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

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.

I’m so sorry that some people in this thread have much worse nightmares than I have. I don’t recall having any nightmares that you might call visually grotesque.

When I was in High School, I apparently discovered that looking at a person signals interest in the person, and that it’s possible to look at something in this way on accident, or at least without conscious planning. From this I concluded into a mild obsession to basically be conscious of what I am looking at at almost every point in time. In hindsight, it feels kind of like the “you are now breathing manually” meme. This basically only happened with two people, along with it slightly reinforcing my bias against looking at girls, because I’m probably gay anyway, let them not get any ideas.* (this thought is completely stupid in any other way than being moderately considerate. it probably didn’t do anything anyway, because I’m not very socially active and had approximately 1-2 friends.)

• The girl who sat on the mirror-opposite side of the room from me in math class, which, If I didn’t change seats on purpose, which I did when possible, basically put her in the center of my default field of view when not looking at the teacher. (Seating and desk arrangements in my country are very exciting.) She was really good at staring back, which is basically why I noticed that people care when they’re being looked at. I don’t really know whether she did this on purpose. I had nothing in common with her that would count as knowing her personally, but we did look pretty similar, so much that some people just told me this without being asked. She’s the only person wearing a tie on one of the photos from graduation. I didn’t feel a legitimate reason to care much, but basically, I cared because of how much I was constantly thinking about not looking at her. To my friend, I expressed myself as being kind of scared of her, though I never really said that I was scared that anyone capable of critisizing me would find out how much space this bullshit took up in my mind sometimes, or misrepresent this as being attracted or something. I also remember believing at some point that she was behind me on my way to school, (in some parts of europe, people bike to school,) as well as just actually seeing her on some paths beyond doubt, and thinking a moderate amount about what path she takes the least, which might just have been all of them, because of how rarely I saw her on the way.
• The other guy isn’t really at fault or anything. He’s still really nice to be with now that I’ve gotten over this somewhat, though I see him rarely, which probably contributed to the brainworms spreading.

*(I cultivate an off-internet bonus genre of brainworms where being asexual reinforces my faux-antiquated fear of being perceived as attracted to someone, which may or may not make sense)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?!?!

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.

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.

I beat somebody into a coma with their own gun.

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.