Wednesday, January 15, 2003 10:38:03 AM
Once an addict, she now helps others
By M.L. LYKE
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER
The emaciated teen ran after Lynn Eul's car yelling "Wait! Help me! Help me!"
The 16-year-old boy had been up for eight or nine days, and hadn't eaten in four, she says. He was picking at his skin. He'd been missing school.
P-I
Eul
Eul, who'd just given a talk on methamphetamine addiction to a Granite Falls High School assembly, knew a tweaker -- a meth user -- when she saw one. The youth addiction specialist used to be one.
The assembly, and a group of mocking boys who sat at the back of it talking about getting high, made a January Rolling Stone magazine story on meth. The running boy didn't make the story, nor did his desperate plea to Eul to help him stop using.
"The story made the assembly look like a failure," said the Edmonds mother of three. It is one of the few complaints Eul has with the wrenching story of meth's march into the rural heartlands of America, a story that features the self-described "sick tale" of her troubled past prominently.
Eul, who has served as a youth, violence and drug prevention coordinator for the Snohomish County Prosecutor's Office for three years, says she started drinking at age 11. Through high school in Shoreline, she pulled good grades and was elected student body president. But she was also popping amphetamine pills and sloshing vodka. By the end of high school, she would be voted "the least likely to be seen in class."
When she took her first hit off a crack pipe, she was 18, with a new daughter. Within months, she'd hit the streets in Los Angeles, dealing and doing 10-20 "rocks a day."
She gradually moved from crack to less expensive meth. The crack high had lasted 20 minutes, the meth kept her up seven to eight days. She became paranoid and started seeing things. She didn't eat. She scratched at herself.
"With meth, I did not feel normal. I felt agitated and scared," says Eul.
When her family finally got her into treatment -- threatening to take her daughter away -- she was down to nearly 90 pounds. This 5-foot-3 woman with the smart, frosted hair and perfect makeup has been sober 15 years.
At first, she says, she dedicated her life to helping addicts for the people she'd left behind on the streets.
Then she did it for her children.
Now, she says, she does it for everybody's children.
She estimates she has done 100 interventions for addicts of all ages. "It's moved from college age, to high school, to junior high," she says. "Now we're seeing kids using at 12- 13."
Excel
Release the past; enjoy the present; embrace the future!
By M.L. LYKE
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER REPORTER
The emaciated teen ran after Lynn Eul's car yelling "Wait! Help me! Help me!"
The 16-year-old boy had been up for eight or nine days, and hadn't eaten in four, she says. He was picking at his skin. He'd been missing school.
P-I
Eul
Eul, who'd just given a talk on methamphetamine addiction to a Granite Falls High School assembly, knew a tweaker -- a meth user -- when she saw one. The youth addiction specialist used to be one.
The assembly, and a group of mocking boys who sat at the back of it talking about getting high, made a January Rolling Stone magazine story on meth. The running boy didn't make the story, nor did his desperate plea to Eul to help him stop using.
"The story made the assembly look like a failure," said the Edmonds mother of three. It is one of the few complaints Eul has with the wrenching story of meth's march into the rural heartlands of America, a story that features the self-described "sick tale" of her troubled past prominently.
Eul, who has served as a youth, violence and drug prevention coordinator for the Snohomish County Prosecutor's Office for three years, says she started drinking at age 11. Through high school in Shoreline, she pulled good grades and was elected student body president. But she was also popping amphetamine pills and sloshing vodka. By the end of high school, she would be voted "the least likely to be seen in class."
When she took her first hit off a crack pipe, she was 18, with a new daughter. Within months, she'd hit the streets in Los Angeles, dealing and doing 10-20 "rocks a day."
She gradually moved from crack to less expensive meth. The crack high had lasted 20 minutes, the meth kept her up seven to eight days. She became paranoid and started seeing things. She didn't eat. She scratched at herself.
"With meth, I did not feel normal. I felt agitated and scared," says Eul.
When her family finally got her into treatment -- threatening to take her daughter away -- she was down to nearly 90 pounds. This 5-foot-3 woman with the smart, frosted hair and perfect makeup has been sober 15 years.
At first, she says, she dedicated her life to helping addicts for the people she'd left behind on the streets.
Then she did it for her children.
Now, she says, she does it for everybody's children.
She estimates she has done 100 interventions for addicts of all ages. "It's moved from college age, to high school, to junior high," she says. "Now we're seeing kids using at 12- 13."
Excel
Release the past; enjoy the present; embrace the future!
Join the InvestorsHub Community
Register for free to join our community of investors and share your ideas. You will also get access to streaming quotes, interactive charts, trades, portfolio, live options flow and more tools.
