The Empty Chair: Its Role in My Recovery

January 12, 2026

Tom Gavea, Author

Tom O'Connor, Publisher

As the publisher of Vital Voyage Blog, I follow author Tom Gavea on Medium: https://tom-97282.medium.com/. Tom has given me his permission to republish his article as follows:

Herewith is Tom Gavea writing: 

So you walk into a therapist's office, and there's an empty chair sitting across from you. You don't quite understand that the empty chair might hold the key to unlocking years of buried emotions and unfinished business that's been driving your addiction. 

Welcome to the world of Gestalt therapy and its most famous technique — the empty chair. 

Just what is Gestalt therapy?

Think of it this way: most traditional therapies want to dig into your past, analyze your childhood, and dissect your dreams like a coroner examining evidence. Gestalt therapy is more like a good trial lawyer interested in what's happening right here, right now, in this moment. The word "Gestalt" is German for "whole" or "form," and that's exactly what this therapy is after — helping you see the complete picture of who you are, not just the broken pieces.

Psychiatrist Fritz Perls developed this approach in the 1940s. He believed that people get stuck when they can't integrate all parts of themselves. Instead of spending years talking about why you're angry at your father, Gestalt therapy says, "Let's have you talk TO your father — even if he's been dead for twenty years." And that's where our empty chair comes in.

The empty chair is much more than furniture. It can be a powerful intervention, offering individuals a unique pathway to confront unresolved emotions they don't even realize they have. Its approach has proven effective in recovery settings where clients must navigate complex webs of guilt, shame, anger, and grief that often underlie addictive behaviors.

I'm not so sure you'd ever come across this technique on your recovery path. I just happened to cross paths with a beneficial counselor during my outpatient treatment, who thought I would benefit from it.

Wow, it was tough. tough, tough, tough.

Here's how it works: 

You sit across from an empty chair, and you're asked to imagine that someone significant — your deceased mother, your addiction, that critical voice in your head, or even your younger self — is sitting right there. Then you talk to them.

Not about them, TO them.

You say all the things you've been afraid to say: all the anger you've swallowed, all the love you never received. It's like having your day in court with all the witnesses who shaped your life, except the only judge is you.

This isn't some new-age mumbo jumbo. There's a real method to this madness. By externalizing your internal conflicts, you can see them clearly for the first time. It's the difference between trying to describe a knot in your stomach and looking at the tangled rope in your hands. Suddenly, you can start to untie it.

Now, why does this matter so much in recovery? Well, let me tell you something — addiction rarely happens in a vacuum. Most of us didn't wake up one day and decide to destroy our lives for fun. There is usually some pretty heavy emotional baggage we've been lugging around, and that baggage has a way of demanding we numb it out with whatever substance happens to be handy.

In recovery, the empty chair serves as both a courtroom and a confessional. Many folks struggling with addiction are carrying around resentments that could sink a battleship. They're angry at parents who failed them, spouses who left them, friends who betrayed them, or bosses who fired them. But here's the thing — you can't exactly march into your dead father's office and give him a piece of your mind. That's where the empty chair becomes invaluable.

But the real genius of this technique? It also works when you need to have a heart-to-heart with yourself. Think about it — most people in recovery are at war with themselves. There's the part that wants to stay clean and the part that whispers sweet lies about "just one drink." Instead of trying to ignore or destroy that addicted part of yourself (spoiler alert: that never works), you can put it in the chair and have an honest conversation. You might be surprised what that part of you has to say for itself.

Then there's grief.

Many people have lost relationships, opportunities, or aspects of themselves due to their addiction. They may also be grieving the loss of the substance itself, which often served as a primary coping mechanism and companion. By engaging in dialogue with what has been lost, clients can process their grief more fully and begin to develop healthier ways of managing loss and disappointment.

The technique also facilitates essential conversations with deceased loved ones, particularly when guilt or unfinished business contributes to addictive patterns. People may harbor deep regret about things said or left unsaid to parents, siblings, children, or friends who died during active addiction periods. The empty chair offers an opportunity to express anger, seek forgiveness, or say goodbye in ways previously impossible. These conversations can clean the emotional wound that drives continued substance use.

Just Be Careful

Make sure you're ready. The empty chair technique in recovery requires careful consideration of timing and client readiness. Therapists must establish a strong therapeutic rapport and ensure clients feel safe before introducing such an emotionally intensive intervention. The technique works best when clients have developed some emotional regulation skills and can tolerate intense feelings without immediately seeking chemical relief. Group therapy settings can enhance the experience, as other group members often relate deeply to the emotions expressed and may find vicarious healing through witnessing another's process.

Therapists typically begin by helping clients identify the specific person, relationship, or aspect of self they wish to address. Clear instructions about the process help reduce anxiety and resistance. Clients are encouraged to speak directly to the empty chair as if the intended recipient were actually present, using "you" statements rather than third-person references. This direct address intensifies the emotional experience and creates a greater psychological impact.

As the dialogue unfolds, therapists may suggest that clients physically move to the empty chair and respond from the perspective of the other person or aspect of self. This role reversal often provides surprising insights and helps clients understand different perspectives on their experiences. Many discover that their harsh internal critic sounds remarkably similar to voices from their past, or that their compassionate self holds wisdom they hadn't previously accessed.

My Journey Through the Process

In my recovery journey, I faced an empty chair where I was asked to imagine my deceased father sitting. The first attempt proved too goddamned overwhelming — I couldn't do anything other than sob. The emotional weight of unresolved grief and anger felt insurmountable, and I left that session feeling frustrated and emotionally raw.

I was encouraged to try again the following week. When I returned and faced that empty chair again, the floodgates burst open. I won't go into details, but questions about my childhood soon turned into demands to know why my father had done certain things and failed to do others. All the anger I had bottled up for years came pouring out in a torrent of emotion that surprised me with its intensity. The fact that I use the term 'father' instead of 'dad' is telling in itself.

I hadn't realized how much anger I had been carrying. The empty chair allowed me to express feelings I had never fully allowed myself to feel. It would be ten years into my sobriety before I could truly forgive, but that session marked the beginning of a crucial healing process that proved essential to my long-term recovery.

Resistance and Breakthrough

This personal experience illustrates a typical pattern in recovery work: initial resistance followed by a breakthrough. The resistance often protects against overwhelming emotions, but when clients feel safe enough to move through it, profound healing can occur. The empty chair technique doesn't force immediate resolution; instead, it opens a doorway to ongoing emotional processing that can continue for months or years.

I remember the discussion I had at the NCO club while stationed in Iwakuni, Japan. I encountered a perspective that highlighted the complexity of therapeutic resistance, but I brushed it aside at the time. I was drinking with an ex-Navy man who had transferred to become a Marine corporal. Despite being in service for more than 12 years, his rank was equivalent to that of someone with only 3 years of experience. It did not occur to me that alcohol might be the underlying factor in his low rank.

Our conversation had turned to drinking, and he admitted he was trying to watch his alcohol consumption. He had been to the treatment center at the Balboa Naval Hospital, which at the time was the treatment center for all the drunks in the Navy or Maine. His response was candid: "They tell you shit like I'm drinking because I hate my mother. I don't need to hear that shit."

Looking back, I realize this encounter contrasted with my own willingness to engage with difficult emotions through techniques like the empty chair. While I had initially struggled with the process, I eventually recognized its value. This Marine sergeant, however, seemed determined to avoid the very emotional exploration that might have addressed the root causes of his drinking problem.

*If you are enjoying this article, you might also like Wes Arnett's post

So, Am I Done?

I think so. My session occurred in the early days of my recovery, some 30 years ago, and I have long forgiven my father for being human. As I mentioned, the empty chair process is used to address many different areas of therapy. For me, it meant addressing buried emotions that went unchecked for way, way too long. I'm no shrink, but I've read that, when used as part of a comprehensive treatment approach, the empty chair technique can offer healing and support for lasting recovery.

I know it helped me—big time.

Are you willing? The difference between embracing any emotional work and rejecting it, as illustrated by my encounter with the Marine corporal, underscores the importance of readiness and willingness, guided by a mentor who knows what explosive material lies just below the surface. We all know that recovery requires the courage to face difficult emotions and unresolved relationships. The empty chair technique provides a structured, safe way to begin the work, but its effectiveness ultimately depends on the individual's commitment to emotional honesty and growth.

I don't know the curriculum of every alcohol recovery program available today — I stick with AA myself — so I have no clue if the empty chair is even offered these days. But if you come across the empty-chair technique on your journey, I encourage you to try it.

You just might be surprised.

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Tom Gavea is an Avid Traveler, Ex-Marine, Ex-Ad Agency Owner, with Numerous Creative Awards, a Copywriter, a Children's Book Author, and a Golfer. 

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