(ed:..i have an anecdote relating to this – many years ago i lived in an urban commune in sydney – a person living there was a former alcoholic (who was also a deserter from the australian airforce) – and he credited lsd with curing him from his alcohol addiction.
now this urban commune was in an inner-city slum – with lots of alcoholics/’derros’ inhabiting the streets/back-alleys..
and this former alcoholic took it upon himself to attempt to ‘cure’ some of these people.so you would arrive home to find (lets call him ‘john’) in the house..tripping..and with a tripping (often very smelly) derelict street alcoholic (or two) in tow..
it was all part of the rich tapestry of life then..but strongly hints at what are now scientific-findings..
john was clearly a pioneer of his day – and if he is still alive/around – i wish him well..his motives were pure..)
We’ve learned in recent years that people who use psychedelics are significantly *less* likely to end up developing mental health problems – perpetrating domestic violence or suffering from psychological distress and suicidal thinking.
Meanwhile recent research has shown that psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy can be an effective treatment for people struggling with difficult-to-treat conditions such as substance use disorders.
Not much has been known though about the connection between psychedelic use and substance misuse in the general population.
France is ground zero for clinical research on Baclofen – a drug said to eliminate alcohol cravings.
The medication will soon be more accessible than ever – but not everyone thinks that’s a good thing.
Olivier Ameisen – a noted French cardiologist – also knew a thing or two about alcohol.Ameisen was from the outside a wildly successful man.
He had a private practice in Manhattan – had been awarded the Légion d’Honneur for his work and to top it all was a brilliant pianist.
But the physician was also helplessly addicted to alcohol and regularly hospitalized after binges.
Like Blaise – every single treatment had failed him.
With nothing left to lose he decided to turn himself into a guinea pig – reasoning that it was ‘more dignified to die during my own clinical experiment than it was to die of alcoholism’.
In 2004 he started taking small and then increasing doses of the drug.
He was astonished when a few weeks in his cravings disappeared.
He simply had no desire for a glass of wine any more.
My dad was an alcoholic – and what every child of someone with this disease learns is that we can’t change things for our parents. But we can for our children.
He was an extraordinary bloke.
The son of Irish immigrants he battered his way from Shepherd’s Bush into grammar school and then to university – the first person in his family to go.
At Durham in the late 60s he met my mum and like two star-crossed lovers they campaigned – against apartheid – dreamed – planned a family and both graduated to give their lives to public service.
My dad was fascinated by Clement Atlee’s new towns.
He became a planner and that’s why I grew up in Harlow – where Dad rose to become the council manager.
But for most of his life my dad was trapped in a deepening addiction to alcohol.
And when he lost my mum at the age of 52 to pancreatic cancer it knocked him over the edge.