Waking Madison

In New Orleans, Madison is overwhelmed by despair and teeters on the edge of suicide. She agrees to meet Dr. Elizabeth Barnes, who begins recording each patient interview on video as part of a fragile diary. The sessions establish the rhythm of the film's core discovery.

During the first interview, Madison confesses about a 'little girl' she is not allowed to talk about, a presence she fears will provoke anger or harm. Dr. Barnes listens, but the identity remains unclear, leaving both doctor and viewer with a shadowy mystery. The revelation underscores trauma at the center of her distress.

Alexis reveals a history of abuse at the hands of a priest, and describes a disturbing image of wearing a thorny crown while attempting to emulate Jesus. She explains that her mother didn't believe her story, highlighting the breakdown of trust. The confession intensifies the film's theme of unspeakable trauma.

Grace recounts being raped at thirteen and the man involved killing himself afterward. She also describes a failed abortion at sixteen that left her unable to have children. Her blunt honesty grounds the film's portrayal of long-lasting trauma.

Margaret appears reluctant at first, then describes a strict, claustrophobic upbringing in which her mother forced her to read the Bible in a closet. The detail underscores how control can shape a person's inner life. The session hints at the power dynamics behind the trauma.

Madison recounts a string of experiences—having sex with strangers, smoking, and taking what appears to be ecstasy—and describes coercive encounters with her landlord. She mentions sharing drugs with Grace, illustrating how survival behaviors blur into self-destruction. The material contrasts her own experiences with the other patients' stories.

She locks herself inside her apartment, choosing to document her experiences as a private diary rather than trusting others. She fixes a chilling deadline—the thirtieth day—by which she plans to end her life if answers do not come. The act marks a turning point in how she engages with her trauma.

Madison experiences recurring visions: inverted images, a girl's mouth taped, a lone hand reaching, water dripping through hallways, and flickering lights. She sees a reflection of herself in a mirror and imagines severing the image, only for the glass to stay intact. A recurring image of a little blonde girl deepens the mystery at the heart of her distress.

A memory surfaces of Madison's mother sinking her head beneath water, a stark image of cyclical trauma and fear of losing control. The scene reinforces how past harm continues to shadow the present. It threads through Madison's fractured sense of self.

At times, Madison bristles when Dr. Barnes addresses her by name, insisting the name is something else. A fragmentary line—'She called you. She is going to die. She is not real. I am real'—shifts between identities, pulling the viewer into her fractured mind. The moment crystallizes how multiple voices contend for control.

A radical turn reveals that Grace, Alexis, and Margaret are manifestations of Madison herself, created to survive unbearable pain. The other patients become mirrors of her psyche. Dr. Barnes's role becomes part of the larger mystery.

Dr. Barnes receives a call from one of Madison's personalities warning that Madison will die. Barnes goes to Madison's home and discovers a hidden notebook beneath a mattress labeled The Helper, filled with drawings of each girl and the little blonde girl. The notebook's contents force a radical reevaluation of who Barnes might be.

The discovery reframes Madison's questions, relationships, and sense of self, opening the possibility that she can move forward instead of ending on day thirty. Naming the parts becomes the first step toward wholeness. The work of listening and diaries shifts the narrative toward healing.

The film closes with a cautious, hopeful line: acknowledging trauma's truth can begin healing despite fractured reality. Madison accepts that she can choose to live and rebuild, even if the mind remains divided. The narrative leaves room for continued recovery.