It could only be a matter of time. Mum and I have had another apocalyptic row. I said 'I am unhappy' and she said 'you are dreadful' in as many ways as she could manage at the time. It's all old stuff now; how lucky I am to have a roof over my head, how I live in filth and disgust her (she actually said "I like my house to look like someone lives there, but not like people crap on the floor, like yours" - I have no idea, honestly,) you know. The usual. How this is her house and I've no right to anything in it, how she worked hard all her life for this place and now she's shelling out hundreds of pounds for a flat because she wants me to be happy. Long, long, full of tears because we both cry, it's not like rowing with dad, where he shouts and I cry. In some ways this is worse. I have a migraine again now. She won't let me leave. Well, no. I could leave, but I would have faced the wrath of dad, and she would have run down the road after me crying - like last time - and it's all a bit much, really.