Meth Anne: A long life lived in a short time …
by Rev. Jimmy Vaughn

Our lives have a natural order to them. We are born and grow from helplessness to independence. Babies become children, children become young adults, and young adults live, love, and experience all that life has for them.

But when this order is altered or ends prematurely, it leaves us deeply saddened and filled with questions—one of the largest being “What if?” We cannot help but wonder what a young life might have accomplished. These are the questions we are left with following the all-too-premature death of Meth Anne.

Her life began with the disadvantage of having a drug-addicted mother. Meth Anne’s early childhood was difficult. Her mother’s addiction caused her to neglect Meth Anne and exposed her to very adult situations. Her mother’s constant search for love, peace, and her next fix meant Meth Anne was moved from place to place. Her life was filled with unkept promises. She quickly learned not to trust.

Meth Anne’s first encounter with drugs came at the hand of her own mother when she furnished them in utero to her unborn daughter. Later, in an effort to buy herself some free time so she could use drugs herself, Meth Anne’s mother gave her a small dose “just to help her sleep.”

Later as a young girl, Meth Anne accidentally overdosed on pills she found lying around her home. As a preteen, Meth Anne began to notice and comprehend the drug use in her home. The seeming pleasure it offered caused her to sample drugs just to see for herself what it felt like. She experienced the false sense of euphoria and the feeling of being able to escape her difficult life for a short while.

What she did not realize was the drugs had begun to sew themselves into her heart, mind and body. She quickly progressed from sampler to regular user. Her needs quickly drove her to harder and harder drugs.

The fatal blow came when she experienced methamphetamine, or “meth,” bringing her full circle to the very substance her mother had introduced her to while she was still in the womb. Her addiction quickly seized control of her life, taking her to dangerous places and other desperate people.

In order to feed her addiction, she found herself stealing—even from friends. When she could no longer steal to support her habit, she traded on only thing she had—her body. The wasteland that her life had become drove her into an ever-deepening depression.

Her answer to the pain was to stay “up,” which required larger amounts and longer periods of drug use. Sadly, Meth Anne took her last “trip” one sunny afternoon when her heart simply failed. She died in the back room of a deserted, fetid house not far from the place she was born. Her short, pain-filled life was officially reduced to that of a statistic.