FORMER METH ADDICT RECALLS TOUGH RECOVERY

David Mclemore knows the road of methamphetamine addiction, and now
counsels drug addicts and serves on Watauga County's meth task force.

Mclemore, who currently serves as director of public relations for First
Things First, said he first used meth 25 years ago "back when drugs were
real drugs." He drove a truck for a Johnson City, Tenn., company, and the
boss would "give everyone lines of meth before starting work."

Mclemore said the drug made him feel like Superman, and gave him
self-confidence and a feeling of self-worth. He also seemed to get more
work done, pushing himself to work harder.

He got his first inkling that the drug was damaging him when he was loading
his own truck in Knoxville. Seven men were bringing him cargo and he was
keeping up with them. He got a sharp pain in his neck and went to the
emergency room, and the doctors told him he was literally moving so fast he
had moved his neck in two directions at once.

Even after that, Mclemore returned to the drug. "You don't eat, you don't
sleep," he said. "You get so wound up. You go from zero to immediate panic.
That's why it's so dangerous for police officers, because they (meth users)
can't process what's going on. They immediately go into panic mode."

Mclemore, now 48, said the drug wrecked his teeth and "really messed up my
thought processes." He had another work injury. After that, he realized he
couldn't keep up the addiction.

During that time, he was also drinking and smoking marijuana. But instead
of quitting drugs altogether, he shifted to cocaine, which gave him some of
the same energy as meth but also brought on the same lows and depression.

"When you come down, you do enough alcohol and other kinds of dope and
you'll come out of that sooner or later," he said.

When he was 34, he made his first stay in a treatment center. That was
after three divorces and losing a number of jobs as well as his two
children not wanting to associate with him.

He stayed in the treatment program for 28 days. "They told me everything I
needed to hear. But my belief system was I could go out and do drugs and
drink like normal people. 'David can handle things David's way.'" But it's
a progressive disease.

Mclemore said one of the tricks of treatment or temporary abstinence is
that tolerance drops for a few days, so that it takes less drugs for the
same effect. However, within a couple of weeks, it takes more drugs than
were used before the treatment.

"It takes only a few days to get right back where you were," he said. "A
week after treatment, you're using more of all of them."

Mclemore still didn't get the wake-up call. He tried to commit suicide and
wrecked his truck, but didn't realize what he had done until he was told
afterward.

He went to a treatment center in Texas determined to take a serious
approach. "I had to walk through feelings and emotions that were not nice
or OK. They didn't sugarcoat it. They told me it' s the hardest thing
you've ever done in your life. They told me the truth, and I respected them
for that."

He said no counselor can tell who's going to stay clean after treatment.
Mclemore said he wanted to make a commitment with the same fervor he'd put
into acquiring and using drugs.

"I did whatever it took to get dope," he said. "I put the same philosophy
into treatment."

He notes that his "clean date" is January 12, 1990. He recalled the day
before he entered the program, he went to a motel room with a six-pack of
beer and marijuana. He drank beers and smoked a half of a joint, his way of
saying goodbye to his former life.

"When you say goodbye to drugs and alcohol, it's like saying goodbye to an
old friend," he said. "It was a very dysfunctional and destructive
friendship for me, but it was still there. I said, 'I've had enough of your
lies and manipulating me.' I laid it down and never picked it up again."

After the treatment program, he went to school and earned his counselor's
license. While he's waiting to get his license transferred, he gives
presentations to churches, schools and civic groups.

"When you get out in the community, people are shocked (about the amount of
drug use), and I'm like 'Do you know how long drugs have been in your
community?'"

He said drug fads come and go. Now meth use grabs the headlines. "It will
die down, but that doesn't mean the addiction goes away," he said. "It's
still here, families still get broken up, but people don't want to know."

Mclemore believes prevention is the key to heading off addiction. Criminal
punishment is often a case of attacking the problem too late.

Mclemore has distributed over 10,000 brochures, though he knows many of
them will be thrown away.

"We're hoping to reach that one person," he said. "You cannot put a value
on a human life."

Mclemore also believes prevention programs are more economical, especially
when the cost of social services and programs is included, as well as lost
worker productivity and inmate care.

"We know you recover from drugs if certain things are done," he said. "You
hear a lot of myths and misconceptions. They say five to six percent of
meth addicts recover, but who knows how many of them never go into treatment?"

Treatment does have a place. It depends on where the person is at in their
life.

He said finding support for users is essential in their recovery. "Meth
addicts have such a strong urge to use, they have to have long-term
support," he said. "In my career, I've found a probation officer or parole
officer will work with a treatment provider. We have to stop the recidivism
rate. That means we're going to have to start doing something different."

A major issue is the emotional and physical damage to children who grow up
in meth homes.

"Families is where the damage is being done. Where do we lose control of
what happens to the children? For every addict out there using, he affects
five people in a negative way. That same person clean can affect five
people in a positive way."

He said treatment options are about making better choices, and providing
education to users and the community at large so everyone understands the
problem.

"We do this because we believe in it," Mclemore said. "I've yet to have
somebody walk into my office and say, 'David, I do dope and my life is
wonderful.'"