Facing Relapse with Compassion and Courage
Sometimes, we call it “relapse.” Other times, it’s a “return to use.” Whatever the term, it can shake us to the core—whether we’re the parent, the friend, or the person in recovery. People often say relapse is part of the recovery process, while others feel differently.
When someone starts building a solid foundation in recovery, we cling to the hope that the hardest chapters are behind them. But relapse can begin so quietly—it often happens long before someone takes that first drink or uses a drug.
When relapse happens, it doesn’t just impact the individual. It ripples through everyone connected to them. Much like a loss can make us reflect on our own lives, seeing a friend or loved one relapse makes us re-examine our own recovery or our loved ones. Is there more we should be doing?
As someone who is in recovery and has a loved one in recovery, worry often lingers in the background, even on the best days. We know that recovery is fragile and must be nurtured. We must remain humble and never believe this is “behind us.” For those new to the world of addiction, it does get better—but it’s never something we are cured of.
For both my loved one and I, recovery did not last at our first attempts. We both wanted it, but it was a series of sobriety and abstinence before we finally found lasting recovery. The process was not linear; it involved setbacks and struggles. This was disappointing at the time, but now that time has passed, I realize that it is okay and part of the process. It’s a reminder that recovery is a journey.
Relapse can feel like a setback to the hope we’ve fought so hard to hold onto. It’s a loss—a reminder that recovery is delicate and that addiction touches not just one person, but everyone in their circle. And yet, relapse can also be a rallying cry. It’s a chance to surround the person struggling with compassion, love, acceptance, forgiveness, and hope.
For me, relapse is a stark reminder: for those of us impacted by addiction, no amount is ever “safe.” It brings back memories—sometimes painful ones—and underscores the meaningful attention that recovery demands.
Not long ago, I spoke with two men I deeply respect, who understand every facet of AA. One of them explained how relapse often follows a pattern, unfolding step by step in ways we can recognize if we pay attention. His words struck me. They made me reflect on all the people I know in recovery, wondering how they’re really doing. Are they staying connected? Is there a piece of their journey that might need extra attention?
I wish recovery could be simplified into a checklist: Follow these steps, and sobriety is guaranteed. But that’s not how it works. Recovery is hard work. The promises of the program—those moments where life opens up beyond our wildest dreams—only come with authenticity, persistence, and an ongoing commitment to growth.
We might long for a finish line, a moment when we’re “done” with recovery. But the truth is, recovery isn’t a destination. It’s a way of life, a daily commitment to showing up—not just for the big milestones, but for the small victories, the steady work, and the moments when we need to dig deeper to stay the course. And that’s not something to fear. That’s something to embrace.
Recovery is not about getting to a finish line; it’s about embracing each new day with the courage to grow, heal, and help others do the same.
What’s one thing you can do today to embrace the ongoing journey of recovery—for yourself or for someone you love?
