28.10.04/4:30 pm

terrifying

Alot has happened since that hospital visit, like a pack of dominoes; one is pushed, then the others come tumbling down. I haven't been able to write it out here until now, i've just been trying to forget, in a state of shock and terror. But i need to get it down somewhere, so to clear the slate and attempt to move on.

The night afterwards was just as awful as the night before, if not worse. My Mum's boyfriend took a trip down the pub "for just half an hour". He came back 6 hours later, and woke us up with an almighty crash as he fell through the back door. He was covered in mud, and immediately came upstairs, into my Mum's room, pulled her bed covers away and started shouting. He dragged my poor cat from where she was sleeping, and threw her across the room. He later threatened to strangle her. Then he started on me, raging comments about being sick, being disgusting, the poignant words 'skanky bitch' sent flying in my direction.

It was so scary, he was so out of control and i didn't know how to help, what to do. Banging his fists against my door and walls, i curled up into a ball and wanted to disappear. He trashed the bedroom, pushed my Mum around and held her hands behind her back while leering in her face and spitting the most vile accusations. That is when she called the police, immediately he started begging and pleading. My brother came home to find him sprawled out on the kitchen floor, an absolute state. He walked past, and found us. I was sobbing and shaking, but he gave me a hug, my soaked cheeks against his soft jumper. It made me feel safer to have him there. I've been really proud of Matthew lately, he seems to have grown up alot.

The police arrived within ten minutes, meanwhile Jack (the boyfriend) had managed to somehow hidden his cannabis stash somewhere. They tried to calm him down but he wouldn't shut up about me. It was all about me, it was my fault, i was to blame as was my disorder, i was an attention seeker, he ranted on and on about suicide, vommit and anorexia, the statement 'attention seeker' clearly cutting through my conscience with a slash of hurt. Eventually Mum made the decision to let him stay downstairs on the sofa, the police left him with a warning that if they had to return he would be arrested without a moment of doubt.

& he wouldn't stop. No sooner had they pulled away in the car, he was searching the house, pulling out draws, emptying bags, trying to find the weed he had moved earlier. He acused us all of stealing it, "£50 worth of (his) property." For hours he was thumping around, while i tried to block it out, switch the sounds off, but it was useless. He came back and forth to my Mum, saying 'what have i done wrong??' along with other unrecognisable slures. I eventually drifted to sleep at 4am, only to dream about it all, with no escape.

The next morning. The aftermath. It was such a mess. The air still ripe with the smell of alcohol, his body asleep and oblivious, as if he had played no part. The bin was filled with food from the freezer, destroyed in a frenzy along with the homemade lasagne Mum had left in the oven, Matt's hay fever medication, the remaining flu tablets and a whole pack of vitamins. All congealed with tomato sauce, sausages, pancakes and pasta sheets. A lump of cheese was found outside on the front step, and keys are missing. We can't lock up properly.

Tuesday. I had arranged to meet a friend and it was a relief to get out, get away. We wandered around and pottered about the shops. I bought my Mum a cuddly grey bear to try and cheer her up a bit. I felt naseauted the whole time though, my stomach lurching as my mind ran through flashbacks.

When i got home he had gone, to stay with someone else. Apparently there had been alot of tears and apologies. He admitted he was an alcoholic and said he'd find a regular AA meeting to go to, although he has promised all that before. He also said that he'd been triggered by my overdose, as he was so angry that Mum had to take me to the hospital, and that he'd had a panic attack after we'd left.

I just don't know what to think, or how i should feel.

I do feel guilty. I cannot help it. He does have a problem, just as i do. But i just can't handle this, i can't handle him here, with all he has said towards me. So many roots he has pulled from the ground, like they are nothing but weeds, but they are my sanity.

Mum will have him back, i know she will. Her guilt is ripe as he has no money and nowhere to stay. She spoke to me and compared my illness to his, reminded me of all the times she has lied and covered me, and explained how she wanted to give him another chance. When i brought up the difficulties he's caused while sober, she put that down to his 'alcoholic withdrawel symptoms.' I'm so confused, where do you draw the line?

I can't judge, how could i? I have been devious and so shameful. I have caused so much pain and embarrassment, but i meant none of it.

I am terrified. I won't be able to eat with him here, i won't even be able to let him know i eat. I am not allowed, i shouldn't be having food or throwing everyone elses food up. I can't look at him knowing what he thinks of me. I can't stand it.

I thought this was going to be a relaxing half term, space to recharge my batteries, but so far it has just been horrible. A ever streaming rush of chaos and panic. I need to get out of here. I'm. So. Lost. I need someone to tell me it will be okay, i need somewhere to lean.

Tonight i have a party to go to, i wish i hadn't but i've already agreed. It will be so hard, in reach of vodka and lonlieness with so many people. Sadness mixing a cocktail of devestation. I'm worried about splitting my seams.