When someone returns to treatment after a relapse, it’s often with a heavy heart. They walk through our doors carrying the weight of shame, disappointment, and fear of judgment, not just from others, but from themselves. Families often ask, “what went wrong,” and wonder why their loved one couldn’t “get it right” the first time. But what I wish more people understood is that addiction is a chronic relapsing disease.
According to the National Institute on Drug Abuse, between 40% and 60% of people with substance use disorders relapse at least once. Relapses aren’t a sign of failure; it’s a sign that someone is still fighting. Every return to treatment represents courage, not defeat. I know firsthand that no matter how long it takes, recovery is always possible. I’ve seen it happen time and time again. The truth is that relapse happens. It’s how we move forward that makes all the difference.
The “Pink Cloud” of Recovery
Individuals in early recovery often feel on top of the world. They feel confident they’ll never drink or use again. They’re in what we call the “pink cloud,” or the honeymoon phase, of recovery. But eventually that wears off and old feelings and triggers return.
Consider this: someone who once drank to cope with loneliness in school may no longer face that exact trigger as an adult, but workplace conflict or relationship strain can reignite the same emotional need. The brain, conditioned over time, still recognizes alcohol as a source of relief. Without the right support and lacking the tools to cope in a healthy manner, that person is likely to reach for a drink to alleviate their distress.
As the COO of an addiction treatment provider, I know very well that sustained recovery requires more than just abstinence. It means addressing the biological, social, psychological, and systemic factors that contribute to relapse, and it requires ongoing care, support, and understanding.
Because eventually the pink cloud will fade and the enthusiasm for recovery may begin to wear down as challenges arise. Instead of ignoring it or shaming ourselves or our loved ones for these feelings, we must watch for the red flags and have a plan for what to do next.
When the Warning Bells Ring, Be a Lifeline, Not a Judge
Since relapse is a common part of recovery, we need to learn to recognize the warning signs so we can intervene early. Relapses rarely appear out of nowhere; it builds slowly, through familiar patterns and behaviors we can learn to spot.
Take, for instance, someone who starts dismissing their therapist’s advice because they “know better,” or refuses aftercare support because they believe they can do it alone. That’s not independence; that’s a sign of denial creeping in.
Isolation is another major red flag. The “I got this” mindset might sound strong, but it’s a huge flashing sign of impending relapse. Recovery doesn’t happen in solitude; it happens in community.
And then there’s romanticizing substance use, reminiscing about the “good old days” and focusing only on the parties and fun moments. That nostalgia isn’t harmless. It’s a warning that the brain is beginning to rewrite the past.
When those warning signs appear, our response matters just as much as the signs themselves. Too often, people in recovery are met with shame instead of support. That shame doesn’t inspire change; it only deepens isolation. It convinces people they’re broken, beyond help, and alone. And when you can’t lean on anyone, you lean on the one thing that’s always been there: the substance.
I always encourage families to respond with care when these signs arise. Avoid shaming them. Because compassion, not condemnation, is what keeps people alive long enough to heal.
And if you’re the one in recovery, remember that you’re human, and that it’s okay to say you’re struggling and need more help.
Relapse Is an Opportunity to Adjust the Playbook
While it’s certainly not inevitable, relapses are a normal part of the recovery journey for many and a chance to learn valuable lessons about what works—and what doesn’t.
Think about it: professional football players drop the ball, then study the replay and come back stronger. Musicians hit the wrong note and mark their scores to refine their performance. Like any skill, growth in recovery comes from practice and persistence, not perfection.
We must try to let go of the belief that recovery happens in one transformative moment. In truth, recovery happens one day at a time, one moment at a time, and there are going to be challenges and setbacks. Each challenge is a chance to build resilience, insight, and a stronger foundation for lasting change.
For families and friends, that perspective shift matters. It means moving from judgment to curiosity. Instead of pointing the finger and asking, “Why did you relapse?” ask, “What wasn’t working?” For the person in recovery, it’s an invitation to adjust the playbook and consider what you might need to do differently this time.
At my treatment center, we have a specific program for those who have experienced chronic relapse. And we look closely at the factors that may have contributed to a patient’s relapse risk, such as lack of aftercare follow-up, and ensure that we put a plan into place to mitigate those risks. It’s all about avoiding blame and shame and instead delving into what we can do better to thrive in the future.
Those Who Recover Try Again (and Again and Again)
Recovery simply is not linear. Great days, weeks, or months are often followed by difficult ones. As providers, we know to expect that. Recovering individuals or families often have an expectation that once treatment is done, it will be smooth sailing and find themselves frustrated, exhausted and hopeless when setbacks arise.
In truth, millions of people have relapsed (sometimes multiple times) and gone on to live long, fulfilling lives in recovery. How did they do it? They tried again. And again. And again. It may be going back to treatment or simply working to change an unhelpful habit. Each time, they learned something new about what they needed to heal and what it would take to stay well.
No hero’s journey is without setbacks, and no meaningful story unfolds without struggle. Recovery is the same. When we take shame out of relapse, see it as an opportunity to renew our efforts, and let it be part of our story (not the end), that’s when we can truly embrace recovery.
Chris Cummins is the Chief Operating Officer at Laguna Treatment Center, a provider of addiction and co-occurring disorder treatment specializing in chronic relapse prevention.
