• Member Since 17th Jul, 2014
  • offline last seen September 5th


I'm a Proud ABDL mommy. Writer of padded pony fics, a lot of fics about Shining Armor and his mom, several about Rainbow Dash and her family, and far more mom stories than you can imagine.

More Blog Posts130

  • 7 weeks

    Greetings from Cali Fimfictioners!

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    4 comments · 105 views
  • 8 weeks
    Finally Free

    Greetings Fimfiction!

    I am very happy to report that I am officially moved out of my old house! I made it to California this past Saturday and have been busying myself with getting settled in and adjusted to a new life. My dog got to come with me and he’s having a bit of trouble adjusting to new people but for the most part he’s doing well.

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    10 comments · 122 views
  • 17 weeks

    Hey fimfiction. I was hoping I wouldn’t post again for y’all until I moved out but today was so intense I needed to vent.

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    9 comments · 260 views
  • 18 weeks
    Hope At Last

    Hey fimfiction! It’s been a while since we’ve talked. I’m sorry about that. It’s been insane, not only with the pandemic but being at home all this time. On the home front (Pun intended XD), I have news for you all.

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    6 comments · 274 views
  • 43 weeks
    Hello Fimfiction 💕

    Hey Everybody! Man, it’s been forever since I was last on here. I hope y’all are doing okay out there with 2020. I’ve been praying for all of you guys to be healthy.

    So much has happened since we last talked, it’s absolutely astounding. Where to even begin? Well, it’s pretty much all good news so I’ll start out simple: I finally got my life together.

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    2 comments · 236 views

The Breakdown · 5:50am Oct 8th, 2019

Well guys, I've come to a realization.

I'm pretty sure if I don't leave home soon, I won't be making it another year in my life. My bedroom is a damn prison cell. I didn't go to the bathroom for eight hours after I woke up (sixteen total, including sleep) because nobody else in my house was awake and if I did go and somebody woke up, I'd hear more soul destroying shit than I could ever handle without hurting myself. I've constantly asked my Mom to put a toilet in my closet but she always says no. Today I got lunch with some of the last money of my social security check (a Gyro from Arby's) after I met with the person at my clinic who's trying to help me get a job, and I ate it in my closet in under three minutes because my uncle was sleeping in the next room and if I woke him, all hell would break loose considering he told me off this morning all because I tried to tell my dad I was leaving and my dad was asleep.

I only leave the house to go to appointments at my clinic, and I only leave my room when nobody else is in the house (there's a trailer in the backyard my Dad and Uncle go to often, so I can use the bathroom then.). I don't even eat until dinner most days because if I disturb them or piss them off, then it's my head being torn off.

I've been constantly yelled at, told I'm a "dumb bitch", told that I'm tearing my family apart when it's really their extreme overreactions that do it. They scream for hours, wake up my mom and I, drag us into arguments that have nothing to do with us, say things to intentionally hurt us (My Dad took a shot at me and my faith today saying how "Entitled" young contemporary christians were with everything, including faith, even though he only goes to church maybe once a year and I went to a bible college for a year before the money ran out and still became an ordained minister), and just think an apology can wipe it away. I bought a carton of cigarettes last month that should have lasted me two months and they stole three packs of my cigarettes without ever telling me (and when I called them out on it, they said they'd replace them. Spoiler alert- they didn't.) and it's almost out. Mom tells me all the time that they don't know any better because they were raised this way, and all of their friends were too. I've tried so hard to do everything right, but it usually ends up blowing up in my face anyways. Everything becomes my fault. I'm the never-ending scapegoat.

But I don't want to be that anymore. I want to know what it's like to actually have a life. I want to see people, I want to be out in the world and not confined to a room. I want to know what it's like to not have to live in constant fear of screwing everything up. I want to be able to go to the bathroom, to get something to eat, to walk around in my house (I literally only go into the bathroom, My mom's room, and my room. I only ever go into the kitchen if my mom is home, and I eat at the dining room table, but I run like hell to get out of there the second I'm done because there's always a good chance a blow up will happen.), to actually sit in a living room for once without always keeping an eye on the garage door and making some excuse to go back to my room the second it opens.

I'm so exhausted from living this way. And I know living like this is just making my mental health problems even worse. At this point there isn't a day when I don't cry to myself at night. I'm sleeping eight hours but I always wake up exhausted. I don't see anybody outside of my house except the staff at my clinic. My friends are all spread out over my state and I usually can't afford to go and see them, plus they're all busy with their jobs. I don't have any other family here, either. I have no place to go to get out of here except maybe a homeless shelter, and I've considered that a lot but I would feel terrible leaving my dog in that mess. He doesn't deserve it, and he's so attached to me that I don't know what he'd do if I wasn't there anymore.

Florida is it. It's my last resort. My aunt and uncle live there, and they could take me for a while if I stayed with them. I've started applying for jobs out there because Dear God If I don't get out of here, I don't know how I'm going to make it. I cannot live as a prisoner here forever, and I refuse to be the scapegoat for two shitty men who refuse to get any help or change. If they want to live like two rabid wolves fighting over a steak, then whatever, but I am not going to be the steak. I want so much more than what I can have here. I want to be alive instead of a puppet for somebody pulling my strings.

I'd rather be homeless in Florida than be here with my family destroying me. I've asked my Mom why she doesn't divorce my Dad- and I've asked a lot, believe me- and she always says "He wasn't like that when I married him", and "I can't afford a divorce" and "I still love him" and as much as I love her it just really pisses me off to think about the fact that she's too timid to tell them off when she's the one who pays all the bills here. I've told her she can just kick them (or sometimes just my uncle) out, but she's always like "Then they'd have nowhere to go, and I can't live with that on my conscience.". I always point out the obvious there- "So you'd rather you and I live in misery than have them out of here so we could live actual lives?", and she never says anything. I admire her level of commitment and kindness, but this is not about kindness, this is about surviving long enough to live real lives.

I've spent twenty four years in hell, and I just want to see what heaven could look like. Where you get stressed about things you should actually stress about, like paying bills or getting to work on time, not stressed about when to open your bedroom door to use the bathroom and when you're going to get to eat because your fear is so paralyzing you literally can't move. I want to be able to go places, and see people I love. I want to be able to not have people constantly tell me everything is my fault. I want to see the sun set on a beach, and I want to see what life could look like for me.

I'm scared. I completely admit that. Holy shit, do I know this will be the most terrifying thing I have ever done. Not just because of the most dangerous time for any woman leaving an abusive situation is when she tries to escape, but because I'm leaving behind everything and everybody I have ever known to try and build a life for myself in a new place. But that fear is nothing compared to my fear of what will happen if I stay here. Either somebody is going to do something to me, or I'm going to start self harming again, or go back into my bulimia again, or attempt suicide the third time because this place is the epitome of what people mean when they say they are trapped in their life. The internet is the only way I contact anybody anymore, so if that or my cell phone gets shut off for God knows what reason, I won't have anybody to talk to about this stuff.

If I don't get out, I don't know what will happen to me, or my dog. My mom doesn't want to go to Florida. She's told me that many times. She says she doesn't like the humidity and she'd have to get her teaching certificate rectified for Florida, and she's built her life here, and actually has friends. I get it, and I respect that. But me? I have maybe three people I talk to from here whom I never see, I have nothing tying me down. Sometimes distance is the best way to burn your bridges. I want to burn the bridge of my anger. I feel so angry all the time being in this house, but I know I can't let it out because if I do, it will just make things worse for everybody else in my house. I want to let it go. I don't want the good times I have had with the men (yes, there actually have been some of those, believe it or not) to be drowned under this thick layer of hate.

More so, I don't want to be a hateful person. But living here is making me into one. The other night my Dad got pissed and told me I'd better learn to control my dog better, because he barked at my uncle when my uncle got near his food. He asked me, "One of us is going to have a heart attack because of that, then how will you feel?". The immediate response that popped into my head was relieved. Because then they'd actually have to go see a doctor who just might be able to figure out some problems for them to work on. But I didn't say that out loud. I just kept eating my French fry.

I've worked so hard to try and do nice things for them just to brighten their day, and every time it ends up blowing up in my face. Two weeks ago it was completely rainy and miserable out. I had a bit of extra money and decided to get pizza, and offered to get one for them. So I did, they came in, and began to eat. It so happens that my Uncle wanted to see what the sauce my Dad had was. He spilled it, and lo and behold, hell broke loose. Him screaming at my Uncle, "You need to get your damn memory checked because something is wrong with you!" and my Uncle saying he didn't do anything wrong (in fact he tried to make it right by spooning the sauce back in while my dad was busy playing on his phone). Lunch was ruined in the space of two minutes because my Dad stormed out. So much for family meals.

I have a job interview on Wednesday. I have no idea what will happen then. I've interviewed at several places before, but because there are always people with more relevant experience than me, and because I don't always interview well due to intense anxiety, I usually get passed over. I'm trying to get out of here, but my God it's hard. I'm playing the online lottery every day. I'm praying constantly for change. I don't know what I can do. So many doors are closing, and I need one to open. My hope for actually managing to get out of this hell hole is being extinguished by the day, but the hope of what life could look like outside of here is making it spark again. It's this constant war inside of me.

I ended up writing this song today about it because I was just so frustrated with the whole thing that I couldn't keep this bottled up inside of me anymore, so I wrote it out:

When you’re being analyzed through someone else’s microscope
Every day you feel the darkness come and it’s hard to have hope
Say all the right lines, do everything right
But when it all falls apart you cry yourself to sleep at night
When you go to bed at night, you always pray
That things are going to get better for you someday
But you don’t believe that it’s really true
So you’re stuck doing everything you think you have to do

But then a voice comes to you, and says “It’s time.
Third times the charm and if you make it you’ll stay out of the fire line.”
You know you can do it, you can break away
Even if you have no idea about the cost you’ll pay

But I’m so sick of living in fear time and again
It’s time to get out and leave behind the world of the men
To get my own place where they can’t come at me anymore
And seeing the world that lives outside of my bedroom door

They try and break me, and take me apart
The words they say leave scars throughout my head and inside of my heart
And much as I’m afraid to take the leap
I would be worse off if I stayed here losing sleep

So I’m getting out now, I’m ready to go
Even if where I am going I have to go alone
I’ll take the good memories, and leave behind the bad
Because it’s time for me to have all the things I’ve never had

I’m so sick of living in fear time and again
It’s time to get out and leave behind the world of the men
To get my own place where they can’t hurt me anymore
And seeing the world that lives outside of my bedroom door

To finally be able to go and walk in your house
And not have to worry about being quiet as a mouse
To not have to listen for clues
For who’s up other than you
And use the bathroom whenever
With no fear whatsoever
To go and eat you wanna
And get mad when you oughta
Without fear of what happens
When the door opens and they’re snapping
Where I can be who I want to be
Where I can be what I always wanted- I could be free

I’m so sick of living in fear time and again
It’s time to get out and leave behind the world of the men
To get my own place where they can’t hurt me anymore
And seeing the world that lives outside of my bedroom door

I just want to leave. I just want to live. But I don't know how much longer I can keep battling a war I haven't won yet. I've tried twice before to escape, to a friend's house (they have someone staying in their spare room, so that's out of the question.). But I got manipulated into coming back here. Not this time. I need there to be distance that makes it impossible to come back. I need distance to figure out who the hell I am outside of them. I need distance to find joy and hope and love. I need to find my own way.

I'm trying to raise $1000 dollars. It would be enough for a plane ticket, some groceries, and some necessities, hopefully long enough to last me until I can get a job down there. My aunt and uncle who moved from here 5 years ago live there, and they've said I can stay with them. I could give them some of that for a sort of rent for taking their couch until I can get a place of my own.

Here's the link to the fundraiser if any of y'all wanna help, even though this is more a vent post: https://www.gofundme.com/f/cloesfloridafund

I have no freaking idea what will happen to me if I get out of here, but it will be better than if I stay. I'd rather live long enough to say I got out of here and chased a dream instead of saying I never lived at all. I don't know what's going to happen next, or what the future has for me. I'm scared. but I want to go. I want to live. I've come too far to quit now, but I can't live here anymore. I'm tired of feeling so stuck and trapped. I'm tired of always having to be quiet instead of being able to do what I need to do to function at a human level.

I want to live a real life.

I hope to God I can live to see myself have one.

Comments ( 22 )

I hope you can live too, almost everyone deserves to live better lives, but your family (except your mother), they deserve to suffer in their mistakes.

I appreciate the sentiment. It's nice to feel like I'm actually talking to people who hear me. I think someday my Dad and Uncle will suffer in their mistakes, but I hope they won't make others suffer in doing so. I pray daily for them realizing the depth of what they've done, but I don't think they will. I've accepted the fact that I may never get a genuine apology from them. I just hope someday they can be better people, or at least that they and I can have like a marginally healthy relationship.

It's shit like this why I really hate god most of the time. It should be me that is suffering like this, not you. God should put this burden on me, not on my mama T_T

Believe me when I tell you God isn't the one pulling strings like these. That's the devil's work. If God hadn't built me up all these years, I'd probably be dead by now.

wish i knew how to get the devil's attention then.......because either i find some way to give him a piece of my mind or ill get driven so high up on stress because of all your hardships that i can't physically be there to help with that i may just make a decision to take my own life.

You already have his attention if you're thinking that way. He wants to take you, and me. Don't let him win. I won't.

You really need to get out of this environment and I mean NOW! The fact that you can't even go to the bathroom out of fear of being told off is disgusting! I can tell you from personal experience that living in this kind of environment is not healthy in any sense of the word! It is not good for your health because this kind of living environment does severe damage to not only your self-esteem and mental health, but also your well-being and physical state as well. Again, I speak from experience.

I know, but I have no money to get there, and no job either. I can't go to a homeless shelter because if I leave my dog behind, he'll get hurt. I'm stuck here for the moment.

5133902 Boy, do I know that feeling. I'm blind, so I'm in the same boat as you.

Stay strong my friend. My inbox is always open to you, and I will be praying for things to get better for you.

You deserve better

5133905 :twilightsmile: Same goes for you. Here's hoping that my wriitng brings a little joy to your day! :pinkiehappy:

5133907 Agreed! :pinkiesmile:

Yep. She does Great Work with her Stories

It always does! Sometimes on the really bad days I reread “A Delicate Relationship” and it makes me remember the world isn’t so bad thanks to writers like you putting yourself out there!

5133909 Yes, she does!

5133910 There are other stories of fhat nature that I've been dying to write, but, unfortunately, I don't have a computer at the moment. I'm hoping by Christmas I'll have a new one.

I’ll be honest, I’d never seen an emotional abuse victim before.

Then, I read these.

Ok, I just want to fly over and give your dad and uncle an uppercut, or five, to show what I feel the equivalent of mistreating you is. Unfortunately, I have $90, so I can’t do that.

You deserve so much more than this, your stories are good (despite me not reading much anymore... sorry), and you seem like a pretty good and honest person.

Here’s to hoping you escape and go down to Florida.

Please mind the pfp, probably not the best one to use right now, but whatever.

God watch over you.

If you're an ordained minister why not get a job as a pastor?

I looked at those. They require you to have a certain number of years of pastoral experience which I unfortunately do not have.

One of those you need experience to get experience problems? I've been there.

The only way he'll take me is if he takes you mama. You wont let him take you, then I'll keep fighting him.

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