Christianity

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Published December 13, 2017 by Chloe Madison

Fuuuuu…. I am so infuriated and I don’t even know why. I just left my two doctor appointments. This last guy said I rated as severe for depression, but “moderately severe.” He even suggested I get into group counseling that could meet for up to 3 times a week, if I felt I needed that support. I don’t. I’m fine. I’m shocked that I rated so severely. Am I not seeing this? On top of that, all the questions I answered were for the last 2 weeks only!! And I’ve felt a tiny bit better these last few weeks- I mean, I actually had a good day here and there. So if I’m “moderately severe” now, what the hell was I before? Severely severe?

That depresses me so much. It makes me mad. Why though? This is probably the first time since I’ve been out that I actually wanted to hurt myself. I just feel so much rage and strong….gah….I don’t even know!

Speaking of hurting myself, with talking with this guy and why/ how I got hospitalized…I WILL NEVER, EVER say on this blog that I want to die or kill myself ever again. It’s not worth getting locked up for. Just because I don’t say it, doesn’t mean I’m not thinking it. But I refuse to go through that again. I don’t have the freedom to say what I want…but hey, welcome to America. Land of the free. Unless you’ve been raped. Then you’re not free. You’re not free to express yourself. You’re not free of your fears. You’re not free of anything this shitty life has in store for you.

I can’t believe I’m worse off than I think. I just don’t believe that. Am I that blind?

The med management doctor is increasing my dosage. Doubling it. Not because of me though…he says that almost no one experiences the benefits of Zoloft on 50mg. (Then why do they even make a 25mg?) But he said it’s only 1 of 2 medications proven to treat PTSD. The other med, he said, he doesn’t prescribe because the side effects are crazy bad. He was much nicer than the second doc. He made me feel bad about 2 things though. One was my hope (<— f*** that word) in the medicine. He said for someone like me, dealing with huge and multiple traumas, that meds are only 10% of the equation. The rest needs to come from therapy. 😞 I had wished the meds would help more than just 10%. The other thing was my problem regulating my body temp and not having my period for 2 months now. I thought (and still think) I was so distressed when I was locked up, that I skipped it then and it’s listed as a side effect…so I thought maybe that’s why I still don’t have it. He suggested I might have early menopause!! What the..?? No, don’t tell me that. Don’t crush my dreams of ever having children!! Are you freaking kidding me?? No. No. No.

Everyone says “wait” on God. Wait for a husband. Wait for children and a family. God will give you the desires of your heart.

F that. He doesn’t. This is proof.

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Published December 9, 2017 by Chloe Madison

Overall, this week has been really hard. It’s felt like a YEAR.

Sleep has been sporadic. There haven’t been many nightmares but there were two recent ones- one is far too graphic to share. It related to previous trauma. It was disgusting. Not going to talk about it. There was another one from last night that had demons in it. They made their presence known- they kept taking my phone out of my hands as I used it- that happened a few times. I also saw them coming through walls in a bathroom. In my dream, I was vacationing with a family and their little boy was trying to tell the family that demons were causing things to happen and everyone ignored him. This was all a dream, but it’s still disturbing.

Today a 15 year old girl repeated MY words to me- she was telling me how she wanted to commit suicide and she said, “I don’t know why God doesn’t just take me.” My heart went up through my throat. I couldn’t believe I was hearing this, coming from her. It hit me so hard- both of our pain. Her story is similar to mine. She was raped repeatedly by an uncle and her mom hasn’t been the best source of support. In frustration, her mom even told her she would give her up for adoption. I told her I’d happily adopt her. Seriously. I know her mom wouldn’t really do that, but it’s so cruel and damaging to say. I see over and over how people don’t understand and don’t have patience with those of us who have been gravely injured and are struggling. I know it must be frustrating…but all I see is people giving up on us. I know I want to give up on myself…so what can I possibly do to make others not want to give up on me?

She also talked about how God has given her too much to handle in life. Again, I nearly choked as she was saying my own words to me. I couldn’t agree with her more, but I HAD to give her every ounce of positivity I could muster.

I did my best to encourage this young girl and show her how much I care for her. I’ve only known her for four months, but she knows she has my support and undivided attention whenever she needs it. I wish I could do more for her.

I think about the words she said that are mine. I’ve written those very words here so many times. I’ve thought them even more times…. I wonder what God might be trying to show me by having this young girl say that to me. My heart hurts so badly for her.

I finally heard back from my old pastor whom I’d emailed. I told him how I was scared of being judged for having been locked up and his reply was amazing. Here’s part of his email:

That last paragraph… wow. It means a lot to me. When he didn’t reply right away, I was sure he thought I was crazy and didn’t want to have anything to do with me. I was so worried. So it’s really good to hear from him and to know I have his encouragement.

I feel like I’m wringing every single bit of support from people. It’s such a necessity to my survival. Even though I’ve asked for it from a few people, I’m scared to. I fear rejection and people backing away from me. I feel like that’s the response I’ve received from the few people I’ve asked. But I need help so badly. Just to feel loved, cared about, to be encouraged… I can’t do that on my own. It doesn’t work that way.

Another good thing happened. Two young people started a gofundme for my hospital bills left over after the insurance paid. They didn’t tell me about it right away. I was so touched they would even think to do that. They posted it on Facebook and tagged me in it so now a lot of people know I was in the hospital. I’ve been fielding questions all day long. I’m absolutely not telling people why I was hospitalized. But now people know I was in the hospital for something. So I finally made a post about it, giving a vague explanation for the gofundme.

This WordPress is anonymous…I’m not using my real name here. I’d like to keep it that way. It makes me feel safer. But if any of you want to help share the gofundme campaign, let me know and I can send you the link.

And then one more thing happened…I don’t think I wrote about it yet. I can’t remember. A friend introduced me to a friend of his who prays over people for healing and stuff. I kind of wanted to meet up with him in person, but he lives in Europe. We emailed a few times and talked once via Skype this past summer. He told me to get a book named The Bondage Breaker, to read through it, pray through it, and we could talk again after that. I had every intention of ordering the book, but never did. That was months ago during the summer.

Well, a lady from my small group at church told me she read a book and thought of six people who might need it. I was one of them, so she whipped out this book and gave it to me. Guess what the name of it was…? Yep.

Unreal.

I couldn’t believe it was the same exact book I was told would help me months ago. I even dug up old emails to be sure it was the same book. Eerie. I’ve tried reading it and can’t. I’ve flipped though it…stopped on a page that said:

And I immediately thought and said, “LIES!!” and I closed the book and put it down. I guess I’m not quite ready to look at it yet. 😞 I feel bad about my reaction, but I just can’t believe any of those things there. Not yet. Maybe some day.

Published November 28, 2017 by Chloe Madison

Overall, today was a good day. It was good to get back to work and see everyone. People told me they missed me over Thanksgiving break and that was a nice surprise to hear. Plus, I REALLY don’t do well when I have too much free time to let my brain wander and stew on my issues. So it’s good to get back to work and feel productive.

I woke up last night at 2am with a migraine. Stupid hospital bills stressing me out. I got another one today- another $6,000 something for the 5 days. I’m suspicious though that there might be more- how can 8 hours in the ER cost three times more than 5 days and nights in a hospital? Is that normal? Anyway, I’m worried there might be some more charges coming. I got additional charges for the ER doctor…and there weren’t any charges yet for the hospital doctors for the 5 days…(YIKES!!!) I’m worried that will be coming soon… 😨

I just keep repeating to myself, “don’t freak out!”

“Don’t freak out!”

“Don’t freak out!”

Gah….😓 I cannot handle this. I cannot handle any more strain on my life. I kept saying to myself over and over again today, “my life is not worth $16,000!!!”

And it’s not. It’s so true. 😦

Alright…what I’m thankful for: I’m thankful for having a good, albeit headache-filled day at work. I’m thankful for better dreams these last few days- I literally dreamed of puppies and ice cream and donuts! 😂 I kid you not! The puppies were drowning…but in my dream, we saved them all and got them all adopted. So it all worked out well. No nightmares last night either… but I was awake at 2am and couldn’t go back to sleep (even with sleeping pills). Hopefully, that won’t happen tonight.

I’m also thankful for something else. I thought a lot about my uncle yesterday and I meant to write that I was thankful for this yesterday, but I got side tracked when I got the hospital bills. I was thinking how he told people that my dad sexually abused him and no one believed him. Knowing that my grandma knew about my abuse and conspired to cover it up…I believe that she believed my uncle, but maybe acted like she didn’t in order to keep it all quiet and protect my dad. But, everyone else that he told… no one believed him. That makes me so sad. I was thinking about that and I realized that I haven’t had that issue. Yes, my mom and grandma knew all along and did nothing to help me or protect me…but I never told them. I never told anyone until I was 18 years old. That’s the first time I had the courage to say a word. I never had the experience of someone not believing me. And that’s what I’m thankful for. I can’t imagine how much more damaging this could be if I was told I wasn’t believed. It made me see that my uncle had more damage done by not having support when he sought it out. That’s so messed up. I’m so grateful that the very few people I’ve shared with have had my back….(minus my two friends who jumped ship recently).

When I think about suicide, I find myself rationalizing that I share the same fate as my uncle. I told myself that over and over. He didn’t survive what my dad did, why would I? He committed suicide, it must be my fate as well. Am I stronger than he is? No way! So why do I think I’d survive when he didn’t? He lived for decades and decades and STILL wound up succumbing to his psychological injuries. My dad will ultimately be responsible for two deaths…and for wrecking who knows how many lives!

…This is what I told myself and this is how I thought. And yesterday when I was thinking about no one believing my uncle, I thought that he must have had it harder. It’s must have been so much more difficult for him because people didn’t believe him. He saw my dad all the time and knew my dad got away with disgusting, evil acts. And HIS OWNMOTHER covered it up. I mean…mine did too. But still…

My fear of not being believed only manifested in one instance and that was with Joe. He had always physically, intellectually, and psychologically intimidated me. Before the rape occurred, he had already been physically violent with both myself and my little dog. So I had already been staying away from him. We were no longer friends because he broke the septum in my nose when he slammed my head against a wall. I had been tapping on something and it had annoyed him. That was the last time I ever talked to him. I was scared and stayed away after that. And months later, the rape occurred. And now…he’s an attorney. Geez…I feel even more intimidated by his occupation. There’s no way I could accuse him without massive fear and anxiety regarding retaliation on his part. I’m almost certain of it. So I see how a fear of not being believed can affect you. I can’t imagine how much that affected my uncle when he tried to confide in people.

I’m trying really, really hard. Things aren’t going well. I’m more deeply depressed than before…but I don’t know if that’s because of the meds or my nice little stay in the hospital that’s giving me a complex. I feel so ashamed of it. My one friend who visited me (and who drove two hours to do so) told me the other day that the hospitalization “doesn’t define you.” I really needed to hear that. I don’t know how she read my thoughts…I’ve been so down on myself for getting hospitalized and feeling like if people find out, they’ll think I’m a looney. It makes me so much more scared to share with anyone. I don’t blame people- I think they’d subconsciously judge me or hold it against me. Anyway, I need to internalize that idea- that this hospitalization doesn’t define me. God does, right?

That’s all I need- another identity crisis.

Published November 26, 2017 by Chloe Madison

I can’t trust God. Maybe that’s because so many bad things have happened. Maybe it’s because my earthly father wasn’t trustworthy and I subconsciously equate that with my Heavenly Father. Maybe it’s both.

How can you have hope in something you can’t trust? If you want to criticize me for that or think that I’m an immature Christian…then, that’s your choice.

I just can’t bring myself to fully trust God. How can I reconcile all the bad that he lets happen? Yes, you say “oh it’s because we live in a fallen world” and that’s true. But God IS sovereign. I know that. So he allows evil to reign.

But as I sit and think…I don’t really believe God fully loves me. Does he love me a little? Sure. Does he love all of me? No. And I’m not just referring to the sinful parts of me. I don’t see how God can love me.

How can anyone ever love me after they find out I was locked up in a looney bin?

And speaking of the looney bin…the bills have begun. How can an ER visit cost $16,570.46??? I’m trying so hard not to freak out. But the shaking and crying have begun. I got another bill from the ambulance which was less than I expected. They only want $358.63. Then I got an additional bill from the ER doctor for an another $695. And do you know what the best part is?? I haven’t even received the bill for the 5 days and nights that I was locked up!!! I’m terrified to find out how much that will cost me. All of these are “out of network” providers. They can charge whatever they want for services I fought tooth and nail against…and I’m the one who gets the joy of this immense financial burden.

How am I supposed to survive? How am I supposed to pay this? How is this supposed to help someone who doesn’t want to live? Is this really supposed to make me want to live now? Seriously? Yeah…let’s throw a huge financial burden and strain on you…don’t think you’re dealing with enough…there…now you’re really drowning in debt…don’t dare come up for air…feel better now? Smh.

Sorry…I’m trying to use twisted humor and sarcasm to deal with this. I’m trying so hard to not freak out, to stop crying. How can ONE PERSON handle bills like these?

This was the worst experience of my life. I’ve been trying to brace myself for the financial part that I knew was coming. I guess I’ve done a horrible job of preparing myself. I don’t know what to do.

EMDR 3

Published June 21, 2017 by Chloe Madison

This was an extemely emotional session- I was crying before I even went in (about other stuff though). I feel so deeply tired, like I can’t move my body. Almost like I’m drunk, my body feels numb and tingly and heavy.

We had a discussion about what’s real or not in EMDR and how could Jesus be bringing forward my dad if I don’t even think my dad’s in heaven. If it’s not real, then how can this bring healing? This was important to discuss because it’s even distracting me during sessions. I wonder how much of what’s happening during EMDR is just wishful thinking on my part and how much of it is real healing that’s occurring. So we only did 20 minutes of actual EMDR.

I realize I have new anger with my dad- so much more than before. I’m incredibly angry about the life his actions have taken and the multiple lives it’s ruined.

We picked up where we left off- my dad was there with a sad face and big, questioning eyes, (waiting for me to either forgive or accept him or hug him or something) and Jesus was behind me. I pushed myself back into Jesus- not wanting to move toward my dad and wanting to rest/ rely on Jesus or to know that he’s still there for me.

Jesus and I were standing the same pool of water. The water changed from blue to red, as I was avoiding looking at Jesus because I really wasn’t ready to move toward my dad. I remembered that Jesus nudged me the last time to go toward my dad, but since I didn’t feel ready, I felt ashamed to look Jesus in the face.

The red crept up from the water and moved into the sky and everything became a deep red- I thought Jesus was leaving, but I remembered that’s what the color purple represents. I’m not sure what the red was all about. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see green grass sprouting up.

Out of the green, blooms a single yellow orchid (which reminds me of my dad because he grew orchids- there’s even a brown orchid with a fuchsia and yellow center named after my dad, called the Charlie Orchid.) 

The Charlie Orchid


The grass morphs into the orchid plant and in fast forward motion, whole sprays of yellow orchids shoot out and bloom. I see a caretaker of the orchid plant- someone (only a shadow) bent over the plant. I think it might be my uncle (because he and his wife grew orchids after my dad died). It turns out it is my uncle. He looks up and talks, but I can’t hear him. I really want to hear what he’s saying so I tell him that I can’t hear him. He gets up close to me, smiles a great big smile and loudly says with a funny, sarcastic attitude, “What I said was…” and then he keeps talking but I can’t hear him again. His mouth moves, but he’s silent. 

I turn to ask Jesus to help out here- to help me understand what my uncle is saying. I think I forgot some parts that happened in between…but I see my uncle smile like I have literally never seen him smile before and he gives a side hug to my dad, who’s also smiling. I immediately think it’s fake. This isn’t real- there’s no way everything is all hunky dory between them. (This is where I question the veracity of EMDR). 
? I don’t remember, but I think I look back at Jesus to see if this (my dad and uncle hugging and smiling) is real- to get confirmation. Jesus looks different this time though. He looks like a real person- not like the glowing light he was before. 

⬆️⬇️ don’t know which happened first 

? At some point, I’m avoiding looking at Jesus and I look down and play around with the water, letting my hands glide over the top of the blue water. The water slowly turns white. After all the water turns white, where Jesus and I are standing together, the water begins to glow a warm yellow. I feel warmth on my back where Jesus is. I think I turn to see him. And then I turn back to see where my uncle and dad are- it’s like I’m checking to make sure they’re not the same- like there are no tricks or anything. (?)

I look directly at Jesus and ask him to talk to me, I ask, “What do you want me to know?” He says in the most convincing, sincere and compassionate way I’ve ever heard, “I LOVE you.” He continues, “I’m here with you… (and he says something else and something else- I can’t remember)…and “choose life. Choose MY life.” Jesus hugs me and holds me and says the same things all over again. I’m confused with what he means by choose “my life.” I ask him and he says, to choose the life that he has for me. I ask him to explain to me how to do that, to show me that. In response, I no longer see any visuals- I hear “scriptures” over and over again. I’m mildly annoyed by this because it’s a vague answer and It’s always been hard for me to discern the meaning or the direction that some scriptures point you in. But “scripture” was the very clear answer. 

EMDR session #1

Published June 10, 2017 by Chloe Madison

You’re supposed to focus on a picture of the most distressing part of the issue you’re dealing with. Then, you decide what’s the biggest negative feeling you have about it. I wept throughout this entire session- not sure why.

I have a picture in my head of my uncle’s suicide- his body laying face down in the grass, the stark contrast of the red blood on the green grass. 

The feeling I have is that I should have been more understanding of him, I should have known (what I didn’t know yet) about his abuse by my dad. I should have been more compassionate. 

I feel pain in my heart and chest- it blows up, swells, and feels like it’s going to burst. The pain moves up through my neck and into my head. I feel like my head is going to explode as the pain swells greater and greater. I feel like the explosion will come out of my eyes and my head will shatter. 

So I turn away from the sight because I can’t deal. I keep trying to move away and I feel like I start to float away from the scene. As much as I turn my head in that direction, wanting to move away from the scene of the suicide, I feel obligated to return. It’s the right thing to do. It’s like I just can’t turn my back on my uncle- it’s not his fault. 

I feel like I need to talk with my aunt to tell her the truth. (In reality, my uncle had been sexually abused my my dad when they were younger- my uncle told several people, but no one ever believed him. He spent most of his life depressed and eventually committed suicide). So I feel like I need to tell my aunt that my uncle was telling the truth. But I don’t want to because I’m afraid it will crush her. I see us talking in fast forward with no words.

We move into her house and we begin to become submerged in blue water that’s all throughout the house. The water stands for truth. We soak in the water up to our mouths- our entire bodies are submerged and part of our heads- up to the level of our mouths. We don’t talk anymore, we just soak in the truth. I can tell it’s going to take her time to take it all in (just like it took me time to digest everything). 

As we’re soaking in the blue water, I notice the sky turns a deep red. It becomes a dark maroon, like something foreboding is coming. But there’s a lighter, circular spot that develops in the sky. In the deep red sky, this lighter spot turns into an orange color, then fades into yellow. I feel like Jesus is going to come through that spot on a chariot or something. 

But I don’t let him. Even though I don’t have the power to stop God, I push back and don’t let him come out of the sky. The sky begins to turn a deep purple. I feel like it’s a signal that Jesus is permanently leaving. (The therapist says at this point that it’s our choice to follow Jesus and allow Him to work.) 

So I realize the mistake I’m making and I say, “Sorry! Come back, come back!” I don’t quite remember, but I think the sky turns from purple to orange. I rise up out of the blue pool to get a better look to see if Jesus is coming back. I keep rising up and as I do, I’m spinning and floating upwards, looking all around. I don’t see Jesus, but I get the feeling that he’s all around me. I look up, directly overhead and I see a circular area that’s made up of a whiter light (this reminds me of the very end of Twister when they look up into the middle of the tornado). I’m floating up into this white light. 

I feel like it could be God carrying me up into Heaven, perhaps for a visit. I want to visit my uncle and think that maybe I’ll see everyone there. I see the shadows of all my family members who have passed on. But then I see all the shadows of everyone fade and back away. One person floats forward (he’s a dark shadow with a bigger belly) so I think it’s my dad. I never see him clearly so I’m not sure. I wanted to check on my uncle so I keep thinking my dad will fade and my uncle will come forward. But it doesn’t happen. 

My dad keeps coming forward. He puts his arm around me, his hand on my shoulder and I think he says he needs to tell me something. He says, “I’m so very sorry.” Well, this is all I’ve ever wanted to hear! So I wonder if it’s real or imagined. I think I asked him if he apologized to my uncle…I wanted to make sure they’ve resolved things. He says, “I never meant to hurt you.” I think he said I love you. I don’t seem to receive these messages too warmly as I find myself still preoccupied with wanting to know if he’s resolved things with my uncle and if my uncle is ok. He asks me for forgiveness. I kind of hold off answering, almost like- well, if you apologized to Uncle Gary, then yes- if you didn’t, then no. I’m preoccupied with the injustice my uncle dealt with his entire life. Then my dad says, “Justice is not yours, it’s the Lord’s.” It makes me think of academy and wanting to help others get justice because my uncle never got it and I never did either. 

I tell my dad, “Of course I forgive you. I always have.” We go to hug, but I pause in the embrace. I question if it’s safe. I hold off hugging because I keep questioning the safety/ protection of the situation because it wasn’t safe before. I then see another person’s face- a giant sized face just floating there. This is a safe person, but I try to push that face away because it has nothing to do with the situation. The same giant face comes back again- this time the face itself is faded, but I recognize other facial features. I push it away again, thinking it doesn’t belong (except for the fact that it is a safe person). I can’t quite remember what happens next. 

I don’t know. I think we never fully hug. I think I inquire about my uncle again. My dad answers with something like- he did or said what he had to/ needed to me. (I notice we’re running out of time in the session.) I keep thinking my indecision to embrace or my indecision about whether hugging my dad is safe or questioning about my uncle is making Heaven impatient with me. The white light we’ve been in turns dark purple and I feel like I’m running out of time. They’re going to send me away. 

I descend back to Earth, back toward the pool of blue water. I look up and see my dad’s hand is reaching down to me. I reach up to him, but we’re too far away. God doesn’t let us touch or let us have more time. I keep descending and his hand fades away. 

I can see my aunt again in the water with me. I ask her if she understands now. There’s no response. I’m distracted by the sky turning orange. I see a light circular spot developing again in the sky. I think it’s Jesus coming back. I can’t remember, but I think I decide that  I don’t want to push him away again. 

I think it ends there. I’m not sure. I don’t remember.