Mormon Mums on meth?

I'm at home tonight feeling a bit hot and woozy. Hoping some Airborne will fight it off, that and the slug of Canadian whiskey. So I thought I'd share my thoughts on the latest crazy Utah story; the high incidence of drug use in the Mormon State.

My friend Jane's mum is head teacher at an elementary school in St George, South Utah, and she has been specially trained to detect signs of meth use in her staff. Apparently, meth abuse can happen amongst Mormon women in particular. What other drug allows you to stay awake for days so you can manage to be the perfect Mormon wife and look after your husband and many high-achieving children? I've been looking for evidence to support this anecdote but so far can't find much. It sounds like a bit of myth, although the incidence of meth use amongst women in Utah does appear to be high. The state ranks 2nd nationally for the percentage of females arrested who test positive for meth. But I'm sure they're not the religious married Mums.


One of the entries in urban dictionary defines Utah as: "home of the 4 Ms. Mormons, meth labs, mountains and mini-vans." Funny.


What I am more willing to believe is the abuse of prescription drugs amongst these women. They're acceptable. You go to your doctor to get them. They help you get through the day. Wasn't Valium always mother's little helper? And doctors just encourage the use of medication. I found this extract in a Mormon magazine.

My friend recently went for a physical and her doctor said her problems were stress-related. He suggested a muscle relaxant and a tranquilizer.

Isn't it a crazy world when we think that some pills are going to cover up what's actually going on? Well, they do. But that's all they do. The problems are still there.

The article then goes on to advise: Look for ways to get to the source of your problem instead of covering the symptoms with medication. {My friend} declined medication and instead tried relaxation tapes, meditation, and counseling which helped get the underlying problems under control. She also finds daily walks therapeutic and has decreased the number of commitments that were causing her stress. Jan Jones said that watching a river or the waves on the lake is wonderful therapy for her. Hobbies such as ceramics or water-color are also good. Mary Smith said, “I used to be so caught up in service I ignored my own needs. Now I add to my list the question ‘what am I doing for me?’ A little pampering is a must for any woman! “

Now, whether ceramics is really the answer is another question.... but what is good about a religion that encourages perfection and overdosing on good deeds? You have to look after yourself before you can look after others.

Doing my homework for this also led me to this blog, Living Behind the Zion Curtain. In this entry, she's talking about the church's campaign against alcopops, amongst other things. I liked this bit in particular.

FYI, the above article I quoted notes that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has joined THE FIGHT AGAINST ALCOPOP. I swear, what would we do without the Mormons? Meth use is RAMPANT in Utah, but by all means put your very large, very rich shoulder behind the INHERENT DANGERS of alcopop, which despite anyone’s belief is VERY STRONGLY REGULATED, and forget that children are being raised in hazardous waste bins–aka homes that are used for meth labs–in a very REAL and actually dangerous phenomenon. Where is the LDS CHURCH in the fight against METH? How about the fight against AIDS or CANCER?

No, by all means, let’s take a stance against alcopop.

Quite.

Never mind the what, let's just deal with the where...

My navel-gazing at what I'm going to do next has of course produced some interesting commentary, which is really making me laugh.

Why do we humans have a tendency to look at things as black and white, as absolutes, when they are almost always shades of grey?

I definitely do this. I wanted to share Greig's thoughts on location which are still making me laugh now. He is of course correct.

All I can say is it's not necessarily london = decadence, the mother country = healthy living, and certainly not much sign of healthy living during my sweep of the 'hotties' galumping around Glasgow Central yesterday... HANNAH GRANT YOU'D BE APPALLED!!! Or are you going to tell me you've become less judgemental during Utah time?

Of course I haven't.

I've met this great guy from Bridge of Don here, he's spent time in Peterhead and Fraserburgh, he grew up in the north-east too. And of course it's not all rolling hills and fishing communities and ceilidhs. Oh no. The north-east of Scotland has one of the biggest heroin problems in Europe. Lee knows a couple of people who've died from shooting up. That's the reality. Poverty, boredom, few aspirations in life..... a life on the rigs or on the boats followed by blowing it all on a cheap escape when they're back on shore.

Maybe Brighton is indeed a better option for a bleeding heart liberal like me. (That's the Republican view of my politics!)

What next?

All I can think about at the moment is that I'll be back home in another 6 weeks or so. And then what on earth am I going to do? Something shifted after the Vegas trip: before then I was fully engrossed in the fairy mountain world experience, life had shifted down to a simple pattern of work/ski/work/ski/a few beers/'hang out' /ski/ repeat. I think part of the thrill with skiing is you get so focused on it that you forget there's a world outside the mountain.


But there is, and it's rapidly approaching. At the moment it feels a little bit like this. A huge black hole. I'm scared as opposed to excited, although that does depend on how tired and emotional I'm feeling. A little less emotional at the moment because I cut out the source of the confusion post-Vegas (Tamsin: I know that last post was boring... and so obviously a gloss! I've been forgetting I'm not 25 anymore.)



I'm not even sure what I want. I've had enough of the transient travelling life - yet again, I've met some wonderful people here and yet again, I'm leaving them. It's too heart-breaking to continue. At the same time, the thought of the end of the adventures seems so dull.


I guess the trick is to view the next part of life as an adventure too as I try to get settled somewhere other than London, most likely the motherland. It makes sense. Outdoor living, my little nephew, all my siblings and my Mum and Dad are there. And I'm sure I'll be able to drag the urbanites up for some weekends of healthy living. Or they'll drag me down to the smoke for weekends of decadence which is more likely as I try and fail to live up to my self-imposed good girl standards.


What am I going to do when I can't ski 5 days a week? I've been so spoilt. I couldn't do this forever though; it's far too self-indulgent. Life is bigger than just me and what I want to do.


In a month's time, Toby would have been 30. I've been thinking about him a lot recently and about the whole Borneo experience. I'm not quite sure why I was spared and he died. He was way more committed to doing something bigger than him than I am! I think the universe got that choice wrong somewhere.... well, we'll see. I promised myself I'd make my time on this earth count after being with him when he died, and the time is approaching to fulfill that in some way.


So, answers on a postcard please!

Viva Las Vegas

I haven't written for a month now which just goes to show how much working and skiing has been consuming my life. Well, mostly... there has of course been some other consumption going on as well. And where better to consume than Las Vegas.

I have never been anywhere like Vegas - it really does live up to its reputation. Flashy and trashy and at times even quite classy, which surprised me. Fourteen of the twenty largest hotels in the world are in Vegas.



Check this out; it's modelled on Venice, surprisingly enough. It's so cheesy it's good. There's even a fake St Mark's Square.

The strip never sleeps. At midnight, it feels like 8pm. There are working girls everywhere and serious mutton dressed as lamb. And the vibe just encourages misbehaving. I'd like to say I didn't, but of course that would be a lie. Marc had to take me for a bloody mary the day we drove out to the Hoover Dam. I was shaking and nauseous and vowing never, ever, again. It was great to go there with him: he lived and worked there for 3 years and really was a fantastic tour guide, if a little too cheeky at times! Do you know Americans don't use the word cheeky? I'm told the nearest they have to it is sassy. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?