"Nightline" accompanied Wandzilak to the streets of San Francisco's grittiest area. The last time she was on those streets was when she was a homeless alcoholic, drug addict and small time criminal, who had run away from home.
"I feel … I feel so many things," she said, after a long pause. "I feel really uncomfortable. I feel torn. I feel, um, I'm amazed by how afraid I am … it's like a strange post-traumatic stress."
Wandzilak says that, during that time in her past, drugs and alcohol were the most important things in her life.
"I don't know how or when that happened, but it did, and it took me to my knees … I question it myself! Like, how did I slip from a million-dollar neighborhood to this? The darkest time I think I had, was when I was raped in an alley. And I was left there … Nowhere to wash myself, no warmth, nowhere to go. That was, bar none, the loneliest and emptiest, painful time of my life."
Since then, Wandzilak has devoted herself to helping the addicted, something her mother never could have imagined in those dark days when she thought she'd lost her daughter forever.
"It's amazing," said Connie Wandzilak, Kristina's mother. "And I've seen her work with people, and I've had her clients come up to me and just tell me how wonderful she was for them and their family. So, it's just amazing. It makes me really proud as a parent, for sure."
By day two of Tim's intervention, there had been a change. Compassion and concern gave way to straight, honest talk.
"My reality, after a night out with you, is I've had a horrible time, and I've been embarrassed, and I've been self-conscious, and it was stressful for four to five hours at somebody's house," Lisa said.
It was hard for Tim to hear.
"I'm very — I'm, I'm depressed about all this," he said. "And I wish I could get over that. I'm not getting any sleep, I'm not, I don't know."
Soon, he began to blame his friends for not saying something to him earlier.
"If I can express my opinion, it's people not coming to me first and say, 'Hey, Tim, turn this thing [around],'" he said.
"I don't think me talking to you would change your habits," said his friend Pete, who arranged the intervention. "I think Tom and I discussed this at lengths."
"That's absolutely wrong," Tim said, which made his friends angry.
"So, Tim, if it's helpful, we'll just all admit to have made an awful mistake," said Tim's friend Edward. "You're right, and we all made an awful mistake. We've been enabling, and we've been co-dependent! My fault, my problem, my mistake, Pete's fault, everybody's fault.
"We're not going to do that anymore! I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm just going to say it out loud," Edward added.
Wandzilak reigned things in and calmed the room, but after the midday break, Tim was a no show. As everyone waited, "Nightline's" cameras spotted him in the yard outside, talking to Wandzilak.
When he finally returned, no one was sure what to expect.
"I'm going, I'm going to that … that place," he said tearfully. "This f-ing kills me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You know it's … it's inevitable. It's something I guess I have to do."
Tim agreed to stop drinking and enter rehab.
"Well, you did the right thing," said Tim's father, Tom, embracing him. "Mom would be very proud of you."
"I wish Mom was here," said Tim.