All posts for the month July, 2018

Published July 29, 2018 by Chloe Madison

Well, I had a pretty wonderful time at the beach. We camped for days and having a companion has made all the difference. It’s been fun to see her experience so many new things.

I felt super lucky- super blessed- to have some unique experiences. We got to see a giant sea turtle coming up one night to nest. The problem is we must have scared her because she abruptly turned around and went back into the ocean. I told God I was sorry I scared his turtle and I hope she comes back to lay her eggs. I walked the beach every night looking for her again, but never found her.

One of those nights I saw a tiny, glowing green light down on the sand. At first, I thought it was biolumescent phytoplankton. But I think that glows blue and is seen by the thousands. This was one speck and it was green. So I think I may have seen the thermoluminescence of fluorite in the sand. I’m not really sure. Either way, it was super cool.

The last night there, I left my friend in the tent sleeping and I went for another midnight beach walk until 2 am. I walked for hours and miles- to the point that I got blisters from walking on the sand. I loved it though. Walking in the moonlight on the beach, hearing the waves crashing, smelling the sea salt, feeling the warm sea spray…it was magical. I tried to talk to God multiple times. I kept asking him what he wanted me to do- how does he want me to serve him? I kept getting something that starts with an “s” but I couldn’t make out what it was. I feel like God doesn’t try too hard to talk to me. Or maybe I don’t listen very well.

Anyway, I seriously want to retire to a beach. It’s so enjoyable. I dove to catch fish with my bare hands until my eyes were burning from the sea water. It was so reminiscent of the fun I had as a kid growing up near the ocean.

There were only a few times something bad went down. Several times, while sitting alone in my beach chair watching the waves, I felt super depressed. It’s like- when the world stops, my depression jumps on me instantly. I had to occupy myself to shake it off. Then, there was this guy- an older man, who I saw kept circling us on the beach. He’d walk by us, go all the way down the beach nearly out of sight, then would come back. He walked these giant circles multiple times. He said hi one time. Then he said, “nice day for a walk on the beach.” Then, after walking a few more circles around us, he approached me again and said, “I hope you don’t take offense, but you have a beautiful body. I just admire beautiful people and you have a beautiful body. I don’t mean nothin’ by it. Hope it’s ok if I say that. You’ve got a really beautiful body.”

Oph. This is the point where I knew he was super creepy. I was already weirded out because he kept walking by over and over again. When he came by again, I was sitting in my beach chair and I pulled my hat down over my face and pretended to be asleep.

I thought maybe that’s the kind of guy who’s a predator. I don’t know.

It made me worried to walk on the beach alone at night. I wish I had my firearm with me to feel safe. I carried my flashlight and my phone. That’s it. I felt very, very vulnerable…but I went out walking anyway.

Part of me wonders if my disregard for my safety in situations like that is a bad thing. Like, is it self- harm to do stuff like that? I think sleeping in my car is too. I think quite a bit of what I do that disregards my safety could be that.

I feel this world is so dangerous. I recall saying something like that to someone kind of recently. I can’t remember who. But their response shocked me. They said something like- I live in the same dangerous world you do- and so does my family. I realized this person doesn’t get it. They don’t get PTSD. They don’t understand how deeply hurt I’ve been and how trusting people- even a stranger walking on the beach, is impossible. I can’t expect people to understand, I guess. Unless they’ve experienced the violence and trauma of being raped multiple times and being choked and being molested by their own father, they couldn’t possibly get where my view of this sick world comes from. I don’t think this is really PTSD. Honestly, this is a normal reaction- to not trust, to have fear all the time- that’s normal if you’ve been through these things. My fear isn’t unfounded and it’s not a freaking disease.

Anyway, the first few days we were at the beach, we had a double red flag warning- rip tide. One person drowned that first day. The water was closed, but with no lifeguards, people can do whatever they want. I thought of taking advantage of this. But I also thought that would be a horrible way to go. I’ve always had a fear of drowning since I was little. And when I was a teenager, I got caught in a rip tide once and got pulled out super quickly. I remember my feet getting sucked out from under me, being sucked out, getting dragged along the ocean floor, spinning around and around. I remember trying to claw at the sand when I was face down. When I surfaced, I was super far from the beach. I was exhausted by the time I swam back. My necklace, rings, and my all-time favorite bracelet (an Indian made turquoise and silver cuff) had been sucked off my body. I think the only reason my swimsuit was still on was because it was a one piece. I’ve never forgotten the sudden violence the ocean showed me that day. Maybe that’s why I think drowning would be a horrible death.

Today, I’m back at my mom’s for a few days. Today, I had a migraine. Today, I had many sad thoughts. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I have to go home, back to reality, back to being alone. I’m worried about that. I’m worried about that a LOT.

I stopped in at my brother’s on the way here. I watched his little girl ask him, “what’s wrong, daddy?” over and over again. I looked at him and he was sitting back in a chair in full relaxation mode with a little smirk on his face. She asked him again, “what’s wrong, daddy?” He answered, “Not a thing…not a thing.” He kept smirking.

This hit me hard- in both a good way and a bad way. I’m very happy for my brother. His life is so blissful. And full. I’m glad he’s getting to experience being a father and having a family. He’s very happy. But it hurts to know I will never experience this. I feel like so many people take this for granted. Every single person I know is married and has children. Everyone has a family. Everyone is so blessed. Everyone has constant companionship, a full life, and constant love being given and received…everyone is so, so lucky.

I will never have a family. I don’t know why God would do that to me. It’s like I don’t deserve it or something. I joke to myself that I couldn’t handle having little kids because I’m a bit of a germaphobe. But that’s not the truth of why God doesn’t trust me with children. I’ve already lost two. I can never forgive myself for that. It’s all my fault.

Published July 23, 2018 by Chloe Madison


Why is wanting this so wrong?

This is me, my grandmother, and my little brother (he still gnaws on bottles). This photo makes me so angry. To see my sweet grandmother, who I adored…. to now know she covered up my sexual abuse. I just can’t fathom this.

There are pictures like this everywhere. Pictures of my dad. My grandmother. I can’t ask my mom to simply take it all down. That wouldn’t take away the memories anyway.

Published July 22, 2018 by Chloe Madison

I had so much anger with God last night. I just do not understand him. That is the one consistent thing throughout my entire life- that I don’t understand why God does what he does.

Yesterday, my brother tried to trick me into eating a lychee nut. They’re nasty snot balls. We had a giant lychee nut tree in our yard growing up. He would eat them and I would use them as ammunition and throw them at him. As his children giggled because I was grossed out by the lychee nut, I glanced at him while he was laughing. His eyes had pure joy in them. That’s something I’ll never have. I’ve wanted to tell my brother why I was in the hospital, without revealing the issue with our dad. But after seeing his joy, I can’t do that to him. I surely can’t tell him about our dad. But hearing his kids’ names consistently and calling them out myself, I’m saying my dad’s name… it hurts. It messes with my head in a way that I don’t fully understand. So I can’t even begin to explain it.

I thought of my cousin who knew about the allegations against my dad and I wondered if he ever said anything to my brother about it. I tried to ask my brother yesterday, but I chickened out. I swear…some things are best left unsaid. For my brother, what he doesn’t know about our father really equates to his bliss. I have to keep it that way.

I think this is part of what makes my loneliness feel exponentially deeper. Not only am I physically alone, but I carry this burden alone. My uncle, my dad, me, the others who raped and molested me…. This is what God has given me in life. Did he give me a loving husband? No. Did he give me a family? No. He gave me abusers, rapists, molesters…

When I feel like I’m whining- like right now- I think of something my first therapist taught me. She said that whatever age people are when they experience significant abuse or trauma, they can revert to that same “emotional age” throughout their life. So I wonder, are the feelings I just described those of a wounded 9 year old girl? Should I be so hard on myself for immaturely being mad at God for all of this? For abandoning me and not caring? I feel ashamed because I feel this is so immature of me. But these are my raw emotions. I can’t control them. I can only control how I act on the outside towards others. Pretend you’re happy. Pretend you’re mature. No one wants to be dragged down anyway. No one wants to be around a Debbie Downer. I wonder if that’s why my friends abandoned me when I was in the hospital. I still don’t understand that. It still hurts.

What I do understand is that I am sick of this. I’m so sick of battling my way through life all alone. I’m sick of pretending that God will eventually bring someone into my life. He’s just not going to. I don’t know why and I don’t understand that. But it makes me unhappy and alone and seeing how unwanted I am.


Known and unwanted.

Published July 22, 2018 by Chloe Madison

I was hit kind of hard with some news today. My 911 friend is no longer moving back to the States. I am so, so bummed about it. I was really looking forward to having his positive influence back in my life again.

I’ve had so many thoughts run through my mind about this. I’m trying to remain positive and realize this must be God’s will. I have this viewpoint- that I consider immature- that when God takes people out of my life, he’s showing me he doesn’t love me or care for me. I know it can’t be true, but those are the thoughts that are overwhelming my head right now. I remember thinking that when my 911 friend first left a year ago. And….shit. To be honest, I was thinking that by bringing my friend back, God was caring for me. That’s part of why I thought God was going to make me face things and deal with it. I didn’t like that, but I know I need to do it. So I saw it as God loving me.

And now, my friend isn’t coming and my thoughts are that God just doesn’t care. I can try to fool myself into believing he does, but it’s BS.

I need to change the subject before I go off the deep end here.

Having a companion on this trip has been really good. Not being alone has kept my mind and all the bad thoughts at bay. Well, for the most part. I’m surprised at how well that has worked. Give me constant companionship and I’m pretty darn ok. There have been times- especially the lull after thrills or adventures- where my brain reminds me of where I am in life. I get super despondent pretty quickly. I just went whitewater rafting yesterday and the ride back was terribly sad. As soon as the energy and excitement quieted down, everything hit me strongly and swiftly. I was alone with my thoughts for a whole 25-30 minutes. That’s all it took.

This makes me wonder about how things will be when I get back. Back to reality, back to work, back to solitude and loneliness. I almost don’t want to think about it. But it’s right around the corner.

This is my life. Loneliness, sadness, shame of my very being. This is all I have in this f**ked up world. I don’t know why God does this. I really don’t. I talk to him and ask. But he doesn’t answer. And people wonder why I don’t want this forever. Wtf?!

Is this what I have to look forward to? A “fatherly” God who ignores, leaves, doesn’t protect, doesn’t love, lets terrible things happen to even innocent people…? How the hell can I trust that? Seriously. The notion of trusting him is ridiculous.

Published July 18, 2018 by Chloe Madison

Having super bad nightmares- all different kinds and tons of them. The good thing is I’m sleeping much better and am able to go back to sleep after waking up from all of these terrible dreams. The nightmares have been relentless though. I don’t know what’s going on with that. My mind is such a scary place.

My mom is starting to get to me. She keeps calling me fat. But in her defense, I really am. I’ve gained so much weight since Christmas- a solid 25 pounds. 😣 Most of my clothes don’t fit me any more. I feel so ashamed of myself. I was ugly and alone before. Now I’m ugly, alone, AND fat. Awesome. It’s totally my fault though. I’d like to blame the meds for increasing my appetite, but I’m not sure that’s the case. I’ve been eating everything I see- for months now. I take full blame for that.

I went through several days where my anxiety and irritability was through the roof. I couldn’t control my irritability and I felt so terrible. It’s much better now and I’m very grateful. I just don’t want my irritability to translate to rudeness or unhappiness to anyone else. If I’m going through something, I want it to only bother me- not spread to anyone else. That’s not fair.

So I’m glad a lot of that is gone now. I hope it stays that way.

I’m still getting pretty triggered by seeing my dad’s name and his stuff here. I’m especially bothered by things I made for him as a little kid. Seeing my tiny handprint on something made for my abuser just messes with my head. It kills me. My former innocence a

Published July 16, 2018 by Chloe Madison

Haven’t slept well for days now. Migraines for two days. I’ve been at my mom’s for two days.

Seeing reminders of my dad everywhere is triggering me like never before. I’m very surprised actually. Don’t quite know how to deal with it.

I’m thinking of telling my brother why I was hospitalized. But I absolutely can’t share why I have PTSD, Major Depressive Disorder, and Anxiety. I can’t imagine ruining his life. I can’t imagine if I told him, that he’d be able to cope well. He wasn’t victimized and so doesn’t have that to deal with- but he idolizes our father. I can’t bring his world crashing down on him the way it’s crashed down on me.

When I was at my best friend’s place, we went to a water park where you climbed high towers to reach the top of the slides. I stood in line there for so long, overlooking the place…. I had some “unhealthy” thoughts and imagined some terrible things. I feel so ashamed to say that. That was almost a week ago and I’m just now admitting it.

My 911 friend might be moving back to the States. Part of me thinks it’ll never happen. A big part of me is ecstatic. He’s an incredible person- I always learn from him and he is one of the very few who knows what I’m going through. But part of me is absolutely terrified. I know that all he needs to do is make a phone call and I can be locked up again. That will never be ok with me. Never. I have so much fear about him coming back. I feel more comfortable with him being far away. Part of me thinks maybe this is God’s way of making me man up and face things…of not letting me hide anymore. But I am so, so petrified of saying the wrong thing or giving a bad impression.

My mind is swirling with my dad and my brother…do I even bother to say anything at all? Telling the truth is liberating. And if they want to judge me, then f**k them. This is who I am and the cards I was dealt in life. I’m doing the best I can to deal.

It’s how I feel about the prick who now lives in my state, way too close for comfort. I can tell my brother part of my PTSD is from that guy moving closer to me. I can just tell him I can’t share the rest- about my dad. I’m not sure he will understand.

I have so much hate for that bastard. I literally f**king hate that guy. I need to somehow forgive. But I can’t yet. I hate that fothermucker. I hear Jonathan Davis’ anguished voice in my head when I feel this. The end of the song, “Daddy” where he cries and releases his pain….that’s all I can think of.

That’s me.

Published July 9, 2018 by Chloe Madison

Nightmares, nightmares, nightmares. What is going on??

Last night, in one of my nightmares Iron Man was choking me over and over again. What does that even mean? That even superheroes can’t be trusted? Everyone, even the “good” people will hurt you? Or I wonder if it has something to do with seeing how bad people get away with everything…so they’re seemingly all-powerful. I’m super intimidated by one of the people who violated me- just because he’s an attorney and was in the Coast Guard. It makes him seem absolutely unstoppable.

The Iron Man dream was only one of many last night. I went to bed at 2am and woke up at 9am. In between, I woke up about ten times from different nightmares. Went right back to sleep to another bad dream. I only had one benign dream last night. I was finding shark teeth on a beach and had returned someone’s lost pants. They had their wallet attached to the side of the pants so I could figure out who to contact in order to give all their money and their pants back.

I’m praying I’m not so irritable today. I feel so bad about it. I need to be happier.