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And then I try to keep busy the next day in hopes of forgetting yesterday's ugly argument.

First on my list is a simple trimming of my hair.

As I sit in the waiting area, I am treated to a racist, homophobic rant of some middle-aged redneck motherfucker who rips into every non-white person in the room-- everyone else in the room (11 people).

I happen to be called up by my stylist as this man goes on and on about MY people, the illegals, ruining this country and how we should all be sent back.

My stylist, who was black, tells me to ignore him. This only shifts the idiot's spite towards the drama going on in Ferguson... Dropping the N word every other second.

This man has me so upset, I fail to notice what the stylist is doing to me.

I told her "one inch trim, layers cleaned up."

Half-way through my cut, when I see her raise the longest batch of my hair, I note HOW MUCH she actually chops. My ONE inch turned to SIX.

But... What was done was done. I wanted to cry. My braid was past the 18-inch mark, the length that is the most desired by little girls when choosing a wig. I wanted the simple trim so that in a month or two, I'd once again be set to donate my hair (I go a little above the length so that they can still hit the 18 when they go ahead and trim the final product... At least that's what I hope happens). This six inch "trim" set me back probably until next year.

I decided to call it a day after that... but then Dad needed me to drive him in circles out by the boonies of Vegas. As I chauffeured him around the city, he ranted to me about mom. 

This kills such a big part of my soul... I can't explain it.

I catch myself growing increasingly resentful of my siblings for leaving me out here on my own trying to fix this problem between the two people we love the most... Leaving me the sole person to hear and see the mean shit they do and say to each other. It's overwhelming. The only thing I do that eases my distress is praying at night. ME. PRAYING. I never pray... But recently, the continuous repetition of the same two prayers manages to calm me down enough to where I can finally fall asleep.

Anyway... Yeah... Today was not a good day.

All progress made in Mexico in regards to my emotional/psychological health has definitely gone to hell. 

Not even a week later.