And then I threw my school shoe against the front door so hard that it left a mark.

And I screamed like I was losing it, calling Mum every name under the sun.

And then I went to my room and slammed the door so hard that the whole house shook.

And then I cried for, like, three hours.

I think that’s what they mean when they say “she lost her shit.”

I can’t see myself ever getting out of bed again.

I love Emma so much.

Saturday, July 14 #Whatever

I didn’t go to the thrift shop today, because I’m

a)  still too angry with Mum and

b)  too embarrassed to face Kate and

c) unable to deal with Emma.

I’m not even mad about Mum not coming home for my birthday even though she promised that she would, but I’m mad because I’m mad.

Because I should have expected it, because this is what always happens.

I canceled my party via Instagram, and literally five minutes later:

Polly: Are you okay?

Me: Yes, fine.

Polly: Party canceled. Why?

Me: Mum’s staying behind for a patient, so she won’t be home until next week.

Polly: That SUCKS.

Me: She sucks.

Polly: Why is she staying?

Me: Someone’s having a baby, and apparently women haven’t been able to give birth successfully without her since always, and so Mum needs to be there. Naturally.

Polly: But I’ve got a present for you. Can I at least come over tomorrow?

Me: I’m not in the mood for anyone. Sorry.

Polly: I respect that. But I’ll call you.

Me: Okay.

Polly: Don’t be sad. Love you.

Me:…

Then I watched Love Island.

Luckily the show is so dumb that my brain literally switched off to protect itself from further deterioration, and I fell asleep.

I only woke up when Kate got back from work, and I swear my whole body felt broken.