My Life as an Addict in NYC: A Drug Memoir

December 15, 2025

Michael Cline, Author and Freelance Writer

Tom O'Connor, Publisher

Addiction impacts all aspects of a person's life, including their physical health, mental health, personal relationships, and career. They may have issues fulfilling responsibilities at work, school, or home due to substance use or other activities.

Addiction is a treatable disorder. Research on the science of addiction and the treatment of substance use disorders has led to the development of research-based methods that help people to stop using drugs and resume productive lives, also known as being in recovery.

Author Michael Cline is a freelance content writer living in Spain and the author of two popular books: My Adventures in Tuva and New York City Junky Days. He is working on a sequel now called New York City Recovery Days.

According to Michael Cline:

From a young age, I dreamed of waking up in New York City and making it my home. In the late eighties, I turned that dream into a reality. Unfortunately, that dream quickly became a nightmare because I got caught up in my East Village neighborhood's favorite pastime. At that time, heroin sales and use were widespread in my neighborhood. Open drug sales were common, from Tompkins Square Park to many street corners in Alphabet City.

The police largely ignored this illegal activity, considering it part of the local character. In the eighties and early nineties, the East Village was somewhat rough, especially east of Avenue A. The area's reputation was built on its dive bars, gritty streets, crusty punk rock anarchists, squatters, and readily available drugs.

But the neighborhood wasn't just a hub of crime and addicts; it also had a rebellious spirit, home to many artists, poets, writers, and outcasts who didn't fit in elsewhere. While living there, Joey Ramone, Iggy Pop, and Allen Ginsberg lived just a few blocks from my St. Mark's Place apartment. To highlight how much things have changed, my two-bedroom place used to rent for just $950 a month, which was considered expensive for the East Village.

Childhood Trauma

I come from humble and traumatic beginnings. My rebellious teenage mom gave birth to me in Trenton, NJ, in 1965, and my early life was a mix of uncertainty, chaos, and constant moving. Dad left before I had my first candle on the birthday cake and passed away from cancer six years later. My mother would join him seven years after that, following her fight with illness. Orphaned at age 13, my maternal grandparents took me in and did their best to raise me and protect me from the horrors of life. Despite their efforts, I was damaged from my childhood, married young, and moved to New York City to run away from my past.

When I moved to the neighborhood, I brought with me boatloads of childhood trauma, all of which I had stuffed into some deep place within my mind. With heroin use so common, I eventually became interested in what was so special about it. I wanted to give it a try, more so out of curiosity and not for any self-healing of the demons I suppressed. Unfortunately, upon sniffing my first line, I knew that dope was my cure. Oh, how wrong I was.

Big Boys' Club

Within a few months, I joined the Big Boys' Club and went from sniffing to intravenous use. And a few months later, I graduated to the needle; my bad choice cost me my job, my marriage, my bank account, and my self-esteem. Although I didn't see it at the time, I was hooked from the first time that poison entered my body.

While I did have a few friends who were also addicted, anyone else that I knew who wasn't using heroin began to shun me. I spiraled down quickly, and to make things easier, I no longer tried to hide my drug use. I started to wear my addiction as a badge of honor, as someone who was truly living the East Village experience.

One of the many unfortunate parts of heroin addiction is how it distorts your thinking. While my childhood trauma had been completely repressed, the lifestyle takes a hard toll on your body, mind, and spirit. I still believed that my drug use was somehow saving me when, in fact, it was doing the exact opposite. And the worst part is when you reach the point where the dope no longer brings any pleasure at all, and it becomes a daily requirement to feel normal.

The New York City Department of Health reports 616 opioid-related deaths for the first quarter of 2024. This truly saddens me that addiction is still alive and thriving all these years after I found my way out of that deathtrap.

A Stranger Who Planted a Seed of Hope

Compassion can come in many forms, and for an active addict, it's rare. The last few years of my addiction had me shoplifting and panhandling to buy the drugs that were needed just as much as oxygen. If I couldn't get a bag of dope every few hours, the pain of withdrawal would grace me with its horribleness. It's a rugged cross to bear, leading many to do things against their true nature.

One day, while being far too dope-sick to shoplift, I took to the mean streets of Manhattan with a discarded paper coffee cup, begging for handouts. I had grown used to being a ghost on the streets, as my fellow New Yorkers ignored me daily, fearing I'd interrupt their busy, meaningful lives.

However, on this particular day, a stranger approached me, asking only for the truth in exchange for $10 to help me get straight for the next few hours.

He was from a different race and religion from me. And because of his kindness, I opened up in the most honest and raw way. While I didn't immediately get clean after meeting him, I made my first attempt a couple of months later because of his compassion and 

how he treated me like a human being, not trash. He planted a much-needed seed of hope.

Although I still vividly remember our conversation and his loving kindness, that chance 

encounter happened almost 30 years ago. Eventually, I did get clean and stay clean. 

*If you liked this article, you might like Chad Perdue's recovery journey.

My First Book

My first book, MY ADVENTURES IN TUVA, describes me as a recovering addict who stumbles upon the mesmerizing music of Tuva—and it changes his life. What begins as an unexpected obsession in 1999 leads him to meet legendary Tuvan musicians (Alash, Huun Huur Tu, Chirgilchin), travel to the Center of Asia three times, and discover a world few even know exists—packed with humor, heartache, and adventure. This can be your guide to an unforgettable journey. Tuva is a remote, biodiverse Russian republic in southern Siberia, inhabited by traditionally nomadic, yurt-dwelling tribes.

My Second Book

A year after moving to Barcelona in 2020, I wrote my second book, an honest story about 

NYC and heroin addiction. New York City Junky Days combines a drug memoir, a history of East Village gentrification, and a realistic look at life in the East Village in the 80s and 90s. This book is for anyone who enjoys reading about the darker side of life with a happy 

ending. There are plenty of books about addiction, but mine resonated differently. Recovery is possible, and addiction can happen to anyone.

My Third Book

Over the last few years, I've had plenty of random readers reach out to me, asking when my proper recovery began. Junky Days ends with a stranger planting a seed of hope, but no real details about how I finally kicked my habit. I'm pleased to announce that I've begun working on a sequel. For now, its working title is New York City Recovery Days, and it delves into finally kicking the monkey off my back, my continued struggles with self-worth, and eventually finding freedom and my higher self in Peru. I hope to publish in January 2026.

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Michael Cline can be contacted at Michaelcline2323@gmail.com.

NEW YORK CITY JUNKY DAYS NEW YORK RECOVERY DAYS: From Addiction to Ayahuasca: Finding Freedom and My Higher Self (Coming soon)MY ADVENTURES IN TUVA

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