Why Clients Are Sometimes More at Risk for Relapse When “Life Is Getting Good”
- Brainz Magazine
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
For nearly 14 years, I've helped individuals navigate the complex landscape of addiction in order to achieve recovery. Nicknamed "The Casual Counselor", my approach is unconventional, but undeniably effective.
Never underestimate that which is familiar, and our propensity to return to that which is familiar! When I first encounter a client, they are broken, shattered, their lives in shambles, burned bridges with friends and family, broke, and in a mountain of financial debt, physically, mentally, and emotionally sick. They feel hopeless, helpless, and beyond repair. There is a marked element of low (or no) self-esteem, self-belief, self-value, or even a tiny sliver of hope that they can maybe find their way out of the mess of active addiction.
The first days are the hardest days. But for many people I have worked with, this ain’t their first rodeo. They have been in this condition on varying occasions, sometimes for decades, bouncing in and out of detox facilities, residential treatment centers, sober living homes, day treatment programs, evening treatment programs, and there is a high likelihood that I am probably the hundredth counselor they have had the pleasure, or displeasure, of working with, to recount their story of countless losses, consequences, and a retelling of how institutionalized they have become.
What a mess! It is sad to witness and to hear.
When you see a client begin to come out of the fog of those early days of sobriety, it sparks within the treater an immediate hope. It comes down to this: even if they don’t believe in themselves, they can recover and stay recovered. After all, I have been on the other end of it, and I was able to get better and stay better. I have been in their seat, in my own version of the path of wreckage that I created during my own 17-year period of drug and alcohol use, after countless attempts to “fix my life,” only to slip, relapse, and fall off the wagon over and over again. It took me a while to crack the code, so why shouldn’t they be able to?
I often tell them that statement: “Even if you don’t believe in yourself, I do.” It is typically met with a doubtful shrug in those early days. And I get it. I do. Though asking for help is incredibly brave and courageous, it does not feel strong or triumphant. It feels like we could just fall to pieces with a slight nudge. One of life’s beautiful paradoxes is that you can’t do something brave without being afraid. When I meet my clients for the first time, all of them are scared as hell.
When they prioritize their health and keep doing “the next right thing,” inevitably they start feeling and getting better. Getting better is not an event; it is a process. It is cumulative. Picture building a structure. You have to build a foundation, brick by brick, from the bottom up. Change and improvement are happening with the laying of each brick, but it takes a long time to start to see and feel the shape of the new and improved structure.
Even more difficult is seeing the change going on inside of us. It is important to witness that part through the eyes of others, like that of the therapist, family, close friends, and so on. People do heal, but early recovery is not a story of days, weeks, or even months. When I describe early recovery to my clients and their families, I tell them that I am referring to the first couple of years at a minimum, before things really start to “take.” When it doesn’t feel like such hard work anymore. Recovery begins to really integrate itself into ourselves, and we just “become.”
We become a person in long-term recovery. So, buckle up.
The conundrum is this: anyone who ever enters treatment does so under the auspices that they want to improve their lives. They want to build a sustainable, independent life for themselves, one in which they are able to become financially stable, in the midst of healthier relationships, juggling the many responsibilities of ordinary adult life. Many are able to achieve this. When they put their efforts into building their new structure of recovery, life starts opening up and getting bigger. When life gets bigger, however, in many ways, it gets more difficult.
Overwhelming.
It is also all so new to them. When a client has been accustomed to repeated disasters for long periods, bouncing in and out of those treatment centers, burning bridges, and blowing all their cash on vices, it becomes normalized for them. It is essentially their comfort zone, the life they know best. There is comfort in the familiarity of this, even though it is a terribly uncomfortable lifestyle.
The new life? Life in recovery? When they have worked so hard at cleaning up the messes incurred by active addiction, they find themselves as strangers in a strange land. Pioneers. Pilgrims. Even though everything looks better on paper, that does not mean it feels better. In fact, “better” can feel terribly alien. It is a testament to how scary change can feel.
So, sometimes, without any predicating event, I have witnessed individuals who have not used drugs or popped open a bottle of booze, for a period of years sometimes, return to that behavior without any warning, and it is heartbreaking to witness. All the progress they have made, the new structure, set ablaze and burning to the ground. It does not make any logical sense! Why would anyone who had worked so hard for so long to build that beautiful and functional life ever return to the behavior that would demolish it?
They are returning to what they know best. We call it self-sabotage. Look, life in addiction is generally awful. Problematic drinking and drug use take and take and take. It robs people of friendships, trust, financial stability, freedom. It can lead to health problems, homelessness, and even death. Returning to that? Why? Why would someone ever do that?
It is their comfort zone. Are these individuals capable of living ordinary lives for the long term and creating a new comfort zone? Of course, they are, but that does not mean it is easy for them. They get their health restored, they clean up their debt, they mend fences and rebuild bridges, they attain gainful employment and financial stability. Sometimes, they find a wonderful partner, start families, become homeowners, and then, one day, boom. They return to that life of degradation, depravity, and desperation. It’s maddening beyond words, but it’s understandable.
Beyond it being overwhelming, the day-in, day-out maintenance of sustaining an ordinary life in recovery, with all of its wonderful gifts, there is also sometimes a deeper element that we, as treaters, need to consider when this happens with someone we are working with. That element is shame. I have known many people who rebuilt their lives from the ground up, only to squander all of what they had built and maintained under the false belief that they are fundamentally undeserving of “the good life,” because they are fundamentally bad people.
Damaged goods. Like they came out defective from the factory. It’s not objectively true, but feelings seldom are.
I always ponder my favorite quote regarding shame, credited to the writer Anaïs Nin:
“Shame is the lie someone told us about ourselves.”
And the work of unlearning shame? That is some of the most difficult work of all. But it can be done. We are not born with that voice that tells us we are fundamentally and irreparably damaged. It is a voice that is implanted into us, and one that can lead to self-sabotage in recovery, just when things are starting to get good.
Read more from Joshua Bennett-Johnson
Joshua Bennett-Johnson, Licensed Addictions Therapist
After working for 7 years in an amazing clinic, I launched into private practice in 2018. I love my job. I can say that without reservation. Watching people rebuild their lives is something that is worth more than any dollar amount.
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