I’m going to make this short & sweet, just for today.

Below the cut is an open letter to my family regarding the abuse by my uncle.

I haven’t sent it yet but I am planning on doing so in the coming week. I’m going to copy at least a dozen family members on this, including my abuser & his wife.

I would really appreciate any honest thoughts & feedback..

Thank you.

CC: …

I mean, really? A* went to the police because he’s fearful of my father? Because he received one scary little email? That’s rich. – What, did you really think it would all be peaches and cream?

Tell you what – Report this;

I am the victim here. I was the one who was abused, sexually & mentally from the age of thirteen until I left the country at sixteen. I go to the police & get nothing. Yet my rapist gets some sort of protection? Nice.

However, the buck doesn’t just stop at the police & this is why I’m writing an open letter to you all.

I believe every single one of you need to know what a profound impact A* has had on my life. I need you all to hear my voice & understand that this did happen & it is true. I feel like this has been swept under the rug, & in turn I feel that no-one will stand for me. Least up to now, no-one has. I do give thanks to the few who have given me some support, but generally, I do feel like I am alone here.

Back on August 6th 2008 I made my statement against him in America after family urged me forward months after they found out in November 2007. Since then I have faced a grueling battle with police for some sort of justice & closure, yet I have found neither. I have done everything I can, but Scottish law requires I have a witness or some sort of corroboration.

That’s how close it was, A*.
If we were in America you would have been charged & sentenced to a cold prison cell by now. The fact you have walked away legally scott-free is not because I am a liar or that I didn’t give enough evidence. It is purely because of how Scottish law stands.
However, I do believe that I am not the only victim here. Someone like you doesn’t just stop with one child. I know you better than that. And I can only hope someone else can nail your ass to the cross before your days are done.

I have no doubt there has been a lot of whispering, gossip & speculation. I notice a few people cannot even look me in the eye anymore. This is why I am writing this letter.
I did my part by making my statement & I’m doing it again by addressing the family.

It wasn’t until the day I found myself sitting across the table from the Detective that I finally woke up & realized exactly what he had done to me. All these years I had kept his words in mind. I believed it was my own fault & had managed to convince myself that nothing was actually wrong, almost to the point that nothing had even happened. But it was wrong & it most certainly did happen.
What he did has many titles but to name a few it was molestation, rape & incest. And it destroyed my life.

Apparently, if I told anyone he would “Lose his wife, children & business”.

Well, what about what I lost?!

A* took away my innocence, my childhood, my trust & my confidence. He took me away from my family, my friends & even my education. A* shattered my entire world. Everything that was ever good in my life, he warped if not obliterated.

As a result I am not the woman I should be today.
For years I’ve been walking around with this empty void inside of me, dealing with the intense problems that come with being molested & raped by not just anyone, but a trusted family member who lured me & everyone else into a false sense of security by, heaven forbid, showing an interest in me for the first time ever in my life. Little did I know it was purely because I had hit puberty. This was not an uncle looking to have a relationship with his niece, this was a predator looking for a victim.

Whether people really believe me or not, it doesn’t particularly matter. Because I know that if this haunts me, it sure as hell haunts him. Sometimes I wonder if he really did think I wouldn’t grow up & find the courage to tell anyone. I suppose it’s just a pity, that it took the best part of 8 years of my life to do so.

Little by little, I am trying to heal. But just as his nightmare over me didn’t occur over a day or two, neither will this. With the support of my immediate family & my American family, I will get there eventually. But thanks to him, I was never be completely free.

Finally, I want to urge those of you with children to be aware. Listen even to the whispers in the back of your mind. Trust your instincts, because on something like this, they will always be correct.
Don’t be naïve. A* was supposed to be my God Father, for Christ’s sake.
All the signs were there, but nobody was looking. I mean this wasn’t just one or two times, this was over a period of three years. So please, pay attention & don’t let your child navigate something like this alone.

Police aside, only A* & I know the truth of what went on all those years ago in his car, his work van, his old rental flat, my mothers house, my fathers house, his old house, his make-shift office in the old garage, & the now home he, his wife & children live in now.
Yes, interesting I know. Baby-sitting wasn’t the only excuse he came up with I’m afraid Diane.

Ultimately, A* will have to live with this for the rest of his life. Just like I do, as well as everyone else his evil has touched. But luckily for me, I start a fresh in America. A country he will never be allowed to enter, whether he wants to or not, I don’t care, he will never be allowed in.
The Scottish police force might be of little use, but  the American’s don’t play. They protect me just like they do their own citizens, one of which I will soon be. And from that day onward, just like the day I broke my silence, he will lose all control over me & my life.

Until then & ever there after, the wagons need to be circled & together this family needs to do what’s right. We have never been close I know, & maybe none of you even feel like you owe me anything. But I was thirteen, I was a child & well, if family means anything to you, I guess you have to listen to your own conscience on this don’t you.

Unlike A*, I cannot force anyone to do or say anything. I do not want to see anyone do anything illegal, simply because it is him & only him who needs to be punished.

I cannot force you to cut him out of your life, but surely, what he has done should be enough for him to receive some sort of repercussion. Some form of punishment. There are plenty of legal routes open to us. But I can assure you, sitting in silence & avoiding the issue is not one of them.

The police are no longer behind us, there is no legal punishment available.
As mothers, fathers, sisters & brothers, aunties & uncles, nieces, nephews & cousins, we cannot let him away with this. The only thing left is the family fall-out.
This is it.

Faithfully,

So my bags are packed & I’m ready to go. If only my dad would answer his phone.

I’m going to be here for another night at least, unfortunately, but it can’t be helped.

I really wanted to be gone for them coming home, especially after what happened this morning.

By this time I had been up, showered, been to the bank & walked the dog. All the while, he had been sleeping.

It was after 12:30 & I was sitting on my bed, watching t.v. & checking my emails when he literally burst in. For some reason I am strongly ashamed to admit that he frightened the life out of me. I don’t know why I feel embarrassed about this.. Anyway, this particular matter of privacy & not simply walking into my room was something I had brought up during our argument about respect the other night.. so it fits that he’s latched onto it – I’ve since left my door wide open, as an invitation to come on in & help me set up my restraining order against him.

So, he bursts in…

…& starts telling me I should be hitting the ground running again today, & that Bear, or his family would be so proud. Like he would know anything about my American family & their pride in me.

He left then, slamming the front door behind him.

Evidently he unplugged my Router again – I’m not sure what the purpose of that was, since all I had to do was plug it back in? – and by the way, that is my Router. The one I paid 60 quid for & brought back with me from down south after the split with my ex. Therefore, it will be coming with me when I leave here again in a few days – I’d be as well taking the laptop I gave to my mother with me since she’ll be screwed, no? Yeah, good luck setting up your dial-up again. I’ll leave that one for you to work out yourself.

Now, thankfully Bear was right there, as though he’d been waiting, when I phoned. I told him what had just happened & again, much to my shame, I cried & cried & cried.

I don’t understand why they have to make it so hard, why are they putting me through hell yet they couldn’t even phone nor go to my abusers door? Why is it me they’re gunning for?

After all that, I was determined to get up & go. I packed everything up & hounded my father – to no avail. I asked around friends – also to no avail.

“I hope you get things sorted with Brian”. They tell me. So blase, so.. insulting. Sorted? This man can’t be unsorted!

After talking with Bear about it a bit longer we decided it would be more adult to actually tell my mother I’m leaving than to just vanish in the night. I wasn’t planning on telling her with so much time left over to play with, but she kept poking at it & frankly, I enjoyed being nonchalant about things.

I also told her about what he did today – to which she told me, he’d told her, that he hadn’t seen me today. Once she’d soaked up all her pea sized brain could muster, she obviously went through to the living room to ask him about it. She then came back with the notion that I had “dreamt this”.

He flat out lied to her & honestly, it barely even bothers me. Because this is not my problem. She has repeatedly chosen him over me, her own daughter, her own flesh & blood. Therefore, she’s made her bed & she can lie in it.

I do find it funny however, that he did lie. And that she, oh so predictably, fell for it. Just like he’d planned of course but it is a bit of a tall tale to make out that I might be delirious.

If she thinks this is the best story I could make up, she has another thing coming. Because this is nursery school stuff. If he really wants to play, it’s on.

Before I leave tomorrow, or the next day even. I’d like to come up with a little something for him.

Truth is, Bear & I have spoken with Interpol about who can & who cannot enter the country after we marry – i.e. my abuser will be added to their list of undesirables, and in the man’s own words – “Just give us the name(s) & it’s done. It might take a week or two, but it’ll be done”... Brian. That list could well include you.

So, before I go… I’d like to say something to him about, oh I don’t know.. Giving my regards to Customs & Immigration – something that he won’t understand but will try to decipher over the coming months or year until he’s ready to pack up & come to America like he so ignorantly believes he can do – & his plane hits the ground in Newark or any other port & he is turned straight back around. Fact is, I’ve known this bastard a long time now, & I can guarantee such an incident will lead to him becoming enraged & subsequently, arrested.

Ah, it’s good to always be a few steps ahead, isn’t it.

You wanna see some mental, emotional abuse? Cause I got a lil something for you. Because once I have my Visa, me & my boys in USCIS are going to have a little chat.

This is the last straw.

The camels back is broken, in fact, fuck the camel – my back is broken.

I have had enough. I have put up with this bullshit all my life. This is it.

Fuck a wedding, this is no longer about our wedding. This is about my Visa & getting me back to America & as far away from these people as possible. And when that day comes, I will personally cut them out of my life, forever.

Make all the snide comments you like, look at me in all the wrong ways, I don’t care. But take away my one route of communication & support from my future husband? I don’t think so mother fucker.

That is exactly what my bastard of a step-”father” did tonight. And like always, my mother chose him over me. Always has done, always will do.

What sort of a man…

…bullies a 21 year old woman? Especially one who’s been through what I have? I say this like I’m surprised but, what sort of man is unable to stand up & talk, man to man when there is a problem?

He unplugged the phone & wouldn’t speak to Bear on my cell. Nor would my mother, surprise surprise. So I pushed Speaker, & Bear let rip. And I mean, let fucking rip.

All he could give back was “I’m missing my T.V program” whilst raising his middle finger.

A coward indeed.

After figuring I’d wasted enough International minutes on him, I retreated to my room where through the anger & tears I tried to explain to Bear what had happened, to no avail. I can barely process any of it.

For a second, my brain switched off & I lost control. Crying down the phone to Bear that I couldn’t cope with this anymore & that I was going to end up cutting myself again, after all this time. I cannot do this anymore. But just like that, he brought me back to him, telling me that they may have the power to make me cry & make me hurt inside, but they do not have the power to screw my Visa.

Not cutting is so important right now because of the full medical I have to get before my Interview. They will see my Doctors notes, they will see my old scars & they will ask questions. I need truth & more so, time on my side. I need to be able to tell them it’s been over a year, which it has, but I need to keep it that way.

They will refuse me entry if I have recent injuries.

They will refuse me entry if I have recent injuries.

They will refuse me my homecoming if I have recent injuries.

I cannot do this, I cannot fuck this.

Haven’t I been through enough? Haven’t I? Didn’t I grow up only seeing my father once a week if not less? Did I not live with a mentally unstable mother? Was I not bullied all the way from Nursery School till I finally walked the fuck out of High School? Am I not the victim of child sex abuse? Was I not kicked out of my own home at 16? Did I not spend three years of my life with a narcissistic, abusive boyfriend? And yet now, when I finally find my own slice of happiness.. everyone is turning on me, everyone is pushing down & trampling all over me.

I don’t know where to go from here. I can promise you though, once I have my Visa in hand – it’s on like Donkey Kong.

I am done with these people. I am done with all of it. Done.

I figure I could go to my dads & live out the next few months I have left there. There’s issues with that as well though. For a start they have no shower right now & for the foreseeable future. Plus, there’s no Wifi. That could be sorted though, if I can catch my dad in a good mood, or if like I’m preparing for just now, I get mobile wifi.

However, there will be big issues at my dad’s too I’m sure. But I cannot deal with that bastard & this weak, sorry excuse for a mother, any more.

I’m at a loss at which move to take next. As long as it doesn’t involve a blade, I think I’ll be safe, at least for my Visa. Right now though, I am in a very bad place both physically & mentally.

If it weren’t for Bear, I’d either still be in an abusive relationship or I’d be dead. Technically, I am still surrounded by abuse & it needs to end. I need to think of myself & what’s best for me. Fuck everyone else, obviously they don’t give a rats ass about me. Bear & I are on our own here.

I am glad I put him on speaker phone, even if it was shocking to hear. They need a good verbal ass fucking as far as I’m concerned.

However, I know he has my back, but we have an ocean in-between us. Here, on Scottish soil, I have no-one. Now & again I have my father, but frankly, he is very touch & go. I cannot rely on him to be there to fight for me like I can Bear.

I just want to be gone. I want to be home. I want all this bullshit behind me. Yet, I want to remember how these people made me feel so I can be sure when I burn my bridges. Time heals & makes us conveniently forget the details. Our minds can play tricks on us. But this, this I need to remember.

I have forgiven far too many times. I have said I’m sorry when no-one else will. None of these people, nobody in my family nor step-family, no-one who has ever done me wrong has ever said “I’m sorry”. It’s always me. Well, that’s no more. Never again will I apologize to someone who doesn’t deserve so much as to be in the same City as me.

There is only so many times one can go to the well – & this one I’m afraid, is empty. I have given all I’m willing to give.

Tonight I make the choice to say “Fuck you“. And soon, real soon, I’ll be showing you exactly what that means.

You are not my people. You are mentally unstable, vindictive, narcissistic, ignorant & evil people. From the start my gut-instinct told me things that nowadays I listen to & run with. Unfortunately I was only a ten year old girl & didn’t have anywhere to run to. However, I have hated you from the very beginning & that hatred has only grown deeper as time & experience has gone by.

I always have but I will say it again; I hate you more than the man who stole my innocence.You have done far more wrong to me mentally that he ever did.

Brian, I despise you & when the day comes, I will shit on your grave.

I’m angry because I wasn’t before.

I’m angry because I’m living in fear of him showing up on my doorstep or worse, creeping into my bedroom at night.

I’m angry because I can’t close my eyes at night without looking at the door or watching the window whilst listening for footsteps.

I’m angry because he is the last thing I think about before I go to sleep.

I’m angry that I’m so paranoid about seeing him.

I’m angry enough to throw away 10 & a half months Self-Injury free, just to feel some sort of release & comfort in myself.

I’m angry because my mother is the one going for counselling, reading the survivor & self-help books.

I’m angry because before she told me, I saw the books she bought, yet could barely look at them.

I’m angry because I was promised Closure in all this & got nothing of the sort.

I’m angry because the only thing being done right now is a couple of nasty emails by Bear & my father.

I’m angry because no-one else is doing anything.

I’m angry because my step-family treats me completely different from my blood relations.

I’m angry because I hear the whispering but no-one is brave enough to talk to me, let alone visit me.

I’m angry because of the way people look at me now & no, it’s not my imagination.

I’m angry because of all the lucky people out there who don’t seem to have a care in the world, yet it had to happen to me…

I’m angry because of the path of self-destruction the abuse sent me down.

I’m angry because it’s been years & yet my own psyche won’t allow me to cry.

I’m angry because everyone told me I was being selfish & it turns out it was the other way around.

I’m angry because people saw the signs & even questioned the goings on, but didn’t ask me.

I’m angry because no-one has asked whether I’m okay or not.

I’m angry because I’m not okay.

I’m angry because my mother seems suprised that I am so angry & still treats me like I’m a child – yet she failed there too.

I’m angry because she is the one who is having a “nervous breakdown”. What gives her the right to be suicidal?

I’m angry because my family don’t understand, yet keep wondering why I didn’t tell them.

I’m angry because the hatred I feel toward my family seems to be getting worse.

I’m angry because they all told me I should be feeling guilty & pounded me with pressure because I can’t let him away with it.

I’m angry because I was fine before yet was forced to bring this all back to the forefront & for nothing.

I’m angry because my family have failed me.

I’m angry because it seems to be all about them.

I’m angry because not once have I been offered any kind of support.

I’m angry because they don’t see how I could have used this as a weapon against them, in a most spiteful way yet kept it all locked up.

I’m angry because my step-father just couldn’t help himself but go through my journal a year ago, bringing us to this place in time.

I’m angry because it’s like there’s a giant elephant in the room, constantly, yet no-one talks about it.

I’m angry because when it is talked about it turns into a screaming match.

I’m angry because this is the first time I’ve truly felt anger towards not only him, but everyone else too.

I’m angry because the police failed me & my family hugely yet it’s all in a days work for them.

I’m angry because I just don’t know what else to do.

I’m angry.

How ironic that my mother is the one with the self help books on “surviving childhood sexual abuse“. My mother with the free leaflets & phone numbers. And alas, my mother who is receiving counselling from the Rape Crisis Center. I kid you not.

What ever happened to “Aria seems to have been reading a bit too many Dave Pelzer books” hmm?

And have I been given even an ounce of support in that way? Have I fuck. Why was none of this offered to me I wonder? Not saying I’m particularly keen on taking anyone up on the offer but, for real, was it just assumed that I was fine? Who was it that this happened to exactly?

It’s not about you, God damn it!

There’s been a few revelations, some old & some new, since I came back.

My mum has had a nervous breakdown & my father is still so harsh with words. My father I can deal with, my mother however.. well she told me a few things I found quite disturbing. It makes me even more angry at the police & the way they set her expectations so high. She was & I’ve no doubt still is, suicidal. Selfish no-doubt but it is what it is. I can only hope she considers the advice I gave her about taking the medication the doctor prescribed & not coming off them without warning (again).

I haven’t heard much about my abuser, he has pretty much kept himself away from everyone.. The only thing I’ve heard of his wife was about her screaming down the phone to her brother-in-law that Social Services had taken her daughter away for a chat. As for me, well she screamed about “always being there when she was baby-sitting“.

I’m sure she will think back to the times she was working night-shift & the times that bastard “nipped back to the house to check on the kids” – the “kids” being all three of us, evidently.

So no, we’re no further forward. There has been no closure – secretly I’m feeling a big bit “well I told you so” about this.. but in the long run I know that won’t help me.

Anyway, on a lighter note I guess I could wish y’all a Happy Valentines? I only wish I could be with my Bear

The family has gone completely radio silent. It’s unreal. Actually it’s pretty amusing, especially after I actually spoke to the detective & found out the scope first hand.

Re this post, my step-dad is talking out of his ass. But we knew that anyway. Yet, they just cannot accept that this is it. What, did they really think it would be as easy as arresting him, carting him off to prison & they’d never have to deal with him again?

Honestly I’m dying to know what people are thinking & saying. After all the bullshit they put on me, the guilt trips & the “think of the children!”, “you must save the other victims!” … it is more than just a relief to know I did everything I could, but it is because of Scottish law, that he walks free, not me.

I wonder what life is like for him right now. But like I said, the family has literally gone AWOL, so I don’t even know what life is like for them let alone him.

I’ve had a few people try to bring me on the “well it’s done now so lets forget about it” band-wagon. Funnily enough, it’s just not that easy. One does not forget about things like this. Why is that always the answer when anyone who really thinks about it would know that was merely a Standard Reply. Frankly, I’d rather have no reply than a standard reply. Give me something real. Please.

I mean, they forced me to bring this all back up from the depths,  like a bad piece of fish brings up your entire insides. Only I wish it had been like food-poisoning, since once it’s all been regurgitated you can move along to the next meal. But alas, dragging past sexual abuse out in public, telling & re-telling your story to handfuls of different people, all of which look at you & respond differently, is no easy feat. Nor, once they have decided that’s enough & it’s over, does it automatically go away…

I have found no closure when it comes to my mental anguish & pain. I found perhaps 30 seconds of euphoria in learning he had finally been taken in, but the rug was pulled very quickly from under me. They pretty much cut my legs off whilst I was running. But alas, nothing I can do – thank Christ. No-one can blame me.

All in all, I have not dealt with it. I’ve no dealt with it at all. I can talk about some of it, I can revel in him being called out on it & shitting himself because of it. But I haven’t dealt with any of what he did to me, & the consequences of that – The path of destruction he set me on. The past year of police has been but a blur. And you know, not one person has offered me any kind of mental support. Not even the police. Sure, the last DC I spoke to asked me how I was coping but he didn’t offer me any form of counselling. Besides, that alone was the closest anyone has come to focusing on me, since finding out.

Oh but now that I’ve made my statement & the police have done their part, it won’t come back to haunt me now, will it? After everyone using that excuse like they knew what the hell they were talking about, it better fucking not. But what am I saying, of course it will. Because I am not dealing with it. I don’t know how to & finally, I haven’t been given the chance.

Every now & again, like maybe twice a month, I might have a flash of rage over the abuse. But like my cigarette, I suck it up then stamp it out. Done & onto the next one.

I still can’t cry.

So, where do I go from here I wonder. I guess I just bury it all over again & carry on like life is wonderful..

9 months since my last self injury? No fucking way

And you know, I hardly even think about it at all. It’s still there but it’s not..there. It doesn’t haunt me like it used to, that’s all I know.

Now that the wild goose chase is finished we can safely say the police do not set expectations well, at all. And still, they carry on leading my mother & step-father up the garden path.

Now I banked on them getting intouch with the police after reading the email I forwarded them from the DC. You know, quoting the law & pretty much saying “case closed”?

..

Apparently the police are now going to visit them once again and they’re going to talk to his mother.

Now, I can tell you right now, even if she came out with the words “he raped me too!” It still wouldn’t get his mangy assed charged. The law is & will stay the same no matter what they say. As long as it isn’t witness to my abuse, the end of the line is nigh. Anyway, how long do we expect this to take anyway? I mean it only took them six months to visit him!!

That aside, my step-father tells me it’s “all going in the right direction”. What the hell is he talking about? It’s over.

I replied with something along the lines of “but the police have said there’s nothing more they can do, from a legal stand-point. But evidently they have led you to believe there is more?”

But like always, all I got back was a defensive riddle of a statement.

6 weeks after they said they would, the police finally took my abuser in for questioning.

I don’t have a lot to say for myself right now other than , what a weight off!

The outcome?…

He vehemently denied everything.

But of course he did!

He was interviewed for a good few hours, as was his daughter by social services, but there was nothing else they could do without a confession. We all knew it was my word against his. There’s no evidence. So this is it, I’m afraid.

Scottish law is as follows:

At Common Law, the evidence of a single witness, however credible, is not sufficient to prove a charge against an accused person, or to establish any critical and material fact, such as the identification of the accused. There must be corroboration of the evidence of that witness, either by the testimony of another witness or by evidence of facts and circumstances. In the absence of rebutting evidence, facts which are not crucial and material may be established by the evidence of one witness. (Lockwood v. Walker, 47 S.L.R. 155; Harrison v. Mackenzie, 60 S.L.R. 561; Strathern v. Lambie, 1934 S.L.T. 435; and Morton v. H.M.A., 1938 S.L.T. 27).

I am unsure as to whether my family listened to anything I said on this front, so I’m pretty sure there will be some really disappointed faces. I however am satisfied thus far knowing he has been called out & that even though he won’t be going to prison, he has not got away with it. He can deny it till he’s blue in the face but the two of us, one on one… Well, he knows the truth.

I don’t have very much detail about what happened at all but I like that they waited until about 7 o’clock at night – let him have dinner, settle in.. They showed up earlier but I guess he was out enjoying the school holidays with his kids. What matters to me is that he was detained in his house, in front of his wife & children, then taken to the station for a couple of hours. He must have shit himself.

Now that he has, as some might put it, walked free, I wonder now what the family fallout will be.

His mother was told this morning & since the police have finally done what they were suppose to, no-one has to worry about him getting wind of it & losing the element of surprise. – Fat lot of good that did I must say.

Anyway, I’ll have to come back to this later, my mind is running far too wild to even concentrate on the keys & what I’m trying to write.

So guess what? Nothing changes.

At least, we haven’t heard of any changes.

I’ve been trying to ring my mother all fucking day long but they won’t answer the goddamn phone. You see, for some reason they are scared of their own phone.

Actually there’s some decent reasons why but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating when you have to go through 2 minutes worth of prompts even before you punch in their long arsed number just to be charged to connect to their answer machine whilst they are checking who it was that phoned the first time. .(& no, they don’t have Caller ID).. & they want me to ring twice, hang up & call again?! Fuck that.

Now back to the fear.

a) They have debt

b) My “uncle” actually had the audacity to phone them twice a few months back when my mothers dad died.

Which brings me to:

My full fucking name being on a public website without my authorization!!!

Every now & again I will Google search my abusers name, with the hopes of perhaps coming across something more interesting than his damn business. Today however, I came across something quite different….

Now I’m sure we all kinda have a small idea of how shit my mothers dad was to me – hence why I refuse to call him my grandfather.

But, but, but, but!!

News Flash!! – Apparently I liked him enough to light a candle for him on his online obituary page. How tasteful I know.

Of course it was my mothers doing, don’t be silly.

One side of me is screaming how fucking dare she light a candle in my name for that fucking bastard but the other side is more like… my full fucking name?!!

Looking at the amount of hits that page has had, surely my “uncle” has been one of them &, without a doubt, he now knows my middle name. Something I did not want him knowing in case he were to try looking for me online or elsewhere.

Not only is it right there but it’s the first fucking hit that comes up with my name! It’s more than triggering to see my name next to his – my mothers father & my abuser share the same name – original I know but they were both bastards so evidently the glove was snug.

Needless to say I shot the website an email without hesitation. I sure as hell hope to see my name off of there asap!

I was lying in bed this morning, 5am to be precise & was stupid enough to allow myself to so much as wonder if he had been arrested yet, (5am here would make it 10am in Scotland), but I think we can be sure there has been no movement. I tell myself my mother would have told me already but then again, looking back on what I’ve just written….

Yeah, even that sounds a bit too much like Hope again.

Pretty grumpy to say the least. I’ve been waiting on my period for too long now. Don’t worry, it’s nothing I’m not used to, but goddamn it, come on already. I’m tired of phantom cramping & wincing whenever someone or something touches my chest because the twins are tender.

I’m pissed that my father has heard nothing in response to his email. What the fuck right? I have reiterated to him that they have 2 weeks to act. He’s ready to go on in, guns blazing but we have to wait, just a little bit longer to give them a chance. To give it all a chance. I mean they have their interview plan ready & everything – but then again, why should I believe them? All they’ve ever done is drag their ass & lie to me time & time again after-all.

We still don’t have Cable T.V. Don’t ask. It’s a long story, a 3 week+ long story!

However, last week I was flicking through the analog – we have giant bunny ears on the T.V. folks! – & landed on a David Foster concert. I had no idea who he was either, don’t worry. But I’m telling you, this four hour concert has made it into my top ten. It was fantastic to see the actual songwriter/producer being given recognition. Not just the singer.

I knew not only the melodies but every word to every song. I was totally born a decade (maybe two) after my time.

Anyway, the following video with Josh Groban & Brian McKnight blew me away, especially that high note! This is some duet.

Mason is doing really well.

He’s put on weight, his Kennel Cough is almost gone & he’s lookin’ pretty fine in the new collar & leash I bought him.

Brown leather with brass fittings baby. The quality? Let’s just say it feels like silk. I’m so impressed. He looks gorgeous. It kinda screams “I’m really going to need this” as it’s so sturdy – there’s no way in hell this baby is getting away from me, even if there was an army of squirrels to chase – he’s looking up every tree for squirrels. It’s highly amusing.

It’s amazing how even a pitbull puppy can make a grown man cross the street. I love it!