traceyh415

It is dark outside. This is the time of year when the darkness swallows me up from all directions. My friend Korri and I went out to brunch this afternoon. We hadn't really seen each other in a few weeks. I got three pieces of bacon, two eggs sunnyside up, dry wheat toast with smuckers jelly added for sweetness. He got the same combo with a side of pancakes and sausages. His coffee had the typical too much cream and heaps of sugar I try to avoid. I like my coffee like I like my shots of dope- dark. The conversation went from potential Christmas presents for our respective kids, to what we are reading, to debate about whether cordoroy ever went out of style. As we head down to finish our work related business, I see a flicker on the sidewalk. There is blood dripping down a wrist. I would love to say I saw the details in the man's face but I did not. All I saw was him switching his fluid from one to syringe to another. I imagine him fishing for a vein in this cold weather, wa...

The fan is whir-whir-whiring. The slow breeze is traversing the room, hitting my toes. I have them sticking out of the sleeping bag. I am overheated. I am cold. I am stuck to the bed. The springs of the mattress are poking into my leg. I reflexively turn my body away from the light. A passing car is illuminating my predicament. It's 2:35 am. I feel myself slightly sticking against the plastic sheet. It's the kind they use for the kids that wet the bed. There is condensation slipping down the window pane. There is a little snore a few feet away from my head.

As an educated young woman, there were many things I imagined for my future. I was a nerdy, mostly chubby school girl that walked out of high school with idea I was going to make it in the world. Never did I imagine that I would spiral into an entirely different life. With a copy of a book by Dorothy Parker tucked under one arm and my Walkman in the other, I moved out of my parents' house just shy of my 18th birthday. I had always been overweight and awkward, the center of negative attention. When I drank those first few beers of freedom, I felt relieved of these burdens,My parents, while sympathetic, had no idea how to deal with cycles of eating and chronic depression. In some ways, I was ahead of my time. I was a cutter before I even knew that was something other girls did when they needed relief. I discovered binging and puking with the help of a school friend. I also knew about laxatives and over the counter diet pills. I would spend hours reading books, watching mo...

2018 is slowly coming to a close. Let's start with the positives. Overdose deaths have fallen for six months in a  row . I know the Trump Administration wants to take credit for this number but I suspect the record will show this is linked to a combination of factors: The rise of fentanyl test strips, the expansion of MAT, the diligent efforts of outreach workers, overall awareness of overdose, and the expansion of access to naloxone. Regardless of any short term decreases, these numbers are still in the tens of thousands. In addition, deaths related to stimulants are creeping up to 10,000 people per year. In other words, much more work needs to be done. Work we can all do together. Secondly, mail based Harm reduction services have officially been approved in New York State with more on the way. Please visit my partner project Next Distro  here.  In 2019, I am going to pour all my personal and professional resources into expanding mail based Harm Reduction. Naloxone...

"Mommy- have you ever shoplifted?" This was an unexpected question coming through the darkness from the direction of my sleepy son. We recently had started a series of question and answer time before we fall asleep. Due to an unforeseen series of events, sleep has been evasive for me. The fan in his room provides me with just enough white noise to drift off into dreamland (until I wake up at 1am, 3am, then finally 5:30am for work). "Why are you asking me that sweetheart?" I don't want to be evasive but I am certainly curious where a seven year old heard this term. "and yes, I have shoplifted before..." The truth is, I was already shoplifting when I was his age. I had already tried weed. I had already drank. I am not looking for sympathy. These are simply facts. My upbringing was a complicated one. On the outside, things might have looked relatively normal. But the foundation had many cracks in it, just beyond what was visible. Stealing wasn't ...

I got up at 6:45 am this morning to head to the lab at my HMO. They said I had to fast 12 hours so of course I woke up every 30 minutes imagining myself withering from hunger. By 7:14, I took a number. I took my place on the hard plastic seats, a favorite furniture choice of medical clinics and waiting rooms outside county jails. I was holding labels for six tubes of blood. One to see if my food choices is clogging up my heart, one to see if my fatness is actually a medical issue, one to see if I have early markers for the cancer that killed my mother, one to reassure me that I did, in fact, clear the Hep C virus, and one to see if I have any signs of the DIABEETUS, My name is called. I have to explain to Ben the handsome Asian tech that I used to use IV drugs, I have no veins, and other sordid details. Mercifully, he agrees to stick the needle where I recommend. The blood starts to register, uh I mean rush, uh I mean pour in. I thank Ben for his kindness. I have a snack in the pocke...