When I used to be spiritual I had a very small cult following of 12 people whose extreme believe in my lies actually showed me how frigthening Religion is.
Go on…
By coincidence, I inherited the RAM and CPU from the work computer of a guy who later shot up my workplace. Luckily he was the only one killed in the shooting. I still use the kit from the shooter to run my home server.
Look up a 80’s movie called shocker. Bonus the bad guy is Skinner from the X-files.
Aren’t you worried that the ones and zeros that sent him mad could still be hidden as a transient memory just holding on inside a part of the RAM that you have up-to-this-point not made use of? What about if it’s just biding its time hiding, waiting for the right moment to come out?
Thanks, Stephen King
I used to be Mormon
I used to be jehovas witness. Hello cousin!
I used to be baptist. Hello fellow abuse victim.
I used to be catholic. I wasn’t abused, but I stopped going to church when I moved out.
I used to be a Jesus Freak. They were actually really nice.
I used to be an atheist. I still am but I also used to be.
Thanks Mitch 👍
You don’t have to be abused to still have a valid pride for removing yourself from the nonsense. Good for you!
I am a patron to several ancient and eldritch nature deities.
You’re their patron?
The guy who first showed me D&D when I was a kid went on to rape and murder a 90 year old woman who lived down the street during a botched robbery.
I bet he was searching for material components.
That’s because D&D is how you let the demons in, duh. How’s your possession going?
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
Yea it happens if you have facial hair unfortunately. Went for a meal with my family last night and drinks after. Got home and realised there was quite a bit of dried soup in my beard. I do normally check myself after eating in my phone camera but totally forgot. Made me glad I’ve already made an appointment with the barber to get it trimmed.
The most fun I’ve ever had in my life was when I was young lighting off fireworks and a nearby patch of grass started on fire. My father and I ran over and meticulously stomped out every bit of fire as it spread, and managed to beat it handily. It was exciting.
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.
Oh wow. They did great work then. My niece has her face attacked by a pit bull, has had several surgeries and some laser work, and you can still tell unfortunately. She kind of developed some transient anorexia about it unfortunately, which my asshole MIL went out of her way to aggravate. Glad you did well though.
I’m so sorry your niece went through that. I hope that she can find some peace and heal someday.
I think she’s much better now, thanks. Not thanks to the malignant narcissism of my MIL though. Ugh family.
Family can be the best and worst
Sometimes I depersonalize and can barely taste, smell, or feel pain
What does pain taste like?
Takis?
Is this similar to out of body experiences? I’ll feel far away from myself but on the inside, if that makes sense.
Can ypu normally taste pain?
I do this, I blame the dentist.
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 towers 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 have always had hypnagogic dreams but no paralysis. The scary hallucinations only happened when I was stressed
Normally the hallucinations were benign
I love your story. I overcome attempted nightmares in a very similar way.
I rarely get anything close to a nightmare nowadays, but I used to get dreams where someone/something would chase me. Then one night, I felt it was about to happen, and thought, “I’m so tired of this. You know what? I’m done.” And… the thing disappeared.
Ever since then, if any scary shit starts happening in a dream, I just tell it to fuck off. Sometimes that moment leads to a small bit of lucidity, and I go, “Oh hey, I can fly away.” Run, jump, take off, and it’s pleasant dreams from then on out.
The power of the mind is incredible.
I actually just had a moment like that (sudden lucidity during a dream) in my last sleep. Probably would have lost that memory entirely if this comment hadn’t reminded me. Even still, I can’t remember the context, just that something was happening that was mildly annoying and I realized I was dreaming.
I just said, “wait a minute, this is my dream, I’m in control here” and then I think the dream shifted into something else or something because the memory fragment ends there.
It’s weird, as soon as I became aware of my sleep paralysis I became able to control it and I’ve never had another either
I still experienced it after I knew what it was, but not nearly as often. The last time I remember it happening, I dreamed I was at work. Laid down in a hallway to nap. Woke up from the dream nap with one of the execs standing next to me, looking down his nose. Couldn’t move. “Hell of a time for sleep paralysis,” dream-me thought.
Then real me woke up with sleep paralysis. At work, with my head down on a conference table at 3am.
I do not miss those sensations.
Lost one of my testicles when I accidentally got hit during bandy practice. Scrotum turned into the size of a handball before it got better. No surgery or drainage, was told to let it be and it would fix itself.
Had a cup and everything so just got unlucky.
Wait, hold up… so you’re testicle just what? Vaporized? Like… there’s excess material there and if it’s no longer receiving blood it’s going to rot and decay… How did you not go septic and die?
It just shriveled up after the bleeding and swelling stopped. Whatever is left is still there. It likely burst from blunt trauma.
Good lord, how long were you doubled over in pain? Did you pass out?
Nothing like that. It kinda got painful gradually, like stomach ache that steadily got worse over night. It got very hard to walk.
Didn’t show anyone either, so my dad thought i was pretending when I said i felt ill the morning afte. Had to go to school. Still didn’t wanna show it and just hoped it would pass. It didn’t. Had to call grandma to come pick me up from school. Took maybe 10 days or so for the swelling to go down.
2/10, highly recommend
Damn… that’s rough
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.
Omigod that’s awful.
Yeah, there’s also the confusion of not having literally seen or felt the kid being crushed, so chastising myself that it shouldn’t have been that traumatic. It took me years to accept that just hearing something can also be witnessing it.
My bus hit some poor unhoused guy last year. That was a terrible thump. Thankfully all he got was a head laceration.
I’m sorry and I’m glad he wasn’t majorly injured.
Probably not as interesting, but I was woken up as a kid (teen?) by my mom screaming and running into my room/in my bed. Woke up to see my dad standing in the doorway with a steak knife. She had asked him to go to rehab. That was it. We’re good though 🤙🏾
They tried to make me go to rehab 🎶
and I said 🔪🔪🔪
I think in hindsight, we can all agree, that Amy Winehouse should have indeed gone to rehab.
There’s literally a video of her doing coke while performing. Like mid song.
rehab doesn’t “fix” people. do you have any experience with addiction? if there was a magic cure, there would be no addicts.
Rehab can work for those who want to use it, it very rarely works for those forced to go to it.
There, feel better now?
rehab is a lot better of an idea than nothing
It’s a joke you cabbage
one that perpetuates an acceptable level of ignorance. Addiction is hell. You’re joking about people being in unimaginable pain. It’s disgusting.
You’re in unimaginable pain
Banned from my instance. Have the day you deserve.
My joints slip out like that’s what they were meant to do. My hips will dislocate during sex, it’s a not at all fun-for-me party trick
Joint hypermobility!
Once put one of those plastic wrapped potatoes in my uniform apron to put back in produce at my first retail job (got abandoned in the mac and cheese section). I then completely forgot and took it home. Took it out of my apron and put it on my desk next to my car keys because “I’ll remember to take it back”. I did not. Lived with me for a week or something when I finally put it in my apron again because I wasn’t remembering. I took it to work. I completely forgot about it and never returned it. It made this trip several times. I put it back on my desk because this wasn’t working out, surely I’ll remember if I see it.
Then I forgot about it for like three months. One day I look over at my desk and it’s a shriveled potato with a new potato growing from its own husk…
In essence, potatoes are amazing and horrifying. Just like my short term memory lol.
Then you plant the potato, determined to pay it back with interest. Months later, you harvest 5 potatoes that make it back to work but end up forgotten and back at home again. You even remember them at work frequently, but never when you’re in the right section of the store.
You do remember to plant them the next year though. The first year, you just put them in a pot in your back yard, this year they get a small dedicated place in the ground. The 5 potatoes turn into 34 and no longer all fit in your apron pockets. But you do remember to return the 4 you have on you one day at work, and then forget to grab more before the other 30 are all sprouting the next year.
So the potato garden gets bigger year 3. You build a small shed to store the couple hundred you harvest. You’re getting good at growing potatoes.
You eat one, not because you think you deserve it, but to make sure the potatoes you still want to return to the produce section are up to the high standards your employer’s customers expect.
It’s pretty good.
No, not just good. Your potato is amazing, the best you’ve ever tried. Wait, no, your work’s potato is the best you’ve ever tried. You vow to repay that potato, hardening your resolve. You bring a whole bag in on your next day.
It only takes you three days to remember to drop off the bag of potatoes with the others (after a colleague asks about the bulge on your back where you were carrying them under your shirt). But then you realize with horror that the colour of the bag you made doesn’t match the others. They are beige while yours is a bright beige. You return home that day with your bag plus a work bag, just so you can match the colour properly.
It takes you two more years to finally master the potato bag making craft. It wasn’t just the colour that was off, you also had to match the font and placement of the text and then noticed that your stitching holding the bag closed was pretty different.
Your potato garden had taken over your entire back yard by then and you knew with dread that you wouldn’t have enough space to plant them all next season. But your neighbour lets you use some of their 50 acres in return for two potatoes a day. You feel a bit guilty because they aren’t your potatoes, but you justify it because it’s an investment.
You don’t forget about returning potatoes at work anymore. You can’t forget. Potatoes have all but taken over your life at this point. You bring in a bag and fill your pockets with them each day and take each chance you can get to casually pass through the produce section and leave some potatoes without anyone noticing (which is difficult because you’d been promoted to the deli counter).
You’ve grown strong from getting used to carrying a bag of potatoes while still walking normally, not to mention the slight of hand tricks you use to pull it out of its hiding spot and leave it with the other bags without anyone noticing.
But you’re still gaining potatoes overall, filling the shed and the storage building that replaced it. You consider high jacking the truck that delivers potato orders to your work, but you know Ed in receiving would notice something was up if there was an extra delivery they didn’t pay for. You had already heard some confusion about potato shrinkage being negative and worried you’d never be able to repay your debt.
Then a complaint came in and you thought it was all over. A customer bought a bag of potatoes and they were all trash compared to the last one. The store was going to trace the batch number, which you had just been making up and even having a bit of fun with.
You felt a confused relief when you heard that the trace had led to nothing unusual being discovered. Turns out the trash potatoes were from the usual source and you wondered if that earlier bag was the one from you.
And then one day your nightmare comes true. You had just stealthfully placed three potatoes with others–that were much smaller and didn’t look nearly as good (you were considering sending some anonymous tips to the producer so yours wouldn’t stand out so much)–and made eye contact with one of your colleagues who was standing by the carrots. She saw. It’s over. My whole potato empire is about to crumble to nothing and I’m going to prison for theft.
She looked dumbfounded. A little too dumbfounded, actually. You were wondering if this was a bigger deal than you had thought when you notice a bright orange object fall from her sleeve to the ground. It was a carrot. And it looked significantly better than most of the carrots your work had on display.
I see you’ve seen my Stardew Valley games lmao thanks for the laughs this was great!
You might have ADHD lol
Potato: the traditional ADHD houseplant. (Reminds me, I should see if any of my bag of potatoes have volunteered to be planted/have sprouted yet)
I have definitely wondered the same myself lol I am also pretty shit with time management…
Why didn’t you just eat the potato?
Honestly never occurred to me lol I was 17 and that was Work’s Potato, it needed to go home to Work.
So pure of heart
