ONE WOMAN'S STRUGGLE WITH METHAMPHETAMINE

It's a sunny, spring afternoon. Deborah Moss, 32, looks like an
average mother, outside playing with her kids. The tall blonde wears
a purple blouse, jeans and an easy smile, especially around Xavier,
7, and Briana, 6.

But Moss remembers when a sunny day didn't mean much-except a chance
to sit indoors with the shades drawn and catch her next high.

Moss was addicted to drugs for more than half of her young life. She
took her first hit of acid when she was 14, and continued to use
cocaine, crack and marijuana for years. But it wasn't until her
father introduced her to something called Methamphetamine that her
life completely spiraled out of control.

"It was the day of my daughter's second birthday, in 2001," said
Moss. "My father brought it over. I didn't know what was in meth, I
thought it was just cocaine or something."

Moss had mixed feelings about the drug from the beginning. "At first
I thought, wow, this is kind of cool," she said.

But after inhaling more meth, she had a hard time breathing, her
hands felt heavy, and her skin turned gray. Her father told her to
eat a banana and drink some milk.

Moss remembers grabbing a bucket of water and a washcloth and
drenching her skin. She saw small particles of something in the palms
of her hands and coming off her skin into the water.

"I thought it was a hallucination. I called and asked my father what
was in it," she said. "He said, 'lithium batteries.'"

Moss immediately threw all of the drugs in the house away and stated
she was never going to use again. Three days later she was high on meth.

Nothing else mattered

Meth is different than other drugs, because it consumes your entire
life, said Moss. She immediately lost sight of her morals, her values
and her desire to be a good mother.

"With meth, nothing else mattered. My husband, my kids. It was my
god," she said. "I spent hours and hours in my room just smoking."

Moss lost so much weight her ribs would stick out, her body always
ached and there were permanent black bags around her eyes. And those
were just the physical effects.

Her personality completely changed. "I wish I had words for it. I was
always paranoid, jittery, could never focus. I would go in my kids'
room and make sure nobody stole them, I was sure someone was trying
to kidnap my kids."

After being high and awake for two or three days in a row, the
hallucinations would start, said Moss. One night, she watched demons
come out of her living room floor.

"The kids knew something was wrong with me. I couldn't think straight
or focus, I would yell at them. Xavier was 3 and Briana 2 at the
time," she said. Xavier used to have a hard time paying attention,
something Moss thinks he picked up from her.

Like most meth users, Moss' body would eventually crash, and she
would be unable to function for several days.

At first, Moss told everyone she was in control and she could stop.
Then one night, while she was high, her husband started to beat her.
She immediately decided to get her and the kids out. Looking for a
better environment, they moved to Rochester.

"That didn't help. Two doors down my dad was cooking meth," she said.

Just three months later, on Nov. 21, 2001, Moss was arrested for
dealing meth and marijuana. She was sentenced to 15 years in jail and
was sent to Rockville Correctional Facility in Terre Haute.

The way back

Moss served three years in prison. There, she read a book, "Meth =
Sorcery, Know the Truth", by Steve Box. The book completely changed
her life. She became more educated on the drug and her addiction.

"I prayed the whole time I was incarcerated that God would use me.
Just because we're addicts, doesn't mean we're bad people," she said.

It took her nine months to set it up, but Moss became the first
person to be baptized inside the prison. "But after prison, I was
scared to leave, scared to go back to the same things," she said.

After Moss was released from prison, she ended up in Rochester again.
She started looking for a support group to join, but couldn't find
one anywhere.

She asked Wade Moss, pastor of the Promise Land Church, if she could
start a support group in the church basement. When the group needed
some funding, she asked him if the church could help, and the two
started working together.

They've been married since August, 2005.

The Meth Anonymous Support Group meets once a week, and usually has
about nine members, said Moss. "I think a lot of these people do want
help, but there are no resources out there. This was not hard for me
to set up. There needs to be more programs out there."

Moss has also been speaking about meth at churches and schools in the
area. She has cardboard displays that depict her struggle with meth,
and the physical effects of the drug. "Education is key. The kids are
so curious and just amazed by the pictures. Schools need to make
these kids more aware," she said. "Xavier brought home a pamphlet
from school about drugs and meth wasn't even mentioned."

She also reads the newspaper to see who has been arrested for meth,
so she can mail the jail a copy of the book that changed her life.
Between running the support group, working full-time in Fulton and
teaching Sunday School, Moss is also in the middle of obtaining her GED.

"I want to be a drug counselor. And I will be," she said. "I just
know this is the calling of my life." Moss also wants to write a book
about her experiences.

Meth has destroyed Moss' family. Her dad is in jail, her cousin died
from using and all of her brothers have been addicted, she said. Moss
doesn't know what her fate would have been if she hadn't gone to
jail, she added.

"I hate what it's done to my family and me. I hate drugs. It's an
epidemic, I truly, truly, believe that," she said. "It takes a
third-grader to make meth, what does that tell you. It's not rocket science."

Moss does not have full custody of her kids, but she spends time with
them whenever she can, she said. They know that she was in prison,
and that she was addicted to drugs, she said.

Moss plans to continue to reach out to meth addicts. "If I can reach
just one person, if I can make one person aware of this drug, my job
is done," she said. "I look at a day like today, and I can't wait to
get outside. Life just seems normal now."