It’s 2:15 in the morning and he is driving down a barren stretch of road. He has the radio on and it’s continuously scanning through the dial, trying to find a signal and so far there is none to be found. It’s okay though, he looks at his gages and see that he has plenty of gas. The last road signed he past informed him that in a mere fifty miles he could get a burger, fry’s and a soda, super sized if he was really hungry.

He feels a sense of anxiety as he wonders how long it’s been since he changed the oil…and that noise in the transmission seems to be getting worse. Suddenly, there is a bang, followed by flap, flap, flap on the wheel well. He blew a tire. An observant driver would take their foot of the accelerator, and carefully guide the car to the shoulder, safely rolling to a stop. However, having been preoccupied by worry, the problem caught him off guard and he slammed on the breaks sliding sideways into the ditch. After maneuvering the car onto the shoulder of the road, he pops the hood, thinking that that’s probably where the spare is kept.

He gets out and inspects the damage on the way to the front of the car. Lifting the hood, there is a mild, but growing since of fear. The hood light illuminates the spare, sitting on top of the engine where it supposed to be, and he relaxes. He lugs the tire out of its compartment, and begins looking for the jack and wrench. That fear that was present before begins to grow. “I don’t have the tools”.

Standing on the side of the road after tearing apart the inside of the trunk, and the interior of the car, his fear turns to anger, first at the car, then the person who sold you the car, and finally at himself. Flats happen, unexpected problems occur. He isn’t angry about that. But not having these simple, common tools which are standard equipment on every car made, is a burning embarrassment, that is barbed with fear due to their dangerous situation he is now in. “This didn’t have to happen this way…”

Recovery is filled with metaphors including the title of this article. That there is a box of tools that can be honed to the degree that they maintain their usefulness, is a good way of looking at the things people do in order to stay sober and stay in recovery.

Often people stop using the tools and begin feeling as though they have developed some ability that allows them to no longer need to practice what has been working. That person is in trouble. That person has slipped into denial and is in relapse, use of drugs or alcohol is almost inevitably in that person’s future. From my experience as a counselor I have come to accept that addicts and alcoholics will work a program whether they want to or not. Their choice is what program they want to work, one of relapse, or one of recovery. Just as the person in the vignette above illustrates, working a program of addiction, is just as much work, as working one of recovery.

A relapse program involves manipulation, coercion and dishonesty. One of the goals is to keep others off balance. The active addict must remain vigilant of what others think about him and how they are feeling toward him in order to successfully manipulate them. Those skills are generally practiced on anyone who is available. However, it is most likely that the addict will use these tools in his most skilled way on those who love him the most.

A recovery program also requires vigilance of the same factors only the purpose instead is to develop a sense of how the recovering person can be most useful to those around him. And regarding those most dear to him, it continues to be true that the recovering person will be most open, most generous and most useful to those he loves and who love him.

What is essential to recognize in both scenarios is that the addict or alcoholic is expending energy for the purpose of achieving a goal. When people act in ways that keep people sober, they generally stay sober and when people act in ways that lead to use, they often relapse. The tools of sobriety, or the tools of addiction are sharpened by their use. The tools one uses are the ones which are the sharpest.

Having worked a recovery program for years, I have also come to realize that the most dangerous thing I can do to myself is live under the assumption that something I have learned or some act of willpower will allow me to disregard those tools. Once I do that, I forget that when I put down the tools of recovery, I pick up the tools of relapse.