Showing posts from February, 2016

18 Years Clean.

I saw this on the floor of the train station and it reminded me of myself years ago. Disclaimer- I can't actually remember if the last day I used was the 25th or the 26th, so I generally use Feb 27th in print as a clean date to be on the safe side.  It is a foggy night here in the San Francisco Bay Area, one very much like the last time I injected myself with drugs for the very last time. To give a bit of background about my situation, the end of 1997 was a horrible time for me. As a homeless drug user, I hit many bottoms. I have had someone rape me. I have had someone try to rape and murder me. I have been robbed. I have been beaten until my eyes were nearly swollen shut. I was held hostage at knifepoint. I was even hit by a car while I was jaywalking (the car then almost backed over my head trying to get away before the police arrived). Despite these events, I could keep pushing the pain just below the surface. I could find that critical point of numbness where the only

Chasing heroin On PBS

I knew this topic would interest you all so I shot some questions to one of the producers Marcela Gaviria. 1. How does this program differ from other shows on the topic? There is some terrific reporting on the epidemic.   I think in two hours we cover not just the origins of the epidemic, we report on why the epidemic has not been abated and we examine what needs to be changed in order to contain the worst drug epidemic in our history.   It's all told through intimate and deeply revelatory stories of three addicts, a suburban mom, a 21 year old female from a middle class background, a musician who is now homeless. 2. With so many different opinions on what is needed, was there anything that stood out as solutions or themes? The Obama administration is reviewing the restrictions on prescribing for medication assisted treatment, and from the experts we spoke with, it seems relaxing those rules could be a good start. We could also require insurance plans to include cov

Guest Post- Civilized Insanity

Days of Darkness It's 235am and all I can seem to think about is the countdown to when I can cop more dope, my mind wanders listlessly thinking about my next high, my next escape  back to the world my imagination has created but my body as yet to manifest into reality. When I'm high I'm able to remove all doubt and worry about life...and it feels as though I'm able to simply live in peace for a price. As I toss and turn, the clock seems to stuck in suspended animation because minutes now feels like hours...and sleep is something that continues to elude me (likely due to all those endless nights spent smoking meth from one sunrise to the next in a previous chapter of my life) I've lost count of the hours of my life I've sacrificed to the never  ending game of "Waiting to Inhale" other words,waiting for the dopeman. At time it feels more like Im waiting for the devil to take my call and sell me back a small chunk of my blackened soul. Once I have pu

A junkie goes to New York

I was sitting in my hotel room Saturday morning. I was alone. I could hear the honking of the angry motorists. The whirl of the heater. There was a tiny bit of frost in the corner of the window. It was bitterly cold outside, at least to a person who has been living in California for the past 24 years. I laid on the tightly made sheets and let out a sigh. Today was going to be a difficult day for me. Not because I was going to be taping a segment for television. Not because I was going to have to retell gory elements of my life in front of a studio audience. Because I felt the weight of all the young people who are dying across this country of overdoses that are sitting at home on their couch, hoping to find some kind of connection with anyone they felt might understand them. I am hoping that person will be me, even if they accidentally see this show. I suppose they won't be watching it on purpose. It certainly hits a slightly older demographic. But maybe, just maybe, it can happen.

I'm back.

I did a whirlwind tour of New York. Taped a segment of Dr Oz, caught up with some old friends. I will let y'all know when it is on.  The books are coming in!! Exciting to know you readers are getting my book. I am going to raffle off some copies so stay tuned. I will get a story out to you this week.  Xoxo Tracey 

Stress and anxiety reduction workshop

A few years ago, I did a workshop on reducing stress and anxiety at a mental health conference. It is a 20 minute segment  here . This is not hosted on my youtube so you can't leave comments but you might enjoy watching it for a few tips.

The Train Station

After a mind numbing day of dealing with crisis after crisis at my job, I pull myself into a seat on the train that will eventually lead me a few blocks from my house. The sky is clear in the outside world. The blue ceiling of the curve of the Earth is dotted with ethereal clouds. I get lost in them for a moment. I forget about the problems of the day, the crunch of the dirty floor below me. The train ride home provides me with the promise that anything can happen. My anxiety builds from that last square of dark chocolate I ingested for the rush of dopamine, straight to the head motherfucker. My pleasures are simple. Food, fucking, furry creatures, and full faced children that call me mother. I feel someone acknowledging my existence when I deflect my attention to my electronic escape device. I stare at my my iPhone, silently cursing the fact that my screen is foggy and my case is cracked. My first world problems are interrupted by a young woman who shuffles past me. She pull on the

I can't quit you baby

Loneliness is a hunger that can not be quenched with anything but that feeling of connection that comes when the universe makes you feel secure in your surroundings. This can come from the caress of a caring mother. A lover who kisses you gently on the small of your back. A fuzzy friend who nuzzles against you at the end of a hard day of being out in the cold world. This can also come in the from of pills, powders, and rocks of opioids. From the moment they enter you longing body, they tell you that THIS is the only love you will ever truly feel. The security they provide with make a 120 pound man stand half naked out on a cold street corner waiting for someone that said they will be there "in ten minutes" almost two hours ago. I am not sure if I need heroin or if I want heroin. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore. I have turned my ability over to a power greater than myself. This isn't the power they talk about in the musty rooms of 12 step meetings. This is the power

I made a new video instead of a Saturday blog post

One of my reddit friends died recently so I am not exactly in the mood to write as of yet. I made a shirt video instead  here.  I am working on another story and it will be up soon.