“I started to see the light at the end of the tunnel.” Alexandre has overcome his alcohol addiction and hasn’t had a drink in two years

For more than two decades, Alexandre Almeida lived “with alcohol, for alcohol.” What began as a way to socialize during his teenage years eventually turned into an addiction as he reached adulthood. His friendships, career, and family relationships were all undermined by his addiction, which ultimately led to his physical decline as well.

After going through what he still calls “hell,” he decided to seek help. First, he turned to the National Health Service—a “quick fix” that only led to more guilt and frustration. Later, he checked into an inpatient clinic, where he spent 20 months. The effort proved fruitless—two weeks after leaving, he started drinking again.

WATCH THE VIDEO OF THE INTERVIEW HERE.

He arrived at The Clinic of Change with no hope of a fulfilling life. But after his first session of ketamine-assisted psychotherapy, under the guidance of Dr. Magda Carvalho, a clinical psychologist, he began “to see the light at the end of the tunnel.” The personalized approach to treatment, as well as the in-depth work, helped him come to terms with the past, heal the present, and look to the future with new optimism. Alexandre’s life has changed, and to all those facing the same problem, he offers this advice: “It’s always worth keeping on trying.”

READ ALEXANDRE ALMEIDA'S TESTIMONIAL:

When and how does alcohol come into your life?

Alcohol came into my life very early on. Indirectly, I was already dealing with alcohol issues because of my father’s addiction. It was an experience—albeit an indirect one—that had a profound impact on me. When I was younger, around 13 or 14, my friends would drink, and I had very little tolerance for it. At the time, I didn’t even think of it as an addiction.

Around the age of 17, give or take, we started going out to nightclubs. Since I was a very introverted person, I found in alcohol a way to open up, to interact better with people. I needed that push. Although we didn’t drink much back then, we were already mixing drinks. There was already beer mixed with other drinks, Pisang Ambon with orange juice, rum and Coke. So, things were already starting to take shape there, even though I had no idea what was coming.

The worst part—when things started to go downhill—was around the age of 19. I had met my wife, and through my friends, I started living a different kind of life. It was a lifestyle of going out at night, staying up late, and going out again the next night. And alcohol gradually crept in. The breaking point came when I fell into a trap. I got married at 21, and my first job was at a hotel, as a bartender. That was the last straw. I worked alone at the bar; we always had a “cocktail of the week,” which I had to create—I had to come up with it. And because of the job, I had to taste it to make sure it was right. That went on until there came a time when I also started doing wine tastings—Port wines, red wines, white wines.

But things just happened naturally; I didn’t even think about addiction. Even though I was getting into it, I wasn’t even aware of it, because it felt natural—it was part of the job. I only really started to worry when I began taking drinks off the shelves. I didn’t need to sample them; I didn’t need to taste them. And when I started doing that, well, that’s when the alarm bells started ringing. Then, to make matters worse, we had a couple who were friends of ours, and they also worked at the hotel and finished at the same time as us. We started going to a bar all the time—practically every single day.

That’s when I started drinking, and I was already downing huge amounts; I’d come home completely out of it. My behavior was also much more… How should I put it? There was already that effect of the alcohol, which was… I’d be in a state of euphoria, and then suddenly, I’d come crashing down. And then my aggression would take over. Thank God, I was never physically aggressive, but I was psychologically. I was like that for a long time. And that’s really when my big downward spiral began—what I call hell. It was exactly at that time.

SAPO NEWS: “They told me I was a lost cause, and I convinced myself I was going to die.”

Has this addiction started to have an impact? On your work, your friendships, and the people around you?

Yes, there were plenty. In my personal relationships, outside of my family, I started hanging out with people who kept me company—that is, who were part of my life. I couldn’t get along with other people because they didn’t do the same things I did, weren’t interested in the same things I was, and didn’t want to drink.

I ended up distancing myself from those people—people who, as I now fully realize, were truly my friends. They tried for a long time to pull me away. But they got tired of it and distanced themselves from me. I also behaved inappropriately, because I would borrow money so I wouldn’t have to ask my wife, so she wouldn’t find out. However, I didn’t pay them back, and then they would tell my wife, and that was also one of the things that began to contribute to the breakdown of our family life. Professionally, of course it had an impact, because I wasn’t as productive at work. If I was drunk, obviously I didn’t react the same way. I’d pretend I was just being playful, but of course, over time, people started to notice—the breath, the behavior, the odd behavior at the bar too. At one point, I was asked to leave.

But it didn’t teach me a lesson, because later on I kept working in bars and hotels. At first, everything was always fine; I was behaving myself. Little by little, I started slipping back into it—in other words, I was caught up in this vicious cycle for many, many years. I also started missing a lot of work because I didn’t have money for drinks, I didn’t feel like leaving the house, so I’d just wander around town, and of course that also had a huge financial impact on my family life.

Because when you already have a child, rent to pay, bills to pay, and one less paycheck coming in, of course the person I’m with—my wife—won’t put up with it. We argue constantly; I storm out of the house and then go drinking, which was my way of coping. Then I’d spend the day away from home, and since I had strong suicidal tendencies, it was yet another worry for my wife. I’ve been very lucky in life with the person I married, because she was someone who never stopped fighting for me, even though she was on the verge of giving up—especially since we had a son at home, who was three years old at the time.

When my oldest son was born, there was a time when I cut back a little on that drinking lifestyle, because I’d always wanted to have a child. So I tried to behave myself, but it didn’t last long—maybe a year and a half at most. And my son, as young as he was, started to notice that his dad was always arguing, that he was sleeping, that he left the house, that his mom was worried at home, crying. Six years later, my twin sons were born. I went back to playing the role of the well-behaved father, the father who paid attention to his children. And I really did. I was the one who took them to school, I was the one who took them to the doctor, I was the one who went for walks with them in the afternoon. But then there was always something missing. No matter how much time I spent with my children, there was always something that…

I was so used to that euphoria from alcohol; when I drank, it set me free, but there I was, holding myself back—I was there with my kids and it felt like I couldn’t break free from it. And then I went back to the same old routine. During that period of sobriety, my oldest son started to get closer to me, but then when the same thing happened with his brothers, he pulled away completely. And the same thing happened with the younger ones, about three years ago. They completely distanced themselves from me; they wouldn’t talk to me, they ignored me at home, and at the time I felt angry—I felt angry about it because I thought I was the one who was the poor soul. Deep down, I was suffering too, but they were also suffering because of my actions. And that really took a toll on my family life for a long time.

At what point do you realize that you have a problem and need help to deal with it?

It was already too late. My wife has always been my conscience, because she was always pushing me. At the time, I used to say she was always nagging me. She kept insisting, and often I’d go just to please her, just to say I’d go, to say I’d make an effort. Deep down, I wasn’t making any effort at all; I was just going along with it to try to shut my wife up, so she wouldn’t bother me.

After a while, I started having blackouts, lost track of time, couldn’t remember what had happened two days earlier, and was constantly shaking. At that point, I really started to worry about myself a little. I hadn’t stopped drinking, but I decided to give it a try. I was referred to the National Health Service; I realized I really had to seek help on my own. But without changing my behavior, it wouldn’t do much good, by the way.

Did you seek help elsewhere before coming to The Clinic of Change?

Many paths, so many paths. I started out in the National Health Service. Unfortunately, when it comes to mental health, our country remains very closed-minded. People are still ashamed to say they’ve seen a psychiatrist or a psychologist, that they’re undergoing treatment, or that they’re being treated for depression. People are very afraid to say that; they’re afraid of being judged, of people thinking they’re incapable. But the National Health Service, now that I think about it, was like trying to stop a hemorrhage with a Band-Aid. It’s all based on medication. It’s about putting the person to sleep, not treating the problem at its root.

All our problems—whether they’re related to alcohol or anything else—always have a root cause; they start somewhere. And I, not drinking, as I said, was very introverted. We also had group sessions, but it wasn’t a place where I felt comfortable. I would drop out of treatment, then come back after a year or two. What they did was change the medication to see if that one would work. But the years went by and there were no results, until I heard my psychiatrist say: “Alexandre, I’m sorry, I don’t know what else we can do for you.” In other words, she implied I was a lost cause. That was a huge blow, a really huge one.

“But the National Health Service, now that I think about it, was like trying to stop a bleeding with a Band-Aid. It’s all about medication. It’s about putting the person to sleep, not treating the root of the problem.”

I lost hope when I heard a psychiatrist who had been treating me for 18 or 20 years tell me that. I realized something wasn’t right with me; not even the psychiatrist could help me, so I thought: I’m a lost cause. My wife, at the time, sensed this and was outraged. She didn’t give up. I went to a private clinic in Santarém for the 12-step program, which is a treatment that usually lasts about six months. I was there for 20 months and 20 days.

The program is a series of logical steps involving behaviors that a person needs to gradually change. But every case is different, and things have to be adapted accordingly. This brings us back to the root of the problem. I spent a long time writing papers and sharing them in the group. Looking back objectively, I see that many of them had nothing to do with me. I wrote everything I was supposed to, everything I felt, everything I had experienced, but nothing matched what I actually had—the root of my problem—nothing. So, I’d start to feel better, everything would be fine. But that’s the thing—then I’d slip back again, start feeling down, start not paying attention to anything, not doing anything. And this cycle ended up lasting more than 20 months. And the proof that it didn’t work was that I left the clinic and, 15 days later, started drinking again. And I started drinking a lot again. I confess that, at that point, I thought about what the psychiatrist from the National Health Service had said. I came to the conclusion that I really was a lost cause. And along the way, there were still suicide attempts and psychiatric hospitalizations. It was absolute hell.

Where is The Clinic of Change located?

It was a little later. I think about three years had passed. But I wasn’t even the one who sought it out; I was defeated. I didn’t feel like looking for anything. All I could think about was drinking until I died, period. But my wife, once again, didn’t give up. She searched the internet and found this treatment, which was quite innovative—something practically unheard of in Portugal, and not even available through the National Health System. She suggested it to me, and I thought: spending money on this isn’t worth it. But then I ended up giving in to her and came here.

When I arrived here, I felt a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Dr. Magda spoke very calmly, very deliberately, and very warmly. I felt that same euphoria I used to get from alcohol, and I was eager to get started. We scheduled the consultation and the first treatment for the following week. But as the week went on, the thoughts running through my head were: I’m going to be wasting money; this isn’t going to amount to anything. That euphoria gave way to depression again. By the time I actually started the treatment, I wasn’t even convinced it would work. Of course, I never said this out loud to my wife, but I had no hope.

I didn't believe he could overcome this addiction.

Yes, that disbelief too… I was aware that I had a very serious alcohol addiction. I was fully aware of that. But if you add to that someone telling you there’s nothing left to be done, and then 20 months of treatment at a private clinic… It was a long time, with many ups and downs. The people there genuinely cared about me; I know that. But every case is different, every person is different; everyone has their own experiences, their own ways of reacting. Problems stem from different sources for each person. And since I hadn’t succeeded in one place or another, I thought it wasn’t worth it, that I wouldn’t be able to do it.

And was that your main concern about the possibility of starting a new treatment? The fact that it might be in vain?

Absolutely. When we’re in the National Health Service, we know how things work. We know how slow the procedures are, how impersonal it all is. At the clinic in Santarém, there was a bit of that personal touch, but not enough to get to the root of the problems. Dr. Magda explained to me how it worked. That euphoria grew—finally something different. But that belief gradually faded. Our minds always tend to focus on the negative, not the positive. Since I already had a tendency toward depression, the temptation was much greater at the time. Thank God, I don’t have that problem now.

Even so, she went ahead with the treatment at The Clinic of Change. How would you describe that experience?

I have to admit that the first session was… pretty mind-blowing. When they gave me the ketamine, I didn’t feel a thing. I thought I’d feel it right away. Meanwhile, Dr. Magda sat down next to me, speaking to me in that soft voice of hers. She asked me if I was comfortable, and if I wasn’t. Meanwhile, my eyes were covered. After a while, I found myself as if I were in a futuristic world. I’ve always loved science fiction and computers, and I think my mind drew on that part of me. And that day we talked about the past, something I’ve always hated. I couldn’t do it; it brought me too much pain. The violence our father inflicted on us, physically and psychologically, my mother’s suffering. My mother also had several suicide attempts. And I was very, very afraid of entering that world.

“I didn’t feel like looking for anything. All I wanted to do was drink myself to death—period. But my wife, once again, didn’t give up. She searched the internet and found this treatment, which was quite innovative.”

A lot of things started coming at me all at once; I couldn’t get my thoughts in order. It felt like I was lost between that mind-blowing journey and the thoughts that kept popping into my head. It wasn’t until quite a while later that Dr. Magda explained it to me. In the end, it didn’t cause me any suffering or discomfort. Things are still here; nothing I’ve experienced in my life has disappeared. It’s impossible for it to disappear—it’s part of me. It’s part of my character. But things started to fall into place. They started to get sorted out.

And I realized that amid all the unhappiness I had experienced as a child and teenager, there were also many good moments. I remembered playing with my siblings and friends, playing ball games, and building forts. Of the people who knew about our suffering and who helped us a lot. The only thing that came to mind before I started treatment were the negative aspects. Being able to find those positive things there was great. Because I realized that my life hadn’t been as straightforward, as bad as I thought.

The second session was about the present. The recent past. The issue of my children, my behavior toward my wife, and my spending habits came up a lot. All the times my wife cried. All the times my children cried and clung to me, begging me not to leave the house. Those were very difficult times. But I was also able to reflect on the good things I did. The time I spent with my children, when I was sober, when I was there for them. The fact that I gave up working to be with my children. My wife had a permanent job; I was on a contract. So, I gave up working to be with my children. There were things I did right, but it’s human nature—we remember the negative things more than the positive ones. I’ve always had a strong tendency in that direction.

The third session was about my plans for the future. The first thing that came to mind was my desire to become a grandfather. My oldest son is already married, and I don’t know if this isn’t a way to make up for what I didn’t give my children. And the second thing I thought about was being able to live a full life, to experience both the good and the bad. Not to be ashamed of living. Not to be ashamed of laughing. Not to be ashamed of not drinking so I can connect with others. To be able to rebuild my friendships. And I did it. I managed it little by little. It took time. It was many years of deceiving people, many years of seeing the suffering I had caused my family. All the destruction that was right there around me. People no longer believed in me, which was perfectly natural. It was a good fight—rebuilding friendships, rebuilding my family, rebuilding my own well-being, feeling good about myself. 

What would you say are the main differences between this treatment and the ones you’ve tried before?

This treatment focuses on the person—on Alexandre. There, the goal is to find out what Alexandre thinks, what Alexandre wants, what Alexandre did, and what Alexandre didn’t do. We’re not talking about Pedro, who’s in the next room; we’re talking about Alexandre. And we’re trying to figure out where it all started. I think that was the most important thing. Undergoing treatment where they give you medication to put you to sleep doesn’t solve anything. I only saw suffering; I couldn’t find anything else. There, I was able to, seeing that the treatment was focusing on me. I was also able to find good things, even in the midst of hell. I began to understand where the problems started, and that was very good. It was the first big victory.

Looking back, what role do you think this treatment played in your recovery?

It was absolutely crucial. After the first session, I started to believe in myself. It was a feeling I hadn’t had in a long time. I began to see what we usually call the light at the end of the tunnel. Right then, after the first session, I felt like I was heading in the right direction. There was already something inside me that wanted to change. I myself was starting to feel the urge to break out of that rut.

Were there any other changes during the process?

After the first session, I already felt a great sense of relief. But my story isn’t just about the past. There’s also the present—whether recent or a little further back. That also contributed to making the problem worse. It was all a snowball effect. It was action and reaction. In other words, I’d do things badly, make mistakes, and then go out drinking to forget about it all. Then I’d end up doing even worse things. When I had the second session, I realized that, since I couldn’t find the root of my problems on my own, I kept running into the same situations, I kept doing exactly the same things. Becoming aware of that helped a lot in finding a little peace with myself.

“All I saw was suffering; I couldn’t find anything else. But there, realizing that the treatment was focused on me, I was also able to find some positive things. I began to understand where the problems had started, and that was really good. It was the first big victory.”

Because I couldn’t function day to day. My daily life was suffering; I was numbed by alcohol. In other words, I didn’t feel anything—absolutely nothing. And it was my wife who, while talking to me, noticed that I was already feeling a bit of lightness, a sense of relief in my chest. We weren’t so trapped anymore.

What benefits have these two years without alcohol brought you?

Rebuilding—starting to rebuild—my personal relationships. Professionally, I’ve taken on more responsibility. I no longer feel that need to go out drinking. Behavior breeds behavior, and if our behaviors start to change—becoming more level-headed, more positive—the other person senses it too, and the relationship tends to grow closer. That happened first with my wife.

“And these days, I go to work feeling lighthearted. I don’t worry about how I’ll get there, and I don’t worry about what people might think of me. I’m not afraid to approach my coworkers because I have alcohol on my breath or because I’m drunk. It’s a tremendous sense of freedom.”

It was much harder with my kids. I’m still working on it today—I do a little bit every day—but I feel like there’s now a family bond there that I’d forgotten what it was like. I lived with alcohol, for alcohol. And everyone else around me pretended to be concerned, when the only thing I was concerned about was my drinking. But I gained a lot—I really gained a lot, a lot, a lot. Especially in my family life. Because, deep down, I was doing what my father did. Aside from the physical aspect, I was doing exactly the same thing he did.

Did the treatment also give you tools to use in your daily life, even after the sessions?

Yes, even outside of sessions. Dr. Magda still calls me today to see how I’m doing. With ketamine, Dr. Magda helped me sort things out. And that was a great tool, because I don’t have to deal with that chaos in my mind, with my thoughts. That gives me peace of mind and helps me get organized. I don’t have all that weight on me; I can let go. That was one of the first major tools. The second tool is not being afraid to make mistakes. Making mistakes is part of being human. It’s how we react to mistakes that doesn’t have to be so… We don’t have to let ourselves get so down about it. It’s about talking to someone, speaking with someone. And that was something I didn’t do. If I had a problem, I wouldn’t talk to anyone, which is why I had so many suicide attempts. Nowadays, instead of keeping things to myself, I’ve learned not to be afraid and to share them. Before, I couldn’t sleep, I was tired, irritable. Nowadays, I can sleep well.

Would you say you look at the future differently today?

Absolutely. When I used to go to work, back when I was drinking, I always felt guilty. And I was always afraid of getting caught, of someone walking in and noticing I was drunk. But these days, I go to work feeling light. I’m not worried about how I’ll get there, I’m not worried about what people might think of me. I’m not afraid to approach my coworkers because I have alcohol on my breath or because I’m drunk. It’s a tremendous sense of freedom. The fact that we don’t feel trapped there, with that weight on our conscience. That really is a tremendous sense of freedom.

And what message do you have for others who are going through what you went through?

I think it depends on each person. Unfortunately, there are many people in Portugal who continue to suffer greatly from this problem—whether it’s alcohol or drug addiction. It’s always worth keeping on trying, no matter how much they try to bring us down. I look at myself, after going through this whole process. I could have just given up and let myself go. But after going through this treatment, it’s worth the investment; it’s worth keeping on trying—always, always, always. Because the reward we get in the end is huge. We free ourselves, we have a full life, we have everything to gain. It doesn’t matter if I try six, seven, eight, or ten times—it doesn’t matter. Keep going, keep trying. That’s also part of growing up. We get a lot back, we gain a lot. And we keep gaining every day.

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