So I got rid of crazy Kate. Who still endeavours to send me abuse via the anonymous comment section of this blog. Now Nigel. Who before today, was known a N, or possibly Nie.
So... I met Nigel back in 2005 through H, another crack head who’s turned all crazy numerous times before. Although, I’ll give H the benefit of doubt, as like myself, she’s a functioning addict. Still doesn’t escape the nasty behaviour that seems to be a prerequisite of their personality.
We became friends. H used to smoke a lot with Nigel and basically let him believe she was his girlfriend, whilst in reality she was just fucking him for a free roof over her head.
When she found her next partner (which she fucked up for her love of sleeping around and crack cocaine), I began to see more of Nigel. He would come to mine 1-4 times a week. I relied on him for subutex prior to getting my own script. As he was incredibly in love with me, he never let me down. I respect him for that.
Then when I moved, he moved in. I made it clear we we’re not together, but he got insanely jealous of when I had a couple of guys over or when I was dating a couple of girls.
He was not my boyfriend and I had never lead him on. He had his own room in my house, so it was none of his business who I fucked.
Before I disclosed my intravenous addiction to my family, due to my friend, she’s another H, so we’ll call her HC discovered a needle, clearly she alerted my family (as she’s still got my mother on her list of ‘friends’) and this is when the madness started.
Obviously, not aware it was me who introduced Nigel to the needle, he was the enemy.
So initially they placed their crazy efforts on making him believe he was crazy.
They convinced him I had ‘a man’ hidden in my house. And craziness perused.
Eventually we sorted things out, but due to his ‘real’ mental health issues, his belief of ‘the man’ never vanished.
I tried, on numerous occasions, that explain if my parents could do the actions which lead to my subsequent sectioning, then they could have easily have done the same to him.
He was obsessed I was sleeping with L from next door, who was 16 at the time. He’s also white. I have never screwed a white guy.
There’s plenty of tales of his crazy behaviour during this period listed on this blog.
At one point, when I was yet again consuming way too many drugs, we began to socialise with crazy crack head Kate and her new partner Steve. I only met Kate as I was forced to have another emergency detox due to my parents crazy behaviour.
The drugs and seeing them to as a couple made me do something I will always regret. Not only did I agree to go out with Nigel, but I agreed to marry him. I was fucking high as a kite at the time, and crazy crack head Kate had been pushing for it for ages.
This was around the end of August 2015. I started taking atomoxetine around October for my ADHD, no stimulant meds for me. I had horrific side effects to this, one of the main ones was anxiety.
By November using this was a perfect excuse not to hold the toothless crack head’s hand. I’d blame the anxiety. But in reality, I couldn’t stomach touching him anymore. The only times we ever had sex, coincided with copious use of drug and / or alcohol.
By January the cheap ass £70 ‘engagement’ ring had broken, and not long after I finally admitted I did not want to be with him anymore.
We remained friends.
Whilst I am angry at his recent behaviour, as you are aware, I’m always honest. ADHD means my short term memory is incredibly poor, so there’s no point in lying.
Whilst we had a major argument when he discovered me and R*** had been messing around together, after I loss my job in June 2017, he saved my life. He easily paid two of my mortgage payments.
Chronically depressed he’d leave for work whilst I lay, numb, emotionless in bed. He’d return to find me in the exact same position he left me in. He cleaned. He cooked. Without him I would not have eaten at all.
So, we commenced living together again.
Although there were some rather traumatic times, we stayed together. Nigel clearly started to believe we were together.
R*** came over on a couple of occasions and naturally we wanted to sleep together. Explosive arguements would follow, or we’d find his phone hidden, on record in my bedroom.
Whilst I am, and always will be, eternally grateful for his help in times when my life was incredibly dark, by January 2018, cracks began to show.
If I returned home from work before him, I would sigh as I opened the door. I longed for my ‘me’ time.
Orion stopped sleeping with me, and when we argued not long after adopting Cyra, he took her hostage, leaving me in a flood of tears.
This coincided with me having pneumonia. Weak and frankly, pretrified I was going to sleep and not wake up, I stupidly let him return to my house.
Unable to do my house work, the mess was piling up and felt like it was an feat one could not achieve alone.
However, this period, from August until April, was not pleasant.
Although Nigel was working and still claiming over £900 of benefits, his money never lasted more than two days.
Yes, he contributed to my bills, but it was me having to buy food and drugs bar the 10 days out of 30 when he had money in his pocket.
I knew it was time to get rid of him when I had had a few glasses (possibly bottles... if you’ve taken zolpidem and drink alcohol you’ll understand) and a zolpidem tablets. I remember passing out in a coma.
I awoke to that dirty piece of shit fucking me. ‘Apparently’ I woke up and came on to him. I know once I pass out in a zolpidem / alcohol coma, I DO NOT WAKE UP.
The piece of shit was raping me.
Then there was the time he asked for a sleeping tablet, so I gave him one. He put it on the side. I was already suspicious of Nigel due to my needles suddenly having holes in, even fresh ones. You could easily see someone had manoeuvred the lids off whilst still in their packets and a teeny hole could be see in the clear plastic cover. When each one was opened, none of them were air tight, as a teeny hole had been pierced through the needle too.
Bizarrely enough, this problem, never happened to Nigel. It gave me flash backs to being at his, and the same thing happening. Nigel would be guarding the one ‘undamaged’ needle with his life.
So, sensing the air was causing me to be wary of him, I placed my handbag on the windowsill. I slept on the sofa... it was certainly out of his reach.
I woke up to find my handbag on the floor next to him. Immediately I went mental.
‘I couldn’t sleep!’ He claimed. Yet the tablet I gave him earlier was in the exact same position he left it in.
When I questioned this, ‘apparently’ he had taken the original pill, got a second pill, but two came out, and he placed the ‘third’ pill in the exact same position in which he left the earlier, original tablet.
This was enough for me to ask him to leave, I then discovered my ladder was missing. This was especially annoying, as I am moving soon, and he has screwed up the loft hatch like a psychopath to keep ‘the man’ out.
When I questioned this, ‘apparently’ I was fully aware I had given him permission to loan my ladder.
The ladder never reappeared.
Another biggie was my request for him NOT TO BUY HEROIN. I knew, if he did, I WOULD use it. And if I use it, there’s only one way it’s being used. Intravenously. Yet this kept happening, he would even bill a b spliff and smoke it in front of me, thinking I had lost my sense of smell.
His typical crack head behaviour was tiring. We had already had many periods in the past, when he was doing DIY work, I would find, many of my father’s decent tools and paintbrushes missing. Naturally he replaced these quality tools with shit from the £1 shop.
The final straw was on a Monday night, when his benefits would be in his account a midnight. Already pissed off over bag gate, I was happy to have the evening alone.
I hadn’t heard from him all evening, and by 11pm I texte him saying I was going bed and not to bother coming back.
I locked and barricaded it for extra protection, popped a couple of vallies and off I went. My Brands Hatch ADHD mind, began to slow down and quieten. I finally I began to dose.
However, my peace was short lived.
Come 1am I was woken by a loud crashing noise and dick head barging his way in.
‘Oh... I didn’t see your messages’ he lied.
He then pulled out a load of crack.
I said he wasn’t smoking it. I had already banished him to the dust / mould nite infested upstairs bedroom. He then lunged at me viciously demanding I gave him the crack pipe as he would sit and smoke upstairs alone.
Knowing either way I would be unable to sleep I reluctantly gave in and smoked with him.
I was unable to sleep until 5.30am.
We were awoken at 8.30am when his manager had been frantically calling him for the umpteenth time.
Rushing to work, I felt the world was against me as the bus was a 18 minute wait. Then when I arrived I saw the senior manager, who hated me and rarely came to our office, was at ours today.
I had already bullshitted some excuse about my prescription being messed up. The only relief was my ‘heads up’ about leaving, so I didn’t give a shit about passing my probation anymore.
Thankfully as he left, that morning, after another explosive argument that morning, he left his keys in the door.
Hopefully this meant he could no longer access my property.
He took with him my iPhone 7. I had originally agreed he could have the phone, but after the recent events, he was well aware I wanted this, and my ladder back.
Neither arrived... but a torrent of abuse did. And just like crazy crack head Kate, he’s resorted to anonymously posting on my blog. As his message was posted at 6.10am, I can only assume he got his benefits that evening and had been up smoking crack all night. What is wrong with these fucking crack heads. Why can they not just leave someone who wants nothing to do with them alone!
Here’s his post. It won’t be published.
So - I was hiding 3-4 men in a house I shared with someone who WOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE THAN A FRIEND COZ HE WAS A TOOTHLESS, UGLY CRACK HEAD WHO RAPED AND STOLE FROM ME!!
The best thing is, despite me hiding all these men in my house, who must have weighed less than 7 stone, as they climbed across my conservatory roof to get access to my bedroom, does he have an ounce of evidence of all these men? A photo? A sound recording? A video clip? Well nothing that’s ever materialised to me!!
The time in the bath... we had been banging up speed for fucking days.. and was getting on all lovely. I was sooooo fucking high I actually consented to sex. I must have been in opiate withdrawal, as I was horny. I don’t get horny on stimulants and excessive stimulant use hides the agonising pain of opiate withdrawal.
Anyway, after 10 seconds of ‘sex’ we ran a bath a jumped in it. Within 5 minutes he had switched from lovely and nice to crazy speed induced psychosis Nigel and jumped out the bath and vanished out of my house not much longer.
Apparently he had weed on him... I had no fucking idea. And who do I know to rob him anyway? My intravenous drug use, naturally, equated to loss of ALL FRIENDS.
I can only assume S is the guy I met in rehab. He was in the bloke’s rehab. But our friendship quickly dissolved as he relapsed badly. Every conversation revolved around him repeating the same statements and questions, as he was fuelled with more cocaine and alcohol than Peru.
The inability to have any type of coherent conversation resulted in me ignoring his calls. So yeah Nigel. He’s a great reliable ‘witness’ to have on your side.
That last paragraph is more evidence of how much crack cocaine has destroyed his brain.
He asked to be sectioned. And acted like a fucking mad man in the hospital too. I’m surprised he wasn’t. He made me waste my last £30 on fucking petrol to drive him there, only to start aggressively telling the receptionist I thought he was mad. Thankfully, whilst I do get paranoid, stimulants have the paradoxical effect on my ADHD brain, so I was calm and quiet.
R*** was too off her face to fucking remember withdrawing £200 off her credit card the night we ‘plotted’ to steal from him. And why would I need to ‘steal’ his coke. I clearly took way more than what I gave him. I was just out of rehab and had a mini fucking seizure that night. Yeah, one girl having a seizure, another blacking out coz she had a benzo and too much booze... yeah definitely the 2017 version of Bonny and Clyde in that fucking state. Dick.
And let’s explore some more. Insanely jealous of R*** the first time I made her scream he burst in looking for ‘the man’. Again, he just missed ‘the man’ who managed to jump out the window the same time he opened the door, whilst my tongue was otherwise busy.
Now, I’m already aware ‘someone’ photographed me smoking crack. Bar Nigel, at this time, I had no other friends.
Nigel was new to iPhones and didn’t realise that if you delete videos, they sit in ‘deleted items’. One day I found around 100 deleted videos on his phone. All of me. Again, never caught that damn ‘man’ did he.
This was our exchange after I caught him for the millionth time
When I say ‘weed’ I really mean crack... but I have no doubt, if people have pictures of me smoking crack, it’s thanks to him. My sick family probably bought the fcuking crack for him.
So this story, I found a video from a good few days before, which I know was correct, as my hair now was messy and tied back, yet in the video is was clean and down. Plus different outfit
Naturally having my family take away my privacy with their phone hscking, tracking and hidden cameras, this is a sore point for me.
Here’s more texts about me and the ‘man’. He’s accusing the poor kid next door. He’s a big lad. He’s never going to fit through one of my windows.
Now, I’d pay £100 for anyone who can provide these ‘videos’.
And when you RAPE SOMEONE, don’t cry over catching STDs. Should have worn a fucking condom before you did it. Thanks God your sperm are useless swimmers due to all the drugs
Then the next day I get this
Do I care that you and the crack head, who introduced me to fucking crack and heroin are going to meet some more crazy crack heads??
NO!!!!!
And well aware after raping me and stealing my ladder
And here’s what he said when he took poor Cyra hostage
And finally
I was actually going to give him £1,000 when I got the profit from selling my house to make up for when he helped me. Well not ‘give’ give him. I would have paid if off the £10,000 minimum debt he has. Not any more.
Nigel Belle. Crack head. Crazy. Thief. AND RAPEST.
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