Pubdate: Sun, 01 Apr 2007 Source: Mail Tribune, The (Medford, OR) Copyright: 2007 The Mail Tribune Contact: http://www.mailtribune.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/642 Note: Only prints LTEs from within it's circulation area, 200 word count limit Author: Sarah Lemon, Mail Tribune STARTING OVER Medford Woman Turns Her Life Around After Years Of Addiction EDITOR'S NOTE: This is the 12th in a series of stories on addicts recovering from meth use. The stories run on the first Sunday of each month. Disguised as a benign mood-booster, drugs first entered Cerella Powell's life by way of her mother. At 14, Powell struggled to balance school, chores and a dysfunctional home life in Rogue River. Diet pills, Powell's mother promised, would give her daughter energy. "I was able to do all the work around the house ... and my homework," Powell, 49, said. "A lot of the belief back then was if it was prescription, it was OK." But the pills -- Dexedrine -- contained amphetamine, a stimulant similar to methamphetamine. Meth eventually cost Powell jobs, homes, relationships and more than two decades of living before she found her life's purpose coaching other recovering addicts. "Addiction is a cunning disease," she said. "It becomes a way of life." Then known as "crank," meth became Powell's drug of choice in her early 20s after teenage years spent dabbling in amphetamine, LSD, PCP and hallucinogenic mushrooms. Meth was cheaper than any other drug and induced a longer high. "There used to be tons of it around this valley," Powell said. Powell and her husband held steady jobs when snorting the powdery substance. Once her husband started injecting meth, he stopped showing up for work. Unable to pay their rent, the couple frequently moved and Powell began selling meth to make a little extra money. Her marriage of 10 years unraveled, Powell left her three children with their grandmother and set out for Portland, where she fell in with a "meth cook." The man took her along on a trip to Utah, which put up fewer roadblocks to buying the chemicals needed for manufacturing meth. But the duo was arrested there and jailed. When Powell made bail and tried to reclaim custody of her children, child welfare intervened, citing her four felony drug charges. Banking on the support back home, Powell entered treatment at OnTrack Inc. in Medford. "I thought I could do it for my kids," she said. For about a year, Powell eschewed all illegal substances, worked and secured housing. But the temptation to smoke marijuana was too much to resist, and Powell discovered she could smoke, rather than inject, another drug -- meth. Before long, she lost her job and her White City home. "I had everything going for me," she said. In an ill-fated attempt to escape meth's clutches, Powell moved back to Portland. But she started injecting meth again and found herself pregnant. Yearning to get clean, Powell still battled despair at being 40 and alone with a child on the way. She couldn't resist the drug for more than a few weeks at a time. Despite dependence on meth, Powell delivered a healthy daughter, now 7, and secured a telemarketing job in Medford. For about three years, she used the drug at breakfast before going to work. Hiding it was no longer necessary because her two oldest children also were addicts. Powell's oldest daughter, however, sought sobriety at an OnTrack residential program with her young son. Afraid of losing her grandson, Powell promised she, too, would get clean. When the promise didn't ring true, her daughter left the area, casting Powell into a depression over her grandson's departure. More meth salved the hurt. But the drug also skewed Powell's judgement and after a run-in with a co-worker, she was fired. "You just don't think rationally," she said. This time, Powell said, she couldn't bring herself "back up." She lost her home, her driver's license and her car within six months. Arrest became a monthly nuisance while she lived at a "flop house" on Medford's Haven Street. Wanted for not appearing in court on driving offenses, Powell was never found in possession of meth. One police visit, however, curtailed the cycle. Powell's youngest daughter was at risk, child welfare workers determined, and she was taken into foster care. Powell moved to a Medford homeless shelter before entering the very OnTrack program her older daughter previously completed. To avoid any barriers to reclaiming her younger daughter, Powell stayed twice as long as required. "I was like a sponge in there," she said. Her daughter came home six months later, and Powell -- a stand-out in treatment -- started doing office work at the residential program, moving to OnTrack's main office in September 2005. Powell joined the ranks of about 60 OnTrack employees in recovery, said Executive Director Rita Sullivan. "It brings an added perception," Sullivan said, adding that clients don't feel judged when staff have been in their shoes. Hoping to make a difference in the lives of younger families, Powell put in for a job at Sky Vista, a new Medford apartment complex that houses many OnTrack clients. There, Powell helps residents overcome credit difficulties and access services. She attests to nearly three drug-free years. The job had an added benefit: Forging professional partnerships with the courts, police, child welfare and probation officers reversed Powell's previous perception that society was against her. Following more than two decades on the fringes, Powell filed a tax return last month that truly reflects participation in society. The milestone, Powell said, proves "it's never too late to change your life." - --- MAP posted-by: Beth Wehrman