Success Stories: Victoria Program Real Reviews
Real-life stories of people who have overcome their problems with us
The Victoria Program offers innovative solutions to overcome addictions.
With real success stories, 'Programa Victoria' stands out as a reliable resource. Discover how you can change your life and become part of these transformative stories.
Trust in the 'Victory Program' and achieve the freedom you deserve.
German
She participated in the Victoria Program in 2007
Dioni
Clean and sober since 1992
Igor
In the Program since 2024
Testimonies included in the book
Goal: Freedom
The Last Carriage
I envy you, fortunate reader of this book.
If I had been lucky enough to have it in my hands years ago, there would have been less pain in the pages of my life.
I imagine you suffer from the same illness as me—addiction—and not just a curious person wanting to know the latest research in the field of drug dependency. If so, this text could be the key that changes your life and, like me, saves you.
Illnesses don't care about the background of those who suffer from them, so the leading authority in cardiology can die of a heart attack. I myself have had to study the psychology of human behavior and behavior modification techniques for many hours, and they haven't helped me at all when it comes to confronting my own alcoholism. But perhaps that cold, hard knowledge, along with my experience of having been in clinics supposedly specializing in the care of patients suffering from this disease several times, allows me to fully appreciate the momentous advance represented by the work of Bernardo Ruiz and his team: the Victoria Program.
For the first time, thanks to him, I have seen the light at the end of a tunnel of darkness that I thought had no way out.
Very little is known about the human brain, that great unknown. Barely ten percent. And undoubtedly, this lack of scientific support is one of the reasons why therapies used to overcome this strange disease fail.
But I can assure you, dear reader, that if you have tried to cure yourself time and again without success, now you have a great opportunity to escape the labyrinth. My personal experience of having managed to restrain addiction—restrain it, not kill it, since it will accompany you until the last day of your life—is neither unique nor exceptional among those of us who have followed his therapy.
Professor Ruiz's approach to addiction is absolutely original and innovative. And in a high percentage of cases, his pragmatic solutions have served to break the chains that oppress our freedom.
I urge you with all the warmth I can muster not to limit yourself to reading the pages of this book. If you want to regain control of your destiny, attend one of his courses. You will then see that you can, like me and so many others, put an end to your torment.
I write these lines to you like a man throwing a life preserver to someone he sees drowning. Seize this opportunity. Perhaps it is the last car of a train that is leaving with no return. Don't hesitate, embrace it with faith and remember that if others have succeeded thanks to the theories and techniques of the Victoria Program, you can too.
You undoubtedly still have years of life ahead of you. It's up to you to live them fully and freely.
I, too, have often been on the verge of giving up, desperate, until luck, or Providence, led me to meet the author of this work, a landmark in rigorous research backed by success.
I won't tell you "my story." However unfortunate your experiences may have been, I don't think they surpass mine. I know I'm not cured. Alcoholism never disappears, but it is possible to eliminate all its symptoms, which is what ultimately matters.
Immerse yourself in the clear waters of reading "Objective: Freedom" and participate in one of its seminars. A new, radiant sun will illuminate your path from then on. Good luck, my friend! And thank you, Bernardo, and I haven't forgotten your constant support, María Eugenia, for freeing me.
IOX
Patient of the Victoria Program in 2002
Testimonies included in the book
Goal: Freedom
My Experience in the Victoria Program - María José
It was difficult to admit I was an alcoholic, but it was even worse to admit that I couldn't get out of that state on my own. I suppose I thought I was stronger than I actually was, and although I tried, I only managed to despair and drink even more.
I was lucky to have the persistence of my children and, although it's sad to say, the death of my dog from liver cancer, which made me see clearly what could happen if I didn't hurry to find a solution.
My eldest daughter started searching online for alcoholism treatment programs and found one called Victoria, which was held in Marbella. I wasn't very sure what I wanted, but the doctor, the psychologist, and my children tried to convince me that I had to do it. The decision had to be mine, and thank God, I made it, and there are few things I'm happier about.
In just 10 days, I achieved something I thought I could never do in my entire life.
Arriving at the hotel was truly overwhelming, filled with anguish, loneliness, and even fear of the unknown. But that feeling didn't last long. The next day I felt much better, and with each passing day I improved, and in the end, I was very sad to have to leave. I realized what a privilege it was to go and get treatment in a place like that, which was the complete opposite of the clinics you've always seen. Living with normal people who are on vacation, and apart from the therapy sessions, the movies, and the documentaries, you feel like you're on vacation too, without any kind of harassment or anxiety. There's also a form of withdrawal therapy that's frankly unpleasant, but it's so effective that you quickly forget the bad experience and only think about the consequences, which are very positive.
I left feeling renewed and believing that everything was behind me. But I went back to hell, and everything fell apart within a month. I started drinking again, and in large quantities, until I finally extinguished that hell, and then I decided to repeat the program, this time free from other obstacles.
What a fantastic decision! Now I know—not that I believe it—that I'll never drink again. The level of camaraderie, the complicity, and the natural, uninhibited way you talk about anything with people you've just met is incredible. It feels like you've known them your whole life. I've already had two and a half experiences (I went back for a weekend six months later, more for pleasure than necessity), and I'm even more convinced that it's the best thing I've ever done. My liver is perfect, my health is great, I never get tired, and my spirits are sky-high. It's fantastic to have a good time and, on top of that, resolve the problems you've been carrying around for so long.
I suppose I'll go back, as if I were going on a real vacation.
María José.
Patient of the Victoria Program in May 2007
Testimonies included in the book
Goal: Freedom
I Am Free
Since I'm the clumsiest guy in the world when it comes to writing, I'm going to start the story from the end. There are very few things in my life that I consider to have been almost perfect, and one of them was entering the Victoria Program, to which I owe so many good things that every day of the year I thank God and a partner who straightened me out. I'm one of those people who is very clear that if I had continued with the life I had before the program, I would be ruined, almost dead from health problems or an accident, and abandoned by my whole family—in short, a complete wreck.
This damn vice starts when you're young, at first to show off, then to lose a little shame and have a laugh, and later, to socialize. Then it becomes a nightmare for those of us who have no limits.
I even thought I had to change cities, jobs, and friends because they were leading me astray. I've even drunk two bottles of whiskey in one day, and most people would say, "What an animal! That can't be!" Well, I've done it countless times between 3 PM and 6 AM, always with the excuse that I'm getting dragged into it. It's all just cheap lies. At 3 AM, you knock out your friends and keep going on alone until you collapse. At 1 PM, you wake up feeling like a wreck, telling yourself you're worthless, you can't remember half the things you did the night before, broke as a church mouse, not a single euro, and swearing you'll never do it again.
I have a coffee, two Alka-Seltzers, and at 2 PM I meet up with a friend who orders a cold beer, and I say, "Give me two." Ten minutes later, I say, "Give me two chamomile teas," and by 4 PM, I have a whiskey in my hand, and it's the same old story all over again.
This has happened to me hundreds of times. The best advice I can give you is not to drink alcohol, although in the country we live in, that's very difficult. But the first time in your life you drink and can't stop until you pass out, have the courage to admit: I'm an alcoholic. Call the program and don't let it go like I did. I spent 15 years messed up, wasting time and hurting myself and my loved ones.
I go to see my magician couple quite often, because if they fixed me, they must have some magic in them, because I'm very stubborn and have a lot of guts, to put it bluntly. I guarantee they'll match you up too. If you only knew how much the main character in the movie changes when he gets out of those ten days at the hotel and says: new life!
I'm one of the happiest people on earth, because human beings are pretty stupid in general. We have to go through something really bad to appreciate the good things. And today, ninety-nine percent of the things that happen in my life just roll off my back. Seeing that I am now in control of my actions is priceless and cannot be bought in any store. I am free.
Juan
He participated in the Victoria Program in March 2003
Testimonies included in the book
Goal: Freedom
Chronicle of Nothingness Shattered
I remember March 3, 2003, as a pivotal date in my life: my entry into the Victoria Program at the Detox Institute. Approximately 28 years had passed since I had my first drinks, and day by day, week by week, month after month, and year after year, I became an alcoholic. Along the way, there was the death of my mother, emotional deprivation, loneliness, divorce, children… a university degree, a doctorate, competitive exams, books, articles, exhibitions and conferences, a position, and lots and lots of alcohol.
Broadly speaking, alcohol and all those fermented fruits and grains that alter perception are part of a vast pharmacopoeia that humankind has used, since the dawn of society, to celebrate joys or soothe anxieties. At least, that's what the vestiges of daily life housed in museums around the world record. Glasses of all shapes and sizes, bottles, and stills testify that for thousands of years humanity has gotten drunk on whatever it can find. This normality gave me intellectual license not to remain on the sidelines of humanity.
I gradually fell in love with a bottle that concealed nothing but cruelty, indirectly biting and spitting its poison inside you, leaving you badly wounded and beaten down. Stripped of any shell against nature and utterly vulnerable. Then I realized that this cruelty, alcohol, had no form in itself. I was wrong to blame a glass or a bottle when the only culprit of my self-destruction could be, by its very definition, none other than myself.
Seeing myself already ill, and the worst part of all, even having acknowledged it, it was utterly impossible for me to leave her, since my life's equilibrium depended on her as much as she depended on me, and, reciprocally, we were heading towards death, towards the slow capitulation of a miserable and agonizing existence, though sometimes with small flashes of lucidity. I was allowing my heart to rot as well, so that I could tear it out and place it in an invisible place whose name I would never remember.
When I entered the hotel, I was drunk, impertinent, and distrustful. With my intellectual weapons, I thought, I was going to dismantle the Program because in ten days it was absolutely impossible for me to recover, and, afterward, even less so, to reintegrate normally into "life" without calling the waiter for more drinks. I smiled at myself, albeit painfully, and thought that both the one who chooses heads and the one who chooses tails are wrong.
I soon discovered that both were wrong. The true path lay in not gambling: that is, never drinking again. And once embarked, I had to adhere to the Program's principles, always keeping a wary eye on it, but, if only out of politeness, I had to respect its philosophy, its ideology, its classes, and of course, its teachers. However, I truly felt unhappy, and on the second day, I began to suspect something was amiss. My neurons were hesitating because the atmosphere, the adventures and misadventures of my group members, the heightened sensitivity, the large doses of sincerity, and again, the pervasive unhappiness, were awakening in me a strange glow that I sensed as a kind of visit. There was much work ahead, and I decided to remove my makeup. I would definitely cross the street without stopping at the bar, a poor remedy for sadness.
I soon discovered that providing the most efficient therapeutic care possible was one of the top priorities of the team of professionals attending to us, and this quality offered a promising outlook for the future of the Victoria Program. Bernardo Ruiz, the director, was gentle, with a calm but firm voice—his great experience was palpable. He led each session with increasing poise, and although at first I saw him almost as the target to be defeated—seemingly cold—he ended up being the main protagonist in my liberation from alcohol.
María Eugenia, the other therapist, was all heart, his complement. She radiated tenderness, and her informal classes were refreshing. I would even say essential. Her conversations were sincere and warm; she was the counterpoint to the certain coldness that the Program Director initially conveyed. A committed and sweet woman. Fernando, the doctor, discreet and very professional, was the cause of the unpleasant aftertaste, the lingering effects of alcohol. The man who made us look in the mirror with the scents of different alcoholic beverages, which I considered sweet jams and delights for the soul, were nothing more than a cudgel. The three of them got to me, amazed me, and it would be fair to say they bewitched me. And the best part is, for the rest of my life.
The Victoria Program wasn't a simulation of independence; it was a victory over deep wounds, over my irremediable unease, delusions, and wanderings—the victorious drama of my suffering. Alcohol only served to numb the pain of memories and bad experiences. Intoxication kept me between sleep and reality. It's the paradigm of the drinker destroyed by being a man and the man destroyed by being a drinker.
In the Victoria Program, I woke up and began to walk, expelling the melancholy, the restlessness, and the many levels of alcohol that offered no respite. I went from the slavery of alcohol to being free to choose. Because drinking or not drinking is just that: a life choice. After ten days, I left the hotel and also definitively stopped drinking to begin living. An arduous and daily battle that continues to this day. This is my chronicle of nothingness shattered into pieces. My name is Francisco Lázaro, I am a university professor, and an alcoholic.
Francisco Lázaro Patient of the Victoria Program in 2003