Microblog Memes

This whole thread could use a whole lot more of spoiler tags and Content Warning. And I shouldn't have read all these stories. Luckily, I noticed my anxiety soon enough and just stopped.

I have the suicide disease. The worse, TN2 version. That is not a sly term for mental illness, it's a nerve disorder that has pain so great that people kill themselves rather than face yet another day of it. I am rarely below 3 on the 1-10 pain scale (at 4 right now) and I've reached 10 more times than I can count. This is with medication keeping it at the level where I can function.

I am such a bad judge of pain that the trauma from my not realizing for half a week that I had kidney stones and not taking any painkillers and then being stuck first in a clinic and then the ER for 14 hours writing in agony until they finally decided I did, in fact, have kidney stones and gave me some fentanyl, caused severe trauma and gave me an eating disorder called ARFID, unrelated to body image issues, and I have not eaten solid food in a year and a half.

Explains a lot, doesn't it?

https://arizonapain.com/trigeminal-neuralgia-suicide-disease/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avoidant/restrictive_food_intake_disorder

Hey, you asked.

P.S. If you try to give me medical advice over the internet, I may just block you. I am so fucking sick of that. And no, "I know you said you didn't want medical advice, but..." does not count as a way around that. And I am fucking sick of having to say that and having people ignore it too.

My eye doctor murdered his boss's wife and waited on the couch beside her corpse for him to get home. He got beaten the shit out of before he could kill his boss and the cops arrested him shortly after the beating.

Just a few

• a childhood friend and neighbour got killed by his mother, his sister managed to flee the scene and call the cops
• my elementary school's director got arrested for paedophilia, he killed himself in his cell before getting judged
• my sister in law died in her sleep less than a meter away from me (a wall was between us still) and my partner and I were the ones to find her, I've had to call and tell her parents

This is probanly way too boring and mundane for this thread, but I can't feel hunger or fullness. (Never had a doctor look at it because it doesn't make my life worse)

My mom when I was a baby asked the doctor how much baby food I should be given after breastfeeding time was over. The doctor said "just give him enough, he will stop". After many jars of food, my mom had to stop because I wouldn't stop.

To this day I can feel my stomach expanding before I will stop. At my university all-you-can-eat cafeteria (back when I was super fit and tracked every calorie) I ate about 10kcal and didn't feel full so I stopped. I also did a 21 day water (and salt+vitamins) fast without that much trouble (but my mouth would still water and I would still have taste cravings)

Fucks up my relationship with food though because I eat when I am bored, just eat whatever is in front of me without realizing it, or if I am busy I will just forget to eat.

As I said, probably not really unsettling or scary, but not a fun fact lol.

I knew someone whose death was ruled a suicide. I also know their roommate wasn't where they said they were the night it allegedly happened.

And that's all I know.

One day, I missed a train. The next one had to stop one short of my home station due to "personell damages" or something similar, which I didn't really grasp, but I was annoyed that I had to take a detour to get home.

I later found out that a guy at my home station jumped in front of the train I was supposed to get.

I beat somebody into a coma with their own gun.

When I was a kid (like 14-15) I would go on gangstalking forums and try to convince schitzophrenic people I was following them.

When I was in the emergency services, I was first or among the first on scene to serious mass casualty events on multiple occasions. The most any of them got in the news was local papers and traffic disruption reports, because unless it's terrorism the nationals aren't interested. If any of us died in a car crash tomorrow, the world wouldn't care.

When I was a kid I found a bunch of puppies that had been skinned alive, I think I scared off whoever was doing it, one was half skinned and still alive and there was another one that had not been gotten to yet

I had a friend a few blocks away growing up and we'd walk over to each other's house all the time. One day when I was 9 or 10 I was walking home and there were a dozen cop cars outside a house. Next door to them was another kid we knew but who was a grade above us so we weren't close.

When I got home I told my parents about all the police at this house. They did some digging around and turns out the guy who lived there was a child molester. I didn't really know what that meant at the time other than it was bad.

I still hope that the kid who lives next door wasn't one of the victims.

Working in IT, I see far too many of your passwords, and you suck at passwords.

With that being said, if you use Windows and your hard drive isn't encrypted, it is ridiculously easy for me to break into your account, access all of your files and take full control of your computer.... Provided I can get physical access to it.

Stop using the same passwords for everything. Do you want to get "hacked" because that's how you get "hacked". Disclaimer, this isn't hacking, it's social engineering attacks with extra steps. The people trying to exploit you and steal your accounts put little to no effort into getting your stuff specifically. You just happened to get caught in their net.... Good luck, you're fucked.

Probably should have had a backup, and used a password manager huh?

Also it's ridiculously easy to lock yourself out of your own accounts by enabling 2FA/MFA. Most people have zero idea what is even involved in 2FA/MFA and the vast majority do everything in their power to turn it off. They would rather expose their account to the risk of it being taken over by some scammer, than be bothered to enter a six-digit code sometimes.

The reality is, as an admin, I can, with a fair amount of ease, monitor everything you do, when you do it and for how long you do it. The only reasons I don't is that 1. I'm pretty sure there are laws about it (but you'd have to prove I did it to have those laws enforced... GL, YF.) 2. Morally it's "wrong" to do so. And last but not least, I wouldn't give a single shit about what you do with your computer, whether it's a work machine, or personal system. Just don't make it my problem and we'll get along splendidly.

Also, the number of you people who use company laptops and cellphones for your personal correspondence and/or your only computer/phone is kinda ridiculous. Understand this: any company assets, and all the data held within, are wholly, immediately, irrevocably and perpetually, property of the company. So any texts, including sexts, dick pics, nudes, lude messages, personal banking info, emails sent to you personally,... All the data that is sent to, and stored on, the device that work provided to you, is property of the company.

Given that, and what I've seen when these devices are ripped from your hands when you inevitably leave the position, whether voluntarily or not, you all should be more ashamed of yourselves.

Y'all need Jesus or something. IDK, I don't believe in the guy, but you need something to straighten you out. Holy fuck.

I’ve been sick at home for a few days. I blew my nose into some toilet paper, checked, then tossed it in the toilet. Saw myself in the bathroom mirror and had snot all over my mustache.

Then it hit me. This isn’t the first time I’ve blown my nose with a mustache — it’s just the first time I’ve immediately looked in a mirror afterward.

Oh my god

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?!?!

When a friend of mine was a little kid, someone drove past, jumped out of their car, and ran over and grabbed him trying to kidnap him.

He was just confused about what the guy was even doing, but grabbed onto a chain-link fence and wouldn't let go, so the guy was yanking him and yelling at him to let go, but he was able to hold on. Eventually the guy gave up and ran back and sped away. While he was being yanked on the fence, he was worried because the ball he'd been playing with was rolling down the hill, and he was worried it would go somewhere he wouldn't be able to find it and he would lose his ball.

When the guy left, he went and retrieved his ball, psyched that he was able to get it back. He thought no more about it and kept playing, and then later that day told his mom about what happened.

She lost her mind. For some reason, he thought she had also been worried about the ball, and he kept telling her he'd been able to get it back after, so it was all good.

I had half of my face ripped off by a dog when I was a kid. Skin and flesh was just hanging off of my face and I almost lost my right eye.

Doctors did a great job patching me up and you can't even tell that anything happened unless you know where the super subtle scars are.

I used to be Mormon

I have stupidass heightened perception and seem to repeatedly find myself in extraordinary unbelievable (and often traumatic) situations which no one believes at first, because the situations are so absurd, and my silly brain rights itself so I seem "too okay" in spite of it all. Then I have to deal with it on my own until it directly impacts others and they cannot deny the situations exist. Then they act like shocked Pikachus (which is massively infuriating at times). This has been escalating throughout my life—in spite of the fact I do everything possible to keep my stupid little existence low-key and healthy. I'm working on accepting this.

After taking a car door to the head during heavy winds, I experienced immediate and recurring night terrors/sleep paralysis for two years. They started out pretty extreme, with me waking up on my stomach with some kind of creature pinning me to the bed. I'd struggle enough to lift my head a few inches, only to find my pillow was filled with distorted, open-mouthed faces stretching out at me from the material.

As time went in the hallucinations gradually waned in extremity, though never becoming anything comfortable. I would open my eyes to see a phosphorescent grid encompassing my walls, or millions of flies on my bedroom ceiling. Once my cat was staring up at them too, and I believed what was happening was real, only to wake up a moment later facing a different direction, and my cat fast asleep at my feet.

Eventually it's as though my soul became heavy or something. I slept on the top floor of a two-story home, with a very old colonial-era basement below it. I would constantly find myself one or two floors directly beneath my bed, all but glued to the ground and trying with all my might to crawl out of the damp, dark cellar toward the stairs, but too sluggish and/or paralyzed to do it. I felt terrified down there in the darkness. Eventually the adrenaline would wake me up safely in my bed.

Throughout the entire ordeal I would somewhat frequently open my eyes to see some sort of ghostly or transparent entity looming over my bed, leaning over or staring down at me. The last night I ever experienced an episode, I woke up to see that very entity, but I realized suddenly that the entity was me. It was me standing there, looking down at myself. I became angry. I felt like these episodes had ruined my life, and made sleeping something I no longer looked forward to. The rage came to a head. I activated every nerve in my body to try to break free of the paralysis. I gritted my teeth as I succeeded, groaning the words "FFFFRUUUUCKK YYRRROOOOUU!!!" as I bolted up from my bed and lunged through my own ghost. Then I never saw it again. In fact, I never had another night terror since. It's been years now. A decade at least.

I (aurally) witnessed a kindergartener get run over by her school bus. I was on a different bus and our bus drivers were talking over the radio, then there was this ungodly wailing from the other bus. The other bus driver just kept screaming "I killed her, I killed her".

Turns out the little girl barely missed the bus, ran alongside it to catch up, tripped, and fell under the wheels of the bus.

Once we got to high school, students on the killing bus were offered counseling. I, not being on the killing bus, didn't talk to anyone about it until I went to therapy decades later.

Yellow school buses freak me out still, for that and abuse reasons.

I was in a locker room three months ago minding my own business when this oddly looking guy next to me struck up a conversation. He looked old and incredibly skinny, but you could tell his face was younger. Maybe it's a skin condition like Ehlers-Danlos, I thought.

Well, the guy was in his early thirties and said the reason for his condition was that he had been recently freed by a cartel. He had been kidnapped for years, kept without food or proper hygiene, basically working as a slave. And then he showed me a picture of himself from three years ago on his phone. He has the incredible phisique of a Greek god, beautiful face, with a six pack and well developed muscles. And there he was, skinny, thin as a pencil and with loose, aged skin.

He recounted how he had used his smarts to survive. He had been forced to kidnap others, forged friendships with his captors and even made important suggestions to the leaders to create alliances with other cartels. He was damn good at the job making people fall into the trap, schmoosing the right people and getting out of situations. He said he was honestly one of the best they had, according to him.

He went on about how he had been tortured, kept in a cellar, worked tirelessly from dawn til dusk, and then released one day. And then he told me he he still had friends in the cartel to this day.

That's when I found a break 20 minutes in of this guy trauma dumping on me and I noped the fuck out of there with some bullshit excuse. Never in my life have I ever been so scared, sad, sorry and flabbergasted of someone recounting their life story.