“Hunters”, hairdressers and… no hope (not even Bob Hope).

Thursday the 24th May 2018

This is going to be an weird write up I think because I’ve just been watching something that’s made me feel a bit uncomfortable on Facebook and I’ll not be able to get past it until I mentally file it; i.e. write about it. So sorry in advance….

It was odd. Not as in “how did they do that?” though –  I think we all learned yesterday that I’ve no patience for “magic”; I’d not be caught entertaining that sort of shite but odd as in “I’m not sure how I feel about this”. It was a video of a newly formed group of “hunters”  round here who are trapping local paedophiles or would be predators by posing as decoys on the internet. The Facebook page looks like it was only just established at the end of April and already it has over three and a half thousand followers. In Fife, that’s massive. My own personal news feed is full of re-posts of this crowd doing live protests outside known or even unknown sex offenders homes, or live confrontations of individuals who have attempted to groom decoys posing as kids on the web. I should say that so far it doesn’t look like a pitchfork and fire type affair, they’re not physically laying their hands on the accused/guilty, nor are they endorsing anyone else does. The “team” seem to be recording everything for both their own protection and that of the accused/guilty. The police, if they are alerted at all, aren’t able to do anything to stop them because technically they’re not breaking the law. In fact, in some of their videos they seem to be showing up whilst calling the police to deal with the individual and the evidence they have.  The comments on the video feeds are brutal; which is understandable with this type of crime but it’s the speed in which they’re able to publicise this news I feel really uneasy with – a lot of it is live, and they’re inviting members of the public to come and join them. Now,  I can understand why members of the public are taking things into their own hands; no one wants these sorts of fuckers in their community and around their kids and it must SEEM like the police aren’t acting quick enough, or fast enough – so they’re sorting it themselves. They’re not trained for this sort of activity though…. but the police are and herein lies the catch 22.  The police are doing what they can with what they have, but they can’t be everywhere at once, nor do many of the forces have the resources or fund to have dedicated teams conducting ongoing investigations into what “might” be happening in society. They appear to most of the public to be missing all sorts because they’re stretched too far. So I guess I feel oddly conflicted; these individuals are devoting a huge amount of their time and effort into this, and it IS highlighting individuals to the police that may have been under the radar….. but they’re not professionals and what happens when something goes drastically wrong? When the wrong sort of nasty fucker pulls a knife or a gun, or when the public get caught up in emotion and decide that peaceful protests aren’t for them and they’d rather skin the bastard instead…. what happens then? It will happen, it’s only a matter of time before mob mentality intrudes on peaceful protest. There’s no doubt that getting these people off the streets is a GOOD thing; the intentions of the “team” seem well meant and as a mother I’d be grateful to know if there were ANY threats to Eli in the local area so that I can safeguard my child. I also think its admirable that people want to look after their own community and say enough’s enough; pride and accountability in where you live and breathe is hugely important for social and economic sustainability but this? No, THIS sort of shit can go very wrong very quickly and although I don’t know what the answer is, I can’t think this is the best way to handle it. So I’m sat here feeling uneasy to be honest. Uneasy for the “team”, uneasy for the members of the pubic and even uneasy for the criminal because human nature is SO unpredictable that anything could happen. When those teams go “live” to thousands of people: when your audience is THAT large, they have, whether they realise it or not, a huge responsibility to control that situation. They’re not just fucking around being single gobsters; they’re directly responsible for encouraging large numbers of people onto the streets, and houses around a suspect or criminal and they  have NO IDEA how those numbers of people will behave.  The “team” may well have peaceful intentions but my biggest worry is that it turns sour and we end up with not only paedophiles, but murderers of paedophiles in our midst and its frightening to think that can all happen in the blink of an eye when someone momentarily lets rage take over.

It’s left me feeling like I should be doing SOMETHING but I have no fucking idea what. As it is, going for a hairdo has nearly finished me off so my chances of being even slightly effective in any other pocket of life today is entirely unrealistic; I’ll need to save the world another day I think. Yes, I went to the hairdressers which may seem positive but unfortunately it was a huge fucking own goal on my part. On the plus side, the salon was really really quiet and I was actually the only person in for the most part; which meant less peripheral noise – there weren’t multiple conversations about piles, or shoes, or holidays or noisy hairdryers blowing and I was incredibly relieved that I seemed to be managing OK. In fact the first 40 minutes or so were manageable but I could have happily gone home after that, which wasn’t an option because I had chemicals on my hair and looked like the shittest R2D2 in town.  I had to see it through, I couldn’t just walk out like that so I sat and pretended to look through my phone – I was pretending though, my screen wasn’t even unlocked but it meant none of the hairdressers interrupted me to chat… I’d have struggled. So the colour came off, it got cut and for the first time in over 2 months my hair was blow dried; I know what you’re thinking “ahhhhhhhh I bet that felt lovelu didn’t it?”. No my darling it didn’t,  it was fucking torture, sorry to shit on your happy feeling but the noise, the heat, the brush – all of it, just felt like one big torment. I’m not sure I can explain how it feels but I’ll have a go; imagine you’ve got the flu (sore, heavy, knackered etc), but you’ve also got a hangover and all of the blurriness that comes with still feeling a bit pissed from the night before… and you feel like you’ve got everything on delay by 5 seconds. You’ve got goosebumps as sharp as glass coming out all over your body and it’s almost like every sound has been turned up and distorted. It’s like that, but worse and it’s fucking awful. It was so bad I’m not sure it’s something I’d put myself through again when I feel this bad. My greys will need to come back in and run free unless I’m feeling more like myself next time. As it is, I’ve been home for nearly 2 hours and I’ve had no option but to lie down with the curtains drawn and my blanket up round my neck.

I’d love to stay here until it’s bed time but Christiaan’s back at work today (sob) and Eli needs picking up from nursery so I’m going to have to get myself back out and go and fetch him. This is what day to day life and M.E. fight about most; the stuff that needs doing versus the energy reserves I have left. I need to get back into the car but I can only hope that I can get back out again and walk up the tiny wee hill to the nursery door. It sounds dramatic but that’s pretty much what it’s going to boil down to today – and all because I wanted to go and get my fucking hair done. Honestly, I’m such a twat. I shouldn’t have gone – who the fuck sees me these days anyway apart from Christiaan?

Here, listen to this while I go out and collect bollockchops… call it an interval – CLICK HERE (it’s not porn honest).

Right I’m back – told you wasps were fuckers (you’ll not get that if you didn’t click up there where I told you to).

I managed the whole car and picking up bollockchops obvs, otherwise there’d be no more after the last paragraph. Eli is home, happily singing and I don’t have to go out again hoooooray! I’m just about to serve a combination of left overs for dinner because I’m lazy so we’re having; the cooked chicken breast that was left out of the fake chinese curry from two nights ago, through the left over casserole sauce (think a thick mixed pepper sauce) from last night (plus a sausage for Eli pie) alllll stirred through some pasta with some frozen peas and sweetcorn. It sounds a mess but it’ll be tasty, healthy and more importantly; easy.

I’ve also just had a call from the docs receptionist about my bloods, I got excited thinking they’d found something significant and that’s why they were calling, but it’s just that my folic acid is slightly lower than they’d like so I need supplements. This has absolutely no bearing on how I’m feeling at the moment unfortunately – it’s like an added extra, a Brucie Bonus if you like. Everything else was fine. I’m absorbing vitamins like I should and that crashing noise you hear is the sound of my last bit optimism hitting the deck; because that’s it now, we’ve exhausted everything. It can literally be nothing else bar M.E. causing the pain now, unless my brain actually explodes with these nuggets that are camping out in there and it transpires they’ve been sending funny signals all this time (impossible I’m told). Meh. Just as well I wasn’t pinning my hopes on finding the answer to my problems I guess, but it would have been nice for them to say “Eureka! Mrs Mellars, we have SOLVED the mystery of the universe and your health! You don’t have enough hoojamaflip in your blood; take this magic talc and after you throw it at a hundred wasps it’ll solve all of your problems IMMEDIATELY”. Fuckers.

Never mind, tomorrow’s Friday (obvs burger night) and it’s a bank holiday on Monday so I’ll have a smashin long weekend with my boys. Cuddles and laughs are needed; good for soul, low impact and free… perfick 👌❤️

The end

  • Highlights
    • I didn’t die at the hairdressers which was nice, also the greys are gone
    • Another good night for Master Elijah Pie… feels funny writing Elijah, we always just call him Eli unless he’s a naughty wee fucker and then it’s “Oi, tiny twat, stop it” (you know I’m kidding…)
  • Lowlights
    • I was suspicious of my ability not to die at the hairdressers; the drive home in particular was fucking awful
    • Apparently no instant fix for my health, which I knew, but was also secretly hoping for SOMETHING
    • In addition, I need more folic acid so as well as supplements I’ll be gorging on spinach like fucking popeye
  • What’s on the menu Mellars?
    • Breakfast…. I decided to go for it because I’d be out at lunch time so I made a frita-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta with 2 baby potatoes, a single bacon medallion, a whole red onion, 7 mushrooms, 2 eggs and some smoked paprika. It was nice to be honest.
    • Lunch – Nil
    • Dinner – Already detailed above, chicken pasta with casserole sauce (more like a pepperonata sauce)

Are you new round here?

If you’ve just stumbled across TryingToDoItAll and have no bastarding idea what’s going on you should probably go back and read a few blogs from the beginning. Don’t panic, I won’t ask you to read them all, but these few posts will help explain. Oh stop sighing, it’ll only take you a few minutes. Fucks sake.

  1. Well you’re here, so you may as well get comfy
  2. Can’t stop M.E. now…. ahmm having such a good time, ahmm tickling your balllssss!
  3. When are the grown ups coming?
  4. Major surgery…again?
  5. You’ve got to be kidding M.E.?

#mecfs #meawarenessuk #mewarrior #silentillness #swearymum

#ThisisME

2 thoughts on ““Hunters”, hairdressers and… no hope (not even Bob Hope).

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