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.
That’s because D&D is how you let the demons in, duh. How’s your possession going?
Tom Hanks told me that!
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
This made me cry.
Yeah it was messed up for a little kid to find I had nightmares for a long time from it, we kept the live dog but he was never right in the head and ended up biting me and we had to put him down poor dog probably had PTSD
Did you adopt the half skinned one or the spared one? Did the former survive?
The half skinned one died shortly after I found him I kept the one that was not skinned
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
out of all the disturbing facts in this thread this is the one I like the most
Sometimes I depersonalize and can barely taste, smell, or feel pain
What does pain taste like?
I do this, I blame the dentist.
Here’s a disturbing story involving pain and the dentist:
I went to some quack dentist when I was a teenager to get my wisdom teeth extracted. Novocaine just does not work very well on me, which I tell dentists every time and they just don’t listen.
So I felt a shitload of pain when he crushed my tooth to extract it, but I was also on nitrous, so I basically couldn’t move.
Many years later, when I was in my late 30s or early 40s, I was having intense pain in the back of my jaw. I thought one of the molars had gone bad and I needed a root canal or something. I made an appointment for an orthodontist, but he couldn’t get me in for a few days. And then a day before I got to to the orthodontist, I felt something in my cheek near the back of my jaw and the pain was gone. I pulled it out: it was a sliver of tooth he missed when he crushed it that had finally worked its way out.
I haven’t thought of either of those things in a long time. Believe it or not, I don’t think what happened at that dentist had any lasting trauma. It’s not something I ever dwell on.
I’m curious, why do this over two different comments?
Because I couldn’t get it to accept two images in the same post and I couldn’t find a gif of this scene and I’m dumb
and I’m dumb
This is an acceptable excuse. Carry on.
My dad threatened to kidnap me and an… Uncle, i think, held me at gun point when i was a baby. I had a surprisingly violent childhood, don’t remember any of it tho. Not many other 'scary ’ or unsettling facts i can think of I’m afraid, if those even count.
Since I most likely won’t out live my wife, and she doesn’t want to live without me, we have agreed on a murder/suicide when we are getting up there
✔️ Scary
✔️ Unsettling
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 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.
Damn, so sorry you’re having to go through this. May the days be kind to you, friend.
Thank you.
Sorry to read that. But in some way I am almost relieved that you seem to finally know what caused your insanely severe case of ARFID. I remember when you were posting about your time at the Mayo clinic and the awful mismanagement there and was very sad and disappointed (not by you) that you were bombarded with enough armchair diagnostics to stop updating about your case.
When did you get diagnosed with TN2? And how long was the gap between the kidney stones and your last bite, if I may ask?
Thanks. I don’t really feel relieved by it, mainly because it’s kind of irrelevant to the future, but it is what makes the most sense and it’s better than having no idea.
When did you get diagnosed with TN2?
I think about 10 years ago. Maybe 11 now. It might be genetic because my dad had TN1. But he got it in his 70s. It usually manifests itself at that age. I was in my late 30s.
And how long was the gap between the kidney stones and your last bite, if I may ask?
That’s kind of complicated. A few weeks after it happened (January 2023) I started dry heaving every morning. That has been almost daily for me. Occasionally more than once. Then that March, I had this issue for about six weeks and then I was fine again until August. And other than at the Mayo Clinic when they totally numbed my mouth with a lidocaine-based compound, when I was able to manage a couple of bites of egg salad, that was the last time I had truly solid food. I’m also the smelling equivalent of a supertaster. I can smell cleaning fluid inside stores from when the custodians mopped the day before.
Working with a psychiatrist and doing RO DBT therapy, I am at a place where I can eat pretty much anything if I don’t have to chew or use any utensils and I have conditioned myself to just deal with the smells even if they are awful. I’m even able to cook for my kid now.
So I am in a much better place than I was even six months ago.
I am impressed with you.
Thank you.
I know you said no advice, but have you tried jerking off a bunch?
Blocked so I can go look at porn uninterrupted.
Damn. You know flying squid, I’ve always looked up to you around here. I see you in a lot of posts and comments around and didn’t realize you are in agony for most of the time.
Yeah, gotta love it.
I wondered how things were for you. I’m so sorry. I do know of a new treatment for trigeminal nerve stuff simply because I work in neuro I can tell you about if you want but I most certainly won’t give you advice. I just know someone who is using it and it’s new.
I appreciate it, but I have good people I am working with.
Ok all good. Hope you get some relief soon.
Thanks.
deleted by creator
My dad once made me dig my own grave.
…We were building the family niche at our local cemetery and he needed help to dig the base
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
That’s not about you. Tell me about who you’ve embalmed.
Aw crap.
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
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.
I hate conversation hostages. They just dont let you exit, and don’t really care if you’re listening. I can understand their loneliness, but christ they need to develop the skills of: a) summarize your bullshit, and b) gauge my reaction to see if I’m interested.
Yeah, I don’t think he was too aware or didn’t want to be. The moment I saw his picture I did the whole “no fucking way this is you” face. I think he really needed to talk about it, which I understand, but it wasn’t the place or the time. He caught me completely offguard.
