Baclofen Part 4. Olivier Ameisen - Boris Johnson - David Nutt - Cocaine - Arrested

 

Today is my eighty eighth alcohol free day. In my larder sits the last bottle of San Miguel, from 31st August, the one I didn’t drink.  Alongside it is an unopened bottle of Champagne, two bottles of Soave and a quarter bottle of Old Pultenay, Sheila’s favourite single malt. If visitors were allowed I would still have something to offer them. Their presence, on the shelf, is of no concern; there is no desire to consume them, nor is willpower needed once your reach your 'sweet spot', as it's known in baclofen medical speak. First some background ..

On 25^th March 2020, just as the first lockdown closed the planet, I sent a video message and email to Boris Johnson, our Prime Minister. I copied in the BBC, every national newspaper, and my MP. It read..

Dear Prime Minister

My video message below [Copy link at the end] comes from over fifty years of experiencing the effects of alcohol first hand.  My proposal is not a solution but it will substantially help alleviate the mental health problem about to descend upon not just the UK but all alcohol fuelled nations. An Alcohol fuelled bloodbath is about to engulf many relationships. Domestic violence, sexual violence, divorce and sadly, men in their thousands committing suicide. Making Baclofen readily available will save the NHS billions, save our Police from having to sort the bloodbath. Save our Ambulance service from picking up the pieces of the bloodbath.  It may also save many men and woman from taking their own lives. I will also be a start to putting right the social injustice of Gordon Browns Government when they sacked Professor David Nut for warning them about the alcohol bloodbath that would descend if the government stuck to its profit driven drug policy. An apology to David Nut would be a start.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

I did get an acknowledgement but, to-date, no reply. I also pursued the matter with my local MP who, to his credit, did engage before following the corporate line.

A bit more background, in case you missed my earlier posts:

Baclofen has been around for over forty years as a muscle relaxant (multiple sclerosis, spinal injuries etc) so has a safe and known track record. It was only discovered (Dr Olivier Ameisen) as the missing link in alcohol cravings in 2005. He expected exponential growth in its use, when this didn’t happen, he published; The End of My Addiction [2008], providing a diary of his journey into sobriety. This created a huge demand that was never met by supply. At the time of writing his book only one GP, Dr Renaud de Beaurepaire was willing to prescribe it “off label” (not the use for which it is licenced) to patients. ‘He was a psychiatrist working in the public sector in the hospital group Paul-Guiraud in Villejuif, on the outskirts of Paris. He met Olivier Ameisen in 2006, after Ameisen published a small article in the scientific press describing his experience treating himself with Baclofen. Dr de Beaurepaire was impressed by the Ameisen story and decided to try treating with Baclofen if suitable cases presented in his practice. He found these in two patients with both severe depression and alcoholism who he treated in 2006-7. Both patients rapidly became indifferent to alcohol, just as Ameisen had described’.  [Vérités et Mensonges sur le baclofène by Dr Renaud de Beaurepaire] By 2019 there were 10,000 GP’s, in France, prescribing Baclofen with over 100,000 users. In the UK I am not aware of a single GP willing to prescribe it. My supply comes via Harley Street on a private prescription.

The use of baclofen has grown throughout the world, with doctors, therapists and health professionals beginning to speak openly about the benefits. It is legal to buy without prescription in Spain, Canada and South Africa. The first country to ban alcohol in lockdown was South Africa. Three clicks, a card and a phone call is all it takes online.

Lets now look at the world in Movember 2020. Our basic freedom of expression and movement has been curtailed. What does a Man make of this, how does he cope? His role, his status, his very being is under threat. As I said in part 2, when describing Maslows Heirrachy of needs. Life is a game of snakes and ladders and in times of adversity the only way is down the slippery snake to safety and security. Our survival needs take over but not without being engulfed by fear and anxiety.

Now transpose that into a world of chronically anxious men locked in their survival chakras with no end to the tunnel, let alone a light. Alcohol becomes that light or prop, so it’s easy to see how we fall into the trap of using it to soothe our anxiety. Alcohol starts by helping to reduce the anxiety, I have used it lovingly for over fifty years, but if used too often, which I did, especially if daily, which I did, the user needs to increase the amount of alcohol over time to get the same relaxing effect. My wife Sheila, died in February this year. After her death, I remained sober for three days, on day four; Dorset police arrived at my door, arrested me, ask me to sit in the back of a police car, one hour drive to Weymouth and put me in a cell for ten hours. I was charged with upsetting my former wife, and children, for writing my blogs, of which this is one. I was released from my Weymouth Police cell and left in their ‘departure lounge’ at 2330; with a bin liner containing my computer, phone, wedding ring, wallet and shoe laces. A scrap of paper with two taxi numbers was reluctantly provided.   Fortunately, my phone had some life so dialled the first number. ‘Weymouth Cab’s, Stacie here, how can I help’, came the reply. ‘Um, I seem to have been arrested, but now I am free and would like a cab to take me to Sherborne please’, I responded. ‘It will be £60 and cash only’, I heard. As I was cashless, we diverted by a late night petrol station, with a cash machine. Cash and eight cans of Stella Artois later we are back on track. Its now 0100 and home. Oh dear, my keys are indoors and the doors are locked. I smash a window, only cut myself a bit, climbing through and then…

I stayed awake all night, consuming seven, large, cans of Stella in the process. I drank for six more days. On day seven, I took three baclofen at 1500 and three more at 1800 hours. I consumed no alcohol for the following seven weeks until Sheila’s funeral had taken place. Afterwards I sipped champagne and had two cans of larger. I continued social drinking throughout May, whist being aware two pints had become four for the same effect. Throughout June I consumed no alcohol. At the end of the month I ended up in an argument with a lady over a radio station. There are certain types of woman who always seem to press my buttons, the wrong ones. Solution four pints of Stella. I continued drinking larger throughout July and August. At least one day off each week but two pints, three, four and on one occasion (a link to the story at the end) seven pints whilst cycling, and dancing, along the River Thames towpath in Richmond, London. The summer being almost over I decided to ‘get my shit together’ and take a 100 day break from alcohol. Easier said than done?

Like many alcohol dependant folks, I keep partial control over my alcohol for well over thirty years, drinking only after work, once the kids have gone to bed, weekends, holidays and social events. However, it didn’t take much to cross the line. By my late 40’s, drinking still controlled, but heavy. Crap (not crack silly) Cocaine, blocking my sinuses for two years took me so close to the edge …   I took up long distance sailing, six-week trips, and always ran a dry (alcohol and drug free) boat. It was easy … until I stepped ashore and... returned to a wife, a nineteen year old son (trying to get one A level - 3rd go), Lamberts Surveyors with thirty staff, plus (I still shudder at the memory) an invoice, professional indemnity insurance, for £186,000 needing to be paid in full, four weeks later. In other words, the desire to drink hit me like a brick in the face. A good, earlier, example, Tuesday 15^th September 1992, Lamberts Chartered Surveyors, five years old, over geared – interest rates 10%, eight staff, but surviving. End of a long stressful day, Margaret, my PA, says, ‘Colin, you had better look at the news, interest rates have just been raised to 15%, its not good. Margaret managed our accounts and cash flow, I managed a forty-thousand-pound overdraft at four % points above base rate, I also knew we were about to go under. I needed a drink! Trattoria Aqualino, was lovely Italian restaurant in Camden Passage, opposite Islington High Street, where my wife and I consumed two litres of red wine and perhaps some pasta. My hangover cleared, instantly, the next day as the UK left the Exchange Rate Mechanism (fixing our Pound to the Euro) and interest rates returned to ten percent. Phew, that was close.

Fast forward to November 2020 and the entire universe could be forgiven for saying, ‘hand me a large Scotch, a very large one’. Add uncertainty, the loss of a job, a relationship breakup, a death in the family, lockdown and ..

Life becomes more frightening and alcohol makes it more bearable. As this happens, the dependence sets in. Any attempt to reduce or stop the alcohol now produces unpleasant withdrawal symptoms. These are the symptoms of anxiety – sweating, tremors, palpitations which alcohol will rapidly fix.

One would imagine a, cheap as chips, drug that removed the cravings for alcohol would become an instant best seller?

My video, below, to the prime minister explains why this is not the case.

Today, is day 90 of being alcohol free, I will be back in ten days.

My video message to Boris Johnson

Anxiety - Depression -Crash. My seven pints ball of fun.