“Still Tuned In, Huh? Here’s a Little Something for Your Viewing Pleasure.”

 

 

So here’s the funny part...
I never even publicized that last blog. Didn’t share it. Didn’t tag it. Didn’t whisper a word about it.

And yet — 15 reads.

Fifteen.

And believe me, I know who some of y’all are. One of you in particular is a walking, talking pot-stirrer with a PhD in Drama and a full-time job in Everyone Else’s Business. You got so little going on in your own life that mine has apparently become your favorite reality show.

But here’s the thing —
I’ve been out of your orbit for almost two years. As of June 5, 2025, to be exact. Two years of peace, growth, and rebuilding what you had no part in breaking.

So tell me, with all due disrespect —
What the hell are you still doing here?

I don’t talk about you.
I don’t check your pages.
I don’t mention your name.
Hell, I forgot you existed.

Meanwhile, you?
You're clocked in like you're earning a salary — watching my posts, reading my words, and running back to whisper about what you think it all means.

You don’t support me.
You don’t speak to me.
But you sure as hell keep tabs like I’m your latest obsession.

For what? Validation? Entertainment? Jealousy?
Whatever your reason, honey, it’s sad.

I walked away. I moved on. And I’ve kept to myself.
But apparently, watching me glow up, show up, and speak up really grinds your gears.

And trust me, that’s not my problem.
It’s yours.

So let me say this loud enough for the folks way in the back:
If the show makes you sick — turn off the damn TV.
If the door’s been closed for two years — stop peeking through the peephole.
If I bother you that much — stop clicking my name.

I’m not hiding. I’m not performing.
I’m just living. And apparently, that’s still too much for you to handle.

So the next time you feel the itch to check up on me...
Ask yourself:
Why does someone else’s peace threaten you so much?
Because honey, if my healing bothers you — 

Let this be your official notice:
You’re not on my radar. But clearly, I’m still living in yours — rent-free, lights on, throwing a damn party.

So please, keep watching.
And if you’re gonna stalk me, at least hit the like button. It’s the least you can do for the free entertainment.

#Unbothered #LetItGoAlready #KeepWatching #HealingOutLoud #MindYourBusiness #PersonalGrowth #DramaFreeZone #BlockedAndBlessed #AccountabilityHurts #SomebodyNeededToHearThis

Where’s the Humanity in the Federal Bureau of Prisons? A Toilet Paper Crisis is Just the Start

"I understand I am in prison and in being here have given up my rights to certain things, however, one would think that you would still receive basic needs such as toilet paper."
— Tammy, FBOP Inmate

Let’s talk about what’s really happening inside our federal prisons — not the carefully scripted press releases or the PR-friendly narratives, but the truth straight from the mouths of those living it.

Tammy, currently incarcerated in a federal Bureau of Prisons (FBOP) facility, has been battling a months-long crisis that no one on the outside wants to believe is real — a shortage of toilet paper. Not iPads. Not flat screens. Toilet. Paper.

Since last Tuesday, she has received one roll. That’s it. Yesterday was supposed to be issue day — nothing. Zip. Zilch. Zero.

Instead, she and 271 other women were expected to share 192 rolls total. Basic math, right? That’s 80 women who don’t get anything — unless you count napkins and paper towels, which is what Tammy has resorted to using. To make things worse, a Unit Counselor announced they’ll be searching for stashed toilet paper in the unit, as if these women are hoarding Charmin like it’s currency on Wall Street.

Let’s not lose sight of the fact that they are supposed to be issued three rolls per week per policy. Not only are they not following that — they’re punishing the women for not having what they haven’t even been given.

And it’s not just toilet paper.

There is no access to adequate hygiene items. Pads, tampons, toothbrushes, toothpaste — all limited, all withheld. There aren’t even proper clothing provisions or consistent meals. In Tammy’s words:

"They can't provide for our basic needs. Period."

When Tammy wrote a memo to the Warden citing policy and the 8th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution — the part that says cruel and unusual punishment is illegal — she was told, “We are diligently working to resolve this issue.”

Oh really? How? Because “diligent” isn’t the word I’d use to describe a facility that has allowed a toilet paper drought to last for months. This isn’t a supply chain issue — it’s a deliberate choice to cut corners on the most basic level of human decency.

But wait, it gets worse.

Now the FBOP is reportedly stealing people's release dates by using an internal memo to override the very law (SCA) that reduced their time. They aren’t following the law. They aren’t feeding people adequately. They aren’t housing them humanely. And now they’re holding them longer while failing to provide so much as toilet paper?

And we’re supposed to just… accept that?

Tammy asks the question we all should be screaming:

"Where is the humane treatment we as human beings should get regardless of the fact that we are in prison or not?"

This is the call to action.
Not just for activists, not just for the formerly incarcerated, not just for families like mine who have loved ones inside. This is a call to every American who still believes in the Constitution and the word humane.

This isn't about “criminals wanting luxury.” This is about basic sanitation and dignity. This is about holding our system to the standard it preaches. If the government isn’t even meeting the bare minimum of toilet paper and toothpaste, then it's not just the inmates who should be outraged — it's all of us.

#PowerOfOurVoicesLLC #EppersonEmpowerment #FBOPAccountability #InmateRightsAreHumanRights #8thAmendmentViolation #ToiletPaperIsAHumanRight #PrisonReformNow #WomenInPrisonDeserveBetter #FederalInjustice #SpeakTruthToPower #TammyDeservesDignity #BasicNeedsAreNotPrivileges #MassIncarcerationCrisis #PrisonTransparencyNow #CruelAndUnusualPunishment #JusticeBehindBars #WeWillNotBeSilent

"You Do You, But Don’t You Dare Rewrite Someone Else’s Trauma"

 

Family and trauma. Two words that should never sit next to each other, but somehow, they often do.

You ever notice how a single event can shatter an entire household in different ways? You put ten people in the same room, and you’ll come out with ten different versions of the same explosion. Some remember the fire, others only the smoke. And some? Some will swear nothing ever burned at all.

That’s the thing about trauma—it’s personal. It’s not up for debate, it's not a roundtable topic, and it's definitely not yours to discredit just because your memory paints it in softer colors. Maybe you blocked things out. Maybe you weren’t the target. Maybe you just weren’t paying attention. That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” – Psalm 34:18
“Do not judge, or you too will be judged.” – Matthew 7:1

When someone finally has the strength—the courage—to speak up about what they lived through, it’s like watching them strip their soul bare in front of the world. And what do some family members do? They throw stones at it. Whisper behind backs. Toss around the word “liar” like they own the rights to the truth.

Well, newsflash: truth isn’t one-size-fits-all. Trauma doesn’t play by your rules. And your guilt, your denial, your absence? That’s not a valid reason to try and silence someone else’s voice.

If you weren’t there in the darkest hours—if you weren’t the one being screamed at, beaten down, humiliated, or abandoned—then you don’t get to say how someone else should feel about it. You don’t get to be the moral police of someone else's healing journey.

“Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy.” – Proverbs 14:10

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” – Galatians 6:2

I’ve watched a man I love unravel the pain of a childhood no one protected him from. I’ve heard the raw screams through a prison phone line, the breakdowns mid-sentence, the “I can’t take this anymore” aftershocks that trauma still sends, years later, while he's locked behind concrete and steel, trying to piece together who he is under all that damage.

He remembers. All of it. Every moment. Every silence. Every betrayal. He lives with it. And the worst part? The people who should’ve stood by him are the ones who now stand furthest away.

So if you’re one of those people, let me say this with love, but without any apology: YOU DO YOU.

Be angry. Be defensive. Keep rewriting history if that makes you sleep better at night. But don’t you dare look someone in the eye—or worse, tell others behind their back—that their version of the story isn’t valid. That it’s not real. That it’s “dramatic” or “exaggerated.” Because unless you wore their skin, felt their fear, cried their tears… you simply. do. not. know.

“They dress the wound of my people as though it were not serious. ‘Peace, peace,’ they say, when there is no peace.” – Jeremiah 6:14
“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” – Philippians 2:4

And don’t pretend like you're feeling “guilty” for not being there back then if all you’re gonna do now is ghost them again. Because all that does is reopen the same wounds they were barely starting to scab over.

Me? Hate me if you want. Talk all the mess you want because I speak up, because I share his truth, because I won’t back down. I’ve got thick skin, bigger shoulders, and a fire in my chest that won’t go out. I’m the one here—every single damn day—picking up the shattered pieces while the rest of you stand at a distance and pass judgment.

I choose to be the one holding him up. Through the tears. Through the trauma. Through the 15-minute calls that always end too soon but never end the pain.

You don’t get to judge that. Not him. Not me. Not any survivor who has the guts to open up.

So yeah. You do you.

But don’t ever forget:
He lived it.
He still is.
And you? You left.
So think twice before you speak.

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.” – Proverbs 31:8

#EppersonEmpowerment #PowerOfOurVoicesLLC #SpeakYourTruth #FamilyTrauma #TraumaSurvivors #HealingIsNotLinear #BiblicalTruth #MentalHealthAwareness #YouDoYouButStayInYourLane #FromGuardToWife #RealTalkRealPain #PrisonAdvocacy #WeWillNotBeSilenced #StandByYourPerson #BiblicalJustice #SurvivorsDeserveSupport