MOM BATTLES BACK FROM METH ADDICTION TO SAVE HER FAMILY

WEST POINT -- Now that she's clean and sober, one of the things that
amazes Angie Barfuss is the amount of effort she used to put into her
meth use. Jeffrey D. Allred, Deseret Morning NewsAngie Barfuss, who
recently finished her drug treatment program, sits with one of her
daughters, Sydney, in West Point.

"Drug addiction is like a job -- it takes all your time," the
33-year-old mother of four says now. "You have to make the call, get
the money, get the hook-up, drive to get it and do the drug." She's
also stunned at how deluded she was. She didn't even see what her
two-year bout of methamphetamine addiction was doing to every aspect
of her life. She could be malnourished and haggard, but thought she
looked slim and pretty. She was a frenzied whirl of activity and
truly believed all her divorced-mom "multi-tasking" was helping her
children. "I thought I was Supermom," she said. "For two years, I was
probably incoherent, but I thought I was a good mom." She was wrong.

After each high wore off, she crashed into a long, coma-like sleep.
The house was a mess. Her children, now ranging in age from 5 to 13,
foraged for themselves for food, were routinely late to school and
basically just ignored. Barfuss shudders now at the unsavory "baby
sitters" she would leave the children with to score drugs, but at the
time, it all made sense to her. It was only after some tough love
from her own mother, Joanne Pro, that things changed. Her mother
turned Barfuss in to the Division of Children and Family Services for
drug use. After a hair follicle test revealed the presence of meth,
Barfuss lost custody of her children. Her mom took them in rather
than have them go into foster care, and Barfuss agreed to get them
back by going through drug court. Even then, Barfuss admits she was
lying to herself, privately insisting she didn't really have a
problem. She figured she could bluff her way through it. Wrong again.

Everything changed, Barfuss said, when she embarked on the rigorous
work that drug court demands. She was forced to admit she really was
an addict -- just like all the others -- and she struggled to gain
the necessary tools to become a recovering addict and stay clean. Her
slide into addiction had happened subtly, but with terrifying speed.
She had smoked some pot and drank liquor in high school, but wasn't
doing anything like that when she ran into some old friends who
offered her meth to snort. At the time, her beloved father had died
and she figured this was a quick way to ease the pain. "I was so
depressed," she said. "When I did meth, it numbed me. I didn't feel a
thing." Drug experts insist methamphetamine is an unusually addictive
drug and even dabbling once or twice can yank some people into the
morass of abuse. Barfuss was one of those. Unlike many drug court
participants, she was not charged with a crime (police raided the
house, but didn't find enough evidence to make a case), so no
criminal penalties were hanging over her head. She was, however,
highly motivated to get her kids back. In her West Point home
recently, she pulls out a huge folder crammed with homework
assignments required by one of her counselors -- everything from a
self-evaluation to a relapse plan to a list of self-defeating
behaviors. Among other things, she had to identify what triggers
relapses for her, and learn to make time for herself to relax and
stay balanced. One of her greatest problems, Barfuss discovered, was
that even before she became an addict, she lied constantly because
she didn't feel good enough compared to other people. She thought she
had to live up to an image of Perfect Wife, Perfect Mom, Perfect
Person -- and when that didn't work, she would fake it. Her drug
court program was demanding, including regular individual and family
counseling, twice-weekly group substance abuse counseling, attendance
at two different 12-step programs, random urine tests, weekly court
appearances and community service. Barfuss had only limited and
supervised visits with her children at first, and they also got
counseling. As Barfuss began showing more responsibility and doing
better in the program, her visit time gradually increased and
eventually she was allowed to take them home for an 80-day trial
period that was successful. (A former husband has full custody of one
child, although Barfuss now has regained regular visitation rights.)
Most people spend about two years in drug court, although some can
finish a few months earlier. A handful of people continue in drug
court for as long as four years. Barfuss whipped through the program
in less than a year. What motivated her?

"My family," she said. "I missed my children." She also had a solid
support system.

Just before she lost her kids, Barfuss was remarried to a man named
Joe Barfuss, who she says understood that she had serious problems.
"He's very supportive; he stuck by me." Her extended family,
including her brother, Dee Pro, and his wife, Anna, and their young
daughter, Leta, also were there for her. Barfuss also was pleasantly
surprised to get encouragement from 2nd District Juvenile Judge
Kathleen Nelson, who supervised Barfuss' progress and had the power
to jail Barfuss for three days if she relapsed. "She was awesome,"
Barfuss says.

Barfuss said she never once slipped and did drugs, finished all the
required work and proudly graduated from drug court May 23 with her
family, including her overjoyed mother, in attendance. "My Mom cried
at court and was very happy. She said, 'I have my daughter back,' "
Barfuss recalls. Pulling herself out of the pit was a chore, but well
worth it. Today, her children are home, her marriage is happy, the
house is clean, and Barfuss herself looks healthy and attractive,
with a ready smile and no trace of the formerly rail-thin,
sunken-eyed lost soul she once was. The future looks bright. "I will
work on my recovery the rest of my life," Barfuss said. Once her
youngest is in school full time, Barfuss plans to find work with
handicapped children or adults, and is considering going back to
school. Her children were taken from her July 1, 2005.

So what's in store for July 1, 2006? "We're going camping as a family
and celebrate," Barfuss said. "I'm going to ask my mom to be there
and Dee and Anna. I have a family."