I didn’t plan to come back. And when I did, I almost didn’t say anything about the relapse.
Ninety days sober had felt like a mountain. I had a sponsor. I was journaling, going to meetings, holding it together. There were moments I actually felt free. And then, one drink. Just one. At first.
It’s easy to call it “just a slip.” That’s what I did. For a week or two, I tried to outrun the shame by pretending I had it under control. But the truth is—I was spiraling. Not in a dramatic, TV-movie kind of way. In the quiet, slow, maybe-no-one-will-notice kind of way.
I could’ve kept pretending. Or I could’ve come back. I chose to come back.
But this time, I said yes to something I swore I’d never try: medication-assisted treatment.
Relapsing After 90 Days Didn’t Erase My Progress—It Showed Me Where I Was Still Vulnerable
The guilt was brutal.
I didn’t tell anyone at first. Not my sponsor. Not my therapist. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror without thinking, You blew it. All the work, the growth, the progress—I thought it was gone.
But what I learned later, sitting in group at On Call Treatment, was this:
Relapse doesn’t mean you failed. It means you’re still learning.
It’s not a moral collapse. It’s not proof you’re broken. It’s information. It tells you something’s not working, something’s missing, something needs attention.
For me, the missing piece was stability—and MAT gave me that.
I Used to Think Medication Wasn’t “Real” Recovery
I was the guy who said, “I want to do this naturally.”
And for 90 days, I did. I thought taking medication meant I wasn’t really sober. That it was just another way to numb out. That it was cheating.
But when I came back, one of the clinicians gently asked if I’d be open to talking about medication-assisted treatment. Not pushing. Not pressuring. Just inviting.
And for the first time, I said, “Yeah… maybe.”
What I learned blew up my assumptions. MAT wasn’t a crutch. It wasn’t a mask. It was a tool—and one I should’ve considered from the start.
What MAT Gave Me Wasn’t a High—It Was Breathing Room
I didn’t feel drugged. I didn’t feel flat. I felt calm.
That was new.
The medication didn’t do the work for me, but it gave me the space to do it. The cravings didn’t hijack my afternoons. I could finally sit in therapy without obsessively calculating when I could be alone again. I could sleep. I could show up.
And I could finally hear what people were actually saying in group—because I wasn’t busy fighting my brain the entire time.
MAT helped me stay in recovery long enough to believe it was possible again.
Coming Back Felt Like Failure—But It Turned Out to Be the Bravest Thing I’ve Ever Done
I was so afraid people would look at me differently.
That someone would say, “Didn’t you already do this?” or “What happened?” But no one did. No one flinched. And more than that—no one made me explain myself to earn help again.
They just said, “Glad you’re back. Let’s keep going.”
That’s what made it safe enough to try MAT. No shame. Just options. Support. A voice on the other end of the phone saying, “We’ve got you. You’re not starting over. You’re just starting again.”
Saying Yes to Medication Didn’t Make Me Weak—It Made Me Honest
It took 90 days and one scary relapse for me to admit: I needed more support than I could give myself.
MAT helped me hold the line when willpower wasn’t enough. It helped me stay connected when my instincts told me to isolate. It helped me regulate when anxiety hit out of nowhere.
I still do the work—therapy, journaling, group, self-inventory. But I do it from a place that feels more solid now. Less reactive. Less fragile.
MAT gave me the foundation. I’m still building the house.
Recovery Isn’t a Straight Line—It’s a Loop You Learn From
I used to think I’d failed because I needed to come back.
Now, I see it differently. I had 90 days. Then I had a stumble. Then I had a choice: hide in shame or walk back in.
Coming back with honesty—and with MAT—wasn’t weakness. It was wisdom. I knew more this time. I had more language. I was more willing to ask for help.
That’s not a reset. That’s growth.
MAT Isn’t a One-Size-Fits-All Fix—It’s a Custom Layer of Support
At On Call Treatment in Waltham, MAT isn’t just a prescription and a pat on the back. It’s part of a whole-person outpatient program built around real recovery.
For me, it looked like:
- Starting Vivitrol, a once-monthly injection that blocks alcohol’s effects and quiets cravings.
- Weekly therapy focused on what led to my relapse, and how to build guardrails around those patterns.
- Group sessions with others who’d also “come back,” which made me feel less alone and less ashamed.
- Ongoing check-ins with medical staff to tweak my treatment and track how I was really doing.
Every piece of my MAT plan was built with me—not handed to me.
FAQs About Medication-Assisted Treatment After Relapse
Is MAT only for first-time clients?
No. Many people begin MAT after a relapse—sometimes after months or years of abstinence-based recovery. You don’t have to be new to recovery to benefit from MAT.
Will MAT erase the progress I’ve already made?
Absolutely not. MAT is a support layer—not a reset. If you’ve been in recovery before, MAT can help deepen your work, not replace it.
What if I’m scared of being judged?
That fear is real—and at On Call Treatment, we take it seriously. You’ll be met with respect and confidentiality. No one’s here to shame your relapse or question your decisions.
Will I feel numb or “off” on MAT?
Not likely. Most people report feeling more stable and less anxious. You’ll be monitored by a clinician to ensure your dose supports—not disrupts—your emotional clarity.
How long do people stay on MAT?
It varies. Some stay on medication for a few months, others for a year or more. We revisit the plan with you regularly and adjust as needed.
If You’ve Come Back—You’re Not Starting Over. You’re Starting Wiser.
Call (833)287-7223 to learn more about our medication-assisted treatment services in Waltham, MA. You’re not a failure. You’re still in the fight—and this time, you don’t have to do it alone.