cheyenneisthedisaster

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

Broken pieces and broken souls.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

“Life goes on whether you choose to move on and take a chance in the unknown or stay behind, locked in the past, thinking of what could’ve been. I don’t want to live in the past anymore. I’m so lonely here, there’s nothing for me here anymore.”

— Stephanie Smith

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

Sometimes you have moments where you realize that you have become your own problem. I feel like I've been so medicated i couldn't even keep track of time. Slowly as all the bullshit leaves my system, I'm waking up. I felt like I was constantly stuck in a haze.

Maybe now I can really heal and move forward.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

I feel like I have reciprocated the anger and resentment that has been displayed towards me. My language and temper has upset my parents when what they have done is ruin my life in every way. Every conceivable way. I wish my father never came back in my life. All I have been reminded of, is how much I don’t matter.

I wish I was treated like a person.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

One of the things that hurts the most is I don’t deserve for everything I ever worked for to be taken away from other people’s mistakes and issues. When you boil it down, I am the person who’s done the least bit of harm but has been put through the most horrible things. I didn’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to still be wrongfully harassed because my dads new wife cares more about money being spent on her then my life. I have personally held myself beyond accountable for what I’ve done. Over and over. To the point of even hurting myself, which I have gotten passed.

I did not want all of the invasive oversight into my life. Everyone had so much negative to say, when my now ex husband had a child by another woman, and Alex and I were separated by everyone. It escalated between our two families to an extreme extent, that wasn’t necessary.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing that I have done to be thrown away and abused like I was. Now I can’t even get access to any of my things. Any of my things at all. Every day I am re-traumatized by the fact that I cannot move forward in any way. I have zero support. I am constantly harassed wrongfully and I’m tired of being a broken record. I need to move forward.

I’ve been healing and struggling to even want to stay alive, let alone fight over traumas that aren’t mine. I’m sorry my dad spent so much money and it was wasted, I’m sorry I was too damaged to hold a job while being told by everyone that I didn’t believe I had a job, being told I wasn’t qualified for a job and I’m a whore that should go kill my self by my dads new wife. I’m sorry that I was blamed for everyone else’s gold digging. I’m sorry that it seemed like I didn’t want a family when I was devastated I didn’t get to keep my own child when I was humiliated by my husband knocking another woman up. I’m sorry I used curse words instead of violence. I’m sorry I have no interest in going after or bothering drug dealers when I don’t do drugs and don’t want that kind of energy in my life.

I’m sorry I had one bad boyfriend in a complex situation I wasn’t ready for. I’m sorry that I lost my temper because once I cry I can’t stop. I’m sorry that my pain comes out in anger because I’ve been pushed or that point. I’m sorry I’m not good enough or as intelligent enough for anyone. I’m sorry my mom fucked is up. I’m sorry that I even exist. But the little person who does exist, doesn’t deserve this. Everyday. So if I could please know why I did that was so wrong besides using hard drugs four times, taking like 30 adderall in total, having a bad boyfriend who hasn’t been held accountable in any way, having a bad husband who I love more then anything in this world but I wasn’t enough. I’m sorry that I keep getting harassed and there isn’t a single person besides 3 people on the internet who are kind to me or remember that I’m a person.

I’m sorry I’m not big and bad, I’m not a gang banger and I’m terrified of that stuff. I’m sorry that I don’t like getting involved with law enforcement at all. I’m sorry that Sandra’s kids can handle their drugs but I can’t but I didn’t know because I didn’t do drugs. I’m sorry I wasn’t worth celebrating getting a once in a lifetime job and had my dad’s new wife constantly screaming in my face. I’m sorry she makes me shake.

I’m sorry I didn’t heal fast enough, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t even worth keeping my dignity. I’m sorry I had to do the worst to survive and that isn’t even enough, people keep trying to put me in jail and I’m just trying to live through the day. I’m sorry I’m but as pretty as I used to be. Or intelligent as I used to be. I’m sorry I wasn’t worth a single person in our families to say “enough is a enough”. I’m sorry I depended on anyone else but myself, and that’s my biggest mistake.

So I have to motivate myself like hell to not be a toothless beat up ex prostitute working in a 24 hour diner with a drinking problem. I don’t have any self esteem but I didn’t think I’d be so ostracized because I just don’t want people to physically touch me. I’m sorry the value of my life and my potential doesn’t exceed my life insurance policy. I’ve done a lot of healing and if I had died before it would’ve been mercy for how much I’ve suffered. I’ve replayed it over and over and I don’t deserve a bunch of shit dragged into my life, and being beaten into submission, and emotionally broken down saying i ruined my own life, so I took it out of myself. I kept going back to Alex because I gave it all up for a junkie right? So it had to work.

Alex was once’s called a homeless junkie by my family. That he has nothing and just uses me. And I was accused of being a junkie and I have been homeless. So the people who threw the biggest stones because nothing that I did was good enough ended up leaving with nothing and no one. I’m proud of my little safe space, and what I’ve accomplished from nothing.

I’m sorry that on the 4 escalations of drug use that I didn’t understand what was happening. I’m sorry that I was traumatized by having everything taken away like I’m a child. I’m sorry that I begged to go home and begged to go home, but no one was nice to me that when Alex would be nice I’d go see him.

I didn’t ask anyone to go through my things or clean my car. I didn’t ask anyone to clean for me, and I didn’t take the help for granted. I was really thankful. But the help came with so much judgement and weight, it’s all about money. I hate money.

I wish I had someone who was willing to stand up for me Ina good way. I’m sorry that what bas gotten me through this awful life is a tea that is get on suboxone if I had transportation or money. I’m sorry I got into a tea because I really wanted to help people. I’m sorry that all my abusers, to the point that I have died, have tried to put me in jail for being abusive, when im 4 11, and I weighed 100lbs. I’m sorry that when I was wrongfully exposed to fetynal that I lived. I’m sorry that after a home invasion and date rape drug I didn’t know how to heal.

I’m sorry I was ridiculed by everyone. I’m by no means a perfect person, I have never claimed to be a perfect person, but I worked hard to be a small business owner and an area manager, and I’ve been humiliated and accused of crimes that come with life sentences. I’m sorry that Alex’s recovery and well being was worth more than the child I lost. I’m sorry that all I wanted to do was be a mom, and I’m sorry that because I lost so many children I needed hormones to clear my acne and heal my skin. I’m sorry I wasn’t pretty enough to be in the wedding photos.

I’m sorry that the one time I needed help, I was a burden. I didn’t mean to be a burden but I was always taught to treat people far better than how I was treated. I didn’t feel as if I deserved it, I’m sorry that at my age I had so many of my own issues I was trying to work on, I didn’t remember to ask how anyone else was doing or about their day. For ten years almost, I wasn’t asked. At the end of my marriage I was barely noticed. My husband even left me sleeping outside. I’m sorry that the man who raped me in a hotel room was right, I was left on the side of the road where everyone else had left me because I’m just a burden.

I’m sorry I don’t have great mental health because the anger keeps me safe. I’m sorry that I drink a tea to get through the pain. I’m sorry that no one cared to treat me like a person instead of an object. I’m sorry I wasn’t worth the attempt to mend a relationship with my dad. I’m sorry that Sandra saw me as a threat when I knew I wouldn’t ever be more important because I never have been important to anyone.

If I can’t get my things I’d rather not be here anymore. Honestly, at this age, what I’ve gone through and had to endure I don’t know if I have another restart in me. I don’t. I’ve been so used, broken down, beaten and taken advantage of that I don’t think I will ever heal. I’d rather be dead then disabled. Truly. I don’t know what I deserved to be made disabled, but I’m trying like hell to get through it. When I was in treatment I felt myself dying of a broken heart. It’s insane.

I do feel it. I do feel like my actual heart is giving up. I don’t know how a few rumors and miss spoken words lead to every single person in my life not even bothering to talk to me because of language. I’m sorry that everyone else wants me to be the reason for their pain. That I used them, or pulled one over on, when that wasn’t the case. And I’m sorry my mom traumatized everyone to leave me broken and alone… for no real reason. I was told Alexs sobriety was important, but my recovery from my trauma was important too.

Imagine, being told not to make a college graduate feel bad over getting at general manager job at a fast food restaurant so quickly at almost 30. I’m sorry that the broken person in the house had to be the bad guy because apparently her kids had to be better than us. I’m just a fast food general manager. That’s been my life opportunity. The daughter of a murdered creakhead prostitute made it to be a restaurant general manager by 30. What I have achieved is amazing for someone who wasn’t even allowed to go to school because my mom was too high.

I’m sorry I’m just white trash. I’m sorry the other kids weren’t allowed to talk to me growing up. I’m sorry I have survived. I’m sorry I let my mom go that day, because I haven’t had anyone since then. I’m sorry Micheal and I were just pawns for my dads money. I’m sorry for once I thought maybe I’d be excepted. I’m sorry Sandra’s sister was jealous at how her husband looked at me. I’m sorry that my little life being a cafe owner/ restaurant manager married to a banker was exciting enough for my ex husband. I got to feel what peace and happiness was. I’m sorry I cry because I’m horrified Miguel’s going to commit suicide or abusing drugs. I’m sorry I care about him more than myself.

I’m sorry, that after building all of that from nothing, I didn’t deserve to have the lady who got so mad I went into formulated to have my dad sign a lease and she was so offended not realizing I’m his actual daughter. I’m sorry that Sandra is from a different country and gets threatened by someone’s daughter living through a home invasion because I was basically living alone. I’m sorry the divorcee and rape victim wasn’t enough to give me space without judgement.

I’m sorry that when I found out my dads other woman had kids who had known my dad for along time. I’m sorry that it hurt knowing I used to cry asking Miguel why doesn’t my dad want to be part of my life. I’m sorry I’m afraid Micheal will be pushed to the edge and do something stupid. I’m sorry that my dad thinks it’s okay to put his children through hell while looking at a spoiled brat calling for his “MAMA”.

I’m sorry my dad just wants to live his life in peace. I’m sorry that his children don’t fit into that because that means someone else won’t control. Im sorry that no one got to know the real me. I’m sorry that we asked for a parent. I’m sorry that it’s two of us who feel this way. I’m sorry that I blew up because it was far too much. I’m sorry no one realized that when you accuse someone of using hard drugs etc etc, we attract the worst kinds of people. I’m sorry that when my own family threw me away. Even though they weren’t in my life, everyone else followed suit.

All I ever wanted in my life was a place to call home. I had that. I’m sorry I just wanted a little family of my own. I’m sorry that I’ve been put through hell, and it comes down to my tone and language. I’m sorry I’ve been through so much hell, that I don’t have someone who loves me enough to just give me a safe place to heal. I’m sorry I was surrounded by the worst kinds of people. Last time I was going to be left homeless Alex was going to come with me because I can’t go alone. I’m sorry that to everyone in my life, the jealousy was enough to break an already broken person and my family let it happen.

Im just sorry for being here. And im sorry that i meant so little to everyone that pretending i dont exist, and reminding me how ungrateful and awful, and abusive, and such a drug addict i am, was so easy to do in one day. I’m sorry im worthless. I wonder if anyone remembers me as a person, or remembers in America, when a well to do family takes everything away from a 29 year old in one day, and leaves her outside, alone, everyone else follows suit. I’m sorry i didnt understand what was going on and didnt trust anyone. I’m sorry that i dont have the magical super powers to explain my scars and not correct clothing during a job interview. I’m sorry it’s taken this long for me to get to the point that I even look presentable at all, because I’ve had to do what I can to make what little money I do.

I’m sorry I don’t have the magical skills to convince an employer to hire a mentally damaged shit show with no support. Who can’t drive to do her job and just wants to be a crew person because word around town is she’s so addicted to drugs. I’m sorry I…. I wasn’t worth supporting when holding myself accountable. I’m sorry I was told everyone dislikes me when I was In treatment. I’m sorry I was verbally abused when I left treatment and had to go back. I’m sorry that I wasn’t given a chance. I’m sorry I made a tons of people hate me, I’m sorry my entire treatment I learned how it was all my fault, I’m sorry on my birthday I cried alone wishing I was dead with an envelope of bills I couldn’t pay; watching my life be ruined infront of my life.

I’m sorry that it hurts even more that everyone thinks I deserve this everyday. I’m sorry I have to waste my time on calling attorneys to make sure I don’t get beaten to death. I’m sorry that it’s taken all this pain in this chat, for me to ask—- could I just have my package? And I cry myself to sleep hoping my unit wasn’t robbed, or sold.

I’m sorry I was so horrible that it was worth ruining a life that was so insignificant to everyone that an almost 70 year old father thought it was okay for his new wife to treat his 30 year old like this while her kids will get to live off the money he leaves behind with her, and his kids won’t ever have the opportunity to have peace.

I’m sorry I wasn’t worth getting to know. I’m sorry I have all these crazy issues with no documented proof. I’m sorry that I’m lazy, and I want to use my dad for money. I’m sorry I had one bad year and a half. I’m sorry. I’m just fucking sorry.

I’m a person…. Will someone treat me like a person? I’m sorry that everyone else is given the opportunity to learn from their mistakes and grow. I’m sorry that I’m a woman and I don’t get hired for hard labor jobs. I’m sorry I can be raped. I’m sorry I’m only 4 11. I’m sorry everyone assumed and talks about me, but no one takes the times to talk to me. I’m sorry that someone isn’t allowed to go through their own personal problems that they don’t want to share all the time, while healing from trauma and trying to get back on their feet. I’m sorry that someone can’t coexist into a house in the guest bedroom without being dragged into everyone else’s issues.

I’m sorry my dad thinks that what hes done for me, I didn’t care about. I did, that’s why I fought so hard not to lose it all. I did care, but it’s possible to be grateful for help but also still struggling with my own personal problems simultaneously. I’m sorry that everything I do and say is broken down into such an insane extent and that nothing I can do is right, and sometimes I purposely act in a way that will stir the pot because I need to know who’s spreading what. I’m sorry that having me “cancelled” and public-ally humiliating me daily is what everyone has ganged up to do. I’m sorry my ex husband has been influenced to continue to isolate me when I don’t deserve it. I’m not perfect, and I’m human so I’m going to make mistakes. But when my phone is hacked by Miguel sabotaging everything I do to move forward, and I’m humiliated and laughed at, instead of someone remembering I’m a person, I’ve done less wrong out of everyone.

So since when does someone give up all privacy and freedom to their dad and ex husband and the people who can see all my finances, bank accounts, call logs, locations and I didn’t lie with the who I was with, turn around and let their daughter/wife be so put down and humiliated like I have been. Does that reflect me or the men in my life? This is still a man’s world. I’m sorry my dad raised a worthless piece of shit whore drug addict deranged criminal and Miguel lost everything because he knocked up and employee and his wife was so worthless to him that the emaciated ran through employee who couldn’t even stay sober on the clock, was more important then who he married, and he won’t stop until they all feel better about themselves because I’m such a junkie crackhead tweaker piece of shit who’s life he’s going to ruin, because I wasn’t worth anything, and I don’t deserve peace. I’m sorry that I was never loved. I’m just sorry that I provided and payed paychecks and ran businesses that apparently I wasn’t there for. I’m sorry everyone has all the assumptions but I’m not worth leaving me some underwear.

I didn’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it.

I was told today that I’ve changed a lot, and that people miss the old me, well the old me wasn’t trying to barely scrape by and in danger all of the time. The old me wasn’t used till everything was forcefully taken away. The old me didn’t need to answer to someone about every breath I take. The old me was allowed to be human.

The old me wasn’t humiliated by all my dirty laundry and rumors being aired out on the internet.

Has anyone ever asked themselves or prayed that is live through the night. I have. Sometimes I feel I won’t. I know I’m being protected now but I feel like I won’t. My dad just wants me to “be happy” how can someone be happy when my independence is taken away, I’m retaliated against, abused, stabbed, beaten and life is better without looking at me, but leaving me alone in the guest bedroom to heal wasn’t on the agenda. The dog and pony show was.

My brother Thomas said he wished he had the opportunity I did. I had to opportunity for my parents to tell me not to worry about things or stick up for myself just to lose it all while they are picking apart the fact I drank a beer on Father’s Day off site and got kicked out the domestic violence shelter because my humanity kicked in.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

I keep getting approached that I’m not the same anymore. I’m not. It’s hard to heal when people have hurt you— over & over & over. People need to understand, that when they bring things into other people’s lives that destroy them from the foundation up, we don’t come out the same.

When you realize that people took all they could from someone until there was nothing left to take.

It’s very interesting that every time I had money, or a job, everyone was my friend. I was constantly called when someone needed something. When I needed someone the most…. Or just even kind words… no one was around. Everyone turned their backs on the person they relied on to pay their bills, clean up their messes and be the stability in their lives.

It makes me realize that none of those people were really my friends. They were people who were around because they could use me. Every single person in my life wronged me to an extreme extent.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

I have to say, I am just broken on how many people where around when I was doing what I was supposed to do with my life. I will never forget when my friend Drew looked at me and said “Cheyenne is this what you want out of your life, your miserable”.

Look at the pieces of the fragments that those statements left behind. A trail of broken people.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

As someone who was there for so many people throughout the worst moments of their lives, I wonder what happened to people having empathy. It is far too often that I realized that I surrounded myself with people who spend time breaking people down instead of being kind. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been threatened myself. As a small business owner I cannot believe someone would even look at me and say “you talk too much” or do to me what they have. You do not bring drugs into someone’s life and then put them down for the few times they may have used.

The people who have harassed me and put me down are people who I hired and helped get their businesses up. When I went into this industry kava was supposed to be a very positive alcohol supplement. We were supposed to celebrate people’s sobriety and not humiliate them for their drugs use, which is rampant in this industry that I am ostracized from.

It’s daily that I am either called a crackhead, a tweaker or a junkie. As someone who only tried hard drugs a handful of times and mostly took adderall, it’s insane that everyday I am put down as something that I’m not. When someone is selling hard drugs for years you let someone know so they don’t enter a relationship with that person. That person today is starting drama and trying to take my freedom away when I have lied to see who tells the truth. It’s amazing that people are so willing to accuse people of committing crimes that come with life sentences.

It’s hard to have the people I once cared about put me down the way that they have. So when someone lives through a home invasion. Losses a child. Survives being dropped by fetynal that wasn’t supposed to be in something. Is beaten and raped/stabbed and thrown into gang violence, you don’t hurt them with your words. Not a single one of them asked if I was okay— instead they choose to throw stones at people who don’t deserve it or problems they created themselves.

You don’t get on the internet and keep telling someone they are going to die. You don’t back someone’s abuser when the woman was openly beaten over and over. It is far too often that I am told I need to be in an institution/mental hospital/jail, when I don’t deserve it.

The right thing would’ve been to hold a fundraiser or help the person who helped everyone else for all these years. No one did. How many marriages/lives and wives have to end up in the psychiatric ward and end up ostracized and abused by a bunch of people using drugs for the owners to realize they need to take action. The right kind of action. You don’t leave a fellow owner to go through hell, and advise their husband so poorly.

It’s far too often people fuck up and pretend to be someone’s friend when really they are acting in ways that are socially unacceptable and unfortunately unforgivable. People sold a pipe dream and made the industry into something that can be considered a gateway drug for many.

I became the worst version of myself out of fear.

Things that I am blamed for that I didn’t do when it comes to the guy I dated:

1. His drug addiction and relapses are not my fault.

2. His sobriety is not my job.

3. Him loosing his job at Boston market/quitting the aquarium.

4. Him running his mouth to the wrong people and getting my home broken into.

5. The self defense I had to use to keep myself safe. He was beaten by his drug dealer for a reason, you don’t bring that level of addiction into someone’s life.

6. The moment he passed that line it was attempted murder. I did not use. So he doesn’t get to take both of our lives or take my life so he can create a narrative and move on. He was in case management after that.

7. You don’t allow that person to bring gang violence into my life/scare me/put me into a ptsd induced psychosis and ruin people’s lives.

8. You don’t have very serious people wrapped into drama that can get them arrested because someone who is very abusive cannot stop.

I died almost two years ago and I’ve never seen someone harassed and belittled by the people who exposed her to drugs before in my life.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

Got into onlyfans.

My onlyfans is

onlyfans.com/themetalbarbie

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

I don’t know how it’s possible to like myself anymore. I don’t. I have been broken down. Torn down and ostracized to the point I have no one left. My ex-husband spends most of his time tearing me down wrongfully. I don’t have a support system. Every time I get someone to help me, my ex-husband makes sure/manipulates everyone to not respond. I’m not even worth a response. It’s so abusive not to respond to someone. It’s so abusive to isolate someone to the point that they don’t know if they have the will to fight the disease they have anymore.

I have one person who means the world to me. He means more to me than anyone else in this world. He’s the only thing that gives me a reason to stay. I know what his life is like behind closed doors and I greatly dislike how everyone wants to yell at him/me the way they do. I’m still the same person I used to be but the abuse is extensive. It is extensive.

Every time I try to move forward, someone has to try and tear me down. The things they say about me is awful. My ex husband doesn’t realize that when you let your wife/push her to fall that far wrongfully, it’s a reflection of what the man is willing to allow to happen to their lives. I’m a product of my ex husband’s take down. I don’t know who he pissed off but I don’t want to be apart of it anymore.

My dad even said to me that he wants to do to me what he did to my mother. You don’t do this to your own daughter so I have contacted the attorney so I can move forward with damages. It hurts because I know the abuse case has reopened/the investigation is continuing.

It’s horrible to go through hell and have the person who brought all this hell into your life, put you down/break me down to the point I don’t have the energy of mental capacity to continue. My ex-boyfriend is single handedly the most abusive person I’ve ever met. He knows I only used a few times, and keeps telling me/everyone else that I’m not sober/that I’m a crazy drug addict and I haven’t. I can count the 26 times I have ever used. He seems to forget that I’m a product of his actions. He brought/they both brought this into my life. So, when he was the one procuring the drugs— you don’t accuse your victim of being a crazy drug addict. You don’t keep accusing someone of committing crimes to the point that no one is in their life.

Part of domestic violence is isolating the person. It’s also continuing the isolation. It’s abusive. It’s abusive to make conclusions/isolate people/have people verbally abuse someone/ to completely ruin someone’s life. It is also abusive to try and take someone’s life because someone else wants to move on. So I am worth so little to everyone here that they would rather me dead, so they don’t have to deal with their own guilt and they can selfishly move on. That’s extreme abuse and attempted murder.

How do you have your own family saying it would be a better investment to have your daughter dead, and collect her life insurance. If it wasn’t for one of my friends I wouldn’t be here today. It is not okay for someone to have one bad year, and a bunch of men get together and take life insurance policy’s out and try to push someone to “relapse” to be able to collect money. I don’t use. I keep trying to push through this and no one cares if I sleep outside. No one cares if I can’t eat. No one cares if I’m struggling to survive. No one cares if I’ve been beaten/raped/sold. I want to be treated with basic human decency.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

I have to say. Respect is earned and not given. Processing takes time, and with reflection, one can see the light at the end.

The hardest thing I’ve ever done, is watch children break down the foundation that was built amongst the lives of two devastated, broken and bereaved human beings. Everyone is human. In some instances there are many who will never be capable of carrying empathy for those who weren’t as fortunate.

I remember the light my ex husband was losing in his eyes when we met. He joked about wanting to kill himself, but watching this man try to separate from a life many will never even begin to comprehend, let me know that he was worth it. At his age then, he had lived a very long life. Even with how alone he was, he was MY light. I was so tired by the time we crossed paths, I cannot tell you how heavy the burdens I carried where. I never told him. His nightmare wasn’t over yet, I didn’t want to burden him with the truth of the horrifying demons that posed a threat in the shadows of MY life.

There was still hope because the pain he felt didn’t contain the horrible imagery my actual life had burned into my soul. I know what human flesh smells like when it burns, I always carried my paints to cover the tragedy.

I try to conjure the words, intelligently, to express how I feel. There aren’t words. Truly there aren’t. I can’t remember a time prior to now, where I felt this much emptiness. It’s emptiness.

I hit the ground begging god to take the pain away. I find it hard to carry the weight anymore. I have begged for peace in my own head. The betrayal I feel is immeasurable. I cannot properly convey how I feel. I’m struggling to find the words, or even think.

Each time they throw stones, each time they interject into a conversation that isn’t there’s to be apart of, I break. They have no place in my conversation. They aren’t the ones living my story.

My soul has been tired for eternity it feels. I remember when the light hasn’t left my eyes yet. I’m “tired and uninspired”. I feel my bones break under the weight of being used/bullied wrongfully to insanity. I miss the way things used to be; I would turn back time if I could. I would do anything to save a life.

For years I’ve been told it’s all my fault when truly I barely speak outloud. When I try to express myself, I am screamed at. Bullied and harassed by people who could never carry the pain that has literally be cut into my soul.

Covered in spider veins and scars, I gave my all. Even my life.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

This episode is far less entertaining and dreadful then the previous. I was told I speak in circles, I don’t speak in circles, I just can’t casually speak on the truth.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

I have white hairs over this nonsense. Seriously.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

I know. I know no one convinced my ex husband to do drugs. I know, I know someone wouldn’t be that stupid. Cause I be reading these bi-laws of how fucked up someone may have me. Try my ass.

Don’t even. I see y’all in the metal scene, don’t act like I don’t know. HE BEST be sober.

[cheyenneisthedisaster]

Imagine forgetting about the people to the right.

Look at me at work paying the bills alone while he downgrades and abuses me.