traceyh415

From 1990-1991, I had one syringe. One. What do you do when you only have one syringe? I started using opioids IV in 1990. The first thing ever put in my veins was some kind of vicodin or perc shit show my friend had cold water extracted. He had one syringe. That he had inherited after a cocaine binge involving three other people. This was now mine/ours/the community syringe. He bleached it, a process that frequently dries out the runner plunger. That instrument was suspect from the day it first went in my arm. I used that same syringe for the next YEAR, unable to obtain a new one. There was my first time trying heroin, a three day binge on morphine sulphate (involving friends), a few coke binges, more heroin. Same syringe. We would sharpen in on a match book. We would use lube from a condom. There were times we would bleach it. There were times we just cleaned it with water. It was essentially a fish hook that left me bruised and damaged. Yet it was so valuable, years later when

Hello Readers: I am trying a new format for a few months. I hope you will enjoy it. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. Being on the Today Show completely blew up my spot. Thank you to Jamie from Next Distro and Matt from Rebel Recovery Florida for helping me keep up with requests. More and More, my work is focusing on expanding a network of folks who want to do what I do- a mail based system to get harm reduction supplies to those who have no access. In the past few weeks, I answered thousands of messages and comments to the point I have some kind of stress related shoulder injury. I am excited that so many people wanted to weigh in on their love for people who use drugs and the need to expand services that help them. There were minimal shitty comments which is pretty unheard of when it comes to these topics. THAT gives me hope. I love the fact that so many of you are just doing the damn thing. Passing on naloxone. Handing out syringes. You don't need a prog

In the five years I have written this blog, I have written down a long series of depressing entries about my heroin addiction, my mental health, and the long uphill battle to stay off drugs. This isn't one of those posts. Overall, my life is pretty fucking good. Let me explain.  Every single goal I wrote on a piece of paper in rehab has been achieved. All of them. I have a cool relationship. I reunited with my family. I got my credit straight. I discharged probation. I got a good place to live. I finished school. I did all those things.  I spent seven years on and off in therapy. Despite intermittent bouts of depression, my mental health is better than ever. I have three great kids that love me.  I woke up today in my bed. The blanket was clean. I was safe.  I don't need a bunch of fancy things. I just need to appreciate the things I have.  To be quite honest, heroin was probably the first real love of my life. I wasn't sure if I could live with