A Change to Cherish
“I cherished the program. Cedar House to me is sacred ground because it’s where I first learned the 12 Steps and the Serenity Prayer.”
Jerry struggled through years of challenges with addiction, crime, homelessness, relapses and custody battles. Once he came to Cedar House directly from prison for the first time in 2011, the initial foundation was laid for a lifetime in recovery.
At the age of 15, Jerry began hanging around of group of guys who used him to buy their beer. He was a quiet kid who happened to look older than he was, so they invited him to party with them. They convinced him to drink beer and try smoking weed. Although it made him sick, he still recalled the “overwhelming feeling” of being high for the first time and starting to get hooked. He said, “It was a classic, textbook case. It had a snowball effect. Marijuana really is a gateway drug. After that, I got into cocaine, which led to the criminal system.”
Every time Jerry got into trouble with the law, it was directly related to his drive to pay for more drugs and alcohol. He said, “To sum it up, I was a tore-up drug addict.”
By the time he turned 40, he had been in and out of the prison system for most of his life. The court system allowed him to move into a program called His House where he got accustomed to rising at 5:30 a.m. and having his morning coffee over prayers and self-help books with fellow clients. He was technically still in custody but starting to desire a real change in his life.
The Department of Corrections moved him to Cedar House for residential treatment. After 25 years, he was finally sober. He and four of his new friends kept up their early morning routine there. They learned more and more about recovery and started to understand how they could change their lives. The more he learned, the more he wanted to know more. He had so many questions! He would catch staff in the hallway and ask for their guidance to deepen his understanding of the recovery process.
After five and a half months of sobriety, Jerry relapsed. His mom had a stroke and became hospitalized. His case manager took him to the hospital to see her and reviewed the 12 steps on the way there. A few days later, he went with his cousin and stayed overnight. Since he was still in court custody during that time, he wasn’t allowed to return to Cedar House. He stayed by her side for another week, but the stress led to drinking, and the snowball effect began again.
Jerry moved from smoking crack to meth and even both at the same time on occasion, which caused dangerous behaviors and hallucinations. When he was arrested four years later in 2015, he asked to return to Cedar House. He said, “They had really impressed me. They got me sober. I knew the info they gave me was real. It was life changing.”
During his experience with mental health court in sober living, he had some time to think. He was 49 years old and knew he would lose everything if he didn’t commit to his recovery. He visited his counselors at court and perked up when they said his first 90 days would be at Cedar House.
In the Cedar House lobby as he awaited his turn for intake, Jerry noticed another client looking at him. This man ended up being his roommate. At night, Jerry would try to leave the door ajar to read the Big Book by that sliver of light, but his roommate would yell at him to shut the door so they could all sleep. Jerry said, “The Big Book became my bible. I went to groups, worked out, read the Big Book, and asked questions.”
He didn’t want to fight with his roommate, so Jerry would bring his book into the bathroom to read at night. This routine of reading and focusing on the program laid a solid foundation for Jerry. That roommate became his sponsor, and they have stayed close every since. After 90 days, Jerry moved into sober living. He attended Sunday night meetings and panels until 2018.
That’s when Jerry’s mother passed away. He had regained custody of his children, but after relapsing, they were taken back into the system. He said, “I was crumbling. By the grace of God, I realized I was going to lose everything. I realized if I keep drinking and using, my kids will stay in the system.”
He said, “I had to take a deep breath and deal with the disappointment of relapse.”
On Dec. 29, 2019, Jerry committed himself once again to his recovery. He reflected back on the staff at Cedar House and said, “I remember everything they said. I would call and talk to Mike (his case manager). Every time he told me something, it rang true or eventually it would come true.”
Jerry is proud of everything he learned at Cedar House and the fact that he’s been able to mend his relationships with his family. With the help up Step Up, Jerry and his son are in stable housing. Now, he has four years of sobriety and earned his certified peer support license to help others on their path to recovery.
When Nikki first realized alcohol was destroying her life, it was 2012 — the year she nearly lost it entirely. On May 12, 2012, she made the decision to stop drinking. That same day, her body collapsed under the weight of years of alcohol abuse. She began bleeding heavily, vomiting stomach acid, and was rushed to the hospital. Her heart stopped. Medical staff performed CPR for 6 minutes and 38 seconds before bringing her back. Nikki survived, but her road ahead was long. She spent two months in the hospital, then entered Alcoholics Anonymous and worked the program. She stayed sober for two years — but like so many battling addiction, she relapsed. Over the years, her drinking escalated to 4–6 liters of vodka a week, often leading to hallucinations, psychosis, and dangerous detox episodes. Legal troubles, family struggles, and her son’s complex medical needs weighed heavily on her. Her breaking point came after her young son — who had cerebral palsy — faced a series of health crises. Despite staying sober for two years, the mounting stress and heartbreak eventually pushed her back into the cycle of drinking. Nikki tried multiple recovery programs, but medical complications and relapses kept pulling her back down. She knew alcohol was destroying her, but the pull was relentless. Then came Cedar House. Nikki says the outpatient program there changed everything. It gave her structure, accountability, and—most importantly—nonjudgmental support. Even during relapse, she knew Cedar House would welcome her back with compassion and encouragement. While in treatment, Nikki endured one of the most devastating moments of her life — the loss of her son in November 2022. In her grief, she had the tools and the people to help. She leaned on therapy, grief counseling, church, her sponsor, and the fellowship of AA. She refused to give up. With encouragement from her Cedar House counselor, Nikki pursued a lifelong dream: becoming a psychiatric technician. She enrolled at Mt. San Antonio College and not only completed the program but graduated valedictorian in June 2025. She is now preparing for her state board exams and continuing her personal growth, sobriety, and service to others. Nikki knows that recovery is a lifelong process. “When you’re sick and tired of being sick and tired, you have to get the right tools in place,” she says. “The people at Cedar House believed in me, even when I couldn’t believe in myself. They gave me a safe place to come back to—without judgment—every single time.” Today, Nikki is living proof that with the right support, a person can come back from even the darkest moments and build a successful life.
Breaking down the barriers and misconceptions surrounding drug and alcohol rehabilitation is critical for encouraging more people to seek help. Read more now.
When Steven was in his final days of treatment at Cedar House, he took time to write about his experience and share his story with his group. This is his heartfelt reflection in his own words: My name is Steven, and I am a recovering drug addict. Throughout my life I have used a variety of drugs from marijuana, cocaine, meth, and heroin to fentanyl. There would be times when I would hear people share and say that they are just like me. But I am not going to do that today, because I have no idea of what your stories are. What I would like to do is share a little bit of my story and what I have been through, and maybe you can relate to it. In my story, I took a path with so much pain and adversity. I would hide the pain from everyone. At a very young age, I was molested. This started my journey of PTSD and drug addiction. I would hide and isolate from people because I was terribly afraid of what people would think of me. I felt ashamed for what had happened to me. So, when my sister offered me drugs at a young age, I did them with her, and I felt a sense of relief. It would numb the pain and embarrassment that I felt from what had happened. My self-pity drove me into doing more and more drugs. I would blame myself for what that person did to me. I was so angry that I had no control over what had happened. I was just a child. I bottled up my feelings and buried them deep down inside. It would eat at me every day -- day in and day out. Growing up, the pain would lurk its ugly head. The worst it ever got was when I was alone in the dark. I felt so much fear growing up. This is something I had to overcome and learn from. Life is so interesting. It makes us walk through different paths of choices. We are unable to see the destruction and pain we are about to go through. These challenges mold us and makes us the people we are today. There are two experiences that I would like to share with you today. The first is my divorce and the second is the death of my sister. These events steered me into a life of addiction, and I hope my message can help change at least one life. I know that I felt exhausted from the life of chasing -- chasing for a cure that would never appear. My divorce was not something simple. It ate at me every day. I got there through a series of issues that happened. I was fired from my job. I had to sell my home that I bought for my now ex-wife and my unborn son. I sat and cried in my son's room alone because I felt like a failure. During all of this, I was hiding my addiction until I couldn't handle it anymore. My wife found out and kicked me out of our apartment. I felt so angry, I felt like she threw me out like trash. I was acting like a child, instead of dealing with it like I should have. I was so hard on myself. I felt like I was losing control, but the lesson to this is to allow things to go. I needed to surrender to this. I also learned that I needed to ask for help instead of hiding from the issues. This takes me to my next lesson -- when my sister passed. When my sister passed away, it was seven days of hell. She passed due to multiple abscesses, one on each arm and one in her stomach. I stayed up for seven days changing her bedding because she would either defecate or urinate on herself. I cleaned her and watched her as she tried to sleep but couldn't because of the pain. I tried to plead with her to let me call 911 because at the time, I had no idea what was happening. She would say, "No, I want to wait for mom to come home." Our mother was away on vacation visiting family out of the country and would return in seven days. I can still hear her cries of agony, day after day. She made me promise that I wouldn't call 911 until our mother returned. So, I kept that promise and kept her secret. I never knew what an abscess was and how serious it would become. After the 7 days were up, our mother returned home. The next morning, we called 911. My mother was frantic and didn't know what to do. Even in agony my sister lied to the EMTs; she said nothing about her use. My sister wanted our mother to not find out her secret. I couldn't stay quiet any longer, I told the EMTs everything, but it was too late. My sister passed away after two days. The doctors tried to take the contaminated blood out of her system, but nothing they did helped. It was just too late. Prior to all of this, I would plead with my family to help my sister. They just did not want to believe that there was a problem. During her funeral, everyone was upset and saying they could have done this or that. I was so disgusted with my family that I didn't attend. I wanted to remember my sister by the good times and not the last seven days of her life. I felt so much guilt over what had happened. I had to deal with the pain. I had to let go of the resentment, anger, fear, sadness, judgement, secrets, hurt, blame, and guilt. I had to put my faith in something more. I had to put my faith in a higher power. So, I had to make some changes in my life. I started making commitments. Making a commitment every day to stay sober requires faith. If I make the necessary changes, things will get better. I need to accept that some choices and things are out of my control, and I need to be okay with that. I will trust myself in making the changes that are needed and have pride in myself. My selfishness will be in my sobriety and not in negative actions towards people. Faith can be anything I desire it to be. Cedar House has taught me to take responsibility in myself, my actions, my behavior and, most importantly, in my addiction. Throughout this journey, I have learned to love myself again, to work on my character defects, and to gain so many new brothers in sobriety. In life, so many people make mistakes, and you can choose to get up and make the necessary changes or get beat down. And I was beat down over and over again. I walked into rehab beaten, bruised, and broken. It was challenging, but over time the bruises healed and the bones that were broken started to heal as well. I am grateful to overcome the mountain of rehabilitation. I didn't do this by myself. It took a brotherhood of men who were broken and beaten, too. We all faced our fears in our own time. It also took the patience and care of our counselors. They gave us guidance and advice that we desperately needed. They were the lighthouse to our battered ships. Without them we wouldn't know which way to steer. To my brothers in the war of sobriety, I say, my love goes out to you, to the ones who are healing, and to the ones who still need help. To the staff of Cedar House, no amount of gratitude will express how much I am thankful for. You revived my broken soul. I will end with one final thing to my brothers, you're not alone.
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