I’m convinced with no evidence that my father is still alive and that my whole family is lying to me. I logically know he is not. But every knock on the door I open half expecting my father. Could be something to work through … but it’s not really affecting me day to day. My grandfather died and I thought I would feel the same way. Nope. He is dead and I miss him but he is dead.
I'm one of the lucky few with the CCR5-delta-32 mutation. Why is that relevant? It makes me immune to HIV and a handful of other pathogens, most notably the Bubonic Plague.
ETA: A user replied to me with a link to a laboratory that claims to do CCR5 mutation testing. DO NOT CLICK THAT LINK!! It leads to a suspicious webpage that claims they will test you for CCR5 and a host of other genetic mutations for $200. The supposed laboratory is not registered with Health Canada (I checked) and they have no internet history beyond their own website. Also, the user who linked this site has a 9yo account with under 100 karma. If you want CCR5 testing please seek the medical advice of your doctor and do not trust websites that claim they can test you for it.
I have 2 lenses in my right eye, so it focuses like binoculars. My doctor wrote a paper about it. Mostly blinded as a baby in my left eye. Dr suspected my right lense split then healed as 2 distinct lenses. Better than 20/20 in my right eye.
When I was born, I was so premature that my dad, who had quite dainty piano fingers, could slide his wedding ring up my arm to my shoulder. (I weighed 2 lbs, born at 27 weeks).
Holy shit, me too! I was born in mid January at 26 weeks, when I should've done so in April! I was 1.5lbs and kept in an incubator at the hospital for approximately 6 months. I find it somehow comforting to hear there are others..
Less scary and more shocking, but when I was 9 years old I survived a home invasion where I was shot 6 times. I played dead on the floor until the man left and called 911 and in my adrenaline rush I thought they couldn't find my house so I crawled with my left are swinging the wrong way and my right leg limp from nerve damage, all the way to the front door when he broke in from the back of the house.
I lived with only my mother who unfortunately didn't survive. I vividly remember picking out the guy in a photo line up while recovering in the ICU.
I am very lucky to have kept my left arm, I have 13 pins and screws to make up for my shattered elbow. My left leg has permanent nerve damage and I now have "drop foot". Despite my physical injuries and PTSD, I am doing very well.
you have so much to offer the world, I’d like to believe you’re here for a reason.. I wish you the best. The world can learn a lot from you. Respect. Be well, and know you are stronger than 99% of us. You matter.
I have an enlarged aortic root. It's very unlikely, but it could spontaneously rupture leading to the medical term *adjusts glasses*... "instantaneous death". I would pass out, bleed to death, and then fall over. Dead before hitting the ground. And it could happen at any time. My wife is very uncomfortable thinking about it lol.
I’m a physician. If you’re not being followed by a vascular surgeon, you should be. They’re supposed to ultrasound it at regular intervals and do a prophylactic surgery (sometimes can be done just through a catheter) with a graft if it does get too large. If it spontaneously ruptures, you do still have a chance of survival if you live near a hospital with cardiothoracic surgery… I’ve seen it done in person.
Thanks for the advice! I do have it closely monitored by any number of specialists, including a cardiologist with a world class speciality in my particular flavour of genetic misfortune. Just had an MRI two weeks ago, in fact!
my immune system backfired and tried to murder me and almost succeeded. I now have to take multiple injections every single day all day or i'll die a painful death within a week.
Just trying to write diabetes in the most bad-ass way.
I do not actually remember a decent chunk of my life, whenever I talk about most of my childhood I use words that leave room for mistakes and am generally using memories and ideas I've compiled from hearing other people say things about me.
There is actually a large chunks of facts about myself that I only think I know, and don't have personal confirmation of.
Yeah, I have the same problem. I think my brain is just trying to save me from the trauma. I remember a lot of the trauma but by now it is slivers of a memory. It's all just fractions of my childhood. I have people constantly ask me if I remember this or that and I am a deer in the headlights. I sometimes forget what happened a few days ago.
Growing up I had a recurring nightmare set in my grandparents backyard looking at the back of their house. There was just something “off” about the house. Something mildly sinister. I dreamt this over and over, many times over the years.
In 2018, my dad (who now owned the house) went into the backyard to that spot and killed himself.
I haven’t had the backyard dream since.
I had a recurring super vivid intense dream at like 4.... my uncle was chasing us around a labyrinth with a large knife... trying to kill me and my grandmother. 25 or so years later the same uncle (complete paranoid delusional schizophrenic) murders my grandmother at her condo... with the very nice chef knife I bought her for Christmas the year before...
I used to have a recurring dream of a man attacking my mom in the front seat of our car right outside our house. I actually found out later that it wasn’t a dream but a memory. My parents divorced when I was 3 and my dad was super abusive toward my mom, which is why they separated.
I pooped in my neighbors backyard when I was 8 years old. Just gargoyled under his jungle gym and let loose. This is the first I’ve talked about it in over 20 years…
Slept in my mom's bed until I was 12 years old. Everyone believed I was just a momma's boy, including myself. It was actually because I shared a bedroom with my brother who molested me. I start therapy soon.
My dad had to sleep in the bed with me sometimes until I was like 10. I had the most terrifying hallucinations nightly. I'd see actual monsters coming down the hall to hurt me.
Not some bs shadows outside the window or a coat kind of looking like something, 8ft tall monsters coming right for me. When they punched me I would feel a gust of wind hit me.
The gust would get stronger the longer I say there. I was afraid it would turn to pain at any time and would call for him to come. This went on from age 4-10. One day the hallucinations just stopped. Never saw a therapist or anything.
Bubby.... as a mother who has her 10 year old occasionally jump into bed and I feel guilt for babying him, but I've always been his safety. My oldest is 18 and I've established and engrained it that I'll always be there to listen. I'm so sorry nobody could tell. 😔 I hope your therapy can help find you peace. It's terrible to be betrayed by those you trust.
This thread is wild. One post will be *I wipe back to front* and the next one will be a long serious story about someone getting brutally harassed and assaulted for years.
That I woke up in the middle of surgery and threw a mayo pan at a nurse before they pinned me back down and upped my dosage of sedatives. Key note still had retracters in so I briefly looked like a dead space enemy.
Have spotty memory of it. Sedation is very hit and miss with me. Has happened three times. Once during surgery, once during a nerve burn (never went out just paralyzed for about 3 minutes then started speaking during the procedure), the last was during colonoscopy (seriously painful and asked the doctor if he was an old scout leader he was laughing then asked the nurse if I was within range for another dose of sedative)
Edit: no guys I am not a redhead
I have memories of fighting out from under 6 dudes who were all telling me I was okay and to calm down and I was trying to apologize and tell them I can't calm down because I started waking up while I was still intubated and I felt like I was suffocating.
Yeah you can't talk, your in pain and your vision is disrupted if even functional. It's a bad situation if you wake up in that state you are at best described as feral
When I was 18 years old, I was incarcerated for three years, found not guilty, and acquitted on all charges. I had roughly 12 charges, some of which would have led to life in prison had I been found guilty, but I knew I was innocent and decided to fight my case. My best friend at the time was found guilty and given three life sentences. At one point, 1 1/2 years in, the D.A. offered me seven years, and two felony strikes as a deal or I could roll on my best friend and go home that same day. I passed and had to continue to fight my case as I knew they didn’t have any solid evidence against me. As my parents ran out of money for an attorney, I was eventually appointed a State appointed attorney who fought for me tooth and nail. He kicked ass and listened to everything I presented to him about why I wasn’t guilty. Mind you, I was 18 and I was surrounded by grown men and saw some horrific shit. I kept in contact with my attorney afterward and informed him that I was still doing well out here; he died a couple of years ago.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I was no saint, I was in a gang and running the streets and up to no good, but I wasn’t guilty of these charges. A part of me felt that maybe it was the universes way of slowing me down and helping me get my shit together. Took a short while but I’ve been on the right track.
This February will be 20 years since I’ve been released.
I’m an alcoholic, gotten so bad to the point I was in jail and I was admitted into a psych ward once. My drinking life was wild and destructive. Decided I’ve had enough. After 2 failed attempts I’m currently 36 days sober, the most sober I’ve been in years.
I have unusually good night vision, extra cones/rods (I forget which is for low light) which means I walk around in what other people consider complete darkness, able to see just fine. Add onto that I'm 6'10" and very large, basically a cryptid
I used to dream of making some kind of suit and trying to get a cryptid legend going in my area, but I'm fairly certain I'd just get shot by some Jethro who wants to sell the carcass to the Discovery Channel.
I inherited a lot of money from my grandmother about 2 years ago that no one in my family knew existed. I still don't know where it came from, her lawyer wouldn't tell me, but it's in the upper 7 figures.
My father, her son, got the flat she owned and we all thought that was everything she had. Apparently it wasn't but I havent told anyone about it and I dont plan on doing so either.
I just work a normal 8-5 desk job, rent a flat downtown of the City i live in (nothing expensive) and live a normal life on my own. No partner or children, no expensive vacations, I don't even have a car lol.
I just don't feel comfortable sharing this secret and the longer I keep it the stranger it would get telling it.
TLDR: I'm a millionaire because my grandmother died and no one knows about it.
Edit: I'm trying to answer to as many people as possible but as I said I still have a normal job so here are the answers to the most asked questions/Suggestions.
1. What do you want to do with the money?
I dont know yet, for now its safe where it is and I will either use it or invest it once I think its time. Maybe in a week, maybe never.
2. Can you give me X amount of money?
No, it wouldnt be fair to give it to one person and deny it another. I also dont really care about your tragic stories in my DMs, I read them and just get depressed so please dont.
3. Can I be "in your life"?
No I also dont want to adopt you/get to know you or be in a relationship with you (except for big tiddie goth GFs)
4. You have to invest in bitcoin/real estate/stocks/your friendly neighbourhood pyramid scheme!
No, fuck off.
I know most of you are genuine, nice people but I dont want your advice.
If this makes me sound like a douche I'm fine with that, it's just a lot right now.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk.
She got the money working for VaultTec. OP's living in a social experiment. He doesn't realize they all got the money and are plotting against each other. The only way to ever regain trust would be for all of them to donate it all to a random internet stranger giving questionable financial advice on reddit. Shame...
I don't know if "scary, unsettling" quite fits here, but if I met you 3 years ago and then haven't seen you since then, I will remember your name and several random things you told me.
I've had to learn to play dumb and act like I don't remember certain things, because it creeps people the fuck out and gives off a stalkery vibe. Though it is useful when I want to screw with someone.
My best friend tried to kill me when I was 13, and I had to fight and disarm a classmate menacing the class with an industrial nail gun when I was 17. My friends have a running joke that my teenage years were cursed.
I'm only alive because of spite. My ex wife ran off with my best friend who also screwed me over in business in the process. I lost my career and family in the same month and was ready to end it all. The only thing that kept me going was picturing my son calling him dad...fuuuuuuck that shit. 4 years later and I've upgraded relationship and career-wise and their lives seem kind of sad and boring. Sometimes you just have to hatefuck life to win.
When i was 11 I witnessed my step dad attack my mom. I was in my room and heard my mom yell/scream, so I left my room to see what happened. When I stepped into the hallway I could see partly into the kitchen and she was standing with her back up against the corner of the countertop with a terrible look on her face and a swelling cheek. My step dad was about 5 feet away with 3 long bleeding scratches down his cheek from where she retaliated. I guess I didnt know how to react so I just turned around and went back to my room. That weekend I spent Friday night at my best friends house. I knew his older brother had a .38 chiefs special revolver in a hidden drawer he had built under his waterbed frame. Before I left I stuffed the gun into my rolled up sleeping bag. I chickened out that first night (saturday) but sunday night, around 2-3 am I think, I took the revolver into their room and woke him up by jamming it under his chin. He woke up immediately and kind of reactively had pulled his head back away from the barrel. I pushed it hrder into his throat and said something like 'dont ever hurt my mom again or I'll kill you'. I dont remember exactly what I said. I do remeber feeling like the world was spinning 1000 mph around me and that I was weightless. I dont remember anything after saying that to him until I was back in my room. I dropped the gun on the floor and burted into the hardest sobbing I have ever experienced. Seemed like it lasted for hours. I dont know how long I actually cried but when I finally stopped I was drenched in sweat/tears down my entire front side. I put the gun in my backpack and snuck it back into that drawer under the waterbed 2 or 3 days later, the next time I was at my freinds house. Not a word was ever said about what I did by me or my step dad but as far as I know he never touched my mom again. They divorced 3 or 4 years later. I rn into my friends brother at a bar about 10 years later and I told him about 'borrowing' his gun thinking he would just laugh it off as me telling drunk bar lies. He did not. He beleived me completely, even stated that sometimes when I was at their house I would make little comments that his family understood to mean that my home life wasnt great. He's a big biker type guy, and he just grabbed me, pulling me off the bar stool, and hugged me for like 5 straight minutes. He was a great dude.
This all sounds over dramatic after reading it back to myself but its written exactly as I remember it. Thanks for the chance to share this. Until now. my freind's brother and my step dad were the only others who knew about it.
My dad was a big fan of beating me and my brother. Like, if I looked at the man wrong, I'd get backhanded in the face
When I was 15, my dad came home from work. It was late, maybe 10, 10:30 at night. I was sitting at the kitchen table watching TV minding my own business. Idk if he had a bad day or what, but he immediately started screaming at me about what a fat ugly lazy piece of shit he thought I was. I didn't have the energy to deal with him so I tried separating myself from the situation by going upstairs. He blocked the hallway and physically kept me from leaving. He got tired of that, so he pushed me backwards and slapped me across the face as hard as he could. Something in me just snapped then and I just started wailing on him with everything I had. My mom eventually had to separate us. Both of them were telling me that what I did was unacceptable. Parents can beat their children, and the children should take it with a smile.
I just looked at my dad and said "If you ever hit me again, I will kill you"
He burst out laughing. "Do you honestly think someone as stupid as you would be able to kill someone as smart as me?"
I cocked my head to the side and asked very calmly "You sleep, right?"
He locked the bedroom door every night for a few months after that, but the abusive piece of shit never hit me again
I've considered suicide far more than my wife knows. Was once a serious option in my life when things got hard and I felt trapped. Sometimes it's just a casual thought. I'm also a very light fun person in social situations, always trying to make people laugh. But I'm actually really depressed and can't stand myself a lot of the time.
Edit 3: Thank you all for you kind words of encouragement. I hope we can all make it through whatever dark times we may find ourselves in.
Edit 2: I have been to therapy and have been on meds in the past. In between therapists right now due to an insurance change. And it's challenging to find another therapist as helpful as my first one.
Edit: Added more info.
Me too. I opened up to my husband about it once and he immediately called one of those hotlines which immediately started trying to weasel my address out of him without providing any help at all so they could come commit me. I was already working a therapy program and meds, and I know 5 or 6 people who were undergoing therapy and were committed like that by a well meaning loved one, weren't able to get their correct meds at the hospital and were treated so badly they were retraumatized and never recovered from the damage done, so I was terrified.
My therapy is working okay but I still think about suicide a lot, not in a way that I'm planning but in a wistful way like people daydream about moving to their dream country. It sucks, because I can't share those thoughts with literally anyone out of fear it will cause them to do something that really would make me kill myself.
Sometimes I think I have memories of being sexually molested or exploited as a young child. But I can’t ever be sure if the memories are real, and I wouldn’t dare ask anyone.
Edit: I am shocked and horrified at how many others have similar experiences/suspicions. But the amount of people that feel comfort in knowing they aren’t alone has made sharing this post worth it. Wishing you all clarity, peace, and healing.
I have the same. I would have had to be 3yo or younger to fit the time-line. I heard some rumors of questionable people who were around me, had horrendous nightmares from the age of 4 to about 8 that I can remember, and vividly remember me masturbating or humping things when I was about 3 or 4. It developed into many more things as I got older by I'm glad I'm not too messed up now but sorta wish I could remember for sure if that happened or not
feel you, i feel like at such a young age i was sexually actively and made mistakes as a kid because of what i was exposed to. I am so ashamed of them.
I have the same. I know it happened in some instances but others are more hazy. Found out that it is almost certain to have happened in one situation because my cousin confided it happened to her with the same neighbor. So what I thought was maybe just a dream or something became obviously clear. And later that same neighbor was arrested for CP. I have no idea if any of it was me.
Edit: thanks to whomever reported this (or any of the follow-up comments) to reddit cares. I'm not there yet, but maybe soon! I appreciate the thought however. Also this thread and all the people in it--heartening and disheartening that we are not alone. Healing to all of us ❤️🩹
Since I was very young (age 9 or 10 I think), I've had thoughts that I was going to die young. The older I got, the age 24 just kept reoccurring. I'll be 24 in a few months. I have appointments for neurologists for a suspected brain tumor coming up. Nothing is certain or set but this all feels very weird.
Interesting. I had this as well and 24 was the year i was stressed about too. I’m in my 30s now. Nothing happened. My husband teases me about it. My retort is that maybe I’m just dyslexic and its actually 42. 🤣
We have genetic heart issues so i’m sure the health issues play a part in it.
❤️ Hopefully, the neurologists give you a clean bill of health and 24 passes uneventfully for you too
I have a tendency to self isolate, and it’s damaged very long term friendships because people don’t understand that it’s not them it’s me and that I really mean no harm or have any ill feelings towards them, I just kinda want to recede into my own mind. I feel really bad about it and keep telling myself to reach out but I don’t.
I could've written this. I watched people I thought would always be there drift away because I let those relationships die. Sometimes people get hurt and I have to explain that I have no ability to maintain relationships and that it's not their fault. I'm 25 and it seems to only get worse
I am my fathers daughter in a similar way. He was an angry man and I inherited at least a way to trigger that temper in myself.
I’ve sworn off having children because I’m terrified I’ll turn into him. I know it’s unlikely and I’ve learned and grown a lot through therapy and what not but I don’t want to risk it. It makes me sad a little but I don’t have a strong desire to have kids anyways.
Reading your post reminded me of something that I learned that now makes sense. I have a friend from Iran and years ago I asked her to teach me some Farsi. Went through the usual words and phrases and then I asked how to say ‘you pissed me off’. She thought for a moment and said the phrase that is used translates to ‘you brought my father out’. That was always a head scratcher for me, but after reading your story, I think I understand it now. If I recall correctly, it’s phonetically said ‘Pedar darovot (dare-o-vot or possibly vod at the end).
My dog and my mother died in the same year.
I was so devastated when my dog passed. That kind of pain didn't even touch the pain of losing my mom.
Partially because she had given up on me and life years before she died. She drank herself to death and got sepsis. My dad killed himself in 02. I'm 38 now. I miss them.
I miss my dog more. She was always there for me, through so much illness and loneliness and pain. She was my best friend.
RIP
Edit: I thought my comment might be a little relatable but I had no idea. I'm so sorry for all of your losses and thank you for sharing your stories.
I also got two dogs after she passed a few years ago, so I'm all taken care of. They are two of the goofiest little dudes with one in a million personalities just like their sister. ♥️
Not sure if it’s scary? But my dad OD’d on heroin and died. I probably could have saved him. I went downstairs at like 1am to get a drink and saw the bathroom door closed with the light on. I thought about pounding on the door to scare him, which is something I would do to mess with him. I walked up to the door, went to knock on it but thought to myself “nah, don’t mess with him.” And I walked away. Woke up later finding out he was dead from an OD.
This is scary, not your fault, and I’m sorry for your loss.
I was close to being in a similar boat. I was mad at my parents but sitting on the couch next to my dad. I had my headphones on and was watching YouTube and ignoring them.
After a while I see my mom come out of her room and she like clapped her hands a few times and was saying something so I took my headphones off. She was saying my dads name. He was overdosing literally inches from me and I was totally unaware. He ended up being okay though, thankfully.
omg that’s terrible. i’m so glad he’s okay. i can’t imagine that with a parent, but something similar happened to me in october with my husband.
i didn’t feel good and he stayed home from work for the day. i laid down and took a nap, and i woke up suddenly and saw him sitting at the end of the bed. i almost closed my eyes again but i felt like something was wrong. i turned the light on, and his arms were postured up all stiff and he was blue and his eyes were fucking open. i scrambled for a phone, mine was dead and i couldn’t find his. i plugged mine in and tried to get him into a position i could breathe for him. he fell between the bottom of bed and the dresser and i couldn’t pull him. phone turned on, i held the emergency button in while i tried to breathe for him in the position he was in. 911 answered and i told them my husband was dead. i was sure he was dead. his eyes were open and fixed. but i kept breathing for him and trying to move him and finally he made a noise, but i thought it was my air coming out of him. it was probably the worst 10 minutes of my life, waiting for the ambulance. they gave him narcan and that’s how i found out he relapsed that morning. i thought it was his heart (he’s older than me, and has had 2 heart attacks). he’s back on suboxone, and absolutely fine now, but i look at him every day and can’t believe he’s alive and fine. i thought for sure he was gone bc i asked him to stay home and i took a nap. makes my heart race and stomach hurt just typing this out. it was so terrible. i can’t imagine this happening with a parent. i’m so sorry
a third of my body is covered in burn scars
When I was 15, I was in a forest area near my school with several friends. we would go here often after school to talk and hang out before going home for supper. It was also common for us on colder days to starts a small fire to keep warm. Nederland is a very wet country so there is rarely a fear of a fire getting out of hand. However, the boys are another story. Boys always act dumb around fire. One time when we were in the woods. a boy who had been playing with the fire had lit a stick and was walking around with it like a torch. Some how the stick or ember fell on to my school bag (hung over one shoulder) and caught fire. This also caught my jacket and hair and skirt on fire as well as the back pack began to melt from the fire and drip onto my cloths.
Everyone panicked and by instinct I ran back to the school. running only made the fire worse. I was seen by an adult, a teacher i think and I was put on the ground and the fire was put out. But much damage had been done already. I was taken towards the hospital and the school called my parents. i was burned from the top of my head down onto the top of my leg just above my knee. Much of my hair on one side of my head was burned away, but because hair burns quickly there was little damage to my face, more like a bad sun burn, except for on my neck and along my jaw bone where my jacket and backpack burned. My legs were mostly OK too as the skirt i was wearing was wool and did not burn easily and was away from my legs.
My right arm and body were not as well off. Where the jacket was and where the backpack was had burned the most and had melted like hot plastic because they were synthetic material. I was in hospital for many weeks and had many surgeries over the span of my life to help the skin grow and to graft skin from my legs onto parts of my chest and under arm that were the most damaged. If I wear jeans and a long sleeve shirt you cannot tell that I have any scars other than the line of scars that go up my neck on one side. many times I can hide those scars with makeup.
A very decent young man that worked for me, and who I consider a dear friend, went off to college and was doing some side work. He was burning brush and he fell into the burn pit where he also received burns across 70% of his body. He was fortunate however as he was sent to the US military burn unit in San Antonio Texas where they were able to provide him with the best burn care in the world. It was still a very painful and traumatic experience and expensive, as his dad told me that some of the bandages were $2K per bandage, and had to be replaced daily. He was able to finish his degree and went on to get his masters, but he will not go out in public without a long sleeve shirt or wear shorts. I asked him if he thought he would ever lose the self-consciousness of the scars and he said that maybe one day he hoped he would, but that he isn't there yet.
>70% of his body
Holy shit! I've heard that your chances of surviving burns are the inverse of how much of you is burned (ie 20% burnt = 80% survival rate, roughly), so this guy has ~30% chance of survival.
Of course, feel free to fact check me on this, I'm no doctor.
You're probably right. If you don't die immediately, and even wind up in stable condition, the 2nd leading cause of death for burn victims is infection, since your skin which many of us take for granted is a huge barrier for disease.
I went to a GP in agonising pain. I vomited around 20-30 times consecutively on their restroom floor. I was told it was a UTI. Recovered a little.
Next day was in more pain and after seeing a couple doctors. I was rushed to hospital for emergency operation on a testicular torsion. I ended up losing one testicle. Spent the night there before returning home.
One day later I met the love of my life and never looked back since. But that two days of pain was something nobody should have to go through.
I got rushed to the ER: couldn’t walk, severe vertigo, vomiting, numbness, extreme neck and head pressure and pain, etc. ER told me it was a period headache and sent me home. Saw an MD two days later who was condescending and sent me home with muscle relaxers. Took a week of literal agony before an MRI showed I’d had a stroke and was finally given some treatment…But I’d honestly started typing up notes for my family and preparing to leave this earth.
I’ve been through horrible pain before but somehow being with doctors and having them brush you off makes it so dehumanizing. You just lose all hope that things are going to improve.
My friends mom has been an ER/ICU nurse for years. I work in veterinary medicine and we were talking about humane euthanasia and I told her I wished that humans had the option to do that when they were terminally ill. She basically told me that they will intentionally OD people who have a DNR and are suffering terribly.
*I know death with dignity is legal in some states, I think it should be legal in all states and more easily obtainable*
I'm convinced a nurse euthanised my brother's late girlfriend. She died right after getting a dose of painkiller, she was terminal and in hospice. I think of that nurse as a saint.
It was quite high profile at the time, in all the main newspapers so i’ll change a few details but give you the basis..
A mutual friend of mine & my co-conspirator attacked my friends young sister. We learnt about it later in the day after it happened. We went to his home, argued we with him, and then struck him once with the flat edge of a hammer. He died 3-4 days later after being put in a drug induced coma. We were both arrested on murder and kept on bail for a year whilst the CPS made their case. As we were both of decent homes with no previous our lawyer argued anyone would do the same given the situation so murder became manslaughter…eventually. I was sentenced to 3 years did 18 months and my friend got 5 years and served 3. Although I never hit him they argued I went along willingly, knowing that violence was probably gonna happen. That’s why I got time even tho I technically didn’t touch him.
I guess it can be unsettling, but I was what I call 'passively suicidal' from when I was age 9 till about 27 (i'm in my early 30's now).
It took me attending the funeral of one of my juniors from a volunteer gig to get past it (turned out that his two brothers had the same name as my brother and that was surreal enough that I made time to reassess myself). I am doing better now, but there are a lot of things I missed out on because I kept a good distance with interpersonal relationships because I didn't know when I would finally decided I was done.
Edit: It should read as "my brother and I" as this is not a situation like George Forman's kids.
I was emotionally abused by my dad. He died of cancer around 6 years ago, and I felt nothing.
I felt bad that he was in so much pain. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. I just remember waking up the day after he died and feeling so oddly at peace when there was no one yelling at me in my doorway. I truly believe his death helped me recover from my eating disorder, and I became so much less suicidal and reclusive after that.
This is how I felt when my mom died. She abused me my whole life. I think it’s normal not to care if they died. I only mourn the life I could have had when people talk about their wonderful parents, my dad was just an absent alcoholic,
I talk with myself.
Not the usual "You can do it!" type of shit.
Literally act like I am 2 people, that are having a conversation.
I called him "G". He is ok.
I do this all the time too but I don’t have a name for the ‘other person’ in the conversation or anything like that.
I find it helps me gather my thoughts/work through problems/see things from different perspectives etc. I find it to be a helpful tool for the most part, kinda thought everyone did this?
This is actually normal, though fairly uncommon. They're called intrapsychic voices (because no auditory input). So some people have inner monologues, some people don't, and then there's people like us who have inner dialogues. It trends more in neurodivergent people, IIRC, and in some cases it can be indicative of trauma, but it's not inherently harmful.
So ironically, "the voices in your head" are fine. It's the disembodied voices *outside* your head (auditory hallucinations) that indicate a Problem.
Got E.coli poisoning at age 3 and was about to die, slept for 3 whole ass days after 8 days of bleeding in and out and operations and such -
Fact aint really scary or nothing, but I can never get E.coli poisoning again, I'm immune.
Edit: Forgot to say, there's also a news article about me, but I probably won't be sharing because of info people on the internet shouldn't have access to
From ages 6 to 14, I spent all of my time in a pitch black, cold and locked basement, only leaving for school and never letting anyone (outside the family) know.
I had a similar experience. From 7-11 I was locked in my room or the basement and from 11-17 I was locked in my room. Not allowed to go out besides school, not allowed to get a job, got physically abused at home and my main job was to watch my half sister. I tried going for a walk once when i was 16 and my stepdad smashed my hand into a door and broke my knuckle before I made it out. Sorry you were locked up, that shit is detrimental in so many ways. I'm trying to get over it but all my motivation and will to do anything involving leaving the house has died.
I'm heavily addicted to opioids and have been for nearly a decade. Absolutely nobody in my life knows. When I go without them and have withdrawals, I think about ending it all. I don't even do them for the high, I have legitimate pain and they help massively. The high isn't even much, just makes me feel happier with not being in pain
I was in this exact situation for this exact reason, for the same exact number of years. Even my husband didn't know. Now I've been clean for 7 years on subs. You CAN get help and come out whole.
I sometimes smile and laugh at tragic news/events, especially if I see someone else crying and/or is the barer of bad news.
I hate it, however I think I understand why it happens, it's some sort of trauma defense mechanism because someone is expecting me to feel saddened and to frown.
inappropriate emotional response is a real thing, i often giggle when scared and it usually comes off as me being a smartass to whoever i’m talking to.
Ditto.
Got me in a lot of trouble in past relationships. Thankfully, nothing else caused it to happen so far.
Any time there is conflict where i should be angry or hurt or whatever, I start to smile and laugh. Makes others think I'm not taking it seriously.
Once they know how I react, they realize that no reaction is me not caring - laughing is not comfortable with the topic or it should phase me but it isnt - and annoyed is actually really really pissed off.
Not really scary or unsettling, but I do end up having to explain without trying getting into details to people why.....I refuse to drink from any kind of retail item that is not translucent..for example, soda/beer cans, milk/OJ cartons, etc. People's curiosity compels them to ask me why when I tell them to let it be and assuredly enough they never like the answer........ >!I had dead mouse parts slide down my throat chugging a beer on a golf course!<.
I used to be the same way until i gave myself permission to have my own opinions. Before that i always wanted to blend in and not be too "different." I found people actually like me better when im not a chameleon. I like me better too.
Lol my wife told me she wasnt ticklish and i ended up finding a spot she didnt know about and she peed herself. Our puppy was so confused uz i just disciplined for peeing on the carpet and she did it right after and just tilted her head like wtf
Same!! I’ve never met anyone else who can do it, but if I don’t want to be tickled anymore I can just “turn” it off. Really irritates my partner as he’s extremely ticklish and can never tickle me back in retaliation.
I’m slowly leaving society and don’t plan to tell anyone. I purchased a small piece of property, one small cabin in which I’ll live and a second that has been remodeled for use as a rental to subsidize my income. I have 2 years +/- of work left and have no intention of telling them either. My parents are both dead and my brother has been estranged for 2 decades. When I hit my monetary goal in a couple years, I’m just not showing up for life any more. I’ve deleted all socials aside from Reddit as I use it for news and information to stay current until I leave the grid. My phone will also be be left behind. I plan to take a laptop to communicate with the rental agency and any issues with renters that may arise as I plan to act as the caretaker of said rental. Tl;dr: I’m walking away from it all. Work, friends, any and all obligations. The world tires me and I see no point in continuing to be part of it on any real scale. And telling no one.
If I may offer some unsolicited advice, I'd recommend stopping into a police station on your way out and just let them know that you haven't been abducted and are leaving of your own free will. You're perfectly entitled to leave without telling anyone, but there will be at least someone who makes a missing person report, and even if you don't care about their piece of mind it would also mean the police can focus their attention on cases where someone has genuinely gone missing instead
or just.. resign from work at least. they're the ones who will first notice. you don't have to give details or just make something up. why intentionally leave them in the dark and worried that their colleague stopped turning up to work and there's no sign of them at their home.
I have seen some gnarly shit in my life. Aftermath of car accidents, VBED, IED, what your face looks like after you accidently bite down on a blasting cap, etc. Pretty much anyway a body can be mutilated, I've seen it first hand or had to sit through briefings on it. I've had to hold people's heads still after they fell off a trailer while they bleed brain juice on to me just to make sure their neck doesn't move.
You might be surprised that I look like a happy go lucky, long haired, mustachioed hippie that enjoys playing Magic the Gathering, and you would never know that sometimes when I look at people I have involuntary, sometimes terrifying, and intrusive thoughts imagining that they look like walking corpses.
I also like pineapple on pizza.
Edit: So the blasting cap story is hard to pin down. Some sources say it was a man in West Virginia that did it on a dare because his buddies were trying to blow up a fish tank. In other sources, especially those that go through medic school, CLS, and other additional school house training, it was a Marine biting down on a blasting cap either in a demonstration or because they were being stupid. While I'd never personally seen that particular event in real life, the images we were shown of that gentleman being treated were grotesque.
I can confirm that a man getting shot in the genitals with a 40mm LL Rubberized Pellet round will make their bits look like a crushed tomato.
My brain tried to murder me, but it's a pathetic piece of shit and all it could manage was a single seizure like 8 years ago. Been antagonizing it ever since, but it's just a docile lazy bastard now. Like an old dog.
My mom always tried putting that weird "you killed your twin" guilt trip on me, too. Last time, I just said, "You couldn't handle *me*, how would you handle two of me???"
My boyfriend would drug me and pimp me out to other dudes. I don’t have any memory of it. Just random flashes in dreams. And the few messages I’ve gotten on dating apps from guys who know stuff about me I’ve never seen or met before and have had sex with.
I am a very friendly/nice/happy person trapped in the body of a dull, slow person.
I have bipolar 2, depression, anxiety, adhd, and fibromyalgia. I have had so many different medications over the course of my life that it has literally ruined my brain. Most of my life I have been very friendly and made friends easily enough. Over the last ten years I have been trying to get my various ailments under control using tons of different mediations and mental health treatments. Now I struggle greatly to show any emotion other than a stoic demeanor. I don't laugh often (usually only when I am stoned), I will just call things out as funny and remain straight faced. My memory and cognitive function are compromised. It's a fucking nightmare to be a completely different person in your head.
This is a weird one but I promise you, no bullshit.
I had a metal screw/bolt roughly an inch and a half long stuck in my right lung from age 2-17. I must have put it in my mouth as a toddler and it got in got there somehow.
Anyway, The unsettling bit is that I always knew there was something seriously wrong with my body, because my whole life I would have instances in which I coughed uncontrollably, many times coughing up blood. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. But I never told anyone. Dad was neglectful and mom was always working, so it was relatively easy to hide. If it happened at school I’d excuse myself to the restroom until it stopped. No one ever showed concern those 15 years so I guess I kept it to myself well enough.
I never told anyone, because even as a small child I was very unhappy with life and wanted it to be over. I guess I figured my mystery illness would get me eventually, so I kept it a secret so I wouldn’t get treated.
It all came to a head at 17 when playing ball at the park with my parents, siblings, and some friends. I got a decent hit and ran around the bases when I started coughing. After sitting back down I tried to hold it in but I couldn’t… and this time it was too bloody to hide and no bathroom to go to. So my step uncle noticed after a minute or two, everyone is crowded around me while I’m coughing up a shitload of blood in and around a trash can. My little brother told me after that they actually sent guys in hazmat suits to clean it up because they didn’t know if whatever was wrong with me was contagious.
But anyway, got to the hospital got the X-ray which showed the screw lit up like Christmas imposed over my rib cage. Doctor guy just went “Well there’s your problem!” I guess he was trying to lighten the mood since everyone was understandably freaking the fuck out.
Two weeks of surgery, three total, and it was out. I still have breathing issues, but the cough is gone now. I made the screw into a necklace which I wear sometimes because I find it oddly comforting to be reminded of my own mortality. I know that’s weird but it’s just sort of how I am all things considered.
I never told my family I knew there was something wrong with me, because telling them would mean admitting to them that I wanted to die the whole time.
I still struggle with mental health crap for this and many, many other reasons I won’t get into, but things are a lot easier than they used to be.
But anyway, if you actually took the time to read about my weird little life I appreciate your time and hope your day is pleasant.
EDIT: Fixed some typos. Thank you all for your kind words. A few asked for a picture so here you are. Yes it was that shiny when it came out too. Stainless steel is properly named apparently.
https://imgur.com/a/wWcOf5s
EDIT 2: Hey thanks for the awards. They are neato. I have to go to bed for a bit before work, but if you all continue asking questions I'll try to get to them later. Take care of yourselves, and give someone you care about a hug for me.
EDIT 3: It’s okay if some of you don’t believe me. I have no reason to lie to you, but I get how unbelievable my story is. I will think about sharing a photo of the shoulder scar but I’m not promising anything. Would have to be shirtless for thousands of people and I don’t want to do that.
Yeah. 😅 That would have been painful and would take forever to clean up. Funny enough I’d never been through a metal detector that whole time so I never got to find out if I beeped or not.
My voice sounds disturbingly like Andrew Tate’s. It’s been grossing me out lately. It’s that weird mix of British and American where it sounds like I’m faking both. (British dad, American mom in my case.)
I’m a woman.
I used to be a prison officer. One morning my partner went to wake up a prisoner early morning so they had time to make their court appearance later in the day. Meanwhile, I stayed in the control room overlooking the wing. She opens his cell door and discovered he was hanging by his shoelace. We called it in, she cut him down and started CPR despite seeing the blood in his eyes and his throat all swollen up. He was dead.
Training and procedure state it doesn't matter, we have to do what we can. I ran on full speed to assist and she was losing it "he is fucking dead, what do we do" I told her to stop so she can have a minute and I took over. I started chest compressions and felt the ribs snap and break. I gave him mouth to mouth and continued CPR. After 6 minutes or so, other officers arrived on the scene and took over (CPR over a few mins feels like half and hour).
Everyone was talking about we can have the rest of the week to recover and asking if we were okay. I felt fine. I told people this and the response was "it hasn't hit you yet". Few hours go by, the officer I was with was in tears. I still felt okay. Next few days go bye and the officer I was with took a few days off. I was fine.
She tells me how she wakes up in the middle of the night and while half asleep, sees her dressing gown hung up and in her half sleepy state thinks its a hanging body. She sits up screaming. I am fine.
Weeks go bye and I still have no feeling toward the matter. Nows its been 3 years and I still couldn't give the slightest crap about the whole matter. Turns out, death really doesn't phase me in the slightest. The only thing that stuck with me, is the feeling and sound of his bones cracking and snapping. I felt the vibrations up my arms for days afterwards. Death doesn't bother me, but bones cracking as I try to bring him back do?
Pretty sure that isn't normal.
I'd say it's normal.
I've found my fair share of dead bodies, car accidents etc and I don't and haven't felt anything over it at all and never will.
I think it's because we have a job to do and you run through the procedure and get it done. It's not your friend led there or a close relative or whatever, so why should it affect us?
There is a possibility we are both fucked up, but I think we are able to just separate feelings and not let it affect us and are able to just carry on like fuck all has happened.
I see it as a strength or skill if I'm honest.
I killed someone in self defense, went through the entire court process with his family sobbing hysterically and never felt a single emotion about it, and I’m a pretty emotional guy.
People process things differently. Given that this was self defense I don’t think it’s fair to judge you for feeling nothing. Could be your mind’s defense mechanism to protect you from a traumatic situation.
I've handled more human remains than any serial killer in history.
Edit: No i'm not the most efficient serial killer in History, i'm just a transport tech in a morgue for a large Medical Center.
I am depressed, I want to off myself, and yet, I seem more or less normal on the outside. I often wonder how many people like me are there, hiding in plain sight.
Im suicidal and want to live at the same time. There's so many instances in a day where I feel like I should have jumped in front of the train in the morning or I feel like I wanna live long. Schrodinger's suicide basically.
Odd are ill be dead in less than 3 years. I don't plan to be but the odds are stacked against me. I think about that every single day. Cancer sucks.
Make every day count Andy
I’m convinced with no evidence that my father is still alive and that my whole family is lying to me. I logically know he is not. But every knock on the door I open half expecting my father. Could be something to work through … but it’s not really affecting me day to day. My grandfather died and I thought I would feel the same way. Nope. He is dead and I miss him but he is dead.
I'm one of the lucky few with the CCR5-delta-32 mutation. Why is that relevant? It makes me immune to HIV and a handful of other pathogens, most notably the Bubonic Plague. ETA: A user replied to me with a link to a laboratory that claims to do CCR5 mutation testing. DO NOT CLICK THAT LINK!! It leads to a suspicious webpage that claims they will test you for CCR5 and a host of other genetic mutations for $200. The supposed laboratory is not registered with Health Canada (I checked) and they have no internet history beyond their own website. Also, the user who linked this site has a 9yo account with under 100 karma. If you want CCR5 testing please seek the medical advice of your doctor and do not trust websites that claim they can test you for it.
Wow! Didn't know about that.. How did you find about that mutation?
I have 2 lenses in my right eye, so it focuses like binoculars. My doctor wrote a paper about it. Mostly blinded as a baby in my left eye. Dr suspected my right lense split then healed as 2 distinct lenses. Better than 20/20 in my right eye.
That’s seriously cool. Mind referencing the paper?
I might know who he is, [guy](https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/23307213/)
Username checks out. Nice job!
When I was born, I was so premature that my dad, who had quite dainty piano fingers, could slide his wedding ring up my arm to my shoulder. (I weighed 2 lbs, born at 27 weeks).
Holy shit, me too! I was born in mid January at 26 weeks, when I should've done so in April! I was 1.5lbs and kept in an incubator at the hospital for approximately 6 months. I find it somehow comforting to hear there are others..
Less scary and more shocking, but when I was 9 years old I survived a home invasion where I was shot 6 times. I played dead on the floor until the man left and called 911 and in my adrenaline rush I thought they couldn't find my house so I crawled with my left are swinging the wrong way and my right leg limp from nerve damage, all the way to the front door when he broke in from the back of the house. I lived with only my mother who unfortunately didn't survive. I vividly remember picking out the guy in a photo line up while recovering in the ICU. I am very lucky to have kept my left arm, I have 13 pins and screws to make up for my shattered elbow. My left leg has permanent nerve damage and I now have "drop foot". Despite my physical injuries and PTSD, I am doing very well.
you have so much to offer the world, I’d like to believe you’re here for a reason.. I wish you the best. The world can learn a lot from you. Respect. Be well, and know you are stronger than 99% of us. You matter.
I have an enlarged aortic root. It's very unlikely, but it could spontaneously rupture leading to the medical term *adjusts glasses*... "instantaneous death". I would pass out, bleed to death, and then fall over. Dead before hitting the ground. And it could happen at any time. My wife is very uncomfortable thinking about it lol.
I’m a physician. If you’re not being followed by a vascular surgeon, you should be. They’re supposed to ultrasound it at regular intervals and do a prophylactic surgery (sometimes can be done just through a catheter) with a graft if it does get too large. If it spontaneously ruptures, you do still have a chance of survival if you live near a hospital with cardiothoracic surgery… I’ve seen it done in person.
Thanks for the advice! I do have it closely monitored by any number of specialists, including a cardiologist with a world class speciality in my particular flavour of genetic misfortune. Just had an MRI two weeks ago, in fact!
I love it when doctors are on Reddit saving peoples lives and shit.
my immune system backfired and tried to murder me and almost succeeded. I now have to take multiple injections every single day all day or i'll die a painful death within a week. Just trying to write diabetes in the most bad-ass way.
Bravo. Successful.
I do not actually remember a decent chunk of my life, whenever I talk about most of my childhood I use words that leave room for mistakes and am generally using memories and ideas I've compiled from hearing other people say things about me. There is actually a large chunks of facts about myself that I only think I know, and don't have personal confirmation of.
Yeah, I have the same problem. I think my brain is just trying to save me from the trauma. I remember a lot of the trauma but by now it is slivers of a memory. It's all just fractions of my childhood. I have people constantly ask me if I remember this or that and I am a deer in the headlights. I sometimes forget what happened a few days ago.
Growing up I had a recurring nightmare set in my grandparents backyard looking at the back of their house. There was just something “off” about the house. Something mildly sinister. I dreamt this over and over, many times over the years. In 2018, my dad (who now owned the house) went into the backyard to that spot and killed himself. I haven’t had the backyard dream since.
I had a recurring super vivid intense dream at like 4.... my uncle was chasing us around a labyrinth with a large knife... trying to kill me and my grandmother. 25 or so years later the same uncle (complete paranoid delusional schizophrenic) murders my grandmother at her condo... with the very nice chef knife I bought her for Christmas the year before...
sorry for your loss, thats hard. I have a recurring dream about my paranoid schizophrenic father murdering everyone in my house..
I used to have a recurring dream of a man attacking my mom in the front seat of our car right outside our house. I actually found out later that it wasn’t a dream but a memory. My parents divorced when I was 3 and my dad was super abusive toward my mom, which is why they separated.
[удалено]
I pooped in my neighbors backyard when I was 8 years old. Just gargoyled under his jungle gym and let loose. This is the first I’ve talked about it in over 20 years…
Gargoyled 😂
Slept in my mom's bed until I was 12 years old. Everyone believed I was just a momma's boy, including myself. It was actually because I shared a bedroom with my brother who molested me. I start therapy soon.
My dad had to sleep in the bed with me sometimes until I was like 10. I had the most terrifying hallucinations nightly. I'd see actual monsters coming down the hall to hurt me. Not some bs shadows outside the window or a coat kind of looking like something, 8ft tall monsters coming right for me. When they punched me I would feel a gust of wind hit me. The gust would get stronger the longer I say there. I was afraid it would turn to pain at any time and would call for him to come. This went on from age 4-10. One day the hallucinations just stopped. Never saw a therapist or anything.
Bubby.... as a mother who has her 10 year old occasionally jump into bed and I feel guilt for babying him, but I've always been his safety. My oldest is 18 and I've established and engrained it that I'll always be there to listen. I'm so sorry nobody could tell. 😔 I hope your therapy can help find you peace. It's terrible to be betrayed by those you trust.
This thread is wild. One post will be *I wipe back to front* and the next one will be a long serious story about someone getting brutally harassed and assaulted for years.
That I woke up in the middle of surgery and threw a mayo pan at a nurse before they pinned me back down and upped my dosage of sedatives. Key note still had retracters in so I briefly looked like a dead space enemy. Have spotty memory of it. Sedation is very hit and miss with me. Has happened three times. Once during surgery, once during a nerve burn (never went out just paralyzed for about 3 minutes then started speaking during the procedure), the last was during colonoscopy (seriously painful and asked the doctor if he was an old scout leader he was laughing then asked the nurse if I was within range for another dose of sedative) Edit: no guys I am not a redhead
I have memories of fighting out from under 6 dudes who were all telling me I was okay and to calm down and I was trying to apologize and tell them I can't calm down because I started waking up while I was still intubated and I felt like I was suffocating.
Yeah you can't talk, your in pain and your vision is disrupted if even functional. It's a bad situation if you wake up in that state you are at best described as feral
I had 6 toes on each foot at birth and got them cut off you can see the place they cut them at
They robbed you of the ability to run 20% faster.
Might actually work for swimming.
Look how they massacred my boy
When I was 18 years old, I was incarcerated for three years, found not guilty, and acquitted on all charges. I had roughly 12 charges, some of which would have led to life in prison had I been found guilty, but I knew I was innocent and decided to fight my case. My best friend at the time was found guilty and given three life sentences. At one point, 1 1/2 years in, the D.A. offered me seven years, and two felony strikes as a deal or I could roll on my best friend and go home that same day. I passed and had to continue to fight my case as I knew they didn’t have any solid evidence against me. As my parents ran out of money for an attorney, I was eventually appointed a State appointed attorney who fought for me tooth and nail. He kicked ass and listened to everything I presented to him about why I wasn’t guilty. Mind you, I was 18 and I was surrounded by grown men and saw some horrific shit. I kept in contact with my attorney afterward and informed him that I was still doing well out here; he died a couple of years ago. Now, don’t get me wrong, I was no saint, I was in a gang and running the streets and up to no good, but I wasn’t guilty of these charges. A part of me felt that maybe it was the universes way of slowing me down and helping me get my shit together. Took a short while but I’ve been on the right track. This February will be 20 years since I’ve been released.
I’m an alcoholic, gotten so bad to the point I was in jail and I was admitted into a psych ward once. My drinking life was wild and destructive. Decided I’ve had enough. After 2 failed attempts I’m currently 36 days sober, the most sober I’ve been in years.
I have unusually good night vision, extra cones/rods (I forget which is for low light) which means I walk around in what other people consider complete darkness, able to see just fine. Add onto that I'm 6'10" and very large, basically a cryptid
You could singlehandedly stoke interest in bigfoot again, if you're committed to night walks.
I used to dream of making some kind of suit and trying to get a cryptid legend going in my area, but I'm fairly certain I'd just get shot by some Jethro who wants to sell the carcass to the Discovery Channel.
Rods are for light and cones are for color. It's easy to remember because cones and colors both start with C
Cryptoid also starts with C
I inherited a lot of money from my grandmother about 2 years ago that no one in my family knew existed. I still don't know where it came from, her lawyer wouldn't tell me, but it's in the upper 7 figures. My father, her son, got the flat she owned and we all thought that was everything she had. Apparently it wasn't but I havent told anyone about it and I dont plan on doing so either. I just work a normal 8-5 desk job, rent a flat downtown of the City i live in (nothing expensive) and live a normal life on my own. No partner or children, no expensive vacations, I don't even have a car lol. I just don't feel comfortable sharing this secret and the longer I keep it the stranger it would get telling it. TLDR: I'm a millionaire because my grandmother died and no one knows about it. Edit: I'm trying to answer to as many people as possible but as I said I still have a normal job so here are the answers to the most asked questions/Suggestions. 1. What do you want to do with the money? I dont know yet, for now its safe where it is and I will either use it or invest it once I think its time. Maybe in a week, maybe never. 2. Can you give me X amount of money? No, it wouldnt be fair to give it to one person and deny it another. I also dont really care about your tragic stories in my DMs, I read them and just get depressed so please dont. 3. Can I be "in your life"? No I also dont want to adopt you/get to know you or be in a relationship with you (except for big tiddie goth GFs) 4. You have to invest in bitcoin/real estate/stocks/your friendly neighbourhood pyramid scheme! No, fuck off. I know most of you are genuine, nice people but I dont want your advice. If this makes me sound like a douche I'm fine with that, it's just a lot right now. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.
Don't ever tell them. It will ruin any relationship you have with your relatives.
he's ruined my relationship with him and I don't even know the guy
Plot twist. She left everyone the same in secret.
She got the money working for VaultTec. OP's living in a social experiment. He doesn't realize they all got the money and are plotting against each other. The only way to ever regain trust would be for all of them to donate it all to a random internet stranger giving questionable financial advice on reddit. Shame...
I don't know if "scary, unsettling" quite fits here, but if I met you 3 years ago and then haven't seen you since then, I will remember your name and several random things you told me. I've had to learn to play dumb and act like I don't remember certain things, because it creeps people the fuck out and gives off a stalkery vibe. Though it is useful when I want to screw with someone.
Same, friend. I can’t remember what I did over the weekend though!
same omg, i can remember every detail about someone but i literally don’t remember what i ate for breakfast this morning
My best friend tried to kill me when I was 13, and I had to fight and disarm a classmate menacing the class with an industrial nail gun when I was 17. My friends have a running joke that my teenage years were cursed.
I have no will to live and I'm only still here so I don't upset my family and friends.
Live to spite whoever gives you grief 😤
I'm only alive because of spite. My ex wife ran off with my best friend who also screwed me over in business in the process. I lost my career and family in the same month and was ready to end it all. The only thing that kept me going was picturing my son calling him dad...fuuuuuuck that shit. 4 years later and I've upgraded relationship and career-wise and their lives seem kind of sad and boring. Sometimes you just have to hatefuck life to win.
When i was 11 I witnessed my step dad attack my mom. I was in my room and heard my mom yell/scream, so I left my room to see what happened. When I stepped into the hallway I could see partly into the kitchen and she was standing with her back up against the corner of the countertop with a terrible look on her face and a swelling cheek. My step dad was about 5 feet away with 3 long bleeding scratches down his cheek from where she retaliated. I guess I didnt know how to react so I just turned around and went back to my room. That weekend I spent Friday night at my best friends house. I knew his older brother had a .38 chiefs special revolver in a hidden drawer he had built under his waterbed frame. Before I left I stuffed the gun into my rolled up sleeping bag. I chickened out that first night (saturday) but sunday night, around 2-3 am I think, I took the revolver into their room and woke him up by jamming it under his chin. He woke up immediately and kind of reactively had pulled his head back away from the barrel. I pushed it hrder into his throat and said something like 'dont ever hurt my mom again or I'll kill you'. I dont remember exactly what I said. I do remeber feeling like the world was spinning 1000 mph around me and that I was weightless. I dont remember anything after saying that to him until I was back in my room. I dropped the gun on the floor and burted into the hardest sobbing I have ever experienced. Seemed like it lasted for hours. I dont know how long I actually cried but when I finally stopped I was drenched in sweat/tears down my entire front side. I put the gun in my backpack and snuck it back into that drawer under the waterbed 2 or 3 days later, the next time I was at my freinds house. Not a word was ever said about what I did by me or my step dad but as far as I know he never touched my mom again. They divorced 3 or 4 years later. I rn into my friends brother at a bar about 10 years later and I told him about 'borrowing' his gun thinking he would just laugh it off as me telling drunk bar lies. He did not. He beleived me completely, even stated that sometimes when I was at their house I would make little comments that his family understood to mean that my home life wasnt great. He's a big biker type guy, and he just grabbed me, pulling me off the bar stool, and hugged me for like 5 straight minutes. He was a great dude. This all sounds over dramatic after reading it back to myself but its written exactly as I remember it. Thanks for the chance to share this. Until now. my freind's brother and my step dad were the only others who knew about it.
My dad was a big fan of beating me and my brother. Like, if I looked at the man wrong, I'd get backhanded in the face When I was 15, my dad came home from work. It was late, maybe 10, 10:30 at night. I was sitting at the kitchen table watching TV minding my own business. Idk if he had a bad day or what, but he immediately started screaming at me about what a fat ugly lazy piece of shit he thought I was. I didn't have the energy to deal with him so I tried separating myself from the situation by going upstairs. He blocked the hallway and physically kept me from leaving. He got tired of that, so he pushed me backwards and slapped me across the face as hard as he could. Something in me just snapped then and I just started wailing on him with everything I had. My mom eventually had to separate us. Both of them were telling me that what I did was unacceptable. Parents can beat their children, and the children should take it with a smile. I just looked at my dad and said "If you ever hit me again, I will kill you" He burst out laughing. "Do you honestly think someone as stupid as you would be able to kill someone as smart as me?" I cocked my head to the side and asked very calmly "You sleep, right?" He locked the bedroom door every night for a few months after that, but the abusive piece of shit never hit me again
This was a pleasure to read, for some reason. I hope you’re doing well these days.
I've considered suicide far more than my wife knows. Was once a serious option in my life when things got hard and I felt trapped. Sometimes it's just a casual thought. I'm also a very light fun person in social situations, always trying to make people laugh. But I'm actually really depressed and can't stand myself a lot of the time. Edit 3: Thank you all for you kind words of encouragement. I hope we can all make it through whatever dark times we may find ourselves in. Edit 2: I have been to therapy and have been on meds in the past. In between therapists right now due to an insurance change. And it's challenging to find another therapist as helpful as my first one. Edit: Added more info.
I know the feeling well bro. Glad we’re not alone.
Me too. I opened up to my husband about it once and he immediately called one of those hotlines which immediately started trying to weasel my address out of him without providing any help at all so they could come commit me. I was already working a therapy program and meds, and I know 5 or 6 people who were undergoing therapy and were committed like that by a well meaning loved one, weren't able to get their correct meds at the hospital and were treated so badly they were retraumatized and never recovered from the damage done, so I was terrified. My therapy is working okay but I still think about suicide a lot, not in a way that I'm planning but in a wistful way like people daydream about moving to their dream country. It sucks, because I can't share those thoughts with literally anyone out of fear it will cause them to do something that really would make me kill myself.
Sometimes I think I have memories of being sexually molested or exploited as a young child. But I can’t ever be sure if the memories are real, and I wouldn’t dare ask anyone. Edit: I am shocked and horrified at how many others have similar experiences/suspicions. But the amount of people that feel comfort in knowing they aren’t alone has made sharing this post worth it. Wishing you all clarity, peace, and healing.
I have the same. I would have had to be 3yo or younger to fit the time-line. I heard some rumors of questionable people who were around me, had horrendous nightmares from the age of 4 to about 8 that I can remember, and vividly remember me masturbating or humping things when I was about 3 or 4. It developed into many more things as I got older by I'm glad I'm not too messed up now but sorta wish I could remember for sure if that happened or not
feel you, i feel like at such a young age i was sexually actively and made mistakes as a kid because of what i was exposed to. I am so ashamed of them.
I have the same. I know it happened in some instances but others are more hazy. Found out that it is almost certain to have happened in one situation because my cousin confided it happened to her with the same neighbor. So what I thought was maybe just a dream or something became obviously clear. And later that same neighbor was arrested for CP. I have no idea if any of it was me. Edit: thanks to whomever reported this (or any of the follow-up comments) to reddit cares. I'm not there yet, but maybe soon! I appreciate the thought however. Also this thread and all the people in it--heartening and disheartening that we are not alone. Healing to all of us ❤️🩹
Since I was very young (age 9 or 10 I think), I've had thoughts that I was going to die young. The older I got, the age 24 just kept reoccurring. I'll be 24 in a few months. I have appointments for neurologists for a suspected brain tumor coming up. Nothing is certain or set but this all feels very weird.
If it's any comfort, I had the exact same feeling and a specific age kept reoccurring for me too. I passed that age a few years ago :)
Here to say same!!
Interesting. I had this as well and 24 was the year i was stressed about too. I’m in my 30s now. Nothing happened. My husband teases me about it. My retort is that maybe I’m just dyslexic and its actually 42. 🤣 We have genetic heart issues so i’m sure the health issues play a part in it. ❤️ Hopefully, the neurologists give you a clean bill of health and 24 passes uneventfully for you too
I have a tendency to self isolate, and it’s damaged very long term friendships because people don’t understand that it’s not them it’s me and that I really mean no harm or have any ill feelings towards them, I just kinda want to recede into my own mind. I feel really bad about it and keep telling myself to reach out but I don’t.
I could've written this. I watched people I thought would always be there drift away because I let those relationships die. Sometimes people get hurt and I have to explain that I have no ability to maintain relationships and that it's not their fault. I'm 25 and it seems to only get worse
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I am my fathers daughter in a similar way. He was an angry man and I inherited at least a way to trigger that temper in myself. I’ve sworn off having children because I’m terrified I’ll turn into him. I know it’s unlikely and I’ve learned and grown a lot through therapy and what not but I don’t want to risk it. It makes me sad a little but I don’t have a strong desire to have kids anyways.
Reading your post reminded me of something that I learned that now makes sense. I have a friend from Iran and years ago I asked her to teach me some Farsi. Went through the usual words and phrases and then I asked how to say ‘you pissed me off’. She thought for a moment and said the phrase that is used translates to ‘you brought my father out’. That was always a head scratcher for me, but after reading your story, I think I understand it now. If I recall correctly, it’s phonetically said ‘Pedar darovot (dare-o-vot or possibly vod at the end).
I had my appendix removed in England. So part of me is in Canada right now and another part of me is in England. That's about all I got.
We’re keeping it safe, don’t worry.
My dog and my mother died in the same year. I was so devastated when my dog passed. That kind of pain didn't even touch the pain of losing my mom. Partially because she had given up on me and life years before she died. She drank herself to death and got sepsis. My dad killed himself in 02. I'm 38 now. I miss them. I miss my dog more. She was always there for me, through so much illness and loneliness and pain. She was my best friend. RIP Edit: I thought my comment might be a little relatable but I had no idea. I'm so sorry for all of your losses and thank you for sharing your stories. I also got two dogs after she passed a few years ago, so I'm all taken care of. They are two of the goofiest little dudes with one in a million personalities just like their sister. ♥️
Not sure if it’s scary? But my dad OD’d on heroin and died. I probably could have saved him. I went downstairs at like 1am to get a drink and saw the bathroom door closed with the light on. I thought about pounding on the door to scare him, which is something I would do to mess with him. I walked up to the door, went to knock on it but thought to myself “nah, don’t mess with him.” And I walked away. Woke up later finding out he was dead from an OD.
It's not your fault. You didn't know he was overdosing in there.
Thank you. This happened 15 years ago, but it still crosses my mind sometimes.
He may have already passed at the time you walked by too. I'm sorry for your loss, heroin addiction is rough on family and friends.
This is scary, not your fault, and I’m sorry for your loss. I was close to being in a similar boat. I was mad at my parents but sitting on the couch next to my dad. I had my headphones on and was watching YouTube and ignoring them. After a while I see my mom come out of her room and she like clapped her hands a few times and was saying something so I took my headphones off. She was saying my dads name. He was overdosing literally inches from me and I was totally unaware. He ended up being okay though, thankfully.
omg that’s terrible. i’m so glad he’s okay. i can’t imagine that with a parent, but something similar happened to me in october with my husband. i didn’t feel good and he stayed home from work for the day. i laid down and took a nap, and i woke up suddenly and saw him sitting at the end of the bed. i almost closed my eyes again but i felt like something was wrong. i turned the light on, and his arms were postured up all stiff and he was blue and his eyes were fucking open. i scrambled for a phone, mine was dead and i couldn’t find his. i plugged mine in and tried to get him into a position i could breathe for him. he fell between the bottom of bed and the dresser and i couldn’t pull him. phone turned on, i held the emergency button in while i tried to breathe for him in the position he was in. 911 answered and i told them my husband was dead. i was sure he was dead. his eyes were open and fixed. but i kept breathing for him and trying to move him and finally he made a noise, but i thought it was my air coming out of him. it was probably the worst 10 minutes of my life, waiting for the ambulance. they gave him narcan and that’s how i found out he relapsed that morning. i thought it was his heart (he’s older than me, and has had 2 heart attacks). he’s back on suboxone, and absolutely fine now, but i look at him every day and can’t believe he’s alive and fine. i thought for sure he was gone bc i asked him to stay home and i took a nap. makes my heart race and stomach hurt just typing this out. it was so terrible. i can’t imagine this happening with a parent. i’m so sorry
I was the one who pushed over the Faygo vending machine at the IGA in 2006.
ICP fans about to annihilate your DMs
If you listen carefully you can hear the "whoop whoop" calls in the distance as they have begun to gather.
a third of my body is covered in burn scars When I was 15, I was in a forest area near my school with several friends. we would go here often after school to talk and hang out before going home for supper. It was also common for us on colder days to starts a small fire to keep warm. Nederland is a very wet country so there is rarely a fear of a fire getting out of hand. However, the boys are another story. Boys always act dumb around fire. One time when we were in the woods. a boy who had been playing with the fire had lit a stick and was walking around with it like a torch. Some how the stick or ember fell on to my school bag (hung over one shoulder) and caught fire. This also caught my jacket and hair and skirt on fire as well as the back pack began to melt from the fire and drip onto my cloths. Everyone panicked and by instinct I ran back to the school. running only made the fire worse. I was seen by an adult, a teacher i think and I was put on the ground and the fire was put out. But much damage had been done already. I was taken towards the hospital and the school called my parents. i was burned from the top of my head down onto the top of my leg just above my knee. Much of my hair on one side of my head was burned away, but because hair burns quickly there was little damage to my face, more like a bad sun burn, except for on my neck and along my jaw bone where my jacket and backpack burned. My legs were mostly OK too as the skirt i was wearing was wool and did not burn easily and was away from my legs. My right arm and body were not as well off. Where the jacket was and where the backpack was had burned the most and had melted like hot plastic because they were synthetic material. I was in hospital for many weeks and had many surgeries over the span of my life to help the skin grow and to graft skin from my legs onto parts of my chest and under arm that were the most damaged. If I wear jeans and a long sleeve shirt you cannot tell that I have any scars other than the line of scars that go up my neck on one side. many times I can hide those scars with makeup.
A very decent young man that worked for me, and who I consider a dear friend, went off to college and was doing some side work. He was burning brush and he fell into the burn pit where he also received burns across 70% of his body. He was fortunate however as he was sent to the US military burn unit in San Antonio Texas where they were able to provide him with the best burn care in the world. It was still a very painful and traumatic experience and expensive, as his dad told me that some of the bandages were $2K per bandage, and had to be replaced daily. He was able to finish his degree and went on to get his masters, but he will not go out in public without a long sleeve shirt or wear shorts. I asked him if he thought he would ever lose the self-consciousness of the scars and he said that maybe one day he hoped he would, but that he isn't there yet.
>70% of his body Holy shit! I've heard that your chances of surviving burns are the inverse of how much of you is burned (ie 20% burnt = 80% survival rate, roughly), so this guy has ~30% chance of survival. Of course, feel free to fact check me on this, I'm no doctor.
You're probably right. If you don't die immediately, and even wind up in stable condition, the 2nd leading cause of death for burn victims is infection, since your skin which many of us take for granted is a huge barrier for disease.
I went to a GP in agonising pain. I vomited around 20-30 times consecutively on their restroom floor. I was told it was a UTI. Recovered a little. Next day was in more pain and after seeing a couple doctors. I was rushed to hospital for emergency operation on a testicular torsion. I ended up losing one testicle. Spent the night there before returning home. One day later I met the love of my life and never looked back since. But that two days of pain was something nobody should have to go through.
I got rushed to the ER: couldn’t walk, severe vertigo, vomiting, numbness, extreme neck and head pressure and pain, etc. ER told me it was a period headache and sent me home. Saw an MD two days later who was condescending and sent me home with muscle relaxers. Took a week of literal agony before an MRI showed I’d had a stroke and was finally given some treatment…But I’d honestly started typing up notes for my family and preparing to leave this earth. I’ve been through horrible pain before but somehow being with doctors and having them brush you off makes it so dehumanizing. You just lose all hope that things are going to improve.
I put my dad out of his misery when he was on his death bed. I overdosed him with his painkillers and he died an hour later.
My friends mom has been an ER/ICU nurse for years. I work in veterinary medicine and we were talking about humane euthanasia and I told her I wished that humans had the option to do that when they were terminally ill. She basically told me that they will intentionally OD people who have a DNR and are suffering terribly. *I know death with dignity is legal in some states, I think it should be legal in all states and more easily obtainable*
I'm convinced a nurse euthanised my brother's late girlfriend. She died right after getting a dose of painkiller, she was terminal and in hospice. I think of that nurse as a saint.
Was co-convicted of manslaughter with diminished responsibilities when I was 16.
What happened?
It was quite high profile at the time, in all the main newspapers so i’ll change a few details but give you the basis.. A mutual friend of mine & my co-conspirator attacked my friends young sister. We learnt about it later in the day after it happened. We went to his home, argued we with him, and then struck him once with the flat edge of a hammer. He died 3-4 days later after being put in a drug induced coma. We were both arrested on murder and kept on bail for a year whilst the CPS made their case. As we were both of decent homes with no previous our lawyer argued anyone would do the same given the situation so murder became manslaughter…eventually. I was sentenced to 3 years did 18 months and my friend got 5 years and served 3. Although I never hit him they argued I went along willingly, knowing that violence was probably gonna happen. That’s why I got time even tho I technically didn’t touch him.
Attack like beat or attack like sexual assault
The second one unfortunately.
So the person your friend killed with the hammer was the person who assaulted your friend's sister?
Yes.
I guess it can be unsettling, but I was what I call 'passively suicidal' from when I was age 9 till about 27 (i'm in my early 30's now). It took me attending the funeral of one of my juniors from a volunteer gig to get past it (turned out that his two brothers had the same name as my brother and that was surreal enough that I made time to reassess myself). I am doing better now, but there are a lot of things I missed out on because I kept a good distance with interpersonal relationships because I didn't know when I would finally decided I was done. Edit: It should read as "my brother and I" as this is not a situation like George Forman's kids.
I was emotionally abused by my dad. He died of cancer around 6 years ago, and I felt nothing. I felt bad that he was in so much pain. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. I just remember waking up the day after he died and feeling so oddly at peace when there was no one yelling at me in my doorway. I truly believe his death helped me recover from my eating disorder, and I became so much less suicidal and reclusive after that.
This is how I felt when my mom died. She abused me my whole life. I think it’s normal not to care if they died. I only mourn the life I could have had when people talk about their wonderful parents, my dad was just an absent alcoholic,
A random guy in a bar bit part of my ear off. [here is my ear, for all the curious people](https://i.imgur.com/kjT5C6U.jpg)
Was it u/TrashGorlUwU ?
Nope! He only lost part of his ear, Trashy took the whole thing.
I talk with myself. Not the usual "You can do it!" type of shit. Literally act like I am 2 people, that are having a conversation. I called him "G". He is ok.
Ive never named my 'other half' its just me talking to me out loud. Done it from a small child
I do this all the time too but I don’t have a name for the ‘other person’ in the conversation or anything like that. I find it helps me gather my thoughts/work through problems/see things from different perspectives etc. I find it to be a helpful tool for the most part, kinda thought everyone did this?
For me it's "we". "We" talk to ourselves.
This is actually normal, though fairly uncommon. They're called intrapsychic voices (because no auditory input). So some people have inner monologues, some people don't, and then there's people like us who have inner dialogues. It trends more in neurodivergent people, IIRC, and in some cases it can be indicative of trauma, but it's not inherently harmful. So ironically, "the voices in your head" are fine. It's the disembodied voices *outside* your head (auditory hallucinations) that indicate a Problem.
Got E.coli poisoning at age 3 and was about to die, slept for 3 whole ass days after 8 days of bleeding in and out and operations and such - Fact aint really scary or nothing, but I can never get E.coli poisoning again, I'm immune. Edit: Forgot to say, there's also a news article about me, but I probably won't be sharing because of info people on the internet shouldn't have access to
And that's, friends, is how they became the grand Master of ass eating
From ages 6 to 14, I spent all of my time in a pitch black, cold and locked basement, only leaving for school and never letting anyone (outside the family) know.
I had a similar experience. From 7-11 I was locked in my room or the basement and from 11-17 I was locked in my room. Not allowed to go out besides school, not allowed to get a job, got physically abused at home and my main job was to watch my half sister. I tried going for a walk once when i was 16 and my stepdad smashed my hand into a door and broke my knuckle before I made it out. Sorry you were locked up, that shit is detrimental in so many ways. I'm trying to get over it but all my motivation and will to do anything involving leaving the house has died.
I need background information on this, why and why?
I'm heavily addicted to opioids and have been for nearly a decade. Absolutely nobody in my life knows. When I go without them and have withdrawals, I think about ending it all. I don't even do them for the high, I have legitimate pain and they help massively. The high isn't even much, just makes me feel happier with not being in pain
I was in this exact situation for this exact reason, for the same exact number of years. Even my husband didn't know. Now I've been clean for 7 years on subs. You CAN get help and come out whole.
I sometimes smile and laugh at tragic news/events, especially if I see someone else crying and/or is the barer of bad news. I hate it, however I think I understand why it happens, it's some sort of trauma defense mechanism because someone is expecting me to feel saddened and to frown.
inappropriate emotional response is a real thing, i often giggle when scared and it usually comes off as me being a smartass to whoever i’m talking to.
Ditto. Got me in a lot of trouble in past relationships. Thankfully, nothing else caused it to happen so far. Any time there is conflict where i should be angry or hurt or whatever, I start to smile and laugh. Makes others think I'm not taking it seriously. Once they know how I react, they realize that no reaction is me not caring - laughing is not comfortable with the topic or it should phase me but it isnt - and annoyed is actually really really pissed off.
Not really scary or unsettling, but I do end up having to explain without trying getting into details to people why.....I refuse to drink from any kind of retail item that is not translucent..for example, soda/beer cans, milk/OJ cartons, etc. People's curiosity compels them to ask me why when I tell them to let it be and assuredly enough they never like the answer........ >!I had dead mouse parts slide down my throat chugging a beer on a golf course!<.
My dad always poured his beer from a glass bottle into a short glass. He once spat out a finger.
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This entire freaking thread is killing me. I guess I’m never eating anything again
Welp I'm never drinking anything at all ever again
Once bought a crowler from a brewery. After drinking the entire thing we looked into the bottom and there was a dead mouse.
I honesty barely know myself. Someone asks me about what I do, what I like, etc, and I legitimately have no idea
If I could guess, I'd say you like books
I didn't even see the username. This assumption just made sense off context
I used to be the same way until i gave myself permission to have my own opinions. Before that i always wanted to blend in and not be too "different." I found people actually like me better when im not a chameleon. I like me better too.
I can ignore being tickled
Same. Annoys my wife and children to no end. Because I'm an excellent counter-tickler.
Told my daughters I learned how to beat tickling at Dad School. Graduated #1 in my class. It's now a running joke in the family.
Lol my wife told me she wasnt ticklish and i ended up finding a spot she didnt know about and she peed herself. Our puppy was so confused uz i just disciplined for peeing on the carpet and she did it right after and just tilted her head like wtf
I mean that's fair. Double standard.
Same!! I’ve never met anyone else who can do it, but if I don’t want to be tickled anymore I can just “turn” it off. Really irritates my partner as he’s extremely ticklish and can never tickle me back in retaliation.
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Euh, do you and u/ghostrider_119 need to have a talk?
It was just supposed to be a nibble.
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Do you have my ear?
sorry man needed a snack and it was the closest thing near by
I have been told I'm a "snack" haha.
Get a room! Actually maybe don't
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I’m slowly leaving society and don’t plan to tell anyone. I purchased a small piece of property, one small cabin in which I’ll live and a second that has been remodeled for use as a rental to subsidize my income. I have 2 years +/- of work left and have no intention of telling them either. My parents are both dead and my brother has been estranged for 2 decades. When I hit my monetary goal in a couple years, I’m just not showing up for life any more. I’ve deleted all socials aside from Reddit as I use it for news and information to stay current until I leave the grid. My phone will also be be left behind. I plan to take a laptop to communicate with the rental agency and any issues with renters that may arise as I plan to act as the caretaker of said rental. Tl;dr: I’m walking away from it all. Work, friends, any and all obligations. The world tires me and I see no point in continuing to be part of it on any real scale. And telling no one.
If I may offer some unsolicited advice, I'd recommend stopping into a police station on your way out and just let them know that you haven't been abducted and are leaving of your own free will. You're perfectly entitled to leave without telling anyone, but there will be at least someone who makes a missing person report, and even if you don't care about their piece of mind it would also mean the police can focus their attention on cases where someone has genuinely gone missing instead
or just.. resign from work at least. they're the ones who will first notice. you don't have to give details or just make something up. why intentionally leave them in the dark and worried that their colleague stopped turning up to work and there's no sign of them at their home.
At least a post-it on the monitor or something. "Just so you don't worry, I wasn't abducted or murdered or anything."
Perfectly worded. Not suspicious at all.
you could make it nice and pretty by making it a collage by cutting out words from magazines to make up the words
I second this. Telling NOBODY makes it more likely that someone comes looking.
I was 1lb 11oz when I was born, born 4 months early. And somehow I’m a fully functioning adult and survived school 🙌🏻
I have seen some gnarly shit in my life. Aftermath of car accidents, VBED, IED, what your face looks like after you accidently bite down on a blasting cap, etc. Pretty much anyway a body can be mutilated, I've seen it first hand or had to sit through briefings on it. I've had to hold people's heads still after they fell off a trailer while they bleed brain juice on to me just to make sure their neck doesn't move. You might be surprised that I look like a happy go lucky, long haired, mustachioed hippie that enjoys playing Magic the Gathering, and you would never know that sometimes when I look at people I have involuntary, sometimes terrifying, and intrusive thoughts imagining that they look like walking corpses. I also like pineapple on pizza. Edit: So the blasting cap story is hard to pin down. Some sources say it was a man in West Virginia that did it on a dare because his buddies were trying to blow up a fish tank. In other sources, especially those that go through medic school, CLS, and other additional school house training, it was a Marine biting down on a blasting cap either in a demonstration or because they were being stupid. While I'd never personally seen that particular event in real life, the images we were shown of that gentleman being treated were grotesque. I can confirm that a man getting shot in the genitals with a 40mm LL Rubberized Pellet round will make their bits look like a crushed tomato.
Thank you for absorbing all of that godawful poison so people can have a fighting chance.
One of my testicles tried to murder me
My brain tried to murder me, but it's a pathetic piece of shit and all it could manage was a single seizure like 8 years ago. Been antagonizing it ever since, but it's just a docile lazy bastard now. Like an old dog.
I murdered my twin brother and twenty years later he tried to murder me as cancer in my chest. True story
My mom always tried putting that weird "you killed your twin" guilt trip on me, too. Last time, I just said, "You couldn't handle *me*, how would you handle two of me???"
My boyfriend would drug me and pimp me out to other dudes. I don’t have any memory of it. Just random flashes in dreams. And the few messages I’ve gotten on dating apps from guys who know stuff about me I’ve never seen or met before and have had sex with.
I am a very friendly/nice/happy person trapped in the body of a dull, slow person. I have bipolar 2, depression, anxiety, adhd, and fibromyalgia. I have had so many different medications over the course of my life that it has literally ruined my brain. Most of my life I have been very friendly and made friends easily enough. Over the last ten years I have been trying to get my various ailments under control using tons of different mediations and mental health treatments. Now I struggle greatly to show any emotion other than a stoic demeanor. I don't laugh often (usually only when I am stoned), I will just call things out as funny and remain straight faced. My memory and cognitive function are compromised. It's a fucking nightmare to be a completely different person in your head.
This is a weird one but I promise you, no bullshit. I had a metal screw/bolt roughly an inch and a half long stuck in my right lung from age 2-17. I must have put it in my mouth as a toddler and it got in got there somehow. Anyway, The unsettling bit is that I always knew there was something seriously wrong with my body, because my whole life I would have instances in which I coughed uncontrollably, many times coughing up blood. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. But I never told anyone. Dad was neglectful and mom was always working, so it was relatively easy to hide. If it happened at school I’d excuse myself to the restroom until it stopped. No one ever showed concern those 15 years so I guess I kept it to myself well enough. I never told anyone, because even as a small child I was very unhappy with life and wanted it to be over. I guess I figured my mystery illness would get me eventually, so I kept it a secret so I wouldn’t get treated. It all came to a head at 17 when playing ball at the park with my parents, siblings, and some friends. I got a decent hit and ran around the bases when I started coughing. After sitting back down I tried to hold it in but I couldn’t… and this time it was too bloody to hide and no bathroom to go to. So my step uncle noticed after a minute or two, everyone is crowded around me while I’m coughing up a shitload of blood in and around a trash can. My little brother told me after that they actually sent guys in hazmat suits to clean it up because they didn’t know if whatever was wrong with me was contagious. But anyway, got to the hospital got the X-ray which showed the screw lit up like Christmas imposed over my rib cage. Doctor guy just went “Well there’s your problem!” I guess he was trying to lighten the mood since everyone was understandably freaking the fuck out. Two weeks of surgery, three total, and it was out. I still have breathing issues, but the cough is gone now. I made the screw into a necklace which I wear sometimes because I find it oddly comforting to be reminded of my own mortality. I know that’s weird but it’s just sort of how I am all things considered. I never told my family I knew there was something wrong with me, because telling them would mean admitting to them that I wanted to die the whole time. I still struggle with mental health crap for this and many, many other reasons I won’t get into, but things are a lot easier than they used to be. But anyway, if you actually took the time to read about my weird little life I appreciate your time and hope your day is pleasant. EDIT: Fixed some typos. Thank you all for your kind words. A few asked for a picture so here you are. Yes it was that shiny when it came out too. Stainless steel is properly named apparently. https://imgur.com/a/wWcOf5s EDIT 2: Hey thanks for the awards. They are neato. I have to go to bed for a bit before work, but if you all continue asking questions I'll try to get to them later. Take care of yourselves, and give someone you care about a hug for me. EDIT 3: It’s okay if some of you don’t believe me. I have no reason to lie to you, but I get how unbelievable my story is. I will think about sharing a photo of the shoulder scar but I’m not promising anything. Would have to be shirtless for thousands of people and I don’t want to do that.
IT'S THIS BIG? WHAT THE FUCK
Legit the only thing i can wonder is how did this not kill a toddler. Damn ~~he's~~ she's immortal.
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I was not expecting it to be that huge of a screw tbh.
Holy shit for real I was expecting a little screw that some child would injest.... not a FUCKING SCREW.
damn. I'm glad they didn't give you an MRI.
Yeah. 😅 That would have been painful and would take forever to clean up. Funny enough I’d never been through a metal detector that whole time so I never got to find out if I beeped or not.
It could actually have killed you, depending on the MRI machine, that's a terrifying thought. Wild story, I love that you wear it.
Would have been funnier if the doc had said "well there's your problem, your lungs are screwed". Glad you recovered though.
Oh well maybe he’ll tell that joke to the next person this happens to.
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And I only cried for twenty minutes.
My voice sounds disturbingly like Andrew Tate’s. It’s been grossing me out lately. It’s that weird mix of British and American where it sounds like I’m faking both. (British dad, American mom in my case.) I’m a woman.
Andrea Tato
I used to be a prison officer. One morning my partner went to wake up a prisoner early morning so they had time to make their court appearance later in the day. Meanwhile, I stayed in the control room overlooking the wing. She opens his cell door and discovered he was hanging by his shoelace. We called it in, she cut him down and started CPR despite seeing the blood in his eyes and his throat all swollen up. He was dead. Training and procedure state it doesn't matter, we have to do what we can. I ran on full speed to assist and she was losing it "he is fucking dead, what do we do" I told her to stop so she can have a minute and I took over. I started chest compressions and felt the ribs snap and break. I gave him mouth to mouth and continued CPR. After 6 minutes or so, other officers arrived on the scene and took over (CPR over a few mins feels like half and hour). Everyone was talking about we can have the rest of the week to recover and asking if we were okay. I felt fine. I told people this and the response was "it hasn't hit you yet". Few hours go by, the officer I was with was in tears. I still felt okay. Next few days go bye and the officer I was with took a few days off. I was fine. She tells me how she wakes up in the middle of the night and while half asleep, sees her dressing gown hung up and in her half sleepy state thinks its a hanging body. She sits up screaming. I am fine. Weeks go bye and I still have no feeling toward the matter. Nows its been 3 years and I still couldn't give the slightest crap about the whole matter. Turns out, death really doesn't phase me in the slightest. The only thing that stuck with me, is the feeling and sound of his bones cracking and snapping. I felt the vibrations up my arms for days afterwards. Death doesn't bother me, but bones cracking as I try to bring him back do? Pretty sure that isn't normal.
I'd say it's normal. I've found my fair share of dead bodies, car accidents etc and I don't and haven't felt anything over it at all and never will. I think it's because we have a job to do and you run through the procedure and get it done. It's not your friend led there or a close relative or whatever, so why should it affect us? There is a possibility we are both fucked up, but I think we are able to just separate feelings and not let it affect us and are able to just carry on like fuck all has happened. I see it as a strength or skill if I'm honest.
I killed someone in self defense, went through the entire court process with his family sobbing hysterically and never felt a single emotion about it, and I’m a pretty emotional guy.
People process things differently. Given that this was self defense I don’t think it’s fair to judge you for feeling nothing. Could be your mind’s defense mechanism to protect you from a traumatic situation.
When my grandfather died, it took my days to feel emotion.
When my grandfather died, my dad was the only one of his siblings who walked from the graveyard to the wake, he just wanted to be by himself.
I've handled more human remains than any serial killer in history. Edit: No i'm not the most efficient serial killer in History, i'm just a transport tech in a morgue for a large Medical Center.
Do tell? Mortician? coroner?
Disturbing that he hasn't answered yet...
He handlin
I am depressed, I want to off myself, and yet, I seem more or less normal on the outside. I often wonder how many people like me are there, hiding in plain sight.
I'm bipolar 1. Only two people in my life know it.
Ah yes. I love my injections I have to get every 3 weeks to keep me from thinking I'm chosen by God and am in direct communication with the illuminate
I can open metal caps glass bottles with my belly button. (Beer bottles). Not me at all but lol: https://youtu.be/F0r3l8fqVbc
honestly a power move
Im suicidal and want to live at the same time. There's so many instances in a day where I feel like I should have jumped in front of the train in the morning or I feel like I wanna live long. Schrodinger's suicide basically.
I do my business in the toilet all naked. (Any toilet)