You haven’t crashed. You haven’t lost your job, your kids, or your reputation. You’re still showing up—on time, dressed well, checking every box. But you’re
You didn’t plan to stop going. You didn’t intend to ghost your therapist, skip groups, or disappear halfway through your intensive outpatient program. Maybe it
You keep showing up. For work. For your kids. For your partner. The tree is decorated. The shopping list is almost done. The invitations are
I used to tell myself I wasn’t that bad. I paid my bills. I crushed deadlines. I remembered birthdays. So what if I drank a
It’s 6:15 AM. The coffee is brewing, the emails are already stacking up, and you’re wondering how you’ll get through another day pretending everything’s fine.
I used to believe alcohol made me interested. Creative. Even powerful. It took everything I had to admit that the thing I used to “take
I wasn’t spiraling. I wasn’t passed out in parking lots or getting fired. From the outside, things looked… fine. But inside? I was white-knuckling every
When everything feels too heavy, even showing up can feel impossible. If you’ve paused or walked away from an intensive outpatient program, you’re not broken.
Let’s be honest: IOP can feel like too much and not enough at the same time. You show up, you share, you try to stay
Somewhere between showing up and shutting down, you lost your why. IOP became another checkbox. Another thing to get through. And now? You’re wondering if
