Got blackout drunk and woke up in a different city in a random hospital in Spain when I was 15. Loads of crazy details to that one
Police got called to house party we were having after we got into a fight while tooled up. Left everyone in the house and turned all the lights off whilst us three ran out the back door. I went back and somehow convinced the police to leave. Loads of crazy details there.
Got blamed for rioting in a newspaper which was bullshit and a total lie.
Fell off a house and shattered my left foot
Throat ruptured after surgery and nearly died alone in my bathroom
Dm me and I’ll find the article. Was during the riots that started in London and got down to Chatham after that kid got killed by the police. We literally just lit a campfire in the park like we usually would and they said it was rioters lol.
I also still have my hospital discharge sheet from Orihuela too haha. I walked 12km in the wrong direction towards Murcia airport.
It’s always a compliment when people think I embellish my stories. Best part is I still hang out with people involved in some of them so when my gf would hear their sides of shit she’d be amazed how it always backed up what I told her cos she couldn’t believe some of it.
October 2005 asked out repeatedly by gay programmer. Matthew Shepard, James Byrd Swatter hate crime poisoned to 350 pounds by northwell monopoly employee mother, republican father. Since converting to moderate Islam August 2013 car kidnapped, threatened by knife, 2016-2019 abilify in food, trespassed against 4th Amendment and Fair Housing Act.
September 1, 2022 my ex’s not a Muslim general ordered civilized “revenge” for 5 genocidal murders paid by uncle sam. parents stole passport, said they’re both mafia and I’m somehow in a gang for exercising alone. Then he locked my dog and false police reported with no probable cause investigation of danger to self or others. Eyes spasming, gained 30 lbs.
Survived a suicide attempt from a fentanyl and ketamine overdose. Life had gone to shit and for whatever reason that day (I can’t even remember exactly), enough was enough. I had bought the stuff in advance for this moment although I was using dissociatives pretty regularly. I was on a video chat with a friend (someone who was also suicidal and we’ve talked previously about how we wouldn’t interfere with each other’s attempts if it came to that. we were really bad for each other, but it was just nice to see another light in the darkness and knowing you weren’t alone. we ultimately made each other much worse off). But anyways, she feel asleep, it was during that moment when I guess I went for it. Took all the fentanyl and ketamine I had, and was pretty much blacked out before realizing it.
Guess I walked back to the couch where she was still sleeping on the video call and I lost conscious there. Next thing I know I feel my body violently being shaken and then suddenly I’m in the ER. I couldn’t talk at all and couldn’t move anything from the neck down. that lasted several days and I slowly got motor control back. Took my legs the longest and had to do a bunch of testing.
Once they found out it was a suicide attempt I was sectioned and unable to do anything if my own accord for like the next month. I was sent to some facility specifically for people who have made suicide attempts and also had drug abuse issues. Was there for a few weeks before I was able to transfer into an outpatient program for the same thing.
I guess what had happened initially was that when I passed out I was in view of the camera, so when my friend woke up she was trying to talk l with me, realized something was wrong and then what had happened, and then she was able to get an ambulance. They got there and revived me and then that’s just a little before I woke up in the hospital. It at all just so confusing, and I think I’ll always be bitter towards that friend that called the ambulance.
Things were bad leading up to that point, but they’d get generally so much worse afterwards. None of those feelings went away and I’ve just learned to mask it for now because I’m just exhausted with everyone I know feeling like they need to be so involved with my life. My friend who saved me from attempt ended up taking her own life the next year. In a way I’m pretty envious I think
thanks dude. I’ve got my dog that is more important to me than anything else in the world, and I absolutely refuse to leave him by himself no matter how bad things might be for me. I appreciate the words though
Saw a 2 person banner plane take off and then instantly crash into a bay while living in florida. Was smoking weed on the beach playing guitar when it happened. I moved closer to confirm it because of the crazy disbelief I felt and ran into a coworker who saw it aswell
I’m getting ready to umpire a ballgame when I’m like 20. Come out of the room five minutes before game time, and both teams have gone sprinting to the dugouts because this massive swarm of wasps (bees? Maybe bees… it was over 20 years ago) came buzzing right over the field the game was supposed to be on. Heading southeast. Partner and I nope back into the room for a while.
Anyways. The insects continue on doing whatever wasp- (or bee-) like activities they were doing and we play the game.
Game goes well. I get changed and go home. Home is somewhere between 5-10 km southeast of the ballpark.
As I park and get out I notice that the family is freaking out. Swarm of wasps (or bees) had just buzzed their way over from the northwest and taken up residence in one of the walls of our carport.
Sounds to my uneducated ears like bees hiving. IIRC a bunch of individual bees go out and find potential spots for a new hive, then come back and communicate with the hive details like where it is and what it’s like. Then the hive picks one of the spots and all of them who are going to go to the new hive go.
That’s exactly what it was. But the sheer odds of them settling on my house the same day as I worked a game a fair distance away at a park that happened to be in their path to their new home? Pretty fucking high.
I had a psychotic break. Of course, I did not know I had developed a mental illness. I thought the Russian mafia was coming to kill me and my family. That made for a very crazy year before I finally got treatment.
Did something trigger the psychotic break? Did you previously have interest in the Russian mafia that led to you believing it was that specific organization coming after you? I’m glad you were able to get help and treatment!
The shrink said it was triggered by stress at work. I was also on ADHD medication which can contribute but they didn’t think it was the cause or anything.
No, no interest in the Russian mafia but the guy who lived in the apartment below me where I first heard the voices was named Wlad so that’s where my mind went I guess.
Being young and exploring an abandoned farm area quite late at night, entering a hut with a friend, the door jammed as we entered and we got stuck in small box like room with caged windows for a few hours till someone heard us.
When i was at my first job in a factory as a trainee, they decided to remodel a manufacturing line and had to move some 40t hydraulic presses. They hired a crane, and the crane guy did the proper mounting of the presses. A 20cm steel beam through the mounting holes of the press, attached to the hook of the crane with these nylon carrying ropes. All fine.
As he lift the press through a hole in the roof, the steel beam just fucking breaks into two pieces. The whole 40t press falls to the ground from a height of 3 meters, leaving a crater of 50cm in depth in the concrete. The broken off piece of the steel beam slams into the driver cabin of the crane, which luckily was reinforced with a steel cage behind the window. This cage saved the crane operator’s life.
We were on a smoke break and watched everything. Fucking crazy.
Never step under heavy load hanging from a crane. Never ever.
The way I move through the world and the way people treat me is just fundamentally different to the way that they used to treat me. I have seen and lived “both sides” as it were
I sometimes still have trouble believing that it’s real…
It is real for sure. I’m a cis male with what is generally considered a woman’s name. At work, it is crazy how differently people treat me when they only know me through chat or email vs in person or on the phone. It gets really interesting meeting some people for the first time after communicating only via text for a while. So much changes right at that moment.
We had a big flood where I live about 10 years ago. Massive amounts of water and whole basements of almost all the homes completely went under water for days. I worked for a clean up crew that summer cleaning up alot of the damage. I was 18 and needed a job and thought it would be a good experience. I was just hired as a temp by a restoration company through a hiring agency though and I found out almost everyone I was working with was the same. The people supervising us, some were not much older than me and had no idea how to run this operation. One day we are in the basement of a large commercial building. Young supervisor tells me and 3 other temps to haul out a heavy washing machine that needs to go to the main level. Only way out was a massive wood staircase that went straight up and contained probably 50 steps. This was an industrial washing machine so it weighed probably a couple hundred pounds. We get it onto a dolly and begin hauling it up the stairs. I am at the top pulling the dolly with another guy while the two others are at the bottom pushing. Thing is so heavy we have to pull it in spurts. So “1…2…3…” then we all move it up one step. We get all the way to the top and only have two more steps. Now remember when I said these basements were fully under water? That was also the case here. The staircase had been under water for days and was now very weak. So we pull the machine up to the step before the landing. As we pull it, me and the guy beside me step onto the landing. The machine goes onto the last step and the connection between the staircase and the landing at the top of the stairs breaks. Whole staircase falls and the two guys below fall with it. Luckily when it all hits the ground, the machine rolls away from the guys and they are hurt, but not seriously. Everyone comes rushing over because the sound is deafening, and me and the other guy are still standing at the top of the landing looking down at everyone. Had we not stepped onto the landing at the moment we did, we would have fallen with the stairs and the machine would have rolled ontop of us. Likely killing or permanently injuring us. It’s amazing how close I was to likely death. We were pulled aside by the safety guy for the crew. I saw him later reaming out the young guy that was supervising us and told us to take the machine up the stairs. I’m pretty sure he was fired that day and he looked so distraught. In hindsight I don’t blame him as he should never have been in that position and it was more a reflection on the bad business practices of the restoration company hiring temps and unqualified supervisors.
Backstory: I met my first girlfriend when I was around 17. Then I met her family, and during that time, O developed arthritis.
The pains were really bad, to the point that some days I couldn’t even stand up from my bed. One day, her parents called me and asked me if they could “help” me.
This is where the story starts, they said they were part of a “religious group” and were called Santeros (so they practiced Santeria).
The thing is, at the time I was so ignorant that I didn’t even know what that was and didn’t even make the effort to find out for some reason.
They told me they could take me to a guy that could pray for my health and whatnot. Since I didn’t want to sound rude, I agreed and we went to the place.
The man (priest? Idk) kept insisting he knew I had noghtmares and I was afraid of someone chasing me, to which I kept insisting that that was not the case. Yhe whole experience was weird.
But then he told my girlfriend’s parents that he wanted to see me again because he meeded to “perform” to be able to help me with his prayers.
For some reason, I didn’t even pay attention to this and just said sure.
A week goes by and I am going, again, to the same place with priest with my gf’s parents. The difference is that, this time, there is a giant box in the back of the car.
I get there and they take me to the second floor of thr place. The floor is completely messed up woth dirt all over the place and weird artifacts, cockroaches, spiders, and a hole on the rooftop.
They tell me to take my clothes off (except my underwear) and pray to a god (I think it was called Oshun? I don’t remember).
After chanting and praying, they tell me to lay down on the ground looking up. I do so and they proceed to take a small calf out of the box, decapitate and dismember it next to me, and afterwards putting the body in top of me in the form of a cross, all while chanting, singing, dancing, etc.
After that they told me to bathe in a specific river using oranges as a sponge.
The whole experience was fucking surreal, after that, I just reject almost everything that has to do with religion.
It certainly helped me stay away from the family after that! The family told me “your belief was not strong enough, that’s why it didn’t cure your arthritis”. Sure…
Venezuela, where I was born (although I don’t live there anymore). However, there were way more Santeria small sacrifices (chickens) in Miami, FL when I used to live there, walking by the streets and actually looking at the bushes next to the streets you realize it’s really common, every now and then you find a bloody plastic bag with a beheaded chicken/rooster and hanging chicken legs.
I was carrying some HVAC equipment down some stairs last year when I accidentally slip a little and the equipment cut my wrist wide open and blood started rushing out like crazy and my hand went numb instant. I immediately put pressure on my wrist to stop the bleeding and my brother drove me to the hospital. That ride there was so intense, I genuinely felt like i might bleed to death, or even have to lose my hand. It was so surreal, I kept thinking how horrible my family, friends, and my girlfriend of 5 years would feel if I died. In that moment I realized they’re what matters. My job didn’t matter, my social media accounts didn’t matter, my materialistic items I owned didn’t matter. Just the people who I love. After arriving the doctors did a great job at assuring me I’d be fine. I had surgery 2 days later, however, I couldn’t move my wrist or hands for a while. Even now, about 14 months later, half my hand still feels mostly numb all the time, it’s super sensitive, the scar is massive and hasn’t fully healed, and I can’t close my pinky finger no matter how hard I try. It definitely sucked a lot, mostly because I was in between jobs because I had was moving, so I couldn’t work and my girlfriend had to cover so much expenses and guilt took over me like crazy and I felt so worthless. Then I felt even worse cause it caused me to gain so much weight, I even started feeling suicidal for a bit. I’ve learned to accept it though and my life is pretty much back to normal. I wasn’t able to do so many simple things like wear pants with buttons, tie my shoes, using toilet paper was a struggle, driving was hard, locking my door was almost impossible because I needed my other hand to pull my door to get it to lock. Late last year I got a job in a retail store and have since gotten 2 promotions and making the most money I’ve ever made in my life. Around that time I also started eating healthier and I’m down 60 pounds! I’m glad I beat the suicidal thoughts and kept going. Life is awesome.
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