Showing posts from March, 2018

"'it's so insane how this drug has taken hold over me."

" 'it's so insane how this drug has taken hold over me. " Another person lost to drugs. Another person lost to the world. I have corresponded with thousands of people over the years- a few messages from time to time. This person was different. I had been corresponding with them off and on since 10/2013. That's a long fucking time. I had recently looked at their pictures, remarking to myself they must be doing well if I haven't heard from them. Things start as they do- sniffing some pills. Then more pills. Then more pills. We started with some questions about if you could OD from snorting oxy. " I usually do, at a minimum, 120mg of oxy a day. the average I do is about 200mg. the max is about 300mg. I haven't moved onto the needle, and I really don't have plans to" There were some times when the using stopped. Smoking weed with friends. Taking classes. Playing xbox and paintball. "you truly bring me hope that there are still goo

Black Tar Heroin "tracey" March 2018


Guest Post Justin M "Animal House"

I put the car in park and peered around at my surroundings. I’d driven to a brick and wood panel house, one of those houses that was obviously designed and built in the 70s. It lay under an ancient oak tree, it’s long and twisted branches reaching out over the house and front yard with their shadows giving a false sense of comfort in the midday heat. One fallen branch would easily destroy the house. A rough looking dog house was nestled at the base of the tree housing an equally rough looking mangy Siberian husky. The husky was not the only animal I saw. In fact, the yard was infested with pets and strays alike. The house sat down the road from a low income trailer park, where parents would gift puppies to their children, not understanding how much dedication and money raising a dog truly takes. Some of these neglected and forgotten pets inevitably migrated to this house, where the owner set out food every day for all of the unwanted dogs as well as her pets. I turned off the ig

From the trap house to the White House- thoughts on my trip

Dear Readers: I haven't been writing much lately. I sincerely apologize for that. I have a few stories in the queue. Don't worry. I was just doing advocacy in Washington DC and in Boston. First of all, I need to sincerely thank the people who donate time and resources to help me with my work. I spoke to: a federal judge, a head of a correctional agency, at a DC correctional facility for women, to medical practitioners, and to a group of around 200 students. It was tiring. My legs are still swollen but my heart is full. I spoke with democrats, republicans, young people, older people, professionals, the homeless, anyone who would listen. The good news- we are more alike than we are different. The "opioid crisis" may be the thing that unifies all of us. We all want to find ways to stop the dying and get on with the business of living. Second of all- I am extremely disturbed to hear the three pronged triumvirate of bullshit policies coming from our government. We are

Taking Advocacy On The Road

This week, I will be taking the Harm Reduction show on the road. I am headed to Washington DC to meet with some policy makers and criminal justice folks. Then I have back to back presentations in Boston Mass. The first is to students in medical residency and the second is to students at a University. It will be a brutal couple of days for me travel wise but I have a few days of vacation on the backend. I am pretty burnt out, behind on care packages, the usual. A few days away will be good for me though I am going to really miss my kids.  My presentations are really going to focus around YOU and what you need. Please feel free to send me comments etc. through my email or reddit.  I realized the other day I have spent the past six years being the confidant for a group of people who use drugs. I know more about some of you than people I see in my daily life. I appreciate you and your level on honesty.  Below is something I wrote recently about relapse which you may or may not have s

I Was Raised By the Television

I was raised by the television. In 1976 my mother had to return to work when my father lost his business in the great recession. He got tired of selling furniture and pool tales and whatever other menial jobs he acquired when he left the Navy. He had joined to get out of poverty. He had no running water until he was 17. When his mother died, he was left nothing but two quilts and a Bible. He was a Hillbilly that crawled all the way into a bottle after his wife was forced out of the kitchen and into the office. The TV raised me. Both my parents worked. I came home with a key on a chain around my neck. I stuck things in the microwave to heat them up while my brother listened to Led Zeppelin upstairs. I’d spin myself in circles trying to feel outside of myself. I’d sit on the stairs, listening to my parents argue, taking me and my footy pajamas back into my room. I saw my future in the bottom of the glass of whiskey one of my “uncles” asked me to hand him while he subtly grabbed my