So yeah. i moved out on Monday. I'd been living out of a suitcase for two weeks, and since when I left I only picked up said suitcase and walked off, I guess this is my third week. I can't face eating for the most part. Today's the first day i've been properly up and dressed and made up and worn my full set of extensions.
The brief version of the story is, my stepmother and I have never really got on. She overstepped the line on Monday night when she sat, knowing I'd hear, and yelled all this bullshit about me, my mother and my nan. She tried to stop me leaving but I just said I was leaving for good. I stayed as calm as I could, I didn't even curse at her. But after what she said to me and what she said to my mother - as far as I'm concerned, she means nothing to me. I even deleted her off of my facebook friends lolol.
Dad isn't speaking to me. He didn't stop her talking like shit to me, so tbqh I'm not gonna initiate conversation. Apparently he's okay, even if he did threaten to kill himself Monday night. I was always a daddy's girl until that fucking whore of a woman came and wrecked everything. It's still all I've been thinking about. He's sending my mam nasty texts but hasn't got the balls to answer her phonecalls. I feel like one of the kids they talk about on Jeremy Kyle tbh. He said in one of the texts that wants my keys back so I can't just turn up when I feel like it.
The twofaced bitch was screaming abuse at my grandmother, who has practically raised me. And my spineless father wouldn't stand up to her. That's the woman who squeezed him out of her fanny, if you'll excuse my bluntness. If your eldest son won't stick up for you, who will, y'know? But apparently then when my nan went over (oblivious to her backstabbing) and got upset (my nan suffers really badly with depression, which is something my stepmother loudly blamed on me Monday night) apparently the bitch had the cheek to put her arms around her and y'know, comfort her.
I'm fighting back tears, now, writing this. After thirteen years where my family fought and fought to do what made me happy, and refused to ever let me see them argue, she comes in like a troll and ruins it. And my father is oblivious to it! He had the cheek to say "I don't know why she gets all the blame"!
I don't know what I want, apart from my stepmother to go die. And believe me, I mean it. I have nothing for her, but pure, unadulterated venom. If I had stayed in that house, I would've pulled a Lizzie Borden act. I want dad to talk to me, but there really is nothing to say.
I'm going now. This is starting to trigger me into cutting myself. And so far, I haven't taken a razor to my arms once. And if I can help it, I don't plan to change that, though I'm dying to. Ugh.
So yeah.
Tarrar.
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