All posts tagged faith

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.

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.


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 December 4, 2017 by Chloe Madison

I don’t know what just happened. I was just hit with such deep, deep, consuming, and overwhelming sadness. I was wandering around the grocery store and hadn’t been there for even five minutes before it hit me. I nearly burst out crying in the middle of the store. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

In my many hours of sleeplessness, I googled some physical issues I’ve been having recently. One of them is part of what keeps me up at night. I can’t seem to regulate my body temperature. It’s so extreme that it rouses me from sleep. I’ll wake up because I’m burning up, then within ten minutes, I’ll be freezing cold, shivering and all…then I’ll be on fire again. It’s kind of ridiculous. It was a relief to see that it seems to be a more rare side effect of Zoloft. It’s not listed as a side effect, but I found a forum where other people said they experienced the same thing. Then, there’s my cycle. I haven’t had it in two months now. I’m surely not complaining about that, but it’s alarming to me that my body is so out of whack that it’s reached that point. I thought the stress of being locked up had something to do with it. Then, maybe the stress of all the bills, the stigma and shame I now carry as a result of being locked up, the loss of friends… I thought maybe this stress could be causing my cycle to temporarily stop. But then I googled that too. Interestingly, Zoloft is used to treat PMDD. I say it’s interesting because I was diagnosed with PMDD years ago. I was taking Yaz, a birth control, for it, but when I moved to this state, my new doctor refused to prescribe me the same medication, stating it was too dangerous. I remember being upset because it worked so well for me. So, I’ve just been dealing with my PMDD. I really don’t have it as bad as it could be. Anyway, when reading up on the use of Zoloft to treat PMDD, that’s where I found that it can interfere with your cycle, either temporarily stopping it or making it worse (heavier). So all this to say that I hope these physical issues are simply side effects. And even though not being able to regulate my body temperature is so severe that it keeps me up at night, maybe that side effect will subside the way all the other side effects have.

That sadness though… I don’t know why I can’t escape it. I don’t know why it hits like a ton of bricks and knocks me off track. I don’t know why I think about death so much. The only thing I can say is I want to escape. I want to escape this world and all it’s mess and distress and grief. I feel like a wuss who can’t handle life. But life has thrown SO MUCH at me.

And I was thinking about how people always say God won’t give you more than you can handle. But that’s not really true, right? Isn’t the Bible talking about temptation? Doesn’t it say God won’t tempt you beyond what you’re able to resist (or something like that)? Or is there some other verse somewhere that says God won’t give you more than you can handle? Because I just don’t think that’s true. I don’t think God would pick out only stronger people to give crappier circumstances to. I don’t think that so many people would commit suicide if God had made them strong enough to handle their circumstances. I’m not sure. I don’t think God wants people to commit suicide- that’s for sure. But I’m not so certain we humans can bear all the weight of our heavy lives in this broken world. So many people can’t. I can’t. And I’ve accepted the fact that I’m weak…that’s true.

I am trying to fight it though- that strong urge and desire to quit, to give up, to refuse to live in this misery. I’m trying to fight it, however weak I am.

Published December 3, 2017 by Chloe Madison

I’m trying to remain as positive as possible, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job of it. Sleep has eluded me for several nights now. I woke up last night around 2:30am and couldn’t fall back asleep- and that was with multiple sleeping pills. Maybe that’s why I’m kind of cranky today.

In church, my pastor’s sermon hit home a few times. One thing he said was how sometimes we ask God why…when, if we got the answer, it probably wouldn’t matter anyway. We’d still be dealing with the same situation regardless of why it happened. What we really need, he said, was an arm around us. He used that phrase over and over again, referring to both God being with us and others being with us during hard times.

He gave one illustration of my worship pastor’s father who was in the hospital. And where he was, it was culturally common for the community to join in when one needed it. He stated how his father’s hospital room was never empty. I stopped right there…I have no clue what he said right after that because I was imagining a hospital room full of friends and family. And then I got hurt and angry. I was hospitalized for five days and had two visitors, who came once each. Wow. I remembered how difficult it was sitting there watching other patients get visitor after visitor. I felt so lonely. It was a hard reality of just how alone I am in this world. And then I tried to imagine the effect it would have had on me if I had visitors the way my worship pastor’s father did. I tried to imagine how much more cared about I would have felt. I wondered if it could have helped me get out quicker. I wonder if it could help me heal. And then my pastor said it again- how we need an arm around us. I just don’t feel I have that. I’ve opened up to more people since I got locked up and as difficult as that was, I still feel alone. That’s why I go back to text messages and emails that make me feel cared about. Even though they’re old messages, I’ll reread them, hoping to feel less alone in all of this. I’m trying to keep my thoughts positive, but I feel fake doing it…as fake as I was when I talked with people when I was locked up. I remember faking being ok, fake smiling, fake everything. I’m trying to write positive things…but I feel like I’m BSing myself. I’m not happy, things aren’t ok, things aren’t going well. Every day, I think of dying. I can simply choose to not write about that, but I’d be faking it. These last few days have been better- no sleep and migraines included. But I’m so uncertain of the future. I still can’t see January…even though I also thought I’d never see December. I can’t see 2018 at all. Nothing. Just a void. I feel like that’s what the future holds. Darkness. Emptiness. Lifelessness. Hopelessness.

Published December 2, 2017 by Chloe Madison

Overall, I’m doing good at the moment. Battling a borderline migraine for who knows how many times this week. Since I got the first of the bills, migraines have been off the chart in terms of frequency. I’ve never had this many in one week.

I’m so thankful today is Saturday and I can rest- as opposed to having to go to work. Didn’t sleep much last night. I’ve been up since 3am. Lots of weird dreams lately, but only one nightmare and it wasn’t all that bad.

When I’m upset, I keep forgetting to say and focus on what I’m thankful for. So I think I neglected to do that in my last few posts?

Even though I’m still shocked that my two longest friends abandoned me in my greatest time of need, it makes me all the more grateful for those who didn’t. I kind of reconnected with a friend yesterday who’s been super busy and that meant a ton to me. One of my best friends has been being great at supporting me even though she’s across the country. Nearly every day she’s sent me a text just saying hi or asking how I am. That means a lot, knowing that I’m not forgotten.

I’ve been thinking about some of the most meaningful messages I’ve received recently and how incredibly grateful I am for them. One very old friend who I haven’t seen in over a decade sent me an email right before Thanksgiving:

I can’t remember what skit he was talking about but it doesn’t matter. I’m so thankful for his kind words and his timing was impeccable.

Another friend sent these messages a while back…maybe a month ago?

I remember thinking that last message was super cool. I smiled, which is rare these days.

I’m thankful for the few people I have supporting me. They’re vital to my survival. I’m thankful for my job. I’m thankful for God “rescuing” me from that horrible place I was locked up in. I’m so thankful I can rest today.

And yesterday, I did an interview (anonymously) about my story. I hope that God can and will use it to somehow help others. I’m not sure how that would work, but I know God is capable of anything. I pray that He will bless and use that- it would help make me feel useful in this world. The interviewer brought up the idea of me speaking at camps for young adults or even teenagers. Man…that would be awesome. But again, I’m not sure how that would happen.

Today, I’m thankful for a lot.

Published November 30, 2017 by Chloe Madison

I’ve been struggling hard these last few days. I am so deeply sad. And alone. I know I’ve said that repeatedly…but these feelings are so overwhelming…and persistent.

I feel like I’m trying so, so hard. But anytime I act happy for even a second, it’s so fake. It’s like I’m even trying to convince myself that I’m ok. But I think it’s what I have to do- keep trying to be happy? I’m just not sure that’s a viable solution. With the issues I’m dealing with, can I just will away sadness and will toward myself happiness? I don’t think so.

I’ve had a migraine for three days now. It went away yesterday (yay!) but then came back today. My appetite is back and I’ve been eating like crazy…getting fat. But whatever….it makes me hate myself more, but at the same time, I couldn’t care less. My thoughts are focused on much more pressing issues.

I know- almost for a fact- that I wouldn’t have lived through Thanksgiving break if I stayed here alone. I had multiple break-downs with my mom, but the rest of the time was bearable and I am alive. I might not like that…but…mission accomplished. I’m thinking I need to do something similar for Christmas break. I LOVE Christmas. I haven’t decorated my place in years. I always told myself I didn’t have the money for a tree and it was just for me anyway, so I should forego it. This year, I’m doing just the opposite. I REALLY don’t have money for a tree, but I got one anyway. I dug out my Christmas decorations and went to town decorating. It does make me smile for a second when I walk in my place and see the tree and the lights. I don’t have ornaments, but a lit up Christmas tree is beautiful enough to me.

So for Christmas break, I know I can’t stay here alone. I usually drive across the country to stay with my mom. I REALLY don’t feel like driving for days, but I cannot see living through the holidays if I’m by myself.

I can’t see January.

I’ve been trying to see January FOR MONTHS now and I can’t. It’s like a black void. There’s nothing there. It doesn’t exist. It’s something I’ll never see. It makes me think I won’t live to see it. I don’t know why else it would be blocked out from my view.

But I’m trying.

That’s why I’m going to make sure I don’t spend the holidays alone. I’m trying…as fake as it might feel to me.

I’m trying to do everything I can to enjoy life, to find happiness, to ignore the persistent sadness, to pursue God, to be open to his will, to continue to love every person in my life. I care so deeply for others, but lately I’ve been terrible at showing it. I feel like part of our purpose in life is to love others in the name of Christ. I want to do that. I don’t want to be so wrapped up in myself that I don’t see others in pain or in their struggle.

The persistence of loss. The persistence of sadness and despondency. It’s already worn me so thin….and it’s still unraveling me. There’s not much left

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.