I have read a fair number of drug memoirs and this is one of the better ones.
Kimberly Wollenburg could be any one of us, essentially. She is not the person you would think would become a meth addict. We all know what meth addicts look and behave like – they live in gutters hook for money and have ravaged faces with no teeth. Kim was none of these things all while she was developing and maintaining a huge meth addiction. She worked (mostly selling drugs but still, she worked), looked after her son with Downs Syndrome (except when she went right off the rails), lived in a big lovely house, had no debt and even had all her own teeth.
That was a large contributor to her problem (not her teeth, the whole not looking like a meth head). She didn’t recognise her problem until it was almost too late. She knew what meth heads looked and behaved like and that wasn’t her, so obviously she wasn’t an addict.
Only she so was.
In this very honest and very readable account of Kim’s addict and eventual decision to sort her shit out, as a reader, even if you have never taken drugs, you understand her lack of understanding. And I believe you understand how she landed up where she was. Kim reveals some of her childhood to us, but, I believe, because part of the process of getting sober is taking on the responsibility for her decisions, she doesn’t lay blame at what did or did not happen to her. For the voyeur reading this is a bit exasperating; nothing better than a good bitch session about one’s mother/classmates/boyfriends/friends/imaginary people. But Kim does the right thing; she owns her addiction and so is finally able to escape it.
It’s a worthwhile book to read and maybe it will help just one addict get a little more understanding from others. Because we are horrible to addicts, generally speaking, blaming them for what no longer is their choice.
And now Kim lives in a flat, looks after her boy in a bug suit and makes cookies. I wish I lived in Boise so I could support her.