A tragic epidemic…

When I first saw the story about the Horace woman who hid a broken meth pipe in her vagina, I thought of the dozens of quips I could offer in such a situation.  But then I looked at the young woman’s age and her photo and I lost my ability to see the humor in the situation.  The young woman was arrested and charged with felony possession of drug paraphernalia. Her story left me sad and frustrated at the impact meth has on people’s lives.  It is so incredibly addictive and toxic.

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Jeana Marie Smart

Jeana is young – 26 to be exact.  She needs help…she needs help now.  And there are so many others like her who are living with meth addictions who also need help now.  This is a tragic epidemic and we are losing so many people – people that once had hopes, dreams, and bright futures.  It is heartbreaking.

There has to be a better way to deal with meth than what we have been doing.  We have brilliant minds in this world analyzing and solving complex problems with their genius, surely there is someone out there who has some innovative idea about how we turn the tide on this epidemic.  We must be able to do more.

Look at Jeana.  Beyond her mugshot are the broken hearts of her family and friends who are not able to help her.  All their efforts and prayers litter the landscape of Jeana’s life like a thousand pieces of crumbled paper, but all Jeana can see, think about, or live for is the drug that has her life in a choke-hold.  This young woman needs help more than persecution.

I hope things work out for Jeana.  I know that Jeana’s life is not my business, but I cannot rid myself of the lingering notion that Jeana and others like her belong to all of us.  They are the victims of a societal scourge that we have not addressed.  There are thousands of Jeanas out there being eaten alive and every day more enter the dark downward spiral that meth brings into addicts’ lives.   That is the real crime in my mind – the fact that we are letting this drug take these folks away from being productive members of society.   That crime certainly deserves more attention than a meth pipe hidden in a vagina.

Day one thousand two hundred and fifty of the new forty – obla di obla da

Ms. C

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About Ms. C

I teach at NDSU...but I remain a student of life with all the enthusiasm that entails. My favorite saying is, "Sometimes you have to take the leap and build your wings on the way down." In the new forty that is what I am doing...building my wings.
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2 Responses to A tragic epidemic…

  1. Katherine says:

    I often remember when the Cass County deputy sheriff spoke to our Lion’s Club about meth. He said the first high is wonderful and can never happen again. Addicts spend their lives trying to find that high spot again. Lost love.

  2. tim haering says:

    Empty spirits, hollow souls. Drug users and abusers are scraping for something, anything to fill their empty spirits and hollow souls. Yet every solution to every drug problem ever concocted concerns limiting access to the drugs, criminalizing sale and use. Why? Simple. It’s something they can do something about. Fill someone else’s empty spirit? They are most of them at half empty themselves. Or is that half full? They struggle to fill their own souls, how can they ever hope to fill someone else’s? I have over half a lifetime filled mine with music, with God, with work and other satisfying things. But it takes discipline – something almost no one appears to have and something you cannot acquire – either you got it or you don’t. And you cannot be someone else’s discipline.

    It was hard, REAL DAMN HARD, remains hard, to fill my own spirit and keep it full. And if you spin me around a few times, like a charmed quark, you’ll see plenty of holes in my soul that you don’t see or suspect from the front. I’m not even sure all the time whether I’m maple or veneer.

    I don’t want to sound hopeless. But I think it is simply part of the human condition. IT spans time and space, age and gender, wealth and rank. Those empty souls are everywhere you look.

    We are stardust, we are golden, we got caught in the Devil’s bargain,
    And we got to get ourselves back to the Garden.

    There it is. Wrapped up like a deuce, another runner in the night.

    All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
    All the lonely people, where do they all belong?

    Every vagina-stuffing meth head starts as a innocent, helpless child.

    And nobody has the time to look at the great design
    they’re all from the same bloodline —
    violent men, hard-headed women, unloved children.
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbjdpG0jP3c

    Love those children like it’s our only chance in Hell!

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