In Michael Jackson's final moment, he thought about? Passive aggressive post-it notes.

If there's one thing that frustrates me more than my parents not trusting who I say I am, it's when my own mother is passive-aggressive towards me over matters that I am not in the wrong for.

In my travel to Moony last month, my suitcase - mum's suitcase - got broken. Or rather, the handles snapped except for the main one. It was not my fault, and I was pissed but it was done, and I could still move it easy enough.

I didn't see it as a problem, and I was just happy to be there. I didn't think about it again until I got back here any my mum told me to either get a new one from the airline or buy it myself. It's not my fault, and nobody travels anywhere in this house except me. And I got back from Heathrow just fine, even though I was welcomed by nobody upon returning to my town. They couldn't be bothered to journey 20 minutes to meet me after a long and emotionally draining day, and I'm never going to ask because I don't want to owe them anything. 

I tried to complain, even though it's very against my nature, but since it was more than seven days since it happened, I couldn't. 

Today, mum asked if I complained. I explained the situation calmly, and was told I should have said it happened when I got home. It honestly never occurred to me to lie about what happened.

I was told 'thanks a fucking lot' and general other things that clearly state no thanks are in order, and I rarely raise my voice but this was not my fault, and I won't let my mum blame me for it.

But I'm not even upset. I'm just frustrated. I can't stand up for what I believe in, I can never tell them I don't answer to that name any more, or that I'm not female (today). 

I probably seem really confident at school, but the secret is that I'm not. I can tell a class who I am because I trust them not to hurt abuse with a teacher in the room, or to my face. But I don't trust my parents. I hide in my room, don't leave unless I have to get to the kitchen or something, and some evenings I don't voice a single word because all my friends are online. Even though one or two aren't talking to me much, and I miss them. 

And I wish I were strong enough to stand up for myself but I know the resulting argument will achieve absolutely nothing but tears and a stressful night of hatred on my part while my parents cry downstairs and my mum strongly hints that her headache of several days is caused by me. 

I can't be let down after throwing my heart at them any more.

I'm fading in this place, and I need to get out before I disappear.