So remember how my mother bullshitted about “financially embarrassed” & therefor being unable to “go on holiday” & that they’d have to “rent a camper van” to live in during the two weeks of October that the bathroom was being refurbished? – For a whole £5,000 (that’s 10,000 dollars by the way).

Well whoopdyfuckingdo if I didn’t find the travel agent receipt next to the phone this morning for a cosy 14 nights in Portugal from the 5th of October onward for a whopping £2,000 & change. For three people no less ; My stepfather, my mother &….wait for it…his mother!

How romantic I know, but the guy did live with her till he married my mother at 40 lets not forget.

The best bit? The receipt was from the 15th of September. That was Monday, it’s now Wednesday the 17th…

Last night my mother bullshitted yet again in front of my aunt about how they “didn’t know what they were going to do”, maybe they’d “stay in a friends house nearby”, “couldn’t afford to go away”, “inconvenience & pressure for us all”.

I’m not sure how to approach this one. I think I’m going to just leave it & see exactly when they were planning on telling me. It’s not like it’s a whole 2 weeks away after all.

Nor is it bang in the middle of a police investigation either. Apparently it’s safe for me to be alone now? So I can answer the phone & the door & be unafraid that my abuser might be waiting behind it?

Just another example of how I am treated like a child, or even worse, like a degenerate. So unimportant as to be included nor even worth being given the knowledge about these decisions. I don’t even understand why it’s all such a big secret & frankly, even though I’m fighting it tooth & nail, it does hurt.

But you know what, fuck them. I hope they enjoy their fortnight in the sun. Mind the skin cancer now.