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Shattered in a Thousand Pieces – When the World Just Feels Too Heavy

 


 I feel like I’ve been zapped into a million tiny pieces, floating midair, like that scene in Willy Wonka where the kid is scattered before he ends up inside the TV. That’s me. Mentally shattered. Emotionally pulverized.

Everywhere I look, there’s pain. Injustice. Corruption. And people who either don’t see it—or worse—don’t care.

The prison system is eating people alive. Men and women are dying behind those walls. Getting beaten. Getting broken. Getting silenced. And yet, you won’t see it on the nightly news. You won’t hear about it in the paper. The stories get buried, twisted, or ignored altogether.

“Advocates” sit on the outside, preaching about policies and reform, acting like they know what really goes on. But unless you’ve sat in that visitation room, unless you’ve begged a warden for a call, unless you’ve gotten a call from someone who just witnessed a beating or a death, then you don’t know.

My husband is trying to survive hell every single day. And I can only watch from the outside—helpless, heartbroken, exhausted. I try to carry both our pain. But it’s getting too damn heavy.

On top of that, I’ve got people around me who smile to my face and then spit venom behind my back. Fake friends. Empty support. Conditional love. I’m tired of being strong for people who wouldn’t even show up if I broke down.

I’ve got court this Thursday. And instead of feeling brave or prepared, I just want to crawl under a rock and let the world keep spinning without me. I’m tired. So tired.

This world… it feels like the Twilight Zone. Like I’m walking through a movie set where everyone’s playing pretend—pretending that this is all okay. That it’s normal for prisons to be death camps. That hate is just another Tuesday. That broken people are just “the way things are.”

It’s not okay. None of this is okay.

And maybe this post won’t change anything. Maybe it won’t stop the deaths. Or undo the trauma. Or put my heart back together. But I had to let it out.

Because silence is a slow death, too.

To anyone else out there feeling this—like you’re screaming into a void and no one is listening—I hear you. I see you. And I’m with you.

Even shattered, we still matter.

Here is a recent news story, it's NOT the whole video, and he was beaten over a password the other inmates wanted, but the news and the advocate DID NOT report EVERYTHING that is happening! 

https://www.fox10phoenix.com/news/video-arizona-prison-attack-using-padlocks-has-reform-advocate-calling-changes?utm_campaign=trueanthem&utm_medium=trueanthem&utm_source=facebook&fbclid=IwY2xjawKYJT1leHRuA2FlbQIxMQBicmlkETFVY0Rwa3pBVTUyOVpLVGJJAR4RdFbK8Z8Fzrh_aeOY_Q91Bpk8Gs6SLJvrRo7RyK14zE1Q9zMyV51UomL_5w_aem_G-Y7Un8rMXzR4YkFFaNkVQ

I personally know of 2 other inmates this week that have been beaten with locks and the prisons have done NOTHING.

#PrisonStopsNothing #AdvocacyForInmates #AdvocacyForRyan #AdvocacyForKeola #AdvocacyForTheSilenced #FormerCorrectionalOfficer #IKnowTheInside #PrisonReformNow #StopTheAbuse #InvisibleVictims #TruthBehindBars #LovedOneLockedUp #PrisonWifeStrong #JusticeForTheIncarcerated #WeAreNotOkay

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