Jeff Ackerman: A mom battles to beat her meth addiction

I first met Natalie Wilson last week when she came into the office with a letter to the editor thanking an anonymous donor for helping get her life back together. Her clear, blue eyes were penetrating, as were the words she spoke of a near lifetime of addiction.

Had I gone searching for a methamphetamine addict, I would never have given Natalie a second glance. She looked nothing like the police mug shot we published of her earlier this year, when she was booked into jail for allegedly possessing drugs and stolen property.

And that's the point, really. This drug that continues to tear at the fabric of rural America has many faces. And in order to see it ... to fight it ... we need to open our eyes ... and our souls ... a little wider.

In that brief encounter last week, Natalie cautioned me against stereotyping meth users in my periodic crusade to rid our community of the drug.

Her story is testimony to that.

Natalie has lived 26 of her 35 years in Nevada County, leaving briefly when she was 17 to get clean in Idaho. She's been trying to get and stay clean ever since and understands her battle to do that will last the rest of her life.

"I was 16 years old and working in a crisis center, taking drug crisis calls while I was loaded on meth," she recalled on Sunday, having signed out for a couple of hours from her temporary lodging at a Community Recovery Resources' treatment home in Grass Valley. An anonymous donor has paid her $500-per-month fee through December, which is why Natalie and her 16-year-old daughter are not on the streets.

Natalie was clean when she gave birth to her daughter and stayed clean for a dozen years, working as a nurse's assistant at Sierra Nevada Memorial Hospital and serving double duty as a troop leader and volunteer in her daughter's classroom.

"I worked all of the '12 Steps' and thought I was recovered," she said. "I didn't realize I was still an addict. I didn't think I would ever use again, that I was above all of that."

Natalie injured her back, and before she knew it, she was addicted to pain pills.

She and her husband (who is in jail today) battled their pain-pill addiction for years, even locking themselves in a Tahoe cabin for several days in a futile effort to get clean. "One day I was using the pain pills for my back and the next I was a full-blown addict," she recalls. "There was no warning. That's the scary part. We both knew better. It would have been easier to explain had we been born into an addictive family. It was painful. Every day we'd promise it was our last day. We meant it and wanted it, but we just weren't there yet."

Then along came methamphetamine, a synthetic drug that some consider one of the most addictive and physically debilitating drugs of all.

"It (meth) just presented itself," she said. "Somebody came over who mentioned that we ought to try it. Our first response was 'not a chance in hell.' We talked about it some more and I said to my husband, 'how could you even consider something like that?' We knew what would happen, that we'd lose our jobs, our house, our faith, our children, our self respect, our integrity, our self worth, become dishonest and then we'll lose each other and our freedom."

That's exactly what happened. Their Nevada City home was raided last February and they were arrested. "They came into our house (guns drawn), found drugs and stolen property," said Natalie, who is out on bail and awaiting a trial in February.

A month later she was arrested again. "I was pretty much homeless and my daughter had run away," she said. "I was sleeping in my Jeep at Condon Park or in church parking lots. I was loaded when the cops pulled up on me."

Natalie had finally hit the bottom so many drug addicts eventually long for. "I had just had enough," she said. "I was so glad to know that I was finally there."

That was June 14, a date Natalie recited instantly, when I asked. Addicts measure life with an hourglass. Natalie had been clean for 112 days when I spoke with her Sunday.

I met with Natalie because I'm rooting for her and her daughter. I really believe the best way to win this war on meth is through small victories. The folks at Community Recovery Resources (under the direction of executive director Warren Daniels) know that all too well. Natalie and her daughter are living in one of two transitional houses, and they probably need to stay there for at least six months for the program to really work. "They say I would benefit from a one-year out-patient program," said Natalie. "To me, that's more important than food."

Natalie will start classes at Sierra College in a couple of weeks and is looking forward to perhaps pursuing a career as a bookkeeper.

But first she must face her demons. "I have to be reminded every day that I am an addict," she said. "And I will need to do that for the rest of my life."

Over the past couple of years I've heard from a few of you asking how you can help in this fight against methamphetamines. I can't think of a better way than to support Community Recovery Resources (273-9541). That's where Natalie, her daughter and a handful of others are making a desperate fight for life. That's where the talk stops and the action begins.

I think it's a righteous cause, deserving of as much support as this caring community can muster.

Please help.



<I>Jeff Ackerman is the publisher of The Union. His column appears on Tuesdays. Contact him at 477-4299, jeffa@theunion.com, or 464 Sutton Way, Grass Valley 95945.</I>