NOT EVEN 'THE GOOD LIFE' A SHIELD AGAINST METH ABUSE

Recently, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution published a series of
articles on the abuse of methamphetamines. The in-depth reporting
pleased me. But the focus remained on what most readers will consider
"marginal" people --- folks who are products of broken homes, single
mothers, poor education or sexual abuse.

No matter the good intentions, as long as stories are about people
perceived as lower on the socioeconomic scale, the public will miss
the vastness of this problem. People in the middle and upper classes
will continue to delude themselves that drug addiction is the scourge
of the lower classes and minorities.

They will comment on the stories to their co-workers, shake their
heads about the plight of the poor and misguided and continue to
ignore the crisis in their homes and schools.

Our 19-year-old son is a meth addict and has used drugs since about
age 12. We don't live in a neighborhood perceived as drug-or
crime-infested --- in fact, our son attended schools in the Parkview
school district, touted as one of the finest in the state.

My husband and I are upper middle income, with excellent
post-secondary educations. Our children have never even seen us drink,
and we never allowed alcohol in our home. We've never resorted to
physical violence with any members of our family, nor have our
children suffered sexual abuse.

Despite all these outward trappings of a "good" family, our son uses
drugs. Despite our efforts, including counseling, therapy,
antidepressants, inpatient and outpatient drug rehabilitations,
"tough" love, unconditional love and a variety of other methods, our
son uses drugs. Despite all our seemingly endless indicators of living
"the good life," our son uses drugs.

Our son is in jail for the third time in three years. He recently
passed his third consecutive birthday in jail. He has spent the past
three Mother's Days and the past three Christmases in jail, too.

I know plenty of other parents, some wealthier than us, some poorer,
who have lived the same nightmares, and some far worse. At the same
time, I've met countless parents, some in worse situations, but most
in better, who live in denial about their child's drug problems.

While admirable in their attempt to enlighten the public, stories
about drug abuse perpetuate the stereotypes that make most of us
comfortable to just read about these tragedies. We can keep believing
that these things happen to people who somehow deserve what has
happened to them because of a bad upbringing, poor education or
general weakness of character.

Drug addiction is one of the most serious problems our society faces.
It affects more people than stories can ever highlight. For every
addict, there's a family somewhere, suffering in silence. Whatever
their socioeconomic background, they all feel the same pain. That
makes us alike, despite our differences.

When you hold your newborn child for the first time, you see that
perfect, tiny face and imagine all the wonderful things he will do.
You do not see a 19-year-old drug addict, eyes unfocused as he rifles
through your purse while you're sleeping.

What happens to my son continues to unfold, and I am powerless to stop
it. I cannot stop the car wreck that he makes of his life. I can only
hope for better, and refuse to watch the spectacle. I can continue to
love him in my heart, and hate the thing that owns his soul and powers
his thoughts and actions.

I don't know all the answers. I've spent years studying drug addiction
and learning from the experience of others. But pretending it only
happens to the disadvantaged isn't an answer. Warehousing addicts
without long-term treatment and support isn't an answer.

Offering treatment and absolution only to the rich and famous isn't an
answer. Spending days and nights feeling like the walking dead, as I
often do, isn't an answer. And living with the endless pain of a loved
one's' addiction isn't an answer, either. Not for me.