Dexter’s Lab

I love the show Dexter!

Not the throwback of the kid in the laboratory, but the undercover psychopath that kills bad people.

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One of my BIGGEST pet peeves in life is UNFAIRNESS, I love for things to be fair and square. This is exactly what Dexter does. He gives these bad people what they gave to others. He does things to them that other people wouldn’t have the balls, conscious or stomach for.

And there was a word mentioned on the show, the word Antisocial Personality Disorder.

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Naturally, I looked it up and low n’ behold these were traits that an ex I once dated possessed. He told me about his traumatic life and I realized he’s a lot like Dexter. He feels empty, and hes just looking for something to fill the hole.

But…instead of filling his hole with unsightly victims, he tries to fill it with women, and one of those women happened to be me, Victim numberprobably lost count.

Even after I asked him, and questioned him about dating I was convinced that I could let my guard down. My co-workers knew, my friends knew, his ex knew, and when it all crumbled away in just 2 short months I felt excruciating embarrassment. And the worst part was everyone still loved him. They did not have to see the side I saw. To them, he was the sunshine in the fucking sky. He didn’t feel any remorse, no sadness. He even got mad when I wouldn’t treat him like everyone else, and again I got a glimpse of the mean side, that only I got to see.

Eventually he got a new girl and carried on his life like normal. It felt like he was rubbing it in my face. I wanted him to feel the pain I did. But he doesn’t feel emotion or remorse, it doesn’t affect him.

I wish I could be a Dexter, that would set that shit straight. People always get away with hurting others emotionally because there is not consequence, but that shit hurts. Invisible wounds that you are supposed to brush off while the ones who caused those wounds, they get to live out their lives without feeling a thing.

I wanted to stab him in the leg while looking him dead in his eyes. I could watch him curse and scream. 

“There now there’s a hole that REALLY needs to be filled,” I would say,

His eyes might water, and his face would turn red. And he would finally know how it felt. He would finally pay for his crime against me. And every time he looks at his leg there would be a scar to remind him not to use people to fill himself up, like others are concrete. Not to pretend to be something hes not. Not to manipulate and misguide. Not to be a liar. To play FAIR. And when the police would come because he pressed charges I would simply say;

“He cant feel pain on the inside, so he had to feel it on the outside. He uses people and he deserves it.”

The police would agree and the world would be in balance once again.


Anyway who’s side would you be on?


-Dexter for a Day



Therapy Blues

When I first thought about going to therapy I was quite young; young enough for my

mom to dismiss my tiny curiosity.

In my 20th year of life I got the courage (and the insurance) to see a therapist that my aunt recommended. He was a large man with a rumbling voice, which made me a little uncomfortable. It was really awkward for me because he was not someone I knew, nor was he a close friend, so it felt like I was reading a grocery list. I was scared, but I tried my best to say what I felt. After a few sessions, I realized this man would listen to me partly, and soon the topic would be shifted towards himself. I felt like an open wine bottle that got re corked, so I stopped going.

A few months later I began seeing a psychotherapist, and I just knew it would work this time. She was a slender woman with a thick Portuguese accent, and during our sessions a cute Pyrenees dog by the name of max would let me pet him. She introduced me to the concept of CBT or cognitive behavioral therapy, which basically means taking the old thinking patterns in my brain, questioning them and then changing them over a period of time. I liked this idea a lot, but I was quickly turned off when I was advised to buy a book. I tried to keep going but the connection was not there.

The last therapist I saw was this bubbly brunette who kept snacks in her office. She was really sweet, and I really wanted to stick with therapy so I would go on Friday every week. I really thought things would get better, but I still felt the same. I felt like my feelings were so erratic that it was hard to explain, or that she would not understand. In the end I just stopped going.

Price wise all of these sessions ranged from 90 to 20 dollars and a lot of therapists/psychotherapists do not take insurance.  This along with commute times and having to come after work was so draining for me, so I don’t know if i see therapy in my future. I am looking into a pet, possibly a guinea pig or lizard, something small that I can hold and take care of.

In the mean time I have found that working out helps a lot, eating the right food and getting enough alone time to do things that I enjoy.

I’m a pusher Cady, I push people

I’m a pusher alright. Saying that makes me think of someone in labor. Anyway does any one else push everyone away? I think that’s why I low-key want to move away all the time, so I can drive a bigger wedge in between me and THEM.

To my friends: I’m not going to invest a lot of anything in you because you probably see me as disposable, and therefore will drop me as soon as you find out that the girl you thought was super cool, is actually super insecure and sad. She’s gonna have a really hard time keeping a connection with you because her anxiety is gonna leave her in a mess of frazzled nerves. Oh, and don’t worry I’ll make sure to put you through “tests” to find out if you will stay because that’s what people love to do in their spare time right?

To any guys/love interests: I’ll be myself for the first few days, mostly because I’m nervous and I cant pretend to be the other Cheiyenne. We will connect well enough , but after a week passes I’m going to start feeling awkward because I won’t know how to be “chill” anymore. I’m gonna obsess over the fact that I’m not the same Cheiyenne you met a week ago and wonder how long you will put up with my insecurities before you bolt. I will also lose faith in myself and assume that you will find someone better, but at the same time hoping you don’t go anywhere.

To my family: Boy, I feel the worst for you guys. You have to live with me and see my erratic mood swings. You get to live with a hermit who will show very little enthusiasm when you come home because I want to “be alone” but really I’m just pushing you away because you care about me. You care enough to ask how I am, and you’re always saying nice things which makes me think that you’re lying. God forbid you hurt my feelings at all because it gives me an excuse to put up a wall. Because being a close knit family feels gross and unrealistic in my head.

To my casual acquaintances: I hope you cash me on a good day because if you don’t I will most likely act brand new. Mostly because I feel weird when I have not seen someone in a while and I don’t feel like entertaining you with the Cheiyenne you’re used to because I’m too depressed on the inside. Also I feel like you don’t like me anyway so whats the point right? lol

To my body: I’m sorry that I intentionally hurt you by eating bad, and keeping you locked away in your room. I’m sorry that I don’t take care of you the way I should. I’m sorry for all the stress and the fact that I don’t let you rest. I’m sorry that I allow people to violate you who have no right to.

Maybe I’ll try a therapist again lol

Monday Morning Blues

No matter how upset I get I have to remember not to hurt myself on purpose. I just want to intentionally screw up things for myself as punishment. I want to take the hurt I feel and use it to hurt myself. I should channel it into something more productive, but right now I just feel so down. Earth can really be hell for me most of the time. I’m getting stretched so much these days, it hurts. Things are so much better when I’m alone, but maybe being alone needs to change. Maybe being alone isn’t as comforting as I think it is. I want to isolate myself when I get hurt, so maybe I should speak up instead. Okay Have a Great Morning!

Dreaming in color ♥

Do I dream in color? I thought about this and realized that maybe there is no color…Maybe the plane of my sub conscious goes beyond color. I always assume that my dreams are in color, but then again I can not vividly remember any color being present. I just experienced something, and color had no significance to me at the time. I do not believe the sub conscious needs color. I think that I go into a dream state and I am apart of that state of being. Color is not something I notice. I am so used to seeing it that I assume it must be there. 

Dick Size

What do they think?

They is loosely meaning all of us, all those invisible standards we live by that is ingrained within our own cultures. Standards that develop and redevelop all through the years. I saw a commercial talking about dick size and I wondered what if having a big dick was considered un-attractive? What if guys with big dicks got made fun of for that, and any girl that had a man with a big dick is “missing out”. So I thought that it really doesn’t matter whether the quality you like about someone or something, or anything really, is not what is widely accepted. Because somewhere else that quality is the ideal. Ideals change anyway so its kind of dumb to reject things we like for the sake of reality right?