There was a lot going on I wasn't aware of for months. But once Blaze lost his runner and starting moving Ice on his own... the shit got bad. He wasn't playing around with the recreational drug user anymore. Over the coming months our family home become an ice den. We had a huge 'man cave' (shed) in the backyard that was carpeted and pretty much our party room pre-baby. But by February 2012 is resembled a crack den, complete with safes, scales, money counting machines and of course drug paraphernalia.

The slow rumble of competition on the streets for 'business' had began. He was the new boy on the stretch, selling better Ice than that coming out of Adelaide, and he was beginning to get noticed.  Blazes' whole persona and image changed. You expect the behaviour of a drug user/dealer to change absolutely. He went from a hot aussie surfie boy to a greasy 'Everlast' trackie pants and bum bag dealer. With too much jewellery and bad taste in t-shirts. I didn't recognise the change overnight.... gosh I was so besotted with my new baby and sleep deprived that I clearly didn't notice much. 

But it wasn't long until some local dealers and a notorious motorcycle gang got word of his business and he started to ruffle some feathers.

It must have been early March 2012 when he came home the first time after being attacked at the local service station by 3 men. A little bloodied and ruffled, a few dents to the new wheels, Blaze seemed a little shocked. In broad daylight, and over within minutes I think perhaps that may have been one of the first moments he realised that this situation was going to get ugly. It wasn't going to stop him, but he decided protection was needed.

And then 'it' arrived. A gun. I have no idea where Blaze got it from, and I guess I was just too naive to really comprehend how serious the drug dealing had become over such a short period of time. I found it under the couch in the man cave. Like literally just under the couch. I freaked! First of all where did you get it??  Secondly and more importantly, WE HAVE A CRAWLING BABY IN THE HOUSE. Thirdly.... get fucking rid of it!!! But not a word a said made the distance between my mouth and his ears. I had become a nothing, my opinion meant nothing, my choices meant nothing. Blaze was doing exactly what he wanted and with whomever he wanted. His head was so big it was the size of a hot air balloon.

Not much later than that, maybe 4-5 weeks later, I had the mothers group over to my house, when two policemen knocked on the door. Blaze wasn't home at the time. Opening the door with 4 babies all crawling around the policeman advised there had been a crime stopper report that Blaze had an unregistered handgun at the property and did I know anything about it. I lied of course. Said no and closed the door. They waited outside for the another hour waiting for Blaze to return. I had text him of course. 

That was it for mothers group for me. Imagine the shock of the mothers in the room at the allegation and the police being there at all. My pathetic shock and cover up. I lost them. Only one continued to stand by me. But I can't blame them. I would have done the same. Who would want to hang out with that kind of mother?! And so again, I found myself isolated as a young mum.  When Blaze finally did come home that night (without the gun temporarily) he blamed me for it all. It was my fault they came. I either called them myself or my mouth was so big and I had told so many people about it that word had got out - none of which was true BTW, why would I brag about an illegal handgun in my home. But it was Blaze's manipulative and narcissistic way of gas lighting me and reflecting it back on me - making me feel guilty and crazy all at once....