traceyh415

Losing control of myself. As a survivor of sexual abuse, I have a rigid system in place for myself mentally and physically. I like to know where I am going at all times. I like the details, I like to know my escape routes. I like to know everything that might happen so I can work out contingencies in my mind. It is nearly impossible for me to relax unless I feel like I have gone through a complete mental list of the details. In the past month, for whatever reason, my brain decided to short circuit. The mental load of having to be in control of everything 24/7 was just too damn much. The end result of this was a series of panic attacks. The perceived threat in daily situations is everything and anything. I have come to the fork in the road where I am just too afraid of daily living to the point my mind said ZAP! This is not easy for me to both admit and to deal with. It is a lot to manage. The rigid system can only exist holding things together for so long before it starts to cra...

I was laying in my bunk bed cuddling one of my fat rolls last week when it dawned on me that it has been over two decades since the last time I was starving. I have gotten used to this sturdier frame. This is quite a contrast from the years when I was so thin I had to wear multiple pairs of pants just to get up to any type of a normal frame. There was an expression I heard in rehab "I was so sucked up, my two back pockets were touching." This was a painfully accurate representation. It's a humbling thing to have to decide between spending a dollar on a little debbie snack cake and paying full price for a small bag of shitty dope. Yet, I'd rather eat food I'd find on the top of a trashcan then part with my hard hustled money.  I am going to be fifty this year. I have outlived my shelf life many times over. I used up many of my nine lives, squandered a few. I enjoyed a few others. I will never forget the three weeks I spent tripping my ass off in Colorado at the ...

I enjoyed shooting heroin as much as one can enjoy it. It served it’s purpose- filling the void of non existent relationships, happiness, and self esteem. I didn’t need love. Heroin WAS love. Mix that with  the ego boost that was amphetamines. My path to daily maintenance was settled. I saw the consequences but I cared very little about them. If only I had an endless supply, I told myself. In reality, I should’ve been more focused on having usable veins. I abused the vessel that held my future endeavors to the point the machine turned against me. It was time to try abstinence, possibly and probably against my better judgment. There was simply no evidence it would work. Twenty something years later, I’m a functioning human. There are days when I’m less functioning than others. I hold no illusions about that time of my life. I am both lucky to have survived and angry that drugs don’t work for me anymore. I can hold both opinions. I was fortunate to survived before fentanyl but I’m ...

Put Lemon Juice on my regrets, Inject them directly into my neck. Heroin swirled in a snowdrift Helicopters drown out hunger pangs. My circle is very small. It consists of kids, cats, and depression naps. I don't go out much- though I enjoy myself when I do. I spent a lot of time mindlessly scrolling my phone wondering if anyone is truly happy. Things have changed for me recently. Watching people  I love return to active drug use has made me question a lot of things in my life.

When the seasons change, when the days get dark early, my mind turns to heroin. Maybe there isn’t even heroin left in the US but I can’t say even at 21 years sober, I don’t occasionally get an itch. It’s more of missing numbness- numbness with flashes of euphoria. The Holiday Season reminds me of all the things I don’t have. Both my parents are dead. I have debts. My mental health goes through various stages of instability. I’m no longer in that blind faith phase of 12 step where I am fully invested in the idea that if I do x,y,z- I’ll be fine. So here I am. Being active in a drug habit was fucking awful, don’t get me wrong. It’s cold now. A good vein is not easy to find when you are searching between two cars while your “friend” watches out for the police. There’s no joy in trying to figure out which limbs are the least infected. I often couldn’t feel my own legs because of the swelling from cellulitis mixed with dull nerves from constantly poking myself with a syringe. I’d lay unde...

I went to pull my pants off. The customer was anxious to get to the goods. Around the world in thirty minutes or hopefully less. The abscess on my upper thigh had busted this morning. The puss had dried into a crust that sealed my tights onto my body. I didn’t want to pull to hard. Not only would it create suspicions (“look no tracks”)- there were no visible marks on my arms. Those veins had exited long ago. Tugging too hard at the fabric of this Petri dish of a garment would be painful. He took a long pull from his pipe. I guess crack was somehow different from heroin. I had broken my    own rule here. Drugs and money didn’t mix. I liked my customers a little less rough around the edges. But today a girl has bills to pay. Find luck where you make it. “Shhh. Shhh.” The John whizzes past me to hit the light switch “Shhhhhh.” He hushes me again as he gets down towards the floor. The FBI clearly has this room staked out for his twenty shot. I’m glad I got my money upfront but...

Dear Readers, Folks that read this blog are all over the map with their drug use. Some of you are just starting out on this journey. I can only encourage you to get narcan, use safe technique, get advice from reputable sources, and take breaks. There are some that are midway through and have decided using drugs still works for you. And you know what- that is okay. You deserved to be treated with respect. Period. Humans have been using drugs for thousands of years. That isn’t going to stop because of prohibition. There are the vets of the drug war out there- I see you. You aren’t ready to stop but you don’t want to keep going either. That’s a tough place my friend. You don’t have to decide today but in the meantime, take better care of yourself baby. Finally, there are my pre and early recovery folk. Let me have a few words. There is no one way to do recovery. 12 step is not the only way. Yes, it is the dominant treatment but that doesn’t make it the best treatment. Sanitariums used...