I don�t get what�s going on in my life. I�ve been spending a lot of nights on my knees with my hands clasped recently, asking God a million questions.
I wonder what He wants me to do about my mother situation. He said �Honor your father and Mother,� but I don�t know how I can. I don�t know how I can live with this anymore.

The other day, we went to a ball game, and on the drive home, we started arguing about something stupid, namely, where someone who had been in the play with me this summer had been standing recently during an auction in which I sold some items. (yes, I know it�s vague.)

He had mentioned it to me hours earlier, and it�s one of the few memorys of those couple minuets I have; where he was standing, and that I didn�t realize who he was until I got out of the room.

But of course, Mom was saying something about how he had been doing something completely different. And Sophie and I were just like �Umm, no. She was doing this.�

And she says (because this is her new thing) �I�m right.�

�No, I know what I�m saying. You didn�t even see him that day. Whereas, we stood mere feet from him and the broadcast of the auction.�

�No, you�re wrong. You�re never right. I know what was happening.�

�Oh for crying out loud, FINE. Just drop it.�

�I�m not going to leave it until you admit I�m right!� (which I�ve heard ten times in the past week. Each time while I had evidence to back me up.)

I popped.*. �No! Because I�m sick of not standing up for myself and letting you steamroll every discussion and decision.�

I don�t remember what she said after that. All I know is that it hurt.

Oh, by the way? Guess where we were going? You�re old local convenience store, to pick up some much-needed school supplies.

On the way, Dad Asks what I need, saying that we�re not stopping unless I know. I rattle off the list, picturing each item in my head. �Binder, Sketch book, composition notebook.� �one inch binder, with demi lovato on front cover� I think, �heavy weight sketch book, so I can paint and use watercolor pencils, pretty notebook for English.�

�good.� Mom says, burning rubber in the parking lot. �You can stay in the car.�

I tell them that I know what I need and can�t get the wrong stuff, but mom slams doors, and dad tells me to �be nicer to mom�.

�excuse me?� I ask. �You were here for that whole thing!�

�I know,� Dad says. �And I told her she was taking it to far, but for God�s sake, Anna! Just let her be right!�

�I�m sick of this dad! I�m sick of not standing up for myself! You have told me my entire life to stand up for myself and my beliefs, and now that I do, you tell me to shut up?�

�Anna,� dad warns.

�No! How do you expect me to grow up?�

�growing up is not arguing with your mother.�

�No. Growing up is finding reason and fighting against oppression.�

Mom comes back and slams things into the trunk of the car.

�You just take these things to far.� Dad says. Then mom gets in and we go home.

Quote of the day: �Does she love me, God? I don�t know if she loves me. She hasn�t told me for years. Not even on my birthdays, not on Christmas, not any other day of the year. God, do I love her?�

Happy Birthday today to: Kyle Wrestler.

Prayers For: Hope.

*Note: I did not explode, I did not yell or scream, I just quit.