I didn’t show up to IOP broken. I showed up burned out.
I was still showing up to work. Still making people laugh. Still answering texts with emojis that didn’t match how I actually felt. From the outside, I looked fine—maybe a little tired, maybe a little tightly wound—but functional.
Inside, I was fraying. Quietly.
And that’s the thing no one really tells you about high-functioning addiction: it doesn’t always look like falling apart. Sometimes, it looks like being too put together. Like running on fumes and calling it “focus.” Like pushing through when you’re actually dissociating.
I wasn’t failing. I was fried.
And what I found in New Heights’ intensive outpatient program in Ohio wasn’t a bottom or a breakdown—it was a recalibration. A way to live that didn’t cost me everything just to keep looking like I had it all together.
I Was Functioning—But I Wasn’t Free
It’s a weird kind of double-life. I could give presentations and crash in the bathroom 20 minutes later. I could meal prep for the family and hide bottles behind the laundry detergent. I wasn’t spiraling. I wasn’t missing work. But I also wasn’t home in my own body anymore.
I had rules for myself—only after 6 p.m., never during work hours, always water after two drinks—but I kept bending them. Quietly. And I kept justifying it. “I’m under pressure.” “Everyone relaxes somehow.” “It’s not that bad.”
Here’s the thing: when you’re high-functioning, you can convince yourself you don’t need help a lot longer than you probably should. But functioning isn’t the same as living.
And when I found myself calculating how much I could use without being noticed instead of asking if I wanted to be using at all… I knew something had to change.
Saying Yes to IOP Felt Like Admitting Something I Wasn’t Ready to Say
I’m not going to pretend it was an easy call.
The word program scared me. I didn’t think I was “that bad.” I thought if I admitted I needed help, I’d have to explain myself. That someone would question my job, my parenting, my reputation.
But no one at New Heights asked for a confession.
They asked me to be real. To be present.
That’s it.
IOP didn’t rip my life away. It actually gave it back to me.
A few evenings a week, a group of us would meet—some in-person, some virtual—and talk about what we were holding. Not just the substances, but the stress, the guilt, the stories. And slowly, the pressure started to ease.
IOP Fit Into My Life—Not the Other Way Around
That was the shocker.
I didn’t have to quit my job. I didn’t have to explain anything to my employer unless I wanted to. I didn’t have to “start over.” I just had to show up—a few hours, a few times a week—and be honest.
An intensive outpatient program like New Heights is designed for people who have lives in motion. Who have people counting on them. Who need support that doesn’t make them choose between recovery and responsibility.
That flexibility saved me.
Because I didn’t need to press pause on my life.
I just needed to stop lying to myself about how much I was carrying.
High-Functioning Doesn’t Mean Healthy
The biggest lie I told myself was that because I was “doing fine,” nothing was wrong.
But IEP taught me to ask better questions:
- Am I doing fine, or am I doing just enough to avoid falling apart?
- Am I managing, or am I avoiding?
- Am I present, or am I performing?
One group member said something that stuck with me:
“I realized I was surviving with a smile on my face. That’s not the same as living.”
That was it. I wasn’t spiraling, but I was shrinking. I was living inside a carefully managed bubble of control and coping mechanisms. IOP popped that bubble—in a good way.
Why IOP Didn’t Kill My Drive—It Gave It Direction
I used to be afraid that recovery would make me soft. That I’d lose my edge.
I thought I needed the buzz, the tension, the caffeine and cocktails combo to stay sharp.
Turns out, what I actually needed was sleep. And boundaries. And to stop pretending I was okay all the time.
IOP helped me learn how to feel things without needing to fix them immediately. It gave me words for what I was experiencing—and the space to decide what I wanted next.
And my work? It didn’t suffer.
It improved.
Because I wasn’t operating at 40% anymore.
Recovery Isn’t Just for the Rock Bottom Crowd
If you’re reading this and thinking, “But I’m not that bad,” I get it. I said that too.
But what if you don’t have to get “that bad” to start getting better?
Recovery isn’t punishment. It’s not a forced pause. It’s not an identity you have to wear forever.
It’s relief.
It’s finally being able to say, “I’m tired,” and not have to follow it with, “but I’m fine.”
If you’re holding it together, but it’s costing you peace, energy, and honesty—help is still allowed. You’re still allowed.
Getting Support in Columbus—and Beyond
New Heights made it easy to stay rooted where I was while reaching for something better.
And it’s not just in Columbus—if you’re looking for an intensive outpatient program in Delaware County or Licking County, they’ve got local programs that are just as flexible and just as real.
Because this isn’t about disappearing into recovery. It’s about re-entering your life with clarity, presence, and a little less pretending.
FAQ: Intensive Outpatient Programs for High-Functioning People
What exactly is an intensive outpatient program (IOP)?
An IOP is a structured treatment option that provides group therapy, support, and education—without requiring you to live at a facility. It’s ideal for people who need more than just a weekly therapist but can’t or don’t need residential care.
How many hours per week is IOP?
Most programs range from 9–15 hours per week, often split over 3–5 sessions. New Heights worked with me to build a schedule that fit around work and family time.
Can I keep working while in IOP?
Absolutely. That’s one of the biggest advantages. IOP is designed for people who are still working, caregiving, or otherwise engaged in daily responsibilities.
Will people know I’m in a program?
Only if you choose to share. Confidentiality is protected by law, and many people participate in IOP without disclosing it publicly. Virtual options also add extra flexibility and privacy.
What if I don’t think I’m “bad enough” for treatment?
You don’t have to be at rock bottom to benefit from support. If substances are interfering with your peace, your presence, or your honesty—IOP might help you recalibrate before things escalate.
You Don’t Have to Choose Between Stability and Honesty
I used to think recovery was for people who had nothing left to lose.
But I had a lot—a family, a job, a home—and I was still unraveling, quietly.
Now I know that asking for help wasn’t giving up. It was finally deciding to stop surviving and start living.
Ready to talk?
Call 866-514-6807 or visit New Heights’ intensive outpatient program in Ohio to learn more about how support can fit your life—not take it over.
