Mary Cahill remembers the day her recovery journey truly began — the day she stopped trying to outrun herself..
By then, she had spent years cycling through treatment, legal consequences, strained relationships, and relapses. She knew what recovery looked like from the outside. It would be a long time before she understood what it was like on the inside.
“I had been in and out of rehabs for a very long time,” Mary said. “I knew what I needed to do. I just needed to commit.”
Today, more than 10 years into her recovery journey, Mary is a licensed social worker and clinical supervisor helping others through the same fear and uncertainty she once knew. She doesn’t take any of it lightly. It is something she built one honest step at a time.
Growing Up in Chester County
Mary grew up in Thorndale, Pennsylvania, the youngest of five children in an Irish Catholic family.
She earned a partial athletic scholarship to East Stroudsburg University, but after drinking became a regular part of her college life, she lost the scholarship and returned home. She later earned a degree as a physical therapy assistant and took a job in an orthopedic surgeon’s office.
It was a good job, and Mary did it well. But the access it provided to prescription medications would soon change the course of her life.
When Everything Changed
During this time, Mary had four wisdom teeth removed, developed dry sockets, and was prescribed a powerful pain medication.
“I remember thinking, ‘Oh, so this is what that feels like,’” she said. “This is great.”
Her substance use escalated quickly. When the original prescription ended, she wanted more. Because she worked in a medical office, she had access to information that allowed her to call in prescriptions. She began doing so for herself and others, a pattern that continued for years.
When the prescription activity was discovered, Mary’s family urged her to enter treatment. By that point, she was exhausted and not thinking clearly about what was coming.
“I was just tired of doing this,” she said.
Mary entered treatment for the first time in 2005. Two weeks gave her time to detox, but not enough for the work to take root.
When she returned home, her family hoped the worst was behind her. Instead, legal consequences followed, and Mary lost her job. Even then, she did not yet understand how much deeper her substance use would take her.
Years of Consequences
Mary returned to active substance use about a year or so later. At first, it was pills. Then, when pills became too expensive, she discovered heroin.
“That,” she said, “was the beginning of hell.”
Over the next several years, Mary cycled through treatment, legal problems, probation violations, and jail. Her marriage suffered. She and her husband eventually separated. She lost her home and moved back in with her mother after her father passed away. Her substance use continued.
In 2013, after time in jail and another treatment stay, Mary’s probation officer directed her to The GateHouse. She arrived at the women’s house in Mountville unsure of what to expect.
“It was intimidating,” she said. “You’re walking into a house full of women you’ve never met before.”
But the program’s structure soon began to make an impression. The step work, meetings, chores, counseling, job searches, and expectations gave Mary something she had been missing—accountability.
“It pushed you,” she said.
She also found connection. Some of the women she met there remain her friends today, including one of her best friends.
And then there was Janice Potter.
Janice, who later became a beloved figure at The GateHouse, was working weekends at the time. Mary remembers her as tough, funny, direct, and deeply invested in the women in the program.
“She was a tough cookie,” Mary said. “But she would have conversations with me for hours. She really motivated the women to keep doing the right thing.”
Mary completed three months at The GateHouse, then stepped down into REI, now known as GateHouse Transitional Living. She stayed in Lancaster for more than a year and built meaningful relationships. But she eventually began to drift away from the structure that had helped her.
“I wasn’t in the recovery scene as much,” she said. “After a while, it was difficult to stay connected.”
After celebrating one year in recovery, Mary returned to active substance use. It lasted about three months.
“It was a lot of isolation,” she said. “Just being alone in my room and not talking to anybody. It was awful.”
The Moment That Defined Her Recovery Journey
Mary returned to treatment in June 2015, but her final turning point came later that year. In November, she was arrested in Philadelphia. This time, she was sent to a massive prison, not a little county jail. That nine-month stretch was the longest she had ever spent incarcerated.
“It was really scary,” Mary said. “But I really think I needed that extended time to sit with myself and be like, ‘Okay, what are you doing?’”
Mary’s recovery date is November 11, 2015.
When she was released, the first thing she did was go to a meeting. That same night, she found a sponsor, who more than 10 years later, is still her sponsor. Mary stopped hovering around recovery’s periphery and became an active member of it.
“I made a promise to myself that I was going to dive right in,” she said. “And that’s what I did.”
Rebuilding From the Ground Up
The road back required humility. Mary didn’t have a driver’s license, so she took a job at a dog daycare, making about $9 an hour. She relied on other people for rides.
As tough as it was, she had accountability again.
About a year and a half into recovery, Mary returned to a treatment center in Lancaster where she had once been a client and shared her story. That visit led to part-time work, then full-time work, then intake. She took a train back and forth between Exton and Lancaster every day.
She also returned to school, earning her bachelor’s degree in social work, then her master’s degree. In 2024, she became a licensed social worker.
She now works at Provive Wellness, where she began as an admissions therapist and later stepped into a clinical supervisor role. She has a career, but more importantly, she has purpose.
“I wanted to give back what was given to me,” she said. “I wanted to be that therapist for someone else.”
Building a Life on Trust
Today, Mary lives in Chester County with her longtime boyfriend, who is also in recovery. Her life is grounded, full, and connected to the work of helping others.
When Mary thinks about what she would say to someone entering The GateHouse or beginning the recovery process, her advice is simple: “Be open.”
“We don’t have a lot of trust when we’re coming out of active substance use,” she said. “But if you put even an ounce of trust into someone else, you never know where it’s going to take you.”
Mary knows trust does not always come easily. She also knows what can happen when structure, accountability, and community help carry someone until they are strong enough to stand.
Just as the recovery community helped carry her, she now works to help carry others.
The GateHouse is here for you, whether you need outpatient support, transitional living, or residential extended care programs. If you’re looking for help now, give us a call at 717-393-3215 or reach out to us today to get started.
Growing up in Puerto Rico, Nelson Caldero seemed destined for success.
In his early twenties, Nelson traveled to Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, to attend a funeral for someone connected to the life he’d known in Puerto Rico. It was his first time leaving the island, and the trip changed everything, he said. As soon as he arrived, he saw opportunities everywhere and decided to stay.
Nelson stayed the course. He finished outpatient care, enrolled in classes at HACC, and eventually earned his associate degree in social work. Later, he was accepted into Drexel University’s Behavioral Health Counseling program, a process that took determination and three separate appeals after his application was initially denied due to his old criminal record.
Recovery established Nelson’s career but also rebuilt his family.
This November marks 18 years since Nelson’s last use. It’s a milestone he doesn’t take lightly.
When Nicole Barcalow walks through the doors of The GateHouse each day, it’s more than just a job to her.
After leaving Rutgers, Nicole’s life spiraled. Her parents had moved to Pennsylvania without telling her, leaving her to live with her grandmother in New Jersey.
“I couldn’t believe it,” she said. “I sat in my car at the bottom of the hill and just danced. I called my probation officer, my therapist, everyone I could think of to tell them I was going to work in treatment.”
From a trailer park in New Jersey to leading a recovery house in one of the 
Taylor Faison never imagined her life would come apart so quickly.
Taylor turned to heroin when she couldn’t find pills.
She stayed for a full year, working at a local diner and focusing on herself.
Today, Taylor lives in Williamsport with her boyfriend of six years. Together, they own 
When Natasha McCall walked through the doors of The GateHouse the day after Christmas in 2018, she didn’t know she was entering the place that would transform her life. She had other plans … and those plans included palm trees and sunshine.
At just 15 years old, Natasha became a mother and immediately felt the weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders. She was desperate to provide some sense of stability for her newborn son.
She completed detox, stayed for rehab, and entered the partial program. Her next plan? Florida.
“I wasn’t calling my sponsor. I wasn’t going to meetings,” she said. “I was still trying to hold things together, but I wasn’t doing the work.”
At 32, Bob Esque lives a life that once felt unimaginable. He’s 
His senior year of high school was marked by increasingly severe legal troubles, including marijuana possession charges and burglary. His first stint in Chester County Prison came during gym class, where officers came to his school, arrested him in front of everyone, and put him in handcuffs.
After seven months in jail and a 90-day stay at Colonial House rehab in York, Bob’s counselor mentioned a place called The GateHouse in Lititz.
“I was probably about 40 pounds underweight,” Yannick said. “I was always really close with my mom since I was a kid, so she just asked me what was going on, and something told me to be honest with her.”
Yannick’s true recovery journey didn’t begin until he was nearly ready to leave the 
When The Retreat unexpectedly closed last year, Yannick found himself drawn back to The GateHouse, where he now works as a counselor—helping others on the same journey he once traveled.
Jason Grady’s path to recovery started with a hamburger.
For ten years, Jason’s life became an exhausting cycle of attempts at recovery followed by devastating relapses. He cycled through nine treatment programs and multiple incarcerations. Each time, he thought he could get back on track, only to find himself pulled back into addiction’s grip.
