BELLINGHAM, Wash. -- In the best of times, Half-Way Home founder James Marx watched with pride as strung-out junkies kicked their deadly heroin habit. 

In the worst of times, an overtaxed Marx "dumpster-dived" at fast-food restaurants to eat, and suffered a drug relapse as a result of stress and the loss of state-sponsored medications to help him battle depression. 

Nearly one year after opening the home, the newly sober 45-year-old Bellingham man reflected on the good, bad and ugly of trying to start a much-needed alternative treatment place for the society's most discarded population. 

"Some of it has been absolutely worst stuff I've ever had happen in my life," said Marx, sitting at the kitchen counter of the home he cobbled together with local residents' cash, in-kind donations and his determination. "Then there were parts that were gifts from God." 

Last April, when the home officially opened, Marx and others were just trying to find enough money to pay for much-needed improvements to the home and keep up with bills and food. 

But Marx -- and the all-volunteer board he selected to oversee the home's operation -- didn't realize how hard it would be to maintain planning and keep up with the day-to-day operation of a place serving an unpredictable population. 

Although the community came to the home's aid several times, Marx himself was worn down by the constant need to prop up the fledgling project. 

He had to issue drug tests, kick out people who were using -- and try to drum up support. At one point, Marx had to "go begging" to donors to pay monthly utility bills and the mortgage. He also tried to help get improvements to the home, including plumbing work, a more efficient hot-water system and electrical work. 

In the middle of the day-to-day scrounging, Marx learned that the state was going to cut him off from prescriptions that help steady his long bout with depression. On top of that, he was going through a divorce. 

When things were at their worst, Marx and other house dwellers would arrive at Bellingham's Kentucky Fried Chicken at night and take the bagged, unused food discarded in a big trash can, he said. 

Eventually he simply went to his upstairs room at Half-Way Home and used prescription drugs to try to "self-medicate," he said. He also dabbled in heroin and cocaine -- doing each of the illegal drugs once, he said. 

In August, friends encouraged him to seek help. He decided to go into treatment in September through a state-sponsored program. 

It was his third relapse since he started doing drugs as a youngster. Marx, himself a drug and alcohol counselor and former Whatcom County tobacco prevention advocate, knew he had to become sober again if he were to take control of the home he fought so desperately to start. 

But coming back to Half-Way Home after undergoing intense treatment was another test of strength, he said. 

While he was gone, the home lacked financial leadership and was in disarray. He returned to a $950 electric bill, a $350 gas bill and a $400 telephone bill in his name, he said. 

Marx quickly started looking for a job to catch up with the payments and keep the home from closing. One positive was that the former owner of the house let supporters pay back loans as they could, Marx said. 

Then Marx landed a counseling job at a Monroe correctional facility, earning enough in a month of work to get the home back on track by paying utilities and other outstanding bills, he said. 

The focus of the house also changed, he said. Instead of helping those specifically trying to kick the immediate effects of heroin use, supporters are now using the home as a safe haven before and after treatment. 

Marx is a changed man, said Kathy Dube, a house volunteer. "I have more faith in where James is at now than when we started this," she said. "James has got it under control." 

Marx needs to create a board of community members with strong leadership, not just recovering addicts, said Whatcom County Sheriff Dale Brandland. 

Brandland learned about Marx's drug relapse when Marx approached Trillium Safe Community Foundation asking the foundation to reinstate funding, he said. 

"Once an addict, always an addict," Brandland said. "Just because someone relapses, you don't just pull the rug out from under them. We certainly recognize the value of what's going on." 

Marx said he knows that his relapse created rumors about the home and put into question its strict policy against drug use in the home. He has even created a new admission policy that is strictly policed, under which those who "use" are forced to leave. 

At no time did Half-Way Home become a "shooting gallery," he said, contrary to gossip circulating in the community after his relapse. 

He has extended an open invitation for anyone -- including law enforcement and state corrections officers -- to tour the home and see what people are doing first-hand. Few people have taken him up on the offer, he said. 

If they could just see the way the home is helping people, they would see how worthwhile a place it is for the community, he said. "It has been an intense year," Marx said. "We're in better shape than we were in before and we've helped a lot of people."