Mindless Ramblings of a Disproportioned Woman

I remember...
My niece, Karen, posted about watching a documentary on the drug Meth. She posted how this program researched and discovered that once this drug chooses a victim (or should I say victim chooses a drug, anyway) that only 6% of recovering addicts fully recover. How sad. How sad for the families of these people. How sad for the lives that are disrupted. Unfortunately, I remember. I remember watching someone I used to (think) I loved throw his family, and life down the drain..all for this drug. The surprising thing about this statistic (Troy) ..he came from a good (i won't say stable) home, is fairly intelligent, and parents are still married. This drug knows no race, sex, age, or clas. This drug is nasty. It makes the user very violent and unsatisfied. They will do ANYTHING to get another hit. Unfortunately, it used to be fairly easy to acquire the ingredients used to make it. In a farming community, it is relatively simple. I remember the fear I had for the safety and well being of my son, and myself. Why did I stay? I stayed because I didn't want to be a statistic, I thought I could change him, and I actually believed the things he said to me. I constantly heard I was no good...no one would love me. I was stupid, I was fat, I wasn't a good mother. I was told I would never make anything of myself, and I wouldn't survive without him. I felt I had no one to turn to. At that time I wasn't very close to my sisters, or brothers for that matter. I felt I was truly alone. Until I called Dianne at work one day, and she said to pack danny up, and come on over. So I did. and ..guess what? I did make something of myself, I am a good (at least decent) mother, I finished my teaching degree, and am happily married to a wonderful person. and guess where he is...still hooked on this drug. Almost ten years later. He has 2 more children(who live with his mother). How sad to see a life who could have great promise (all he needed to do was apply himself, he could have had any occupation he wanted)...but instead, he made the choice to dance with the devil?
And Now..ten years later..
My greatest fear I have now...is how to educate my children (one of them being his son) on the dangers of drug use. How do I educate them on how peer pressure will feel, and it IS Ok to sayNO! The friends who would use, are the friends to lose? How..in a society like ours, HOW can I help them say NO?