DEAR ABBY: When I read your column about "huffing" chemicals, I had to respond.

I was a teen-age solvent abuser. For most of my early school days, I was an overachiever. I was not popular, but I had one or two good friends and was active in Scouting and volunteer activities. Because I was into books and getting good grades, by junior high I was teased and beaten up by my schoolmates. High school brought more of the same merciless harassment. I began to withdraw into solitary activities and discovered model building.

My descent into hell began innocently. I loved to build model cars, boats and planes. I discovered that the fumes from the glue gave me a buzz. Soon I was buying as much as a tube of model glue a day and huffing the fumes. I staggered around in a fog most of the time, couldn't remember things, and my grades slipped badly.

I heard something on the news about kids who had died as a result of sniffing Pam. I decided to try that as well, secretly hoping it would kill me. I huffed a number of other aerosol products, too. In my depression, I tried to kill myself by taking an overdose of aspirin. No luck. After the second overdose, a friend began dragging me along to activities and events and focused my attention on other things. My depression lifted, I managed to pull myself together, and I finished high school near the top of my class.

A couple of years later depression set in again. I dropped out of life and began huffing glue again. I huffed myself into unconsciousness and even a couple of seizures. Paranoia and hallucinations became the norm. I woke up once and found myself carrying on a conversation with a tree -- yes, it was answering back! The police were called when I was found running around with a knife, sure someone was out to get me. I was hospitalized on at least three occasions.

Fast-forward 20 years: What do I have to show for my stupidity today? I stutter, and confuse similar-sounding words in conversation. My hands shake. I frequently have problems remembering things for more than a few minutes. Worse yet, I'm now allergic to fragranced items including fabric softeners, detergent, hand lotion, perfume, cologne, hairspray and household cleaning items. Did you know that perfumes contain toxic chemicals such as toluene -- the same stuff that's in model glue?

Even though chemicals make me horribly ill, the craving to abuse them never quits! On a good day, I hate myself for the damage I've done to my brain and body. On a bad day, I wish I had succeeded in committing suicide years ago.

Parents: Pay attention to your children and their behavior. Have your children taken an unusual interest in being alone? Does their breath, clothes or room smell funny? Do they have balance problems while walking across a room? Difficulty sleeping? No appetite? Paranoia? Grades falling? Apathetic? Personal hygiene lacking? Do you find plastic bags with strange-looking dried-up white stuff in them? Your children could be abusing glue or aerosol products!

Get them help -- and don't take "no" for an answer. Abusing household products is as dangerous as abusing illegal drugs. -- SENSELESS IN SEATTLE

DEAR SENSELESS: You may never know how many people you have helped today by giving such a graphic warning to teens and their parents. Your letter is unmistakable proof that substance abuse may mask an even deeper problem, and a caring, tuned-in parent should not minimize or ignore it.

What teens need to know about sex, drugs, AIDS, and getting along with peers and parents is in "What Every Teen Should Know." To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Teen Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: I have been reading the letters in your column about acts of kindness, and I'd like to tell you about the young man who saved my husband from drowning. Please don't reveal my name if this is printed. My husband is embarrassed about the incident.

He and I were on vacation in Hawaii and went snorkeling at 8 a.m., something we had done many times before. However, this time, when my husband, who is asthmatic, looked up and realized how far from the beach we were, he panicked, and it brought on an asthma attack. He kept saying he couldn't breathe and he wouldn't try to swim. I tried to get him to hold onto me so I could pull him in (I'm a strong swimmer), but he kept saying we weren't getting anywhere and pulling away from me.

We were right in front of a hotel, and I could see people on their balconies. I began yelling for someone to help. No one came. As we were bobbing around, my husband kept drifting away. I continued to yell for help.

A young man suddenly appeared on the rocks in his bathing suit, wearing a snorkel mask and carrying fins. He climbed down the sharp coral rocks and yelled that he was coming to us, and we should just relax. For some reason, my husband was able to believe him, and they started a conversation. The young man put on his flippers and entered the water, which was dangerous because of the rocks and the surging waters. He took hold of my husband, told him to relax -- then pulled him all the way to the beach while I swam on my own.

When we reached the sand, not one person came forward to help us, although many were standing and watching. No one said a word. The young man told us he was a physician and gave us his name. He was Dr. Tom Elgin from California. If it weren't for his courageous action, I doubt my husband would have survived. I bless him in my prayers daily. I hope God is good to him. -- GRATEFUL IN FLORIDA

DEAR GRATEFUL: Your letter gives new meaning to doctors as lifesavers. Dr. Elgin was indeed a hero -- and I'll bet he's going to be surprised when he begins hearing from friends and acquaintances all across the country telling him so.

P.S. Tell your husband to stay in shallow water hereafter.

DEAR ABBY: A reader wrote you asking for some thoughts on friendship. I would like to share mine. It is one of the best descriptions of true friendship I have ever read. It was given to me by a friend; I do not know the author.

FRIENDSHIP

Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person.

Having neither to weigh thoughts

Nor measure words, but pouring them

All right out -- just as they are --

Chaff and grain together --

Certain that a faithful hand will

Take and sift them,

Keeping what is worth keeping,

And with a breath of kindness

Blow the rest away.

-- DICK IN ST. PETERSBURG, FLA.

DEAR DICK: Noble words, indeed, and well worth sharing. Thank you for sending them my way -- and Merry Christmas.

Good advice for everyone -- teens to seniors -- is in "The Anger in All of Us and How to Deal With It." To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Anger Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)

DEAR ABBY: I recently divorced my husband of nine years because I found out he was having an affair. He actually introduced her to people that we both knew. I ended up hiring an off-duty police officer so I could get the proof (pictures). It turned out she was one of my husband's co-workers, and the affair had been going on for three years. I ended up divorcing him, but the woman's husband decided to forgive her.

My ex hates my guts because she chose to remain with her husband.

Abby, I am so ashamed. How could I not have known? We had not slept together since our daughter was born; she is 6 years old now. He blames the whole affair on me. He says I was not doing my wifely duty and that's what made him cheat. Well, I just didn't feel that close to him. He had been verbally and physically abusive prior to our daughter's birth and afterward. He was terrible to my parents and called them names. He never paid any bills nor helped me with our daughter.

To this day he hates me so much he can't stand to look at me because he has to pay child support. He has every other weekend with our daughter, and it kills him to come and pick her up. He was a sorry excuse for a husband and not much better as a father.

The problem is -- if he wanted to come back, I believe I would take him back. Why do I feel like this? Is there something wrong with me? Do I need counseling? -- DAZED AND CONFUSED

DEAR DAZED: Your husband was a master manipulator. Regardless of where he tries to lay the blame, the physical and verbal abuse you received from him was not your fault. Nor did you "make" him cheat on you -- he managed that all by himself.

One of the tactics of an abuser is blaming the victim for the terrible things he does. Unfortunately, the victim often believes her abuser when he says she "made" him act the way he did.

There is nothing "wrong" with you that can't be fixed. Counseling is the answer -- and the sooner the better. If your physician cannot refer you to a therapist, call the Domestic Violence Hotline, (800) 799-7233, for a referral. (The TDD line for people with hearing impairments is (800) 787-3224.) Please don't wait to make the call.

DEAR ABBY: The letters in your column about people who wear too much perfume in public prompts this letter.

Some years ago, faced with an identical crisis, I discovered a fix that has stood me well in the numerous olfactory confrontations I've encountered since. When assaulted by odors I can't endure, I obtain a small wedge of lemon or lime. When rubbed under the nose, the resulting citrus aroma effectively masks the sickeningly sweet smell of the perfume. The application of the lemon slice can be done inconspicuously if one doesn't wish to embarrass the offender, or can be done blatantly if one wishes the odor-wafter to become aware of the problem he or she is causing. -- EARLE TIMBERLAKE, B.S.C., REGISTERED MASSAGE THERAPIST

DEAR EARLE: Thank you for the tip. For people who are simply offended by the odor of too much perfume, your suggestion could prove to be a godsend. For those who suffer allergic reactions to perfume, however, I still think prudence would dictate that they put as much distance between them and the offender as possible.

CONFIDENTIAL TO MY READERS: Have a merry Christmas, but keep this in mind: If you're drinking, don't drive; if you're driving, don't drink.

To receive a collection of Abby's most memorable -- and most frequently requested -- poems and essays, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby's "Keepers," P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)