Beyond Addiction

The Focus treatment facility at St. Joseph's Medical Center in Brainerd, Minn., held a party for itself last week to mark 25 years of service to people addicted to alcohol and other drugs.

I was there, too, and I noticed almost right away that a fair number of the younger partygoers were missing teeth. But they didn't try to hide it. How could they? They were smiling too much.

No wonder they were happy; they're clean and sober. No wonder their teeth are missing; once, they were addicted to methamphetamine — a potent stimulant that, among other things, promotes rapid tooth decay in users. "Meth mouth," the experts call it.

"It's sort of like a badge of honor, proof I was a meth addict but I survived it," said Raymond, 37, who leaves his dentures at home when he attends 12-step meetings and recovery celebrations. After using methamphetamine almost every week for six years, he stumbled into treatment after a near-fatal snowmobile accident in 2005. "I lost everything except my life. I learned nothing else matters except my life. To live, I have to keep clean, work hard at sobriety, be part of the community. That's why I'm here tonight."

Like Raymond, Danielle's got plenty of room to floss. She got hooked on meth about the time she graduated from high school. She couldn't stop getting high, even after she got pregnant. She gave birth three years ago to a boy. Her bottom came when the local child welfare agency took away her son and she was arrested. She's sober now but admits she has a long way to go.

"I still only get supervised visits with my son. I don't think he knows me as his mama," Danielle said. "It's a struggle to stay away from the drugs. I've gone back to using a few times, not meth but alcohol.

Many people who reach out for help aren't really convinced they can make it, even though they are desperate. Addiction robs people of so much, including hope. But it also can twist their thinking to the point that even when they do grab on to sobriety, early on they still cannot see beyond the immediacy of their consequences. "Why bother?" is a sentiment that often leads them to give up and go back to getting high. The same hideous cycle of addiction returns, often with consequences that are even more desperate.

Dear Mr. Moyers: It's easy for you to write about the joys of recovery. You've been sober long enough to reap the windfall. What about me? I've lost it all, everything from my family and my career to my car and even my beloved companions, my two dogs! I barely can pay my rent. This all hardly seems fair. I'm clean a year next week and trying to stay that way, but I'm thinking about "celebrating" my anniversary by getting drunk. Sobriety just doesn't seem worth it. — Anne N., Warrenton, Va.

Dear Anne: I understand your desperation. But sobriety doesn't replenish the cupboard or the bank account instantly. It won't put gas in the car or mend broken relationships. It does make these things possible, however, and a lot more. Remember that a well-tended garden doesn't happen overnight. Rake the soil; remove the rocks; plant the seeds; and water the plants. Eventually, you'll see the flowers or harvest the vegetables. Hang in there. But don't take my word for it; the proof is in the faces of people like Raymond and Danielle. There is a lot more to their smiles than those missing teeth.

William C. Moyers is the vice president of external affairs for the Hazelden Foundation and the author of "Broken," his best-selling memoirs. Please send your questions to William Moyers at William@WilliamMoyers.com. To find out more about William Moyers and read his past columns, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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