The Truman Show

⚠️ LISTENER DISCRETION IS HEAVILY ADVISED: This episode features explicit language, the processing of severe psychological stress, and references to past violent situations. Steven states clearly on the record that his anger is an expression of his internal state and that the podcast serves as his absolute boundary of restraint. 

Host Steven Meyers Jr. was supposed to drop Episode 6 today to dissect the Lindsey Thurston setup and the February 2025 restraining orders. But on this quiet holiday morning, the timeline is hitting pause.

In this deeply personal and completely unfiltered dispatch, Steven steps away from the legal breakdown to address the absolute raw weight of surviving a living nightmare while trying to be a dad.

In this special session, Steven opens up about:

• The jarring call on a private number with a filtered voice that revealed brand-new information about who allegedly hired the person that put a gun to his head.
• The reality of managing severe depression and why stand-up comedy, making music, and active involvement in the industry serve as his ultimate lifelines to stay above water.
• A direct look back at October 2022 and how his father was willing to put him in a position to violate a court order just to win a petty argument.
• The absolute, unwavering line he holds for Cannabis Indica: strictly used for symptom regulation and neverconsumed around his daughter Kiara.
• The incredible level of daily restraint required to sit on a microphone and do a podcast when faced with absolute silence and manipulation from his blood family.

http://thefirstamendmentcollection.creator-spring.com

Transcript

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I was supposed to be dropping episode six, or at least working on it to finish it today. A little bit of time I had free this morning before doing Easter things. And we were gonna talk about Lindsay Thurston and uh February 2025 restraining orders. Um but I'm hitting pause on the timeline. Today is Easter Sunday, it's supposed to be a quiet day, and instead I'm getting ready to run to the Dollar General to grab some more candy to put in plastic eggs for Kiara, which thanks to good friends, I wouldn't have if they weren't here. I'm just hoping I can make her smile while dealing with the fact that my life has turned into a fucking nightmare version of the Truman show. And I am sick of this shit. So earlier this week, uh I was driving. Uh hands free, like always. Uh I I I have the attention span of a gnat smoking crystal meth driving a bulldozer down the interstate. I promise you, if I put my phone in my hand while I'm driving, I'm gonna crash my car. So it's always voice or hands free, you know. So a call comes through on a private number. Now, the minute I see a private number, I immediately think Sheriff's Department. Somebody's calling me, what trouble did I get in? Law enforcement generally calls only from private numbers. So I pick up the phone, wondering who filed a restraining order on me now. Um, well, not pick up the phone, I answer it while I'm driving. Um the voice on the other end is run through a filter, and honestly, a pretty impressive one. I have no idea who they are. I don't know their name, gender, legitimately nothing. But as I'm pulling over to take this call, they wanted to talk about the hit that was put on me. I was asked to describe both Amanda, the grandmother of my kids, and my sister Angela. So I provided physical descriptions. I have it just it takes a lot to get me terrified. So to say that I was uh scared at this moment moving forward uh would be a lie. But you can be terrified and still be brave. So it was what it was. And this filtered voice tells me that the person who allegedly hired them to put a gun to my head and pull the trigger didn't match Amanda at all. It matched my sister. Then before hanging up, and I'm paraphrasing here because I didn't record the call, didn't have a chance to record the call, had no way to record the call. I mean, I usually record with my phone, wasn't wearing my Ray-Ban stories, and uh I'm not sure if this was a call that needed to be recorded to begin with. Um you know, as they say, there's honor among thieves. So moving forward, they tell me they're proud of me, to keep doing well, and that I have nothing to worry about from them. Click? I just sat there on the side of the road. The the the the scared and the terrified starts going away and being replaced by fury and rage. Complete rage. I'm wondering, not sure if it's realizing, but wondering, is any of the $2,000 my sister borrowed from me and never paid back ever was used to put ahead of my life, or like however the fuck that gets worded? And if not, she's got no pot to piss in. Like, where would she have gotten the money to to pay somebody to do this? Especially somebody who knows how to mask their voice. It's like it raises so many questions. But here's the thing. I'm not going to the police. I'm putting it right here on the mic. And for the record, the 12 individuals who hold the deadmint switches have been apprised if anything does happen to me. That at this moment. Before I move any forward, I cannot prove anything that I just said happened. I have no way to prove that I'm telling the truth. I have no way to show that this is empirical. So either don't believe me or do. I couldn't care less. But this is a life I wouldn't wish on anybody. All I can say, on a personal note, before I get back to the rest of this, is that there is nothing about any bit of the experience involving what I will say the hitman, for lack of a better term, that I deserved or that I enjoyed. This is just fucking garbage. And that's all there is. And anybody who would do that is fucking garbage. And I can't prove it was Angela, but it looks like Amanda was set up. And well, if they know about the podcast, they fucking know now. And if anybody's got anything they want to say about this, well, you can do what the criminal did and you can give me a call. I would just prefer you not mask your voice so I can at least know who I'm talking to, but you know, wish in one hand, shit in the other. And people wonder how I survived this without losing my ever-loving mind. They look at the court papers and the lies, and they don't understand the incredible fucking restraint I show every single day towards people. I don't mind having an uncomfortable conversation, and I would rather step outside with an enemy, hash it out, and be done with it than anything else. Just let this be done. A small amount of suffering for a lifetime of peace. But my family, they won't talk to me. They hide. This podcast is the only accountability that exists. What keeps my head above water? It isn't those useless new age breathing exercises or pharmaceutical pills that turn you into a zombie. And yeah, I get it, they help some people. Go fucking good for them. I'm not some people, so I don't give a shit. Me. Here's what helps me. Stand-up comedy. Like Steve Hofstetter, Doug Stanhope, Bill Burr, Chrysler. I can keep going. Tom Segura. Ari Shafir, Joey Diaz, Andrew Schultz, Shane Gillis. Like, I can keep going. Just funny, funny comedians. And without forgetting our ladies like Leonora Joni, uh Jordan Jensen, uh Nikki Glazer. We can keep going. Stand-up comedy is a lifesaver for me. I'm also most importantly, uh, most importantly, Christopher Titus. Um if you haven't listened to Dooms to Repeat or Carrying Monsters, I think it's Carrying Monsters. Is that the one with the newest one he put up on YouTube? Oh my god, it's it's just brilliant. Uh absolutely brilliant. Uh you think I'm going through some bullshit. This man went through fucking hell. Millions and millions of dollars over an 11-year period and over a hundred-plus court visits and getting crucified by his ex-wife. Nah, nah, nah. No, no, no. That guy went through a nightmare. I feel so bad for him, but I can identify with him and his comedy, and it helps me. And making music, that helps me too. Being involved in the industry, that helps me as well. But physically, cannabis indica. No, I abide by the court orders. I never, under any circumstances, consume it around my daughter. But when the depression and the fear start to take over, it shuts the noise down, and I can go on about my day and just fake it until I make it. Because without that anchor, I just think about the reality of who these people are. Well, before I go here, uh let me give you one more example. To October 2022, excuse me, sorry. I know I should take that out, but um fuck it. I'm not gonna edit anything here. I'm just gonna kind of put this up and be done with it, and then you know, go on about enjoying Easter. October 2022. I'm dropping Chiara off. Uh, we're on the way to go drop her off, rather. Now my father's in the car, he's one of the supervisors of the visit. Well, he's the only one, really. At this point, I kicked Angela out of my life. Uh and dad was the only person, according to the court order, that could supervise visits. It had to be somebody Monica and I would both agree on, and you know, there we are. Um he starts an argument, he's pushing my buttons. Like, I can't remember what he started the argument over. It had I I think he felt inconvenienced that he had to ride in the car to go drop Ciara off. It's going from Saxopa to uh we'll just say the outer edge of Julian was where we were going at the time, excuse me. And uh I I feel like he felt he was inconvenienced, so he just started running his mouth. And then uh the the topic of uh getting uh getting around like how I wish he would just kind of pick a side when it comes to Angela and I came up. And so it's midway to it's midway point. We're I think we're at the Belmont gas station. Um for those of you in Alamance County, uh near the old Belmont school. I mean, it's like super, super, super antique old, like super old. Um my dad says to me, uh, let me out here, you can go drop Kiara off yourself. And I'm just thinking to myself, my father just told me my 60-something year old old ass father just says to me that he wants me to drop him off. Knowing, knowing, right? For example, knowing that that uh there's a shit storm that could happen from this. He knew exactly what he was doing. If I pull up to drop off Kiara without him, I'm violating the court order. He was willing to set me up for a violation just to win an argument, this motherfucker. I told him no, I kept driving. I was like, look, we're gonna handle this uh when I drop her off. Let's just, you know, stop arguing in front of my kids. Like, like I'm telling him this, like, before we start screaming at each other, because we're not screaming, we're just arguing and well, I know I'm naturally loud, but he's naturally loud err. And also annoying as fuck. Like his voice sounds like Jack Nicholson's fucked a mosquito. So I don't know, like, you know, if anybody wants to hear that willingly, I sure as hell don't. And definitely not in any form of an argument. So we drop her off together and handle this on the ride back. So on the ride back, Saks Pa, like, he starts screaming and I start screaming because I'm just tired of his fucking shit. And I'm sick of his abuse, and like all I can think about is like, you know what? Is there a way I could just like drive really fast and then hit the brakes and watch this motherfucker go through the windshield? I mean, like, I'm having fantasies about it, but guess what? Didn't fucking do it. So, I mean, I think there's a clear, concise difference between somebody who wants to commit violence and doesn't do it versus somebody who does commit violence without thought of consequence or you know, your moral character being damaged. Um, I finally look at him, okay? While I'm driving, I look at him and I say, Dad, do you really believe that I abused my own sister? And he screams at me, now he really sounds like that. Like I told you, Jack Nicholas, mosquito. That's that's that. So I ask the logical question, then why the fuck are we arguing? If you don't believe I did these awful things, why take a side and tell me to go get mental health help? Like, fucking, what about this bitch? Send this chick to the fucking hospital. This Looney Tune's dope. Are you serious right now? He sits in dead silence for the rest of the trip. You can feel the hate radiating off of him. This man believes a liar who won't even let herself be confronted over his own son. So if you're listening to this audit on this quiet holiday morning, understand this. Unless you're in my circle of friends, and don't think that my circle of friends likes me 100%, it's okay that like some of them are like, hey man, you got a couple colleagues that kind of suck, and like I listen, and hopefully I try to change, and you know, I I'm not perfect, but you know what? They're loyal as fuck, and so am I. And if a body needed to be hid, a motherfucker could be called. Only trust your inner circle. Not one person outside of it has your best interest at heart. And make sure you have their best interests at heart because that's your true family. You should be incredibly thankful, all of you. Anybody in this world who has wronged me in the context of the custody case, of the amazing, copious, blessed restraint I possess. I hold it together, and I do my best to stay in the light. Sully, so I can go hide plastic eggs from taller general and see my daughter smile here in a couple hours. Now I'll see you all in episode six.