If you have clicked onto the about page, it means that you’re interested in getting to know me, which i’m thankful for. i don’t really know where to start, but here goes.

My name is Madison, but everyone calls me maddie, please don’t address me as Madison, i really don’t like it. I was born on 14th october 1994, making me 17.

i don’t really want to sit here and moan about every small detail of my life, as i know that compared to some my life has been super easy. that doesn’t mean it’s been a walk in the park, however. i don’t really know what is and isn’t appropriate on these pages and i don’t want to be deemed as an attention seeker, but then again if it is my about page, you want to know where i’ve come from and what’s made me what i am today. so, if you’re not interested in hearing about my childhood, you should probably click dashboard now. 

when i was a kid, my dad was an alcoholic. now, i loved my dad more than my own life and when i was young i would see him every weekend and most wednesdays and he would even occasionally walk me to school when he was having a good day. i never asked my mum what it was that drove my dad to alcohol and i don’t intend to. 

he was a beautiful man with an abstract mind that he passed onto me. he doted on me, or so i’m told and thats how i remember it. we were so close and when he was sober he was always so apologetic for how he was the night before. he would never lay a hand on me, but he was very aggressive toward my stepmum. most weekends i lay awake listening to plates smashing and screams and walls being punched and then silence. it was the scariest thing. i would lay awake every night, singing to myself with my hands over my ears. that was the only way i could ignore it. 

one time, i remember getting the courage to come downstairs. i screamed and begged him to stop hitting her, i was only 7. she turned to me after i’d said whats nans number, i need to leave and told me it was 999. i called it and ended up turning my own father in. after that my mum found out what i was going through and stopped me seeing him for a year. i was allowed after that, supervised visits and eventually he went to rehab. this was after an episode of him taking me from my nans and refusing to tell anyone where we were, because he was drunk and afraid he would never see me again. he frightened himself that night and took it upon himself to get help. i saw him once in 6 months and i was 13. 

he cleaned himself up and got off the drink, working at a group home to make food for the homeless and look after people that needed it. he practically became a saint. i remember visiting him for the last time here and as i left he cried. i always think that somehow, maybe fatherly instinct, he knew he would never see me again. i turned and layed my head looking back to him, i remember his face so clearly. a week later i was woke by my mum, who asked me, a girl of nearly 14, to come and get in bed with her and my step dad. i laughed said no and went to bed. when i woke, i got ready for school and noticed my mum was shaking and watching my every move. i didn’t say anything but just as i went to leave she called me back and told me to sit. 

my dad had died from liver failure the night before. the funny part was, when she said ‘your dads passed away baby’ i looked around desperately for my stepfather, thinking she meant him. i saw him and thought it was a sick joke, and then it just hit me. that night was the worst night of my life and thinking about it just brings me to tears. i was very depressed at this stage in my life and shut myself down. i refused to communicate with my family and had to see several therapists. due to being so down, my immune system was shit and i caught meningitis. i was ill for weeks and lost nearly two stone. 

this scared me so much, i was practically on the verge of death many times. i opened up to my family because i thought i would lose them. in a way, the illness was an eye opener. i visited my dads grave for the first time since the funeral once i was able to walk properly again and cried for the first time in months. 

its been hard not having him see me grow up, not having him secretly film all the shows i’m in under his coat. not having him cry on my every birthday. but i know he’s not in pain anymore. i’ve grown up so fast and because of him, i’m strong. if my heart breaks or a friend betrays me, i can think you have dealt with so much already, who is this person compared to that? i can laugh thinking about all the good times and i often think that my dad is around me controlling what i remember of him. i feel like he lets me know all of the good and some of the bad, i know there are things i dont quite remember but i also know that its easier to remember the real man he was. 

my stepdad is my dad. he’s been here since i was 6 months old and i have a real family. i dont feel sorry for myself, i have so much in my life. i have so much to look forward to and i know how proud my dad would be of me. 

i believe that in my dad leaving, as much as i love and miss him and would give anything to have him back, it could have happened because it was what he needed. he could have easily fallen back to his old ways, though i like to believe he wouldnt have and he’s happy and healthy wherever he is now. my two sisters on his side were too young to remember him as anything but pure and good and one of them has down syndrome, so she doesn’t remember him at all. but i look at them and i see him and on the rare occasion i see them and millie runs into my arms, i think back to when we were with our dad at the zoo and we were all happy and laughing and i hope that somewhere in their minds, they can sense that moment too.

thank you for reading about my life, i really appreciate it. i’m sorry it wasn’t happier but i really believe i’ve been lucky in life. but in lying about what i’ve dealt with, i wouldnt be myself. now that you know more about me hopefully you’ll see me more than a face and a blog but as someone you can talk to freely.