traceyh415

I am dead from my neck down. My body has experienced so much trauma. My heart is broken. My feet are aching. My greatest fear is not that I will die, that I will have to live the rest of my life like this.  Trapped in an endless darkness, I am a shadow of myself. I have taken love for granted. Given all my affections to the highs that brought me so low again. Alone. Wondering what new miseries the day will bring. 

"if you have been dead a couple times and you KNOW it is nothing more than a light switch, no romance , no judge of character or morality, its just like going to sleep, and there is nothing to fear about it, how are you ever supposed to hit "rock bottom" and turn this thing around?" The first time I ever used heroin was the first time I ever saw someone overdose. Well, I had not even used mine yet. The two experienced junkies took turn hitting us suburban pupils up with the same barbed rig. Within seconds, I saw my friends eyes roll back in his head. Before anyone could scream in fear, I saw him grip the table with so much force I was told it was called the death grip. That split second when his body clung to his diminishing life force in such a way it made an impression on me for the rest of my life. The body, it seems, does not want to die despite the ill advised efforts of the host within. In the life cycle of the junkie, there is a period at which your body

I was having a conversation recently with a friend about my minor obsession with the well being of a friend. She casually stated "the only thing worse than being an addict, is loving one." These words kind of fucked me up for a few moments. I'm a writer. I consider myself able to turn a good phrase. Yet, I had no witty rebuttal. These words stung for days.  For the first time in my life, I was experiencing what others must have experienced when I was on drugs. I have made friends with addicts before, hundreds of them over the years. Between my own drug use and working at harm reduction facilities, I have been in the consistent company of drug users for close to thirty years. To a certain extent, I always was able to put up a decent sized wedge of self preservation between myself and the other person. I always knew in the back of my mind that at any moment, the "other shoe" of overdose, murder, or other type of brutal end could happen to my people. I am a jade

Everything about you is so perfect. My heart aches knowing you.  Like the bed is spinning  After a night of heavy drinking  I get sick to my stomach  With just a few of your passing words.  Painful to see you toss and turn,  To grip the pillow with swollen fingers.  Painful to see your empty smile.  If you could only see what I see.  Like the friend I have always wanted  Like the person I know you to be  Perfect in your imperfections.  Like the person I know you to be. 

This is dedicated to all the fools who says that we should just "let them die".  I loved shooting drugs. I loved shooting drugs in public places.  I didn't not give two fucks if I shot up in front of your kids.  I would lick the blood to taste the last bit of dope.  I would carry rigs in my pocket like my life depended on it.  I've shot up with water from a puddle.  I've walked all over the city with no shoes high on meth.  I've turned a trick on soiled newspaper in the rain.  I've cried over spilled dope. Never over my choices.  Until I did.  One day, I imagined something different for myself.  People change. I changed.  Never, ever tell me there is no hope.  I am living proof.  I am a mother, an employee, and activist, a wife.  People love me.  I rescue cats. I help others.  Fuck your judgment.  Let me live.