When I first met Traci she was clean & sober. She was THE angriest craziest dike ( oh yes, she was and she would let you know real quick that she was, she thought the word 'lesbian' was too long) I had ever met. We became fast friends because I could see past the wall she put up. Ahhhh, rehab. 5 times that I know of. Clean for a while & then right back in the streets. Money not well spent. She struggled with bi-polar disorder and hated the way the drugs made her feel. But she LOVED the way heroin & alcohol made her feel. She would maintain for a while, then lose it. The last time I saw her I was bailing her out of jail for the umpteenth time, she was completely strung out, a shell of a person. I had to back away, she drained me. I didn't turn my back on her, I just stepped aside. I never met anyone who hated herself as much as Trace did. But she loved hard. I always knew I would get that phone call. I am surprised it took this long for it to come. I want to be angry at her but I can't. I guess I am in a way relieved. At last she has peace.
There's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.