Do You Have a Relapse Response Plan for Sex and Porn Addiction?

Do you naively mistake your deep regret and frustration as a guarantee that this will never happen again? Do you castigate yourself and allow the shame to overwhelm you? Preventing you from taking constructive action? By now it has become cliché—but it remains true nonetheless—that relapse is part of recovery.

You might feel broken, but you’re still intact. You might feel like you’re falling apart, but in fact you’re falling together. Recovery is not a linear process; it’s full of twists and turns—hills and valleys. In the beginning, recovery is predictably unpredictable. Like learning to ride a bicycle, you’re guaranteed to wobble and fall in the preliminary stages. For that reason, we train people in the art of damage control.

The question we ask you is the same question we ask everyone else.

The answer to that question is a critical tool implemented in The Mindful Habit Method referred to as the Relapse Response Plan (RRP). The RRP is a sequence of constructive actions you take when you’ve fallen off the wagon. The key word is constructive. It might surprise you, but the items on a Relapse Response Plan are all positive. Damage control revolves around self-care—not self-deprecation. Resist the temptation—as compelling as it might be—to kick yourself while you’re down.

Unfortunately, most people make their estimation of themselves contingent on their sobriety. When they relapse their self-rating sinks like a stone; when they successfully maintain their sobriety they rate themselves highly. They accept themselves conditionally. In a fraction of a second, like a roller-coaster, you go from saint to sinner (or sinner to saint) in your own eyes.

Our contention is that both tendencies miss the mark. Recall your experience of learning how to ride a bicycle. You would lose your balance, fall, and scrape your knee. What next? Did you stand around thinking about what a lousy bicycle rider you were? How disappointed everyone else would be if they discovered that you fell off your bike again? If you did, then you probably felt so discouraged that you didn’t try again. Or, if you did manage to muster enough courage to try again, you likely didn’t make a whole-hearted second attempt—paralyzed by the anticipatory anxiety not just of falling off again, but the self-recrimination that habitually followed.

For most of us, we disinfected the scrape, slapped a band-aid on that mother, took stock, got back on the seat and gave it another go. Why? Because that’s what you do. Think about it. What other option do you have? What does self-deprecation accomplish?

On the other hand, when things are going smoothly, refrain from rating yourself highly. It has nothing to do with you either way. Success and failure are opposite sides of the same coin we call the process. When you finally succeed in learning how to maintain your balance while making sharp twists and turns on your bicycle, it’s enough to enjoy the ride and not entangle your performance with your being. Why? Because that’s the sustainable strategy.

What accounts for your tendency to rate yourself poorly when you stumble; highly when you succeed? There are many reasons, but it stems largely from irrational beliefs such as:

If I don’t castigate myself when I fail, I’m letting myself “off the hook” and I won’t be motivated to improve. Success is not enjoyable without praise. I should already know how to do this perfectly. Baloney.

Do you know what players routinely said about Bill Walsh, the legendary football coach who took the 49ers from zero to hero and won 3 Super Bowls?

Bill didn’t jump on you for a mistake; he came right in with the correction: “Here’s what was wrong; this is how to do it right.” Over and over, without getting all upset, he taught the smallest details of perfecting performance.

That’s how you orchestrate victories.

But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows in the beginning—even Bill Walsh had a learning curve.

At the beginning of his career as an NFL coach, Bill led the San Francisco 49ers to 22 losses and a meagre 5 wins—the worst record in NFL history. At one point, while sobbing over his failure, he even considered submitting his resignation and quitting altogether. But, in his words, he had to, “Stand and fight again, stand and fight again or it was all over.” And that’s what he did, leading them to 3 Super Bowl victories.

He didn’t wallow indefinitely in a sea of pity. He also didn’t bullshit himself—he knew it was imperative that he change his strategy. He fell flat on his face, grieved, got back up, and marched on.

Accountability is not synonymous with self-deprecation, self-shaming, or self-castigation. You can be accountable for your mistakes, without labelling your entire person—your whole being—as a worm, a louse, worthless.

Not convinced? OK. Let’s suppose you are a worm. When will you stop being one? What time delimits the boundary between worm-you and worthy-of-respect-you? 365 days? Why not 364? Or 366? Can you really make an objective argument for fastening and buckling your sobriety to your self-rating?

Accountability is also not synonymous with pouring on a thick layer of praise every time you succeed. You do the work because that’s your job when you decide to get well. You can be happy about the extrinsic benefits of sobriety without entangling them with your self. Sharp concentration, quality time, accomplishing your personal and professional goals, etc. It’s enough to be happy about these and other benefits of sobriety without opting for an ego rub, too.

You are human. Not super-human. Not sub-human. Not holier than thou and not worthy of demonization—but human through and through.

Your sobriety is a skill—or rather, a set of skills. You relapse because you have a series of skill deficits. It could be that you struggle to straighten crooked thinking, manage anger, handle criticism, or deal with rejection. Whatever it is, it’s a skill-deficiency, not a self-deficiency.

When you get well, and begin behaving more effectively and constructively, that too is on account of your skill. It’s not personal to you. Anyone who seriously decides to embark on this path of leading a balanced life and works and practices will see marked improvements. The pace may vary, but the process is the same.

What might your Relapse Response Plan look like?

Devote time to recording the concrete mistakes you made and brainstorm their corrections Reflect on what went right—after all, a relapse does not imply that everything you did was a mistake Be creative. Add more. Need help? Explore the resources available at The Mindful Habit. There is also an Enhanced Accountability Program available.

Get up. Dust yourself off. Take stock of your errors. And move forward with your head neither raised high nor sunk low, but level—with your eyes vigilant for the obstacles ahead.