it elates largely
because it soothes - i.e., relaxes. Barbitol will soothe, but in a
purely negative manner and without any accompanying idea of elation.
Strychnine and coffee will stimulate, but with so much nervous
excitation that their stimulation has little relationship to escape
from reality. Alcohol in the preliminary stages produces
simultaneously the two longed for states of mind in a way that is
unfortunately most seductive to those who can the least afford
artificial stimulation or relaxation.
It is an interesting point that alcoholics as a class, no matter how cynical they may be, respond to relaxation even more enthusiastically than other neurotics, though it would seem that the latter were more in need of it and therefore would be more impressed by it.
IX
Development
of new interests is obviously a most important part of any
therapeutic treatment. The only way to remove destructive ideas from
a person’s mind is to introduce constructive ones. For a man to
occupy himself solely with the thought that he is not going to drink
would be such a sterile performance that it would probably not be
true, for long at any rate. An alcoholic has one idea of pleasure,
and it is of the greatest importance that he discovers as soon as
possible that he can enjoy life in many ways outside of intoxication
if he will lift himself to a more intelligent plane of thought and
action. Furthermore; a drunkard has little by little withdrawn
himself from his natural environment, his acquaintance is apt to be
the dregs of society, and drunk or sober, his constructive interest
in things of any value is nil. He must be made to reach out in many
directions to divert himself from his former negative stereotyped
habits.
The
reason that long periods of being on the conventional "water
wagon" have not changed a man’s point of view is because the
idea of eventual indulgence has kept the alcoholic conflict alive and
thus prevented the creative urge from becoming attached to some
worth-while interest. It is essential that this normal urge be given
adequate expression. Where it is inhibited through fear or laziness,
its force is not extinguished, but turned inward, creating a
conflict, which symbolically expresses itself in fear, worry, or
boredom. Thus a mental situation is produced that needs to be soothed
and forgotten, and it is perfectly obvious how the alcoholic is going
to sooth and forget it. Until he rearranges his life so that he no
longer perpetually craves to escape from his inner turmoil, he feels
that he is up against a temptation which he cannot resist, though he
thinks of the temptation as an entity in itself and not as a symbolic
defense against an underlying mental condition. The creative urge
must be legitimately satisfied. Jung, referring to neurotics in his
essay The Ego and the Unconscious, remarks: "As a result of
their narrow conscious outlook and their too limited existence, they
spend too little energy. The unused surplus gradually accumulates in
the unconscious, and finally explodes in the form of a more or less
acute neurosis." For "neurosis" I think we should
substitute "debauch" without changing the validity of the
statement.
While
on the subject of interest development, a case recently finished
might be mentioned in which the patient was encouraged to develop his
literary proclivities. One night, while writing an essay, he became
so absorbed in his work that he experienced the same vital intensity
that he had found previously only in intoxication, and he stayed
awake until four o’clock in the morning to finish it. I felt then
for the first time that sooner or later he would be cured. It proved
to be true. In a short time he obtained research work in a library
and supplemented that by writing book reviews for the newspapers. As
he expressed it, "I am enjoying life for the first time without
rum."
One
method, obviously, of arousing a normal interest is reading. There is
a short list of books that patients are asked to read carefully,
marking the passages that appeal to them. These passages are later
copied into a notebook along with some typewritten sheets that are
given them, the most important of which I shall outline when I come
to the topic of persuasion. These books are self—help essays of a
practical rather than a religious or sentimental nature. Arnold
Bennett’s Human Machine, Cosrer’s Psychoanalysis for Normal
People, and James’s monograph on habit are typical examples.
X
The
importance of a reasonable amount of exercise each day, as well as
obedience to the ordinary rules of hygiene, cannot be overemphasized.
A mind can function properly only in a well regulated body, and an
alcoholic in process of reorganization needs to have his mind
function as near 100 per cent properly as he can all the time.
While
on the subject of hygiene, I might add that precautions are taken to
find out if the individual is as physically healthy as possible, and
if he has not recently been examined, he is urged to get in touch
with his physician. At any rate, I disclaim any responsibility on the
physical side and never under any circumstances suggest even the
simplest medicines.
XI
We
now come to the most important phase of the treatment, the central
feature to which all others are expected to contribute. That is
thought direction and control. A person literally thinks himself out
of his alcoholic habit, and his ability permanently to control or
direct his thoughts is the determining factor in his success! or
failure. A drunkard is invariably lost when he takes his first drink,
or perhaps it would be better to say when the determining thought to
take the drink becomes crystallized in his mind. Back of this thought
are a long series of thoughts leading up to it, which, had they
existed in opposite form, would have produced correspondingly
different action.
As
one alcoholic expressed it, "Sometimes I actually find myself at
the bootlegger’s almost without knowing how I got there, and
without, I am sure, intending to go there." When I showed him
his habitual thought processes, he readily saw how this apparent
somnambulism had taken place.
To
be more explicit, patients are advised to divert their minds as much
as possible from the whole subject of drinking. When this diversion
amounts to downright suppression - when it is impossible of
accomplishment, as is always the case in the beginning - then they
are most emphatically told to think of the subject in its entirety,
as it exists in fact. If they, are reflecting on some "wonderful
party" that they have had, then they must pursue it to its
conclusion, and recall as vividly as possible the remorse, the
sickness, and the trouble that came after it, bringing the question
down to the present time. Before leaving the subject, they must have
a complete view of the whole dismal picture. Nothing is more harmful
than thinking or daydreaming in the past, present or future on the
pleasant side of alcoholic excesses. Whereas, if the alcoholic will
review the entire scene, he will reject the dangerous suggestion that
alcohol produces a truly pleasurable occasion.
Some
drinkers give up trying to justify their behavior, but the reasoning
processes of the great majority are a series of rationalizations. The
excuses range from inheritance to a cold in the head, and they are
all equally futile. The alcoholic must understand that there, are no
excuses for his taking even one glass of beer. If a man takes a
drink, it is because he wants to take it and not because he is
impelled to do so by some exterior event.
XII
The
following ideas form the substance of what I have designated as
discussion or persuasion. These thoughts are repeated over and over
again to the patient in one form or another.
The first thing to impress on his mind is the fact that he is a drunkard and as such to be deliberately distinguished from his moderate or hard-drinking friends; furthermore, that he can never successfully drink anything containing alcohol. These points have been already explained, as has thought direction and control.
XIII
In
spite of much pretense, no work of a serious nature is ever
accomplished until the alcoholic surrenders completely to the fact
just mentioned in regard to never drinking alcohol in any form or
quantity. This surrender to its full depth is apt to be a difficult
thing to accomplish because of the interference of a distorted pride.
A man who is bold enough to enter a condition that he knows is
disgracing him is ashamed to admit to himself and to his friends that
he has given up the cause of his disgrace. On three occasions this
year I have made inquiry into the sudden favorable change of attitude
on the part of the patient, and each time I received the answer,
"Well, I really never made up my mind to stop for good before. I
never really gave up on the idea that I couldn’t and wouldn’t
drink some day in the distant future." My reply to this is ‘that
one attitude toward drinking which at first seems reasonable, but
which from long experience has proved to be disastrous, is that of
stopping for only a limited period of time, no matter how long that
period may be. If a person could refrain from drinking for five years
while diligently reconstructing his thought processes, it would be
sufficient. Unfortunately it has been thoroughly proven that five
years can and does become five minutes under emotional excitement in
a manner that would seem impossible in moments of calm reasoning.
XIV
While
the theory of treatment is not predicated on will power except in so
far as it applies to carrying out instructions, it is necessary that
the will be used in the early stages while the new methods are
getting thought power upon its feet. Obviously, new ideas cannot make
much headway in a mind that is constantly befuddled’ with alcohol.
Because in the long run people tend to do as they wish, will power
sooner or later loses in the conflict with desire. Win or lose, a
perpetual conflict in the mind is almost as much of a handicap as its
outward expression in a habit. The proper control of thinking,
therefore, must be established to obviate the necessity for will
power by redirecting the psychic processes.
The
greatest difficulty in trying to accomplish this is to find enough
things for patients to do when they are absent from the office. They
should consider that they are taking a course, but because of the
simplicity of the work it is difficult for them to keep their mind on
the seriousness of what they are doing.
It
is impressed upon them that they must play the part of
self-instructor as well as of student. It is really this instructor
element in them that stimulated their interest in the beginning, and
they must continue to cooperate with me and not expect that I can do
all the work with them in the role of passive listeners. Regardless
of their past record, they must be made to feel as self—reliant as
possible, for in. the last analysis it is they who must reorganize
themselves while I am only their associate instructor. The reverse of
this necessary self—reliant attitude is, of course, the main
argument against confining a person to an institution. He is sober
there because he cannot be otherwise. His power of choice is removed
by compulsion, with attending humiliation. Incarceration should never
be employed until everything else has failed and the desperateness of
the situation requires that society be considered first and the
individual second. A situation in which careful physical supervision
is necessary to enable a man to recuperate from long continued
excesses would of course constitute an exception to this statement.
Where the individual willingly goes to an institution as a means of
checking an irresistible compulsion to drink, the effect is entirely
different- i.e., beneficial.
XV
It
has been found that a most useful aid to reintegration is to make out
a schedule each evening and then follow it faithfully the next day.
It prevents idleness, assists in making the work concrete, and, what
is most important, trains the individual to execute his own commands.
If a person cannot do simple things and in the manner planned, he has
little chance of overcoming his major temptation. If, on the other
hand, he. forms the habit of carrying out his own instructions, he
creates thereby a disciplined will and an executive state of mind, so
that when the idea of drinking comes to his attention, there is every
chance of it being diverted. An alcoholic is a specialist at avoiding
life, but it is as rarely his fundamental philosophy to do so, he is
in a constant state of conflict and dissatisfaction; so it is our
first duty to build up a moral that will take care of normal
responsibilities and give him a legitimate feeling of power.
Incidentally, a schedule discloses the limits of laziness and
insincerity. When you find a subject who will not and cannot keep a
schedule that he makes himself, with the understanding that it can be
changed for honest reasons, you can be pretty sure that you are going
to be unsuccessful with him until he changes his attitude, and you
may be somewhat skeptical that he can change it.
Wise
planning is a most important preliminary to a course of conduct, and
for most people it is comparatively easy. But the majority of
alcoholics, in common with neurotics, find the execution of a plan
difficult, even through to a normal person the plan itself may seem
short and simple. As William James has stated in his essay on habit,
once a course of action has been determined upon, execute it. This
applies to the small things of the alcoholic’s life as well as the
central theme. Many nervous troubles have a common denominator
exaggerated introspection, and the greatest defense against this
weakness is sustained action. The alcoholic must be able to observe
concrete, positive results of his efforts as a means of maintaining,
his interest in the work.
XVI
Of
the various methods discussed for combating chronic alcoholism, it is
impossible as well as unnecessary to say which is the most or the
least important. That would vary with the individual. Each element
has its place, and it would not be fair to several of the elements if
one or two were neglected. The surest way to prolong the work is to
avoid the more distasteful part and then become depressed because the
rest, of it does not produce better results.
In
no case where a relapse has occurred has it been found that a person
has been cooperating conscientiously. In fact the usual answer to my
query is, "Yes, I must admit that I have only been making about
half an effort. I thought I was going ahead all right and didn’t
need it." To which I reply that he is getting out of the work
just what he put into it, and that the same ratio will continue in
the future. Hard, faithful work cannot be avoided, as the habitual
thinking of many years is not going to be reversed in a month or two.
After
certain progress has been made, there is one bit of sophistry that
the alcoholic has to guard against, and that is the idea that he is
entitled to a vacation. He knows that he has shown improvement, so he
imagines that if he falls temporarily, those who are interested in
him will still feel encouraged, and such action will not prove fatal
to the eventual cure. There is enough truth to this reasoning to make
it a serious impediment to recovery if it is acted upon.
XVII
Much
of this persuasion obviously aims at prevention through anticipation.
Difficulties of which one is forewarned are not apt to be so
dangerous where one is sincerely desirous of embarking on a new
course of behavior. In this connection there are three points that I
wish to bring out.
It
is generally understood that the best excuses for drinking are those
of an unpleasant emotional nature - anger, worry, and sorrow. It is
not so well recognized, but equally true, that the pleasant emotions
have just as contagious an effect and in many cases more so. An
alcoholic has to learn to face success with the same fortitude,
strange as it may seem, as he does disaster. Any emotional
stimulation has to be guarded from spreading into, the alcoholic
sphere in order to avoid the return to humdrum reality. It is only
when reality has been made constructively interesting and the fear of
it thereby removed that a patient can stand normal excitement. Just
as one drink leads invariably to another, so an emotion seems to take
the place of the first drink by producing the same mental condition.
This emotional contagion is an exceedingly important point. It is the
cause of a great deal of unaccounted for alcoholic behavior, behavior
which is often the hardest to control.
Why
a man under pleasant emotional stimulation seeks narcotic escape from
reality in the same manner as he does from unpleasant emotions is an
interesting question, but difficult to answer. My own theory is that
a neurotic is unconsciously, and possibly consciously, afraid when
his emotional equilibrium is disturbed, no matter what the quality of
the disturbance may be. When he is in a state of euphoria, he
evidently feels the need of a stabilizer to the same extent as he
does in dysphoria. Just as he is bored when he looks inward, so he is
frightened when he looks outward, if the customary scene has changed
even a little.
An individual who was prematurely confident of his self control fell from grace at a recent football game. "When your team made its first score, you had your first drink," I said. He started to tell me it was not until the half was over, but saw my point before he had finished. "Yes," he said. "I never thought of it that way before, but it is perfectly true. Between the halves that first actual drink went down with as little compunction as if it had been the third or fourth ordinarily. I lost my emotional balance when the team scored and got into the alcoholic frame of mind before I knew it."
XVIII
Much
trouble is caused by men trying to force themselves into an
uncongenial environment on the plea that they like it when
intoxicated. As a matter of fact, they like almost any thing when
intoxicated, and nothing when sober. Somewhere in them is a
supposedly genuine discrimination. When a natural interest is
unearthed or a new one acquired, they find that it is not necessary
to enjoy everything, or even many things, if they will soberly and
sincerely expend their energy on the, few things that catch their
imagination and hold their attention. Where there is no real interest
and none can be created, the difficulty of the problem is
tremendously increased. These obvious truths are mentioned because it
seems to be a part of the treatment to drive home platitudes as if
they were profundities.
XIX
Moral
victories, strange to relate, have to be watched carefully or they
turn into defeats. Apparently the resistance of the individual is
exhausted by the struggle, and he falls prey to the suggestion
absorbed during it, though the provocative situation is over. Often a
patient bravely resists the "occasion" itself only to yield
a day or two afterwards in a most unexpected manner. If he does not
actually give in to the temptation, he is more apt to be depressed
than elated in spite of his triumph -that is, of course, temporarily.
In the long run these moral victories are not only helpful, they are
the stepping stones to final success.
Last
year a man asked my opinion about going to a class reunion. I had
misgivings, but I thought I might as well test his resistance, so it
was suggested that of course he could go. The results were
unfortunate, but interesting. The first two days he drank nothing and
was scarcely tempted. The third day, as he expressed it, "I was
taken suddenly drunk before lunch almost without realizing that I was
doing anything wrong."
XX
What
attitude should the family take while the treatment is going on, is a
question that is invariably asked. The answer is that friends and
relatives should cooperate with the patient in his own way. If he
wants to tell of his work, then show an interest in it, but if he
keeps it to himself, then let him alone. Avoid all dramatic gestures
such as pouring away the liquor in the house. If it has been his
custom in the past, he should continue to offer drinks in moderation
to his friends as a means of keeping up his self—esteem, until it
is definitely proven that he cannot stand the temptation. The
environment should be made as helpful to the patient as is practical,
but he need not be spoiled or coddled.
Of
course disturbances in the external life that would depress or worry
the normal man have in some cases a decisive influence on the
alcoholic situation and must always be carefully considered. The
environment, however, is not stressed as much as might be expected
because many men show a surprising ability to cope with unpleasant
conditions while completing the work, and as many others seem
incapable of appreciating an admittedly satisfactory external
situation.
XXI
How
does the work proceed? As may have been gathered from what has been
said, very far from smoothly in the beginning, even with the most
intelligent and ambitious subject. It is essential to caution those
immediately concerned that the friend or relative undergoing
treatment will probably slip several times, and that the size of the
slip does not matter in point of view of time or quantity of liquor
consumed. In fact, if the patient is going to drink at all, he had
much better make a thorough job of it. Anything is preferable to a
"successful one-night stand" from which he derives the idea
that perhaps after all he can drink and get away with it, or at least
learn to drink. As long as this idea is in his head, the reeducation
is brought to a standstill. I had a patient last year who continued
to get intoxicated at least once a week for two months. This
exaggerated situation was due to the youthfulness of the subject, and
to the fact that he really did not want to stop when he first
undertook the work. But the same thing to a less degree is liable to
happen to any patient in the beginning, and it does not necessarily
mean that the case is hopeless, if the patient evidences a sincere
desire to continue the work. This discouraging prognosis must on no
account be made to the patient, as he would then be absolutely
certain to live up to what was expected of him. Everything must be
done to make him think that his recent indulgence was actually the
last one.
In
other words, the alcoholic craving is modified gradually rather than
stopped instantly. This is depressing to all concerned and
particularly to those who have no basis for comparison and thus hoped
that a complete conversion would take place on the first interview.
However, a man who is willing to make a sincere effort over a
sufficient period of time, even though he cannot be called a very
strong character, seems to develop resistance to alcoholic temptation
by eliminating his tense state of mind and permitting the dissolution
of the temptation in other interests. If, however, he is unwilling or
unable to help himself, then there is nothing that I can do for him.
So it is to the sincere and intelligent, though not necessarily
highly educated, individual that I am anxious to give my attention.
Read
before the Boston Society of Psychiatry and Neurology, April 18,
1928, and before the Harvard Psychological Clinic, December 14, 1928.
The treatment outlined in this article has been carried on by
Courtenay Baylor for seventeen years. I can never sufficiently
acknowledge my debt to him for my ability to write it. In rewriting
the paper helpful suggestions were received from Dr.G.C.Caner, Dr.
H.A. Murray, Dr. Martin W. Peck, and Dr. Morton Prince.
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