RECOVERING METH ADDICT RECALLS TOUGH RECOVERY

David Mclemore knows the road of methamphetamine
addiction, and now counsels drug addicts and serves on the 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 okay. 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 good-bye to his former life.

"When you say good-bye to drugs and alcohol, it's like saying good-bye
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 who long drugs have
been in your community?"

He said drug fads come and go, like the recent attention given to 5.
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.'"