Microblog Memes

In a religious church/school I attended, we had a "revival" week in which kids took to destroying their "secular" CDs, etc. It became sort of a game of oneupmanship mixed with a dash of Satanic Panic. You could brag in chapel about it and get kudos, look good in front of everyone. One pre-teen/young teenage girl went home and put her Ouija board in a tub of gasoline and lit it. She barely survived, spent months in the hospital, and was never the same, obviously. The adults then comforted themselves by telling everyone that she had seen red eyes in the flames. It was for the best, you see, the Ouija board did indeed have a demon inside. After, she got really into Marilyn Manson, wearing all black, etc. so they cast her as the evil kid to feel even better, I guess.

The end.

Did I do it right? Did I do good?

Hey the moderator removed my reply. Well it's a good thing he's a moderator, otherwise he'd have to present a coherent argument in public like the rest of us instead of just censoring me.

My lungs are 21 years older than I am. My new lungs were put in using a clamshell incision and arching my back… don’t look it up if you’re squeamish, it’s pretty scary looking

When i was young, a family friend abused me and beat me up until my face was purple, he was an adult. i went to school the next day and they thought i was abused by my family but it was this guy instead, so they made me go home. Years later, this family friend's restraining order wore off, so i pretended to be nice to him.

His brother was an alcoholic and the brothers did not get along very well, i also found out his brother was very very sick and was likely to die soon. The brother HATED my abuser's dog, so while he was super drunk, i talked to him about that. And used some subtle suggestions to convince him to kill his brother's dog. His brother then beat the crap out of his own brother who later died. Thus covering up any evidence that i was simply accomplishing revenge against him.

And yes, i do deeply regret using the dog for this. I probably could have done something else instead. But after that, my former abuser always seemed to be scared of and creeped out by me. I think he may have thought i might have been responsible but he never really had proof, he killed the only proof with his own hands.

Then again, he also not only beat me up he also forced me to walk about 10 miles while he drove nearby and told me not to talk to strangers or he would shoot me and bragged about being divorced from his wife because he almost killed his son. so im not really all that beat up over anything beyond the dog dying. i care about animals, not people. definitely one of the worst things ive done that i deeply regret. aside from the suffering i put my abuser through.

He always seemed to be creeped out and scared of me after that point. But i also learned that indirect violence is far more effective than direct violence. Theres nothing to prove most of the time. I can't even prove this to everyone here. All i have for proof is the vivid memories that never leave my mind.

I still remember him crying like a little bitch <3 i will never forget it, and i will never not feel good for that.

A bit over a decade ago, I was motorcycle camping on a solo trip down the US West coast. Being a bit on the cheap side and preferring wilderness, I decided to make use of the Bureau of Land Management camp sites, where possible. They are free, somewhat remote and quiet (no hookups for RVs or any of that), which I really appreciate.

While heading South through Northern California, I stopped at the one near Ukiah, had a quick dinner, and went to sleep in my 2-person tent that I had been using for the trip. For some reason, I had my laptop out - maybe trying to look at some helmet cam footage. And, when I went to sleep, I was lazy and just suspended it, leaving its power LEDs slowly blinking.

I was awoken in the middle of the night by an animal rather forcefully trying to get through the side of my tent. I shouted and banged on the handle of my hatchet (hollow, glass-filled nylon, so it could be used to make rather significant noise). The animal took off, rather loudly through the brush near the camp site. My laptop, with blinking LEDs was right next to the wall of the tent where my "visitor" had been trying to gain entrance. So, I completely shutdown the laptop, ensuring that there was no blinking and failed to get any more meaningful sleep.

The next morning, once it was light out, I warily looked outside my tent to be sure that my "visitor" wasn't waiting for me. Then, surveyed the site with hatchet in hand and heavy sheath knife on my belt (Morakniv Companion - highly recommended in carbon steel as it's a great knife and still somehow cheap). All around the picnic table where I had cooked my curried lentil dinner were the large and unmistakable tracks of my large feline "visitor". Not wanting to stick around in case the mountain lion decided to come by to investigate some more, I quickly broke camp and made my way back to the road, skipping my planned breakfast for diner food.

As one can reasonably expect from this experience, I camped at the same campground on my way back North and return there to camp fairly regularly.

In the same year I put my head through a plate glass window (to a shocking lack of injury) I also attempted to lift an engine block off a cherry picker... WITH MY HEAD... to hilarious results.

Well the TBI, seizures and utter disregard of my mother to the suggestion of a neurosurgeon that I needed surgery to relieve swelling at the injury site weren't too funny. The latter is my favorite as she 'treated' me with nightmarish vegetable smoothies consisting of spinach and not much else.

I still hate spinach. And it's been 47 years.

Slicing raw meat brings me the weirdest joy.

OP, the pic said an unsettling fact about you, not your neighbor. You need to follow it up with something like, "While he did it, I held my hand over his so he could teach me his techniques." If true, that it would make it an unsettling fact about you. If you don't have anything, though, it happens. I'm not coming up with much at the moment either. And just saying something like "I poop a lot" would do this thread an injustice.

I intentionally make up horrors and monsters to lurk in the shadows or under my bed. Sometimes when I can't fall asleep, I stare at a corner of the room, imagining some unsettling creature that could be lurking there, staring back at me (if it has eyes at all). I imagine something reaching up to grab the leg I'm stick out over the edge.

But they can't actually get me. They're created, sustained and dispelled by my will. They may stare at me, reach for me, but they're powerless. When I'm done with them, I send them back to the half-existence in the collection of ideas I built them from.

It's a cruel power fantasy, to make up monsters incapable of understanding that they're the lesser horror between us, but it's fun.

It also seems to help me sleep, but that might just be the fact that focusing my brain on one thing quiets all the background noise.

I don't know if it's scary, but in the absolute core of my existence i just need my life to stop sooner rather than later.

I've always been a bit suicidal leaning but when i was stopped i never had the courage to try again.

Every single day my mind tells me "would've been better if you did, it's all a big shitshow anyway" it never misses a day. I keep telling myself to not listen to it but i do agree.

I had a certain circumstance a couple yeara ago where i was close to dieing and it brought me peace...i felt calm and became accepting of what was to come (despite the intense pain). Wife calles an ambulance which they refused to send as we were too calm for it to be believable, so we took a taxi and that's when they got to see the pain i was in and realized time was running out quick.

Bla bla bla etc etc, i got sent home a while later and the same pain returned...excruciating bone wrenching all encompassing pain and all my mind had to add was: "if this is real, just go to sleep and you won't have to wake up again".

And i did, despite this absolute tormenting pain i fell asleep so peacefully and convinced of it all ending...it was such a relief.

But i woke up after...shit.

That's the darkest corner of my existence.

When I was a kid I told a Special Ed teacher who I trusted that one of the gym teachers was having sex with high school students and grooming girls as young as 14.

Rather than report this to the authorities he told the gym teacher what was said. The next day the gym teacher (who was a big former semi-pro football player or something like that) cornered me and intimidated me into shutting my mouth.

2 years later a former student confronted the gym teacher's wife. In the fallout his behavior came to light and he left our school and went to teach a few towns over. The Special Ed teacher joked about it after the fact.

It was probably 20 years before I fully understood the scope of how disgusting that situation was.

My knife collection began because I was suicidal.

To keep myself around I got a bunch of knives so I wouldn't pick a favorite and "dissapoint" the others.

...I got better.

I realized I was trans in middle school, i said something suicidal to my friend and he told on me. I never really talked to the therapists because my mom was very homophobic. I got put on antidepressants and suppressed my feelings so hard I can hardly remember my childhood.
5 years later my depression went into "full remission" couple of months before I came out. I then 180°d and got sent to the psych ward for suicide ideation this February.

The only thing that stopped me from killing myself is the realization that my cat would be rubbing against my body for pets in the ~10 hours it would take for my family to find me. I was planning to buy a knife after work but broke down in the bathroom.

Covid probably saved my life.

I got bullied for about 5-6 years in school which ultimatively led to me just wanting to kill myself. Luckily for me the lockdown came so I got freed from the nightmare called school. My will to live devinetively improved, when not getting bullied the whole time you are sitting in class. However, when being in the lockdown I devinetively didnt process my feelings and thoughts about how I wanted to end myself. This led to me having almost a fill scale emotional breakdown mid class when school started, since we have been reading a play where someone killed himself and therefore learned stuff about the whole topic of suicide/mental health. Suddenly you realise, that all this shit kind of sounds very familiar for you which was quite overwhelming, but you can't let anyone see whats happening because that shit devinetively is going to get you bullied again. I never talked to a therapist about this and at this point it isn't needed, since I just went on and processed that time of my life for myself. I also kind of realised some time ago, that I also never told my family about this, but it isn't really relevant anymore and us just going to cause feelings of guilt in them for not acting.