September 16, 2000

My life as an addict began in 1975, after my husband was killed in the Viet Nam (conflict), yet we all know that it was a war in every sense of the word. He was on his 3rd tour, but never made it home. I was left with two children to raise ages three and four. The only remembrance of him was a flag, one arm in a body bag, and several purple hearts.

Many of his buddies were drafted about the same time, and from the same area in this country. When friends began to return alive and well many of them were strung out on heroin of the strongest degree. Naturally one by one they showed up to comfort me, along with their habits, and love for a buddies widow. I was devastated to say the least, and fell into a depression of which there seemed no return. I took my first snort in 1976, and became addicted immediately. I thought that I was stronger than the drug, but that's an old story. Before I knew it I was totally addicted to South-East Asian white.

The heroin continued to get to Omaha until 1978. By then I was injecting, and OD'd many times, but didn't die.

My children were very young and had no idea what their Mother was involved in, until one night my young daughter walked into my bedroom, and gazed into my eyes as someone was injecting me. She still was not aware entirely, but knew that Mother was doing something very strange and alien to her. She cried, because she thought that I was getting hurt in some way. Fortunately she does not remember this incident, but it is still very vivid to me. I was very fortunate that I did not have to resort to theft, or prostitution at that time.

A fellow female addict was working as a counselor at the only MMT clinic in Omaha, and she advised me one night as we were hunting for the tar to think about methadone detox at least. Well as we all know, a 21 day detox only leads to a three month detox, then of course, maintenance is was the only answer for me.

In one year I kidded myself into thinking that I could kick the methadone, and did manage to stay semi-clean for one year. I did not have one good day in that year. I returned to college to get my degree, but had trouble concentrating, and dropped out for the second time.

I went to work in a theatre in which I had prep myself in college with drama courses. I was a brigade dancer without a whole lot of energy or nerve for the threatre at this time. I feel from grace as a stage actress, and dancer, and settled for a lower position in the theatre wine cellar. I tended bar, waited tables, anything where I could rip off some money to buy not heroin, but illicit methadone. Thinking I had my addiction under control, I kidded myself into thinking that I could handle this malady. Of course, I was again in terrible denial, and then I knew nothing about "abnormal normality". Once again I returned to a methadone clinic, and have continued in treatment to this very day. It saved my life, my mind, and my children.

In 1992 I found NAMA and advocacy. In 1995, I attended my first AMTA conference in Chicago, and attended each conference thereafter. From there came the Drug Policy Foundation conference, then Harm Reduction. I am now the NAMA regional director for a five state area including Kansas, Iowa, Indiana, Missouri and Nebraska. I love every minute of it, and plan to give my whole life to advocacy for the treatment that saved me from hell.

Where I will go from here only the man upstairs knows that. It's forums like Watchdog that keeps me keeping on. Thats what makes me tick now, and helping others to work their treatment is why I am happy today, and looking forward to tommorrow.

I want to thank Ms. Joyce Woods, president of NAMA, and Diane Seaman of MALTA in California for being such good friends, and teachers, and above all my mentors.

Judith L. Ostergard
Advocates for Methadone
Maintenance at Omaha (AMMO)