Her honesty extends to acknowledging the messiness of that journey — including the year and a half she spent in codependency counseling before touching on her addiction directly, and the years she describes as "touching base on parts of my life that I never got to experience" as a young mother. "I can't teach my kids authentically without being authentic myself," she says. Now remarried for five years, Catrina credits her husband as one of her biggest supports — "very good and present for my daughters," she says. Ask Catrina how her own history shapes her work with clients, and she's quick to redirect the credit. "The true worker is the addict, the person that is fighting for their life and their addiction," she says. Her role, as she sees it, is simpler: "Being authentic, to be able to show up and lead by example to the patient, now with professional guidance, and having experience gives that empathy."She doesn't believe counselors can fix anyone. "We can only help ourselves out," she says. "But that doesn't go to say that we don't get to where we are independently without help." Her job, as she describes it, is reassurance — reminding clients "that they have the control within them... to pick up the phone and call somebody, to pick up a book and start reading something, to start thinking about different things in a positive way."Notably, Catrina didn't come through Waterfront as a client herself — her own recovery ran through an intensive outpatient program. But the emotional territory is familiar. She calls herself "a crybaby," a nickname from childhood, and describes advice from a professor that stuck with her: "It's okay to cry with your patients. Just don't cry more than them." That balance, she says, is how she stays "emotionally mature and present" while still meeting people "where they are versus the professional rule book."When asked whether she can tell she's making a difference, Catrina doesn't hesitate. "This job comes with — you gotta go through the bitterness of it to really see the sweetness of it, and I think life is like that too," she says. "The good comes with the bad, and the bad comes with the good, but the reward of seeing the daily efforts that individuals are putting into themselves... it's just promising for humanity."She's also a ministry leader and mental health ambassador for Celebrate Recovery, where she sometimes crosses paths with Waterfront graduates. "Now doing this as long as I have, I have seen the success of sobriety lasting for over 2 years with some of my residents," she says. "That's really promising too."The work doesn't stay at the office, either. "Work continues off the clock and out in the community," she says — advocacy calls, check-ins, conversations that end "on a positive, productive, you can do this." Her daughters notice. It gives them, she says, "a different drive for the non-material focuses of the world." She describes wanting to model real listening — not the kind where "we listen to respond," but the kind where you "listen to feel that person's feeling."Her Message to Anyone Considering WaterfrontAsked what she'd tell someone struggling the way she once struggled, Catrina's answer is direct: "Give it a shot. You've tried everything else. And you never get a no until you try. The biggest failure within any situation is not even attempting anything. So give it a try. It may not fit for you, but at least you're getting the seed going. You're planting the seed within your soul... and it'll lead you in different directions too, because if this doesn't work for you, we can plant you with different resources."It's a philosophy that runs through everything Catrina says about her own path: fall, get back up, ask for help, and keep going. As she puts it, reflecting on the six years of sobriety she marks this week: "You can fall, but you can get back up. And it's okay to ask for help."