Relapse prevention, as developed by psychologist Alan Marlatt and colleagues, treats relapse not as a single sudden event but as the end point of a chain of smaller decisions and situations — which means it can usually be interrupted earlier than the moment of use itself. Central to this model is the idea of high-risk situations: predictable circumstances (certain people, places, emotional states, or times) where the likelihood of use goes up substantially. A relapse prevention plan identifies your specific high-risk situations in advance and builds a response for each one before you're standing inside it.
One especially important concept from this model is the abstinence violation effect — the tendency, after a single lapse, to think "I've already blown it, so I might as well keep going." This thought pattern is one of the most common ways a single use turns into an extended return to old patterns, and it's driven almost entirely by shame and all-or-nothing thinking rather than by anything true about the lapse itself. Understanding this effect in advance is itself a form of relapse prevention: if you know the thought is coming, it's easier to recognize it as a thought rather than a fact when it shows up.
Relapse prevention also emphasizes "seemingly irrelevant decisions" — small choices that look unrelated to using but quietly increase risk (keeping an old contact's number, taking a route that passes a familiar bar, agreeing to an event where you know substances will be present). None of these decisions cause a relapse on their own, but they can stack the deck in a way that's easier to see looking backward than in the moment.
Key takeaways
Relapse is usually a chain of decisions and situations, not one isolated event — which means it can be interrupted earlier than the final moment.
High-risk situations are predictable and can be planned for in advance.
The abstinence violation effect — "I've already messed up, so why stop now" — is a thought pattern, not a fact, and recognizing it in advance reduces its power.
Small "seemingly irrelevant decisions" can quietly increase risk long before an actual high-risk moment arrives.
A question to sit with
What's one "seemingly irrelevant decision" in your own life that, looking back, quietly increased your risk in a moment you didn't expect?
Take it to the journal