traceyh415

I am 46 years old today. Hard to believe. I never thought I would make it past 30. I survived: One suicide attempt 8 years as an active addict A few overdoses An attempt on my life Being held violently against my will Rape My emotions. Against my best attempts to self destruct, here I am. You are a big part of that. Yes, I mean YOU. If it wasn't for helping others, I might not have made it this far. Recovery has Ups and Downs. You encourage me when I am down. You tell me to keep going. I tell you recovery is possible. I ask you to be safe. The world is a series of interwoven stories. I am glad you are part of mine. 46 years on this earth. Love to you all. 

"Who picks up a hooker with a fucking oxygen tank?" I ask. I shake my head in both disbelief and disgust. "Like how is that even possible? What are the logistics of it? Does she take a breath alternating with sucking a dick? Are they just like paying $10 to fuck her..." I take another sip of my coffee. I never drank coffee until I got off drugs. I always hated that jumpy feeling so, of course, I started using meth. I also remember the time 3 different hospital staff people used to hold me down to give me vaccinations yet a decade later I was giving them to myself. Working at an agency that deals with sex workers and people who use drugs leaves little room in my head space for self care. Everything around here is URGENT. This is URGENT. Lives are at stake, we are told. This is at the same time our paychecks are late or we are told to wait to cash them. Taking a lunch outside the facility is frowned upon. You are somehow seen as not serious enough about the "m...

There was a time in my life I could not care about anyone, including myself. I did not call my family. I did not have any true friends to speak of. I was surrounded by people yet always alone in my thoughts. I had many goals when I thought about quitting drugs. One of the main ones was to finally have a place where I could have a cat. Four years almost to the day, that cat became Smokey. Smokey was a just that- a smokey tabby with some brown patches and greenish brown eyes. He started out as a rambunctious kitten that liked to play fetch or attack any toe that snuck out from under the covers. He quickly turned into something else. He became an extension of myself. He loved those in his inner circle. He hated outsiders. He would hiss at visitors to the point we mounted an "Attack Cat" warning sign for those entering our residence. He would climb up in the cabinets to surprise strangers trying to get a plate with a startling hiss. Was he feral at one point? No, we would ans...

I feel this relationship crushing me like a wine glass underneath his boot. Can I salvage what little life I have left? The bruises are unmistakable. I was "lucky' that he didn't "kill me this time". I look at my face in the mirror, my pupils beam like eight balls in my eyes. It is time, I tell myself. Time to leave? Oh no, I don't have the self esteem to do that. Time to blast off again into the world of fuck it. I sit back down on the toilet seat searching for the perfect spot. The breeze is blowing through the bars of the bathroom window, sending a chill up my exposed spine. It won't be long my heart will be pounding like the sound of someone slamming on this door to come in. Fear rings in my ears. The fear of getting caught in here, dirty rig in hand. The game now is to get these drugs into me faster than he can kick in the door. "I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE" he screams. He sounds like the police. "If you don't come out," he pr...

I know many of my readers are mothers. Happy Mother's Day to You. To all of my readers who have lost their mothers like myself, I hope you are practicing self care. XOXO Tracey

In a room full of people, I often feel alone. When a person is sleeping next to me, I am a world away. When the bus gets full, I get off at the next stop. It isn't that I don't want to be around people. I just don't know how. I always have a nagging feeling. I am a broken piece. I am a shard of shattered glass. I am the other. There is this nagging feeling inside me. It makes no sense. No one told me I was wrong. No one forced me to the side. The words are choking me. I have a knot in my throat. All the things I would say to you. If I only spoke your language. Communicating with swollen fingers. Seeing the world through blood shot eyes. No one made me feel this way. I was born feeling like the other. No one made me an addict. I was born feeling unsatisfied. If only I could feel like a "normal" person. Spinning in my own mind. Watching the world pass me by.