traceyh415

Amor Estragado   "Eu preciso de uma ajudinha aqui ... " Gritei na esperança de que ele estivesse me escutando " Foda-se pra você. Levante-se . " Escutei-o se coçando antes de ele abrir os olhos. Ele me perguntou: " Cara - por que agora? " "Venha aqui pra segurar esse lado da minha perna pra mim , você pode?” Disse para ele. Ele odeia essa merda . Ele odeia essa parte de mim . Ele estava em algum lugar distante enquanto eu estava sentada fritando. Eu havia usado um pouco de speed (metanfetamina) na noite passada. E stou sentada agora num tapete sujo de hotel usando um shorts estilo boxeador . Gosto de usar esses tipos de shorts porque fica mais fácil de me levantar quando eu estou com drogas guardadas naquele lugar. O novo ponto que escolhi para me injetar foi uma veia que serpenteia ao redor do meu joelho até a minha coxa. Estou com um problema enorme esta noite – estou com uma baita infecção me mata...

There is some mold building on the windowpane. The streets are calling me back again. If I die in this room, will anyone know my name? Will I be toe tagged Jane Doe- DOA from an overdose. If I settle for a moment, will I slip into darkness. I washed down those pills with Old English. If I light a cigarette to wake myself up will I catch myself on fire on top of this mattress? There are holes in my socks, holes in my jeans. There is a hole in my heart as deep and as wide as the tears that fall on my shoes when I scream. Or at least I thought you heard me cry but it was just a lucid dream.  If I die today, will I grip the table- gasping as I try to stay?  Will I slip into the abyss while you sleep three feet away?  I promised you that I would stop. Another lie, another day.  An overdose, a life explored Death is my comfort My pain is now yours. 

I am giving away two DVDs of the movie. You cannot buy this anywhere. To enter, leave a comment on how this movie impacted your life. I will number the entries and have two picked at random. If you are concerned about privacy, create an account to respond to the posting because the posting will not be private. 

"I can use a little help here ..." I scream in hopes he is listening "Fuck you and your nod. Get Up." I hear him scratching before he opened his eyes. He asks me "Dude- why now?" "Just come here and hold the side of my leg, Okay?" I tell him. He hates this shit. He hates this part of me. He was somewhere far off into a nod while I am sitting up tweaking. I did some speed last night. Now, I am sitting on the dirty hotel carpet stripped down to my boxer shorts. I wear boxers because it is easier to get up into my snatch when I have drugs stuffed in there. My new place to hit has been the vein than snakes around from my knee leading down to my thigh. There is one major problem tonight- I have a raging infection in there right now. I need him to hold one side of my leg so I can lance the center. It hurts so fucking bad, I can't do it on my own. ESPECIALLY since I am tweaking my ass off. My leg is so swollen, I am dragging my leg like an extr...

I am going to do another round of Black Tar Heroin Shirts to raise money for harm reduction. Please email me at traceyh415@gmail.com if you are interested. The shirts will be done in a few weeks 

Hey Readers- I am looking for some guest posters. If you are interested, email me traceyh415@gmail.com.

            In August of 1990, my “husband” was released from prison. I use the term husband loosely, because the only husband I have ever known is the one I am with today. This person was both a parasite and a predator. I thought I was in love with him. I even gave up drinking for him. Six long months of no alcohol to prove I was loyal to him. The seeds of addiction had long been planted in me. I already was obsessed with things. This time, it would be him. I needed a spark, a catalyst to drive me into the spoon. He would soon provide me with both.             I had completely abandoned the life I had known to be with this man. Left college, left my friends, my apartment for him.   I was so young, so impressionable. I had little experience with men. I had saved myself for my first serious boyfriend, which I did not have until I was nearly 18 years old. I had always be...

Your girl is out there advocating for us.

If I would have died will a needle in my arm, What would you have told my mother, Would the world embrace my death, And carry on as if I did not matter. There are so many times I should have died: I overdosed twice and yet I live I was kidnapped and held hostage, and yet I live I had a johntry to   murder me, yet I live I was hit by a car crossing the street, yet I live I tried to drown myself in the ocean, yet I live I believe I have survived for a reason. Some nights, I sneak into my kids' room. For some reason or another, they have all decided they want to sleep in the space that is not much larger than my last jail cell. I see their red cheeks and slightly sweaty faces. There is a piece of me in there. The best of me has been passed on to them. I see the innocence in their faces. I wonder was I like this? What was I like before the drugs, before the misery, before the mysteries that I unlocked with substances. I could ramble on with a story about how I was molded...

http://www.mommyish.com/2014/07/01/heroin-addict-mom/   http://www.mommyish.com/2014/07/01/heroin-addict-mom/