Published March 7, 2018 by Chloe Madison

Nothing much to report. The last few days have been a bit difficult, but not all that bad in terms of my mood. I haven’t been able to sleep much and I’m completely exhausted from it. I woke up at 2 am with a lovely migraine. Thank God my migraine meds nearly worked by the time I went in to work. I’m so exhausted though from not sleeping well these past few nights. I was never able to sleep after 2 am because of the severe pain.

Surprisingly and despite all this, I’ve been in a pretty good mood. I get irritated easily, but I get over it easily- and I think the irritability is more from depression than anything else. I’m still sore from my jaunt in the woods and I still have huge blisters from it.

I have been thinking about that still. The way I handled it really bothers me. I was way too calm. I’d like to say that was gleaned from my survival training…but I feel there’s a more sinister cause. And it’s that I don’t care if I lose my **** or not. I honestly think that’s why I wasn’t panicking. The other possibility is exhaustion. I was dragging so badly toward the end there that I was tripping and stumbling and couldn’t think straight. (Well, hell…I can’t think straight period.) I had become so dehydrated that I ate snow. Funny tasting and slightly slimy snow….but I had to in order to get a bit of hydration so I could keep trudging along. Perhaps I was too exhausted to panic or care if I ****. Or perhaps, not so deep down, I was pleased and wishing this could be it.

In the past year or so, I’ve felt numb and dead. The very few times I actually felt alive stuck out to me. I was thinking that maybe I’m seeking thrills to feel alive…or maybe I’m acting recklessly (as a friend said I was) because I don’t feel anything. I was truly stunned by her comment when she said it. This only happened a few weeks ago and I didn’t feel I was putting myself in danger at all. I tried to see it from the outside, from her view- and I just couldn’t.

Anyway, the day I got lost and my thoughts and mood still haunt me a bit. I want to go back out there either this weekend or the next. I’ll be much more careful this time and I’ve already studied the area on Google Earth and have taken screen shots of it that I can hike with. Water…I’ll bring that next time too. I’m not sure why I’m drawn to this remote place. Maybe it’s just the thrill of the chase.

Published March 4, 2018 by Chloe Madison

I don’t know where to start. Yesterday was disturbing. For one reason only- my apathy toward being lost in the wilderness and possibly losing my ****. Actually, I’d say that I’m not lucky enough to actually **** ** ****- the only thing that bothered me yesterday was the thought of having to spend a very uncomfortable and very cold night out in the wild.

I drove about 3 hours out into the mountains and went hiking in a remote area. I saw one other person the entire day. I had hiked up to the crest of a ridge and saw a guy hiking below on the dirt road. I don’t know why I felt so threatened. I hid from him. Even though he was far below me, I still felt the need to duck and hide. So I did.

And I had already left the dirt road and went off to that ridge. I hiked back down and went up a different ridge. My curiosity got the better of me and I kept thinking, ‘I want to see what’s beyond the next ridge.’ So I kept going and going. I must have ventured about 4-5 miles off the dirt road. I got lost. Thank God I have an amazing sense of direction. I used the sun to navigate in the general direction I thought my car was in. I finally found the dirt road, but it was down a steep, rocky incline. I went down it and finally reached the road, only to realize I had gone so far- this was not the same dirt road I had begun walking on. I had set off on a dirt road that was closed to motorized vehicles until June 15. My dirt road had two sets of tire tracks on it…this dirt road had none.

There were a couple of times I started to panic, but overall, I couldn’t care less if I met my *** out there. But I knew it was too warm for me to *** overnight. The temps would dip below freezing, but that won’t **** you. The sun was setting, I had no cell service…and truthfully, I hadn’t even planned on hiking. I had no pack, no food, NO WATER. I felt like a dumb ass for doing that, but I also didn’t really care. I had (and still have) huge blisters on both feet. Converse aren’t the best hiking shoes.

I started to panic again when I reached multiple intersections of dirt roads. I couldn’t tell which dirt road was the original one I had come in on. None of them had the tire tracks I was looking for. So I kept heading down the road that wound around in the general direction of my car, according to the setting sun. Finally, I reached another intersection of dirt roads that had tire tracks. Thank God. Darkness met me, but God gave me a full moon. 😏 I made it back to my car and even made the 3 hour drive home. I thanked God as I was able to sleep in my own bed last night. I came so close to hunkering down for the night out there. I’d even found multiple rock outcroppings I could use as a shelter from the cold winds. But God brought me home. My bed never felt so good.

Surprisingly, as tired and sore as I was, I did not sleep well at all- even with sleeping pills. Something is wrong. I don’t know what.

This morning, before I even got out of bed, I was crying- weeping, really. Just sadness and death. It makes me cry. I almost didn’t go to church. But I did. Church was ok. I didn’t cry there- but I had a helluva time listening and concentrating. At this point, I don’t even recall what was talked about. I talked to God so much yesterday. I found multiple crosses in nature before I got lost.

I found these sticks like that. I didn’t set it up and I don’t think anyone else did either. I was so far away from civilization.

This rock caught my attention from far away.

I’m disturbed by the fact that I didn’t care if I got lost out there. It’s not surprising…so why is it disturbing me? I have no clue. I thought of my dog. I know he needs to be taken care of.

I think of the kids I’m working with. I strongly feel God has put them in my path. And yet I feel so useless. I give God my life…but it’s nothing. There’s nothing to give. It’s not like its a sacrifice- when you give someone junk, it’s not worth anything.

I feel like God won’t want it. I feel like he’s mad at me for pulling away from him. I feel like he’s mad because I don’t trust him.

I absolutely despise where I am in life. I hate this. Fear and anxiety and loneliness dominates. I’ve lost so many friends. I feel so alone. I want people to love me, but what can they do anyway? No one can fix this mess. So maybe it doesn’t matter.

Published March 3, 2018 by Chloe Madison

Oph. I had a messed up and very long dream/ nightmare last night. Not all of it was bad. I can’t get into every detail because it was so long that it would take me forever. One part had my youth pastor from when I was a teenager in it. So here’s the thing- no matter who I say is in the dream, I didn’t interact with them and they didn’t interact with me. The most pervasive feeling throughout the whole dream was loneliness. I was there and others were there…and we were far away from each other…it’s like everyone was physically scattered. There was only one part where people were grouped together and I went in and out of the group (it was at a ballet studio in a locker room) But no one talked to me and I left right away. I felt scared of being shot in the long, deserted hallways of the ballet studio. I’d peep around the corner and down the hall before I entered it. Then I’d run down the hall so I wouldn’t get shot (even though I never saw a shooter).

There was another part where we were hunkering down for a storm- a hurricane, I think. And one of my friends in the dream (who is someone I don’t know in real life) planned to swim to and stay on an island for the hurricane. This is the only time I spoke to someone and I convinced this guy to not stay alone on his island during the storm. I had him come stay in a room in my house.

After the storm, the scenery completely changed and I was in a forest with long rows of tall, giant trees like sequoias or something. This is where I found out that people died. I think it was like Annette in the dream- I never saw her, but the person I was mourning was exactly like her being and our relationship. And then later in the dream, her spouse died too. And he died not being a Christian and this really bothered me. I felt I should have done more to show God to him, but I also felt I couldn’t force him to believe something when he didn’t want to.

Multiple deaths occurred. Then, my youth pastor came back again and this part of the dream sticks out to me in a very sad way. We were in a huge room- almost like an empty theater. We were grieving the death of a different person. We were watching snippets of their life up on this big screen…but he and I were the only ones in the theater. And we were far away from each other. I remember looking over to him constantly and worrying about him. He wasn’t taking this well and he was slumped over in the chair. At one point I thought he died too, but then I saw his belly move up and down as he breathed. This haunts me so much. I was so concerned about him and yet I felt so distant from him- just like with everyone else in the dream.

In another part of the dream, I was driving a school bus backwards. I know, bizarre. I crashed it into a tree and there was only one kid in the bus with me and he was ok. I remember pulling us out of the crashed bus and seeing it smashed into the tree. We were in a neighborhood with a lot of houses, but the streets were deserted. There was no one around to help.

Then in the foresty place with the wide rows of large trees, my friend was there- scrunched down and digging holes with her hands. That was bizarre too. I remember knowing this is how she was grieving her special person who died. (In real life, her brother died in an accident from a drunk driver.)

I hated this dream. There’s so much more to it. But I hated all the constant feelings of aloneness and grief. I’ve never had a dream that was so filled with emotions…and every different scene in the dream, no matter what was going on or who was there- it was all negative emotions.

The ballet studio- alone and fearing I’d be shot

The forest- alone and not able to help my friend

The storm- riding it out alone even though I was housing another person.

The bus crash- alone

God, I hated this dream. I woke up feeling so weird and I still do.

I hate where I’m at in life. I wonder if I’ll ever get better. I have had some good days sprinkled throughout these last two months, and I get a little excited thinking I could be getting better because I feel normal for a half day or so. Then, I become overwhelmed with sadness and despair. I absolutely can’t control it no matter how hard I try.

There was a knock on my door yesterday and I instantly freaked thinking it was the police. I was terrified and quickly went back and forth about even looking out the peephole to see who it was or just hiding in my room or jumping off the balcony to escape. My heart raced and I felt nauseous- all in the span of the 60 seconds it took me to get to the door. It was Girl Scouts. Selling cookies. Good grief….I have issues.

I’m praying for another good day at church. I want to be normal- I really do. I miss it. And I hate how I am now. But I feel so powerless to change it. I think how I am drives people away and that makes me feel worse. But I’m powerless. I’m taking meds and I’m going to therapy and the last EMDR session was utterly excruciating. Several times, my therapist suggested we stop and I told her we should keep doing because I needed to do it. I don’t know what more I can do.

Published March 2, 2018 by Chloe Madison

EMDR session #666

I haven’t done EMDR in so long that I forgot how much it disorients me. I almost got into multiple car accidents trying to drive home. I was so out of it- it was unreal. I found myself swerving into other lanes and not being aware of it.

This writing will probably be a mess and I don’t care. I just don’t have the energy to make it all flow well. I just want to get it out.

I’ve been having multiple nightmares about being hospitalized that I haven’t had the energy to write about yet. I told my therapist though and she suggested we do EMDR for that. I had to identify my most overwhelming negative emotion. Shame, of course.

Shame- and with that, feeling unloved, not worthy of being loved, not cared for or worthy of it, alone, hated. The opposite of shame is being honorable. I broke into tears because she asked me to see myself as honorable- and I can’t even picture myself as honorable. It’s not possible. I wept constantly through this whole thing. She asked where I felt this- and I feel it in my chest- it’s super heavy and achy and it hurts. It’s literally painful.

The first thing I envisioned was being locked up. At first, I was just looking around, taking in my surroundings – essentially through memories of the experience. I was in disbelief that it was all even happening, I felt locked in- no way out, I was feeling threatened from my crazy roommate. We had 3 roommates (4 people to a room), but I was terrified of one because I actually thought she could and would hurt me.

The next part, I was looking out the window at the snow- trying to see how I could get out, trying to calm myself with snow and watching the storm roll in. All of this happens in fast forward motion. From the window, it went to me seeing the docs and putting up a facade to convince them I was ok. Then, I went to walking in circles in there because there was no where to go. I remembered talking to my friend on the phone and I remember how it calmed me. I also looked out window at the homeless people and was jealous of how they’re free.

The next thing is a red balloon- like a hot air balloon- comes over to the 7th floor where I am and I can escape. I jump in to rise up and get away. They’re chasing from down on the street level, so I don’t know where to land the balloon. In Colorado? No- not safe. In Wyoming? Not far enough away. I’m speeding away in the balloon in fast forward motion- In the middle of Oregon? No, I don’t know this place- keep going. I wind up on Cannon Beach, where I’ve been before and a place I want to return to. The skies bare dark, like it’s stormy and dusk. I’m on the dark sand for just a second watching the skies and waves and I turn and my friend who called 911 is directly behind me. I feel like I’ve been caught and I panic inside. He’s going to turn me in and send me back to the hospital- so I’m not safe. So I make him disappear immediately and make him dissolve into the sand. I realize if he can find me, I’m not safe- I haven’t gone far enough away so I get back in ballon, and go over ocean- but as I go and go, there’s no where to land. So I go to Alaska. Is that far enough away?? I see memories again. I see moose and bears and a swift running creek with freezing water. I examine the creek rocks, huge and rounded by the rushing of the water. I see the cabin on my vision board- with a deck and Albe my dog laying on it, sunning himself. (I had a vision board where I sketched one of my goals or dreams in life. I drew a simple cabin on land in Alaska with a large wooden deck where I lounged in lounge chairs with my then-fiancée and with my dog, Albe.)

At this point, multiple things happen- first, I hear it said that this dream will never come true. Albe is dead. As much as that kills me. He was by my side for nearly 17 years. So that vision will never happen. Something says don’t you trust God to make your dreams come true? I look up and I see God – as the sun, up in the sky and peeking out over the mountains. But I also know this dream won’t happen- I’m alone. I never envisioned this alone. I envisioned this with my ex fiancée and Albe. Both are gone.

I look to God and try to concentrate on the positive. I feel the warmth of God- as he’s the sun. I’m soaking up his warmth. I feel my face even becoming sunburned. But while I feel the warmth- I still feel the deep hurting hole of shame in my chest.

I feel isolated and full of shame. I’m laying on the lounge chair alone- no dog and no spouse- and a black hole develops in my chest, quickly expands both outward and downward and drops out of my body, stretching down into the earth.

It slowly begins to fill with blue water- but like an underground water table- the levels slowly rise, then fall, then rise again. This takes time and for some reason, I’m confused and scared as this happens. (I think this is God healing me)

As water is filling deep down in the hole- whiteness (like snow) begins to expand and cover the ground. It spreads across the entire ground so all I can see is whiteness. It envelops me and even covers God in the sky and wraps around me. It’s like a loose soft toilet paper, wrapping itself around me in fast forward motion and I’m spinning as it does. My face is covered even. I’m standing now.

I try to remain positive so I look up to where God is to try to keep my mind on him. I face him through the toilet paper. I feel water on my toes and am surprised at how quick the healing water that was deep down in the hole in the earth actually reached my body. But it makes me panic again. I look down, thinking for a second that I could drown. I look back to God, knowing this is his water and it’s good. Then the black hole develops in my chest again. It shoots out of my back and dips down into the earth in a sharp deep point. Something tells me something like- “See?? You can’t get better! You won’t ever heal!” You’re covered with God and yet your black hole of shame will ALWAYS be here.

I can’t remember quite how it ended. It’s like I was a tiny bit close to getting healed and then the blackness enveloped me again. Like it’s something I can never escape. I’m the very end, my therapist was telling me her thoughts- and I’m sorry to say that I don’t know what she said. I saw 666 when she was talking. I know that sounds ridiculous- cheesy, even. But I couldn’t see or hear anything but that for a minute or two.

When I was driving erratically home, I found myself behind a truck who’s license plate started with 666. Not even joking. Super odd.

So that was EMDR. Then last night- it was emotional. I watched the show “Hollywood Medium” and it made me think of my dad and how I always wanted and still want an apology from him. I want him to admit wrong doing or show remorse in the very least. I’ll never get that- but I do sometimes daydream of a medium giving me that message.

I watched the one with Kristin Cavallari and how she wanted her brother who died to come through. I remember following that closely in the news because he died in a way that’s very close to one of the ways I envision it. He died in the desert in Utah. He went missing for several weeks and all they knew is he had been driving through Utah. They had alluded to possible mental illness, but no one (publicly anyway) knew for sure. After a few weeks, he was found dead. He had an accident and was found off in a ditch where we wandered. What his family never knew- was if it was purely accidental or suicide? The medium said that he felt the presence of a mental illness that went back and forth (the family confirmed he was bipolar). Then he said he felt the influence of drugs and alcohol and how that made things worse- almost impossible for healing. Then, he medium said it was an accident, he felt like he was wandering and had planned to find a nearby river and follow it to civilization. But he hit his head and never made it. The family confirmed there was a river near where he crashed and they were relieved (and heart-broken) to heat he had actually tried to survive. All this made me envision all the past plans for the desert- being out there alone, dying, no one ever finding you. It just weighed heavily on me. I watched that episode twice in a row last night.

And I don’t even remember why I started talking about it. Anyway. I’m so exhausted. My head hurts and it feels like I’m in a cloud. I want to go to sleep.

Published February 28, 2018 by Chloe Madison

I read something today that struck me:

“Most human decisions are made emotionally. Only 3% of emotional cognition is available consciously.”

I remember someone calling me out on making an emotional, yet grave decision. I also remember being confused, thinking that I had logically thought out each and every avenue. This quote brought me back to that. The same issue had been on my mind. I don’t wonder if I’ll ever recover. I know I won’t. I know I won’t lead a normal life. I know I’m too f***ed up for people to love me. Everyone leaves.

I don’t remember what made me think back today to this last Christmas. But I was remembering how I did every thing in my power to try to make myself happy. I decorated my apartment like there was no tomorrow. I used to LOVE Christmas. It has always been my favorite. But it’s lost its magic. No matter how many strands of lights I put up…

I was still there alone in the quiet.

It doesn’t matter that I got a real tree so I could enjoy the smell of freshly cut pine….

I was still alone with my tree.

That was the last time I saw my roommate. She darted in, wouldn’t make eye contact with me, ignored the tree, said nothing about the plethora of Christmas lights, and tried to dart out without even addressing me. I knew she had been told about my nice little hospital stay. I knew she was shunning me- and has continued to do so- because of it. I feel so…




Left out


Cast away.


So tonight I was thinking about my old friend, ******* again. And I was thinking how logical it is to me- even though no one else understands. And I thought how I wasn’t being emotional- that this wasn’t an irrational decision.

Ugh. I don’t know. I feel beat down, barraged even… For a second this evening I saw an upside down cross in the way some lights played against the outside of a building. The street lights have stopped going off when I walk under them. Now they turn on. That has to be better. It doesn’t scare me. It just makes me feel like it’s already done. Like the battle has already been won, like there’s no use in fighting. I feel so run down anyway- I don’t feel like fighting anything at all, much less something more powerful.

I’m not giving in. Im just thinking.

I hate that people judge me and stay away from me. I hate that my life is so alone. It’s been 9 years. NINE YEARS. I know many victims of sexual abuse wind up being promiscuous or use sex because they were used for it. For some reason, I went the opposite direction. I’m glad I did. I’d feel a lot shittier about myself if I was promiscuous. But I’m the most closed off person ever when it comes to that. I’ve lost loves over it. My ex-fiancée left me and cheated on me because I didn’t want to have sex until after marriage. He didn’t respect that and he didn’t respect me. He pressured me and mocked me and compared me to all his other girlfriends. That’s BS. I should have left him right then and there. I know I’m lucky that I’m not with him. But I am still alone. STILL. I don’t know when it will end. I don’t think a guy would respect me enough to wait until after marriage. I can blame the culture of our day, but aren’t there Christian guys out there with any ounce of respect any more?? I think it’s like believing in a magic unicorn or something- it just doesn’t exist.

That’s why I feel like it’s foolish to wish for it, wait for it, pray for it. It doesn’t exist. People just aren’t good anymore. Maybe back in the day they were- not any more.

The ONLY living thing I connect with is my dog. And he’s a precious, special one at that. I thank God all the time for him. He means so much to me.

I don’t know where I’ll be living in 4 months. I hate that feeling of uncertainty and having your life up in the air. I’m sick of it actually. It’s been 5+ years of moving and moving and not belonging anywhere. It’s been 9 years of being alone. It’s been a lifetime of not trusting my own family members.

Today I watched a portion of Dr. Phil. It sucked. HARD. There was a girl who had been sexually abused by her dad. She made games out of it- just like I did with my neighbor when I was 9. Her dad had the audacity to blame HER, saying she was not only a willing participant, but tempted him and lured him. Omg, I was torn between throwing up and punching my TV screen. He’s sick. I’m stunned that all these years later, he’s trying to blame her. Unbelievable. I had to turn it off. It literally made me ill.

All these things running through my head…..


Published February 25, 2018 by Chloe Madison

Is there such a thing as spiritual exhaustion? I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling.

I spent Fri night and all day Sat in a sleeping pill-induced stupor. At least it was slow moving and restful. Today I went to church and for the first time in over a year, I was actually normal. It was so odd! I was ok…I wasn’t scared and intimidated, nor doubting everyone and everything that was said. I was even able to sing from my heart. It felt great. I knew I was a mess, but for a short period of time, I also knew God was good. Until my worship pastor said something about God being a good father…I flinched and immediately felt guilty about my doubt….but what can I do? I sang that song though. And I meant it. I was able to pay attention to my pastor as he preached. Dang, is he talented at what he does. The sermon was very applicable. It was about how we can be so independent that we don’t need help- God’s help. How sometimes our independence gets in the way of us admitting our brokenness and our need for God. He mentioned how we were “designed” to need God. That can explain a lot in our lives. And I was fine for most of the sermon. Then, suddenly and out of nowhere, I started crying again. I can’t even say why. I was just suddenly overwhelmed with an overbearing sadness. It lasted maybe 10-15 minutes and then it left. And I felt normal again and was even able to pay attention again. I don’t know what that was. But today in church was one of the better Sundays I’ve experienced.

I have so much weighing on me. I have no clue where I’ll be living in 4 months. I have stupid hospital bills still to pay. Oh…that reminds me of a very…I don’t know how to explain it…sharp, stabbing (?) truth that my pastor spoke about today. Shame. I hate that word, but it’s been my life for over a year now. I felt it’s weight and all that comes with it from who my father is and the terrible things my family did to cover it up. For months, I tried with my therapist to convince myself that the shame I felt belonged to my father, not me. That it belonged to my family who wronged me, not me. And then came the hospitalization. And I had no idea how devastating and shattering that shame could be. I never thought of it before because I never imagined it would happen. But now I have my own shame to carry in that. It’s mine, not my dad’s nor my family’s. I was the one hospitalized, not them. I’m the one who carries the stigma, no one else. My pastor said that shame is the most devastating of human emotions. I would agree. It makes me feel like I can’t recover. It makes me feel like I’m not good enough and never will be. It makes me understand why people don’t love me and care for me. It makes me understand why my own parents and grandparents didn’t.

I’ve been struggling to breathe under this new shame. Only one person told me that being hospitalized doesn’t define me. I find that so, so hard to believe. I’m trying to cling to that, thinking that I can move on. But, I think I’m only fooling myself. It’s not like I can forget being hospitalized and what it’s done to me. It has literally damaged my psyche. And I’m afraid that’s permanent.

I was afraid the damage done from my perpetrators was permanent. I know God is able to heal. I just don’t understand why he doesn’t. Why does he let people die? Why does he let people suffer? Why doesn’t he heal everyone and show us his love and compassion in that way? Why is it rare that God will do this? I don’t know. And that’s part of why I think praying is useless. God will do what he wants to do. It’s not like you’re going to change his mind! But even with that, and I feel terribly guilty about doubting God’s goodness, I’ve been praying a little lately. I’ve asked God to help me find a safe place to live. I’ve been asking him to take care of my 911 friend and his family. I’ve been asking God to heal my Madagascar friend’s marriage. (They’re good, they just need a little repairing and they’re working on it.) That brings me to another topic. My isolation and lack of connection to people. My Madagascar friend has been writing a little bit every few days to me. He’s shared that he’s in counseling with his wife and he’s shared some of his own weaknesses and struggles. I am so grateful for that. Him being open with me makes me feel connected. It’s given me something (besides myself) to bring before God. I’m so grateful that our friendship is slowly blooming again. I don’t think I’ve seen this guy in 16 years… we went to Madagascar in 2000, I think and we saw each other maybe a year or so after that. I’m grateful that he hasn’t thrown me away as a friend because I was hospitalized. I’m grateful that he still trusts me. He trusts me enough to share his struggles with and not only is that opening a two way street, but like I said, it makes me feel connected to another human being. I can’t believe how much I lack that. It’s unreal.

Published February 22, 2018 by Chloe Madison

I had a horrible nightmare last night. I think I triggered it myself with my previous blog. In my dream, I was hospitalized again and it was absolutely terrible. It was (and still is-my heart is racing as I’m writing this) the feelings that came along in the dream that were the worst.

The only good thing was that my former pastor, Mike, was there. He made a brief appearance and in my dream, he worked in the hospital. He wasn’t much encouragement though. I was asking him if I’d be out in 3 days and he told me that the assessment takes 3 days and THEN your time starts! I was mortified. Obviously, this ties back into the fact that I was hospitalized for way more than the minimum 3 days last time. I also remember being enraged and feeling everything was unfair when I found out that in real life, you don’t even need to stay the minimum of 3 days. They can let you out earlier than that. I was told that the hospital I was at was known for NOT letting people out because it affected them getting paid. I was told that if they didn’t keep people for over the minimum, then they got paid nothing by insurance companies. I find this hard to believe, but it makes sense in that they kept me there despite my protests to leave. F**k that place. I’m so pissed off that I’m still paying them…and the fact that I HAVE to pay them even though I refused to go there!!!

Anyway, the other goofy thing in my dream was that we did ballet. I have to admit that was humorous to me when I woke up. And one bad thing was that some of the same people were there who were there in real life. Someone asked me how the girl was who committed suicide. They didn’t know because they had been locked up and had no contact. I had to break the news that she was now deceased. That was terrible.

Even though my 911 friend doesn’t read here anymore, clearly I’m still feeling a ton of fear related to what I say here. So let me make things clear so I can feel some relief. I HAVE NO BAD PLANS. Am I depressed? Absolutely. Do I think about it? Yes. Do I have plans? No! Absolutely not. There is no need to worry. How about you love on me and not lock me up? Huh? How about that? Why give me fear and nightmares instead of showing me love and compassion? That’s what I need. That’s what any victim needs. No one needs to be fucking locked up against their will. That fucks you up beyond belief.

I’m fine. Am I back and forth in my thoughts? Yes. But I am the farthest I’ve been from doing something in over a year. Over a year! My thoughts really are steering away from that. Maybe that’s not apparent in my writing because I write when I’m most depressed. And yes, I’m most certainly depressed and alone and struggling. No doubt. But I can promise everyone who reads here that I won’t do a thing. Honest…I promise. I have had urges to cut- but that’s it. Nothing beyond that.

I still feel that no matter what I say here, I can still get taken away against my will. I have so much terror from that- I’m not sure I can ever get beyond it. I do know that I have no idea where I will move to when my lease is up, but wherever I go- not a soul will know my new address. I won’t even forward mail. Fuck that. If that’s what I have to do to make myself feel safe again, then I’ll do it.

I doubt I’ll feel safe again though. That fear is always there. Every cop I see, my heart stops. Every time I see flashing lights or hear a siren, my heart stops. And I live across the street from a fire station. This happens all day and all night. I told myself I’d get used to it. Well…it’s been 4 months and my stomach shoots straight up into my throat every time I hear those sirens.

I don’t want to have to live with this fear. This fear that causes nightmares because I wrote a blog and mentioned my thoughts. That’s not right. I had enough fear I was dealing with before. Now, it overrides and overwhelms my life. I used to feel part of the blue brotherhood. Not any more. I’m scared of them now. I stay away. I don’t belong anymore. I wish I could hang with everyone and reminisce about Zack. But I can’t. I don’t belong anymore. And with feeling so isolated and alone before my hospitalization, I surely didn’t need something else to make me feel even more fear and more isolation. Fuck that.