• County Lines


A lot of the feedback I get from this blog is in relation to my anonymity. There seems to be a lot of concern about this particular area.

You need to take into account that these individuals do not even realise what they are doing is wrong. Short of printing their full name, I can assure you that they will never associate themselves with the individuals who I write about in this blog.

This gang took over my home for 7 months, we were not associated beforehand and we have not been associated since. We come from totally different worlds and opposite ends of the country. They may be a prominent County Lines gang in the area where they operate; but their cocksure attitude, bravado and bullshit, means they don’t recognise this. They do not relate to it and I’m pretty sure they don’t even understand the term County Lines!

(That is until they are standing in front of a judge getting sentenced to 5 years for possession with intent to supply.

In fact to be perfectly blunt; I don’t even think there would be a spark of recognition upon hearing this term. Sadly I suspect there would be nothing more than a blank look on their faces!)

I am the first to admit that I can be a little melodramatic. But I write this with no exaggeration whatsoever.

I began writing this blog shortly after the gang took over my home and held me hostage for 7 months. I would write the blog posts when I went to the toilet- the only time I was never being watched closely by the gang. I hid a bust Android phone in the toilet cistern. I’m a whizz at touch typing- so I’d frantically type each blog post in minutes!

The reason for this blog is because I was being physically abused, sleep deprived, starved. I was breaking down mentally and physically. At the same time this gang were using very spiteful manipulative tactics to implicate me in their criminal activity. This was a result of the police making it pointedly clear to the gang, they were not going to give up until each gang member was put behind bars.

I have to admit, their combined effort to avoid arrest by implicating me was extremely clever.

I remember pitying them when they excitedly outlined their plan. Yet simultaneously feeling a begrudging respect at how their strategy was pretty much fail safe.

They were young teenagers, I was an adult. If I asked you who would be the boss and who would be the employee…the general consensus would be that the adult is the boss right?

I was a drug addict, none of the gang members were. If I asked you who had a stronger motive to make money…the logical answer is the drug addict. Class-A’s are expensive.

The gang were conducting criminal activity from my address, in my property…a burglar does not burgle his own home. A shoplifter does not steal the goods he sells. A car thief does not thieve their own car…does that make sense?

A group of young teenagers accusing an adult of forcing them to work as drug dealers. When the adult in question is a drug addict. The teenagers working from the home of the adult drug addict. Combined with physical evidence to back the teenagers accusations up. Text messages sent from the adults phone, instructing the teenagers to work. No evidence to defend the accusations being made against the adult. Eight or ten individuals reiterating the same story, against the word of a drug addict. Stereotyped as untrustworthy, and an all round scumbag…

I wrote this blog in a desperate attempt to document in as much detail, the day to day events that were going on around me. My circumstances were dire, but they could still get considerably worse. I can’t express in words the sickening dread that overwhelmed me more and more with every day that passed.

How on earth could I prove that text messages sent from my phone to the gang members, instructing them to work- had not been written by me, but written by the members of the gang? Their ploy was to implicate me enough to blame me for their actions which were illegal, against the law.

If by some miracle, my account of the situation was taken into consideration; who would actually believe the word of a drug addict. When drug addicts are notorious for lying.

Can you understand my begrudging respect now? I was utterly fucked. One lowly, lying drug addict with no evidence versus several sober individuals recounting the same story, backed with written proof.

I held up my hands in defeat. My regular frantic typing sessions on the toilet tailed off, and I spiralled into a totally catatonic numbness.

The quote “there are some battles you simply can’t win” was absolutely correct! This gang of County Line drug dealers had broken me psychologically and physically. Once you’re broken, you can’t be broken again.

It was less than a fortnight later a drug warrant was executed at my address. Whereupon I was arrested and charged. In the 2 years of hell I have been put through by the authorities; only two members of the gang have been served justice. I use the term justice loosely, for both gang members have already served their jail sentence and been released!

A further nine drug raids, thirteen arrests, eleven charges in relation to drugs and one prosecution for possession later… A chronic autoimmune disease caused by stress, of which I was diagnosed with, before being held hostage by the gang- had now become terminal due to the inability to access medical treatment for the seven months I was at their mercy.

My immune system which had collapsed from stress, had lead to multiple organ failure.

The original reason for starting this blog, has ebbed and flowed in so many different directions, I now have numerous reasons for why I continue to post. Some of those reasons are to benefit me, some are to benefit others. What I can say is that nobody aside from me; has any right to express their reasons for their opinion or judgement.

Whether you read this blog for entertainment, education, to gain awareness or help others- is nobody’s business but your own.

My mum used to say to me that you cannot judge another person unless you have walked a mile in their shoes, however, nobody has identically sized feet. Therefore you will never be able to walk a mile in somebody else’s shoes period.

When I meet an individual who has identically sized feet to mine, I will listen to your opinion until then, jog on ‘cuz’.

Nuff said. Safe ennit.

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