Take Me Back

I have worked SO VERY HARD with my counselor. I have told myself that I don't need makeup. That I don't care whether or not people like how I look. What matters is if I like it and if I'm happy. And I may not yet, but I will soon. I need to focus on me. And I said no makeup. I don't need it. And it makes my skin break out even more, which only adds more things I dislike. I will be fine without it.

Mommy disagreed. And did not let me leave the house today for church until I agreed to put on makeup. I kept telling her I didn't want to and she said I needed to. I said I would if apparently I looked so bad. She only told me to hurry. I sat in the car applying foundation and doing all I could not to cry. Wouldn't want our mascara to run, now would we?

She completely derailed all of the work I had done this semester in a few minutes. Mind you, I can't tell her I went to counseling 'cause then she'll get nosy and think something about me is wrong and blame herself as a parent, all victimized. And I just don't need that. So here I go. Away from counseling. Back with mommy.

It is such a terrible feeling, going to church in a foul mood. It affects everything you take in that day. And when I was talking to Samira, who CONTINUES to go through her issues and I have no way to help her, my mom peeks in. She asks if we can go. I say no, I have to rehearse. She says they're rehearsing right now. I said no, they will start in two minutes, I will be right there. She says no, right now. Sammy, they are rehearsing right now, I saw them. So I have to leave Samira when she is at her lowest. And I can almost guarantee that when I left, my mom started asking Samira what was wrong, not understanding that if she wanted to talk to her she would've done so.

I get in the car after a long rehearsal and mommy is asking questions, which I answer in a short tone. She doesn't like it and I ask her if we can just not talk. Which she refuses and just doesn't get because she did nothing wrong and what don't I want to talk about? I say I don't want to talk about anything. I'm in a bad mood and I don't want to talk and I'd rather not snap at her for something she didn't do (even though it's 93% because of her, 7% because people don't know how to pick a tempo properly). She gets pissy, but it's the same as always. Time passes. I start to cool down, still want to cry, but I'm calming down. I ask her what she wants to watch during lunch. She says nothing. So we eat in silence. I ask her when I can start to take excess clothes out of my closet and where to leave them. No response. She doesn't speak to me until after lunch when she says she's going to work, which she never does on a Sunday, and if I want to leave to let her know.

Lord, I do not know what You have in mind for this Summer. I don't know where You're taking me. But if I get a vote, I want You to take me back. Please take me back to McDaniel.