The original trapper showed up on my doorstep on Christmas Day. In all the chaos with my friends kid, I completely forgot. He stood there, fresh out of prison with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. And for a split second all I saw was a naughty teenager who was so very familiar to me, for all the wrong reasons but nevertheless, I instinctively reached out and gave him a hug. He asked me about some rumour going around that I’d apparently spread about him. He kept me engaged

I managed to persuade the kid to go home last night. He got back and she wasn’t even there. She didn’t get in till after midnight. All the while I’m recieving texts at the hotel from her stating that she’s “so desperately worried about him, she’s called the police to report him missing”. Neither the kid or I let her know he was sat at home for hours while she was texting me this. If she had been at home- which is where I’d be glued to if I had a kid go missing; ears pricked f

Why do I constantly end up in situations where I’m backed into a corner by somebody? My best mate has a teenage kid who was so unhappy living at home, and had built up so much anger and resentment; the kid rang the social services on her and asked to be put into care. The kid was always running away, ended up living in a shed, openly talked about wanting to commit suicide, was involved in an incident that resulted in him being arrested, didn’t go to school because he’d been e

Yes, STILL. It’s Christmas Eve and the police still haven’t decided if I’m a child grooming drug baron or not. The most fucked up part about it is that the original trapper just got a two-year suspended sentence, and his sidekick who was sent to jail for dealing drugs; is just about to be released after finishing his sentence. I’m afraid to admit that I have admitted defeat and started hitting up in the hope that one of the syringes full of heroin will kill me. Yes. REALLY

I feel like I’m in suspended animation. I’m going forwards, not going backwards- time has stopped and I’ve stopped with it. My crazy, erratic emotions which were swinging from manic hysteria to suicidal despair and everything in-between are beginning to subside. I’m still swinging from one to the other; but not as intensely. It seems turning into a crazed, knife wielding psycho is the answer to successfully removing a gang of drug dealers from your home. So the relentless fig

I’ve made a monumental fuck up. The catastrophic result of Class-A chemically induced confidence combined with an almighty drunken tantrum. I vaguely remember declaring “well…if the police are going to fuck with me, they better be prepared to get fucked up the arse themselves!”, but that’s about it. I just presumed that, like every other night- I ended up in a snotty, sobbing heap on the floor wailing “my life is ovverrrr”. But apparently not. Apparently I actually went and f