Kevin came to visit last week, and he hasn't changed one bit. He still calls me fat and slow, and thinks me the dumbest bitch on the planet. He believes carbs are my best and only friends. He made several comments along the lines of "You're slow and sooo freakin huge KJ! You don't need that muffin." Then he'd steal the muffin abd run away up to his room with it. The moment I step in there, I'm getting the crap beat outta me for going into his room without permission. Then he pops into my room once or twice a night. The moment I tell him to get out I'm beaten again for "speaking so rudely" to him. And, again, Mum & Dad pretended like nothing happened or acted like he was joking. I know he wasn't, he knows he wasn't, and they know he wasn't. He left Sunday to go live in the beach house. Soooo pretty much this is the week I'm regaining my self esteem again. I mean, if it happend once a night I could brush off. But the same constant message running through my brain every half an hour, as though reminding you the moment you forget. Eventually, you believe it. By Friday I'll be better. Or the moment I do something right for once. I broke my Mom's favorite mug yesturday. I can't replace it. Then I didn't exceed expectations and do more chores than I had to. I'm "a teenage girl now, and need to just get up and realize there are things that need to be done." So Kevin thinks I'm lard, Mum thinks I'm a screw up, and Dad just leaves me be. Wow... and these are suppose to be the best years of my life too...