• County Lines

If I don’t laugh I’m going to cry

Apparently Mr Boss Man has decided to expand his empire and open up a nursery.

For the past 3 days I’ve had an endless stream of young teenage drug runners turning up on my doorstep. All pleading with me to let them stay while they do their shift, or asking for money to get food because they’re hungry. But what’s most upsetting is that they.are all in the same situation…in debt up to their eyeballs, working for free to pay it off, and very obviously terrified under all that gangsta slang and cocky bravado.

Even though it’s heartbreaking to see the look of panic and disappointment cross their faces every time I say ‘no’, I keep reminding myself that these kids are being sent here for that very reason- to break my heart so I let them in. Well it’s not happening. For once in my God damned life, I’m putting MYSELF first.

Since the gang have been gone, my life has changed DRAMATICALLY. It’s noticeable even to me. I was so anxious and tense all the time; I’d spend every day with painful jaw ache from gritting my teeth so hard, and get agonising pain in my shoulders and neck. That’s completely disappeared; I don’t get any pain at all anymore.

The other day I realised just how much more energy I have now I can afford to eat. They would spend every penny I had so I had nothing left for food. It got to the stage where I was so drained I could barely move. I was literally too weak to talk. Sometimes, I’d be sat in the corner starving hungry while they walked through the door laden with takeaways for themselves.

They did that with everything. I never once slept in my own bed. I was relegated to the sofa- if I was lucky. Mostly though, they would torture me by making sure there was no way I could fall asleep at all.

They were forever finding ways to ruin my clothes too. They’d make a point of spending all my money on expensive, designer clothes for themselves, which would leave me unable to afford replacing my ruined ones.

Cont…25/09/18

I wrote myself into a bottomless hole of misery and have been wallowing in self pity ever since. I got really, really upset remembering the way they all treated me. But what upsets me the most is the fact that I couldn’t put a stop to it.

Whatever. I’ve danced in my knickers, poured myself a vodka and am feeling much better.

I’m a criminal now I have to toughen up.

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