All posts tagged anger

Published March 23, 2018 by Chloe Madison

I have actually slept super well for the last 3 nights in a row! I’ve slept long and deeply. I woke up only about 4 times each night- that’s a world record for this past year and a half.

I am so grateful. I’m still so, so exhausted that I came home from work yesterday and crashed- took a nap and then still slept through the night. I’ve only got a year and a half of sleep to catch up on. 🙂

Lots of dreaming, but very few nightmares. So that’s good. My therapist and I decided not to do EMDR again because she thinks I’m still processing with all the nightmares I previously had. Next week is spring break- so maybe the idea of vacation time is helping me to relax as well. (?) I don’t know.

My therapist said she thought I was doing too much to keep my mind occupied. The studying, the chase, and the hiking every weekend…she thought maybe I’m not giving my brain enough down time to process and that’s why I was still processing things through nightmares.

We talked a lot about my friend who relapsed. She thinks I have issues of my own that came up when things with him started happening. I guess him being mean or rude to his wife brought up my past with my ex who was pretty abusive psychologically, emotionally, and verbally. Only rarely did it turn into physical abuse. Catching him cheat on me was just the cherry on top. I do still have a lot of hurt and anger from that. I know that every time my ex was enraged with me, it was never my fault and it was never justified. I guess that’s why my friend being mean to his wife is ruffling my feathers so much now. I love the guy and care deeply for both him and his wife…but I cannot, cannot, absolutely canNOT handle a man mistreating a woman. I just can’t do it anymore. I’ve seen it my whole life and I hate it. I’m sick to my stomach about him doing it- I guess because I’d looked at him as a good, Christian guy. I’m not saying he isn’t. But it’s just a huge let down. He and his wife took good care of my little dog for me when I was in the hospital. I’m so appreciative of that and grateful for them welcoming me with open arms and zero judgment. I need to extend the same to him.

I have a friend coming in town to visit tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it, but I’m super scared. Either I hide who I am and all the terrible things I’m dealing with- or I’m open and honest. Obviously, he could reject me as crazy or needy or any number of things I’m scared people will judge me as. I have quite a bit of hesitation with seeing him- but at the same time, he’ll occupy about a third of my spring break- so that’s great. I don’t think I need to be alone. That’s never good. Not recently, anyway.

And the sanctuary, the shelter that I’ve been envisioning…I’d love to be able to open a Christian camp in the remote mountains. I was thinking part of it could be a place that church groups could go to for retreats- youth groups or men’s or women’s groups. The other part of it though- that’s what I’m focusing in on- the other part would be a safe haven for victims of human trafficking and/ or sex trafficking. It would be a safe place that’s remote so they have no fear of anyone they escaped from finding them and where they’d feel confident walking around outside, enjoying nature. I envision having group meetings and even counseling/ therapy for them. Maybe have a full-time therapist on staff? That would be awesome. I’d like to give a beautiful, safe place to people who need it- who need some where to go for months or even a year- to recover, to learn to live again, to learn to feel safe again. I was thinking of offering training in some kind of trade as well- so they could sustain themselves and make a living on their own.

I don’t know- it’s just a dream. I keep envisioning it in this peaceful river valley that I’ve been driving through these last few weekends.

So…there’s that.

Please pray for my friend and his wife.

Published March 18, 2018 by Chloe Madison

Oph. Nightmares have been unreal. And unrelenting. Last night I had several. The most notable was when a friend killed me. The killer’s face in my dream actually kept switching back and forth between two different people, both friends of mine. At one point, my friend/ the killer was threatening my life. I retorted with the fact that he should go ahead- he’d be doing me a favor. Smh.

I’m not quite sure why the last 2 days have been so difficult. My sleep has been so interrupted and when I do sleep, it’s nothing but nightmares. I’ve been overly emotional these last few days as well. When I was hiking this weekend, I kept breaking down crying. Hiking and crying doesn’t mix. I’m not gonna lie. I thought of ***** and ***** quite a bit out there.

These last two weeks have actually been GOOD. I was beginning to get hopeful that I was on my way out of this dark mire. But now I’m not so sure. I keep wanting to stay away from people and keep them away from me. I just want to be left alone and yet I absolutely despise it. I actually hate, hate, hate being alone. It’s just a safe place to recoil to.

Up on the mountain, I was begging God to be with me. He wasn’t. I asked out loud over and over throughout the hours, “God, are you there?” I tried to humor myself by replying to my own question with a sound effect of lightning striking. I thought I was funny. But that didn’t change the fact that I was alone up there.

I don’t know why I cried so much. Both today- during church again- and all day yesterday.

The only thing I can think of is that I’m wrestling with how I view people- and men, in particular.

I know my abusers have been men. Throughout my life, I tried to be normal and be in relationships, but my two most serious relationships ended because I was being cheated on. So I haven’t had the best men in my life- obviously including my own father. And I even think of my grandfather who was a verbally abusive a-hole.

I’ve tried to counteract this and combat it by looking to good men in my life. I think of a teacher I had in high school who I fantasized would marry my mom and be my dad. He was gay and and I chuckle, knowing even back then that my little fantasy would never happen. But I wonder if him being gay is what made him feel so safe. He would never hurt me. Beyond that, he was a gentle, sweet old man. And I love that about him. I was crushed when I ran into him a decade later and he didn’t remember me.

I fondly remember my youth pastors and how awesome they were. They were great examples of Christian men and they were fun and loving and just plain awesome. Then, after my teenage years, I ran into a void of good men. I stopped going to church and didn’t exactly surround myself with the best people. I was involved in the music/ rock scene and saw every single guy use women nonstop for sex. It was unreal. There was even one band I know who have special backstage passes made for girls called “Chicken Head” passes. It’s a lewd reference to girls giving oral sex. I mean, how much more degrading can you get?! And I’d see guys laugh about that.

Then, I started coming back to church. And I came into contact with my former pastor. He’s an amazing man. I love the guy to pieces. He told me he thinks of me as one of his daughters and I loved that. I miss him a lot. He’s the one who said my dad was a monster. But he was a pillar of strength to me and a source of encouragement through long, daily emails for years and years. Both he and his wife are phenomenal people.

And then I moved out of state. It took me several years to find a good church. And almost immediately, I found a guy at that church who was a great, trustworthy person. He’s my 911 friend. I love how he interacts with people and how he cares for and loves his wife and family- and everyone else, for that matter. He’s the most recent person I’ve tried to use as someone to look to as a good example of what a good, Christian man should be like.

My 911 friend kept pushing me to stay with another couple. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I didn’t trust the guy. There were stories of him being violent towards his wife when he used to use drugs and I could never fully let that go. It’s disturbing and highly alarming to me if any person has the potential to hurt another when not in self defense. That’s not ok. It never will be. I kept trying to tell myself that this guy is no longer a drug user, that it’s in his past, it’s not who he is anymore. But I still felt threatened. And now, in the last two weeks, I’ve seen him relapse. It’s not his relapse that’s so disturbing. It’s his mistreatment of his wife while he was actually sober. He treated her like dirt and continues to- even when he’s not high. THAT is what I’m struggling with. Of course, I’m worried for his relapse and don’t want him going down that road. But I can’t believe- I’m actually shocked- that his verbal, emotional, and psychological abuse of his wife is coming when he’s sober. I don’t know what to make of that. Part of me feels justified in how I never fully trusted him and this IS EXACTLY why. But part of me feels guilty…that I should be forgiving. He’s not remorseful though. He doesn’t see anything wrong with how he mistreats and “punishes” his wife. And that makes me question why she stays with him. If it were me, I’d dip out in a second. But hey, maybe that’s why I’m not in a relationship. I absolutely cannot handle a man being cruel or abusive in any way, shape, or form. I just can’t do it.

And we…women…shouldn’t have to! Why do women put up with this? Because they love the guy? Because they’re stuck in a marriage and they don’t want to dishonor God by divorcing? Smh. This pisses me off.

And frankly, seeing all this unravel with this guy and his wife has made me lose HUGE amounts of hope in humanity and in men, in general.

And I think that’s part of what’s bothering me so much. It was him in my dream who was killing me. Him and someone else.

And then I have compassion. And I see his demons and how they’re fighting to take over his life. And I know we have the same demons. We’ve both been sexually abused, among other things. I see him relapse and I see that there’s no way out for people like us. There’s no hope for us. We claw and crawl our way up out of the pit, only to be drug right back down again in an instant. This is weighing so heavily on me. We are not in control. Satan is. You can’t fight that. There’s no winning. If God wanted us to get away, he would have done that already. But he hasn’t.

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.

Published February 11, 2018 by Chloe Madison

There is so much wrong with me- physically, emotionally, psychologically. I am so confused. I feel like I don’t know what’s going on around me. I don’t know how I function at work. As a matter of fact, I’ve been terribly ineffective and unproductive at work. I’d like to blame depression and being preoccupied with suicide, but it’s my fault no matter which way you look at it.

Today’s sermon was so full of stuff. I cried during it. A few times. I zoned out a few times, but I think I heard most of it- which is a miracle. I feel like most everything said was specifically for me. One of the things my pastor talked about was persistence vs. perfection. How we need to press on in spite of everything. I’m so horrible at that. It’s part of why I feel God has given up on me. Because I gave up on me. I’m not persisting anymore in anything, including my faith. I also feel so strongly that God is disappointed in me because I’m not good enough. I know I carry that from my own parents. I constantly tried so hard over and over to win the affection of my parents with good grades. Even as an adult, when I won 3 awards in police academy, I gave them to my mom and told her I did it for her. I just wanted her approval. She gave the awards back to me. She didn’t want them. That was 4 years ago. I know God is disappointed in me because I’ve been so terrible lately. I’ve been so self-centered, angry, pissy, impatient…and I’ve wanted to give up the life He has given me. I’ve wanted to quit and run away from it all. There’s no way God is pleased with that. I think that’s why He’s not pursuing me anymore. That was part of this morning’s sermon too. But that’s definitely something I have not felt from God in months. I can even draw the line- my hospitalization or right before it. That’s when I last felt loved and pursued by God. Could it be that once I was hospitalized that He no longer wants anything to do with me either?? It honestly wouldn’t surprise me. I feel branded- like a homeless person- the stigma of having been hospitalized bleeds through to every aspect of my life. So many people have rejected me because of that. I fear so many more will do so if they ever find out.

This is a song we sang in church today. Ok, everyone else sang. I listened and felt. I like this song a lot. It speaks volumes to me. But it’s not entirely true. God, I wish it was. The idea of God chasing us down- every word of the bridge to this song…I wish it were true. But God has given up on me. Everyone has. Including myself. I don’t blame anyone. How can I? I’ve given up too. Hell, I was the first one to give up. I’m so thankful for those in the very near past who helped me feel God’s love. But it’s not there anymore.

Verse 1

Before I spoke a word, You were singing over me

You have been so, so good to me

Before I took a breath, You breathed Your life in me

You have been so, so kind to me


Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God

Oh, it chases me down, fights ‘til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine

I couldn’t earn it, I don’t deserve it, still You give Yourself away

Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God

Verse 2

When I was Your foe, still Your love fought for me

You have been so, so good to me

When I felt no worth, You paid it all for me

You have been so, so kind to me


There’s no shadow You won’t light up

Mountain You won’t climb up

Coming after me

There’s no wall You won’t kick down

Lie You won’t tear down

Coming after me

Will God chase after me? Not anymore. He’s done with me.

I’ve had such messed up dreams lately. I spent the entire weekend in a sleepy fog. I took a bunch of different kinds of sleeping pills. Some make you fall asleep, others keep you asleep. I need those last ones so badly, but I don’t dare take them during the week. I’d never wake up on time and I can’t afford to jeopardize my job by being late. I love taking those on the weekends though. It makes the weekends entirely unproductive, but it helps to pass the time without me doing something even more reckless or destructive.

Most of my dreams are of finding murdered bodies and then being wary of everyone else in the dream, not knowing if they’re the killer or not. That makes sense as I don’t trust anyone. I had one semi-normal dream- the first time I ever dreamed of my 911 friend. He was doing a sermon in my church, but in weird dream-like fashion, it was bizarre. It was more like game time for youth group kids or something. We didn’t talk in my dream…I just sank down in my seat and hid among the crowd, just like I do in church. After that, he disappeared and church did too and everything turned into a weird classroom where I was one of very few students in a large, empty room that didn’t seem to have a ceiling. We kept moving our desks out of the sunlight coming in through the giant windows because it was blinding. Then, everything turned into a dark, nighttime environment- almost like a post-apocalyptic scene. In that scene, I was searching for treasure under a rotten, old trailer. Then, there was the part of the dream where I was explaining spectroscopy to someone and it’s uses in astronomy and the study of the composition of distant objects in space. I woke up missing studying astronomy. 😂 It’s absolutely fascinating. Anyway, I slept and dreamed away the entire weekend. Mission accomplished.

I was so, so angry on Friday. One of the young people I work with shared her story of being sexually abused with others. I’ve mentioned her before and she had privately shared her story with me, but she went into greater detail this time. I think I couldn’t handle it and maybe that’s why I was in such a foul mood that day. God, I could easily have ***** ****** that day. She had been molested from age 6-12. Age SIX THROUGH TWELVE. What in the actual ****?! Her uncle did it whenever he came over. She said every birthday, every Christmas, every holiday that her family would have him over- he molested her. She talked about the first time it happened in a shed outside their trailer. That’s why I hate sheds- those are some of the most heinous, evil places. I flashed back right then as she spoke. I swear, if I ever met her uncle face to face, I’d wind up in jail. I honestly don’t think I could control my rage against him. What kind of a “man” takes advantage of a little girl? What kind of person hurts those who can’t defend themselves?? It just brings such hate in my heart for people like that. I know God isn’t pleased with that, but this is where I’m at. I think of ways to deal with this- like clinging to the idea of the very few men I know who are good people… but I doubt even them sometimes. Even when I do have faith in them, it doesn’t seem like it’s enough. This is why I want to leave this God forsaken world…because God really has forsaken us.

Published February 9, 2018 by Chloe Madison

When the levee breaks…

For a second there, I thought I could be getting better. But today was horrible. I don’t even know why or what happened to make it so bad. I’m just so angry and irritable and pissy. Everything enraged me today. Everyone annoyed me. And I know it’s not anyone’s fault. I know it’s me who has the problem. I’m so stressed and I don’t even know why.

I think I’ll just be eternally f****d up. There’s nothing I can do to fix it.

I don’t see the point in anything. I don’t see the point of trying. Even what excited me yesterday is worth nothing and is pointless today. It’s all for nothing. Me trying to keep my brain occupied? Dumb idea. It made me happy and normal for a whole two days.

I’m such a sh*tty person. I’m terrible at my job. I don’t do anything right. I’ve had decades in this life to try to get things right. No wonder God’s not helping me anymore. He’s given up on me. I would too.

Kid fears taking over again. You’re unlovable. People only use you. Men use you for sex and then throw you away, demand sex again, throw you away, demand again, throw you away again. It happens over and over and over. Grown men do this to little girls. What the f**k kind of world do we live in?? I’m sick of this. It’s not right. It will NEVER be right. I was used for sex for years by my disgusting neighbor, Rene. He’s a horrible, perverted, selfish, sorry excuse for a human being. My dad…he’s been called a monster. What am I supposed to do with this? How can I reconcile grown men using little girls for sex? How can I .

I can’t stop crying.

I tried having faith in humanity, in people. I thought if I found some men who were actually good…some good, Christian men who weren’t bad people…I thought I could look at them and convince myself that not everyone is bad. Not everyone wants to use you. Not everyone will throw you away. But that’s a lie. Everyone DOES use you. Everyone DOES throw you away. There are no good people. I’m not even a good person. No one is. Humanity blows. God hates us. There’s no hope and no future. Hope is a bullshit lie that doesn’t exist. End of story.

Published February 9, 2018 by Chloe Madison

This week has been interesting so far. I’ve been doing unusually well and sleeping unusually less. Sunday night and last night were sleepless nights. Sunday was a pretty ok day though. Monday…well, that’s another story. On the good side, I was grateful to be able to rest some, but I had a borderline, semi-, almost crisis happening. Let’s suffice it to say that my living situation suddenly became precarious. That, in itself, is unsettling. I had quite a bit of support from my 911 friend and another friend that I texted. After two days, the situation was resolved. I just hope it doesn’t happen again. I can’t remember Tuesday. My mind is muddled about that. Wednesday was great. I have no idea why. I took it easy at work and made some decisions and took some steps after work that made me happy. I decided to go ahead and study a subject I used to be familiar with. It will be difficult to study it on my own, but I’m giddy as can be at the moment. We’ll see how long the novelty will last. The other decision I made was regarding ballet. I can’t afford to breathe right now, so I obviously can’t afford classes. I’m not sure I would have the energy for even 1 or 2 classes a week anyway. But what I decided I could do is stretch. I know that may sound silly, but I’ve been spending about an hour a night before bed just stretching. It hurts, but it’s relaxing. I can study, watch TV, play games…all while stretching. Truthfully, I know I’ll never be a ballet dancer, but this is what I want to be able to do some day:

And as much as I’d love to be able to be all girly and take ballet classes, that’s not feasible with my budget. But mindfully, pursuing some goals or interests is making me kind of happy. It’s giving me something to look forward to and a tiny zest for life. That’s a good thing.

Last night when I couldn’t sleep, I decided to thank God over and over and over again for what He’s given me and what He’s done for me. I thanked Him for recent financial help, for the support of my few friends, for my dog, for a place to live and a job where I hope I can make a difference. It seemed like I couldn’t thank Him enough.

I didn’t know what else to say to Him. I’ve prayed for a few friends. But I’ve stopped praying for myself. I feel like He won’t answer prayers concerning me. It just seems that God will do what He wants to do, what He already has planned to do, and no amount of prayer would change God’s mind. I’m not sure if I’m being clear about that. I feel uneasy praying. I feel like God wouldn’t answer prayer unless I’m in His good graces. I know that undermines the very meaning of mercy and grace. But I strongly feel that way. It’s kind of a new feeling…but I feel like I’ve disappointed God so much lately. I’ve been so, so self-absorbed in my depression. I got locked up, my life has fallen apart, I’ve chased away friends. Sometimes I don’t even think I’m a good dog mom. I think God is refusing to give me children and a family. <—-And that…I don’t know how to reconcile that with a loving God. So, I feel that God is mad at me.

Part of this is because I don’t know how to think of Him as a loving God because of all the terribly traumatic things that have happened…not only in this world to others, but to myself as well. I guess He might be angry at me for holding that against Him. I’m not sure. I honestly don’t know what to think and so I’m staying away.

I don’t know how church will go this Sunday. I hate going there and feeling so disconnected from everyone and feeling such anger surge up inexplicably inside.


Published January 30, 2018 by Chloe Madison

I cannot stand this feeling.

I can’t even articulate it. I feel so, so alone. I can’t get over how incredibly alone I am in this world. I think it would be easier if I was the only human on earth, instead of being surrounded by people.

My roommate went to our apartment when I was at work today and took a bunch of her stuff. I only saw her once since I was in the hospital. That time, she came by the apartment and tried to run out without speaking to me. I said hi to her and she said hi back…but she refused to even look me in the face. She literally darted out the door. I don’t know why I’m so bothered that she took some of her things today. It just feels more empty.

It’s a more physical reality of the fact that people are distancing themselves from me. She acts like I have the plague. Everyone who knows I was in the hospital acts like that. People have stayed away from me, have stopped talking to me….and people who I used to think cared, have made it clear they don’t even trust me anymore. I’m broken over that. So, so disturbed and hurt and broken over that. Just as I start to open up and share and trust another human being, they bolt and act like I’m diseased…like they’re not allowed to be in the same room with me. It makes me feel like shit.

I wish to God I could just disappear. Forever. For fucking ever.

I hate this. I hate myself. I hate that I can’t connect with people and when I do, it somehow backfires and they bail. I hate that I don’t trust people…and I hate that they don’t trust me. Don’t people know I wouldn’t hurt a soul? To feel unwanted and not trusted…ugh…it’s a horrible, horrible feeling.

I have no idea where I’ll be living come this summer. I’ll need to move again. I don’t know where to go. I’m thinking of putting my stuff in storage and going without a place for the summer- just to save money. I’m not praying much, but the very few things I’m asking God for includes a place to call home. Somewhere I can belong.

But I just don’t. I simply don’t belong anywhere or with anyone. I wish I had a family. A nice, loving family that talked and hugged each other all the time. Tears are streaming down my face and clouding my vision as I write this. I want to belong. I want a family. This, though….this will never happen.


That’s something I don’t have. You would think I do…after all that I’ve been through, I’m still walking upright. I was physically, psychologically, and very much emotionally abused by my mom. My father molested me when I was 11 or 12. My mom and grandma conspired to cover it up. When I was 9, I was raped so many times by a neighbor, that I don’t even know how many times…that included sodomy. That shame has never left me. My father died from cancer only about a year later…after I wished him dead. For half of my life, I thought it was my fault he died. I got pregnant at 18 and planned to marry my boyfriend. My mom wouldn’t allow it. She forced an abortion on us. I was raped again when I was 22. I got pregnant and out of fear of every possible scenario, I had another abortion, believing it was the best course of action. I still solemnly remember those would-be birthdays. I believe that’s why God won’t give me any more children. My house has been broken into, my car has been stolen. My uncle committed suicide over the fact that my dad sexually abused him and no one believed him. My father is a sexual predator/ molester/ whatever you want to call it. I’ve been mugged, pretty much every single crime you can think of has been perpetrated against me. Yet, I still stand. Wobbly and shaking and reaching out for something to hold on to for support…but I’m still upright.

But I’m no longer resilient. This has changed me. I’ve given up.

I used to be much happier. I saw a video of myself today from a while back and I couldn’t believe how funny, energetic, and happy I was. I didn’t even know the girl in the video. It was surreal to watch someone who looks so much like me be so completely different from who I am now. Is that what depression does to you? Is that what anxiety and PTSD does? Is that what happens when you’ve lost hope and people have dipped out of your life because they simply don’t care? Do you turn into this wasteland of a body with nothing but numbingly sharp emotions and tears and fears? Do you just have so much rage inside that you have to act- even if that means hurting yourself?