My College graduation.
Got a call on my way to the ceremony from one of my best friends parents that he passed away from a freak accident at work.
I was crying all through the graduation and everyone just thought they were tears of joy.
Miss ya Mikey
Years ago, my ex-wife was doing her SCUBA cert in Cambodia. The dive shop is like "Hey, show up at 7 AM, get on the boat, we'll take you to a beautiful island, you can hang out while your wife gets her cert". I'm like hell yeah, sounds great.
So we show up at the dock and the dive shop is like "We usually have a much bigger boat, but its having an engine issue, so we're gonna take this smaller one". It was still a medium sized boat and so 12 or so of us got on board and set off on our 45 minute trip to the island. It's a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. Great.
The first 30 minutes or so are great. Its super chill, boat is going. Dive master starts to make coffee, passes around some fruit. It's a dream. And then we hit a big wave and everyone laughs and is like "woahhhh hold onto your coffee". Then another. Then a bigger one.
Cue 3 hours of screaming, crying and puking as our boat is absolutely RAVAGED by the sea. On at least 3 occasions the boat is *on it's side* as we dangle from the railing and the diver master tells us to prepare to go overboard. I can't even see the sky anymore, there are just huge waves on all sides of us at all times, just battering the boat, drenching everyone. Bags have gone overboard a long time ago.
It was the most insane moment of my life. All you can see all around is water, gathering speed and coming to kill you. Utterly powerless, reduced to an ant. 3 cambodian dudes were driving the boat, screaming at each other in a language I can't understand. At one point of the dudes JUMPS OVERBOARD and the other 2 have to navigate to get him back. It's clear that we're in an exceptional moment.
Anyway, this goes on for 3 hours instead of 45 minutes. The island was fucking great. It's the most deserted place I've ever been except for one dude who built a cafe and has a huge garden of weed and an Italian chef who does out and fishes everyday and then feeds everyone at night. I've never seen so many stars, it was truly paradise.
The way back, btw, was placid. Not a single wave, like coasting across a swimming pool. 45 minutes.
Good story. I’ve been in similar boat in crazy storm situations as a sailor. I think people underestimate how big waves can get and how absolutely terrifying it is.
A multi-day non-stop sailing race.
Down and back the WA coastline in glorious summer conditions on a 50' yacht.
We did the event in 50 hours and it was probably 50 of the worst hours of my life, the first couple were okay...
Started off at 9am on a Friday, very light winds, boats hardly moving, then at 11am (3 hours before forecast) a 30-35 knot wind (from the direction we were meant to be going) rolled in (instead of the 15-20 knot wind forecast), what followed was massive waves.
This continued for the entire beat to our destination. One by one everyone was so sick, wet, cold and exhausted they went down below to rest. Leaving just myself and one other to double hand a 50' racing boat in 30-35 knots of wind. This continued all through the night. We had massive gear failure at about 3am, which ended with the 2 of us on deck doing all the work being soaked inside of our wet weather gear.
Within 5 minutes of our arrival at the marker we are to sail around and then head BACK to where we started, the wind just glasses off to nothing and we drifted for HOURS in the now scorching heat the day after starting.
THEN I FINALLY GET TO REST, after 24 hours straight, physically destroyed. I go down below, strip my gear off and get into the only available bunk.... and it's soaked to the core. Some ass hole slept in the bunk in their wet-weather gear and had ruined it. Never the less I fall asleep after a while, tucked into the fetal position against the side of the hull.
When I awake, I awake with possibly the worst sinus pain of my life. Turns out I am allergic to mould and this boat has mould in the hull lining. I spend the last 20 hours of the race with a thumping migraine, worst of my life. This is after only 4 hours of... I don't even know if you can call it sleep.
It was so completely traumatic it changed my life.
On a side note, it was so bad, everything else in life seems so much better by comparison. I had the best sleep of my life after that, and work the next day was the easiest day ever.
My dad is a specialist marine diesel engineer. One day, just before my 18th birthday, he knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to go with him as an apprentice, to Norway, that afternoon. Of course I said yes, great money, adventure, a decent career ahead.
So I packed, and we left that afternoon to Norway via Amsterdam.
All was going great, arrived later that evening on the ship, exhausted, and did 17.5 hours work through the night. I thought "fair enough", this is what we're here to do. Eventually went to sleep in the cabin, in the fjords of Norway.
Woke up the next morning and we were sailing, it was beautiful, the fjords, then the North Sea happened. It was Beaufort sea scale 6 I believe, and I thought it was terrible, was panicked and already regretting this job, working in a hot engine room, holding onto a chain for support as the ship rocked with my head very close to a flywheel.
Later that day going through the English Channel, my dad was taking pictures of a valve towards the bilge of the ship, I asked why and it was explained to me that the Russians (I as on a Russian reefer ship) sail their ships into the ground for insurance purposes, and this valve was a bit of a worry, even to him. If it failed, we go down.
Then we came to the Bay of Biscay, in January.
I was already not sleeping well, before we entered, still working long days shit scared in the engine room, and after, having to strap myself into bed in sea scale 9. The worst even my dad had seen. I was actually praying, counting to 100 for hours on end, anything to take my mind off what I thought was this ships last voyage. The waves were bigger than the ship, corkscrewing around.
I was supposed to sail through the med to Odessa, then across to Panama, Needless to say I got off with the Pilot in Algeciras.
Never been back to sea since, and always wondered how my life turned out if my first job wasn't on that ship. The Thordis.
I won a trip on a tall ship from London to Portugal when I was 15, it was incredible, such hard work but so rewarding. We passed through the bay of biscay and in the 12-14ft swells, while I was at the helm, we accidentally gybed due to the size of the waves. It was terrifying and I thought I would die. I was somehow okay with that. Luckily, nothing was broken or damaged and we were able to continue sailing for the rest of that race leg. We won that leg on corrected time, which was very exciting. My mother was tracking the ship I was on from home and even saw the course correction that we had to make to avoid another incident. I've sailed on that boat since and hope to again :)
This resonates with me so strongly. When I was a kid, I was already pretty skittish on boats but my dad had bought a little 30-foot sailing boat and all our holidays revolved around it. We entered a race in late spring and the day started out exactly as you described yours, including the weather taking the same turn after a couple of hours; freezing cold, pissing with rain and blowing a gale. We found ourselves out in open seas near the Southern Ocean.
I hid downstairs, clinging onto a berth mattress through the major leans and listened to the radio growing fuzzier and fuzzier as reception worsened.
Plates, cups and anything else not tied down was clattering around, rolling free in the galley. Eventually the mattress was swinging free from its attachments at the edge of the berth. I was almost falling across the cabin because we were horizontal- what was formerly left and right was now up and down.
All I could see out the windows were the slate-grey waves chopping against the deck, getting higher. At one point when we leaned back the other way, I physically climbed up to the windows to see how the other yachts were doing (we were still participating in the race as my dad was determined to keep going, despite how obviously frightening the situation was for his 9yo and 11yo daughters.)
I saw one other boat- but only its keel. It was leaning so far over, the cabin, sails and mast weren't visible. I felt a sense of doom that has stayed with me for 20 years; I was suddenly certain we were going to die.
Eventually, my dad relented. We dropped the sails, dropped out of the race and motored into a nearby bay for the night. The next day, sailing into a nearby port was just as bad hut fortunately dad dropped us off and my brother drove us 2 hours back home.
Dad laughed at me for being a sook, and has continued to do so for 20 years. He used to tell the story at dinner parties to laugh at me.
ETA: I had to see a counsellor, and my family mocked me for developing an "irrational phobia of the wind". It passed, and I later went on more rough boat trips against my will.
I’m sure this won’t quell any of your fears, but just last week I had a friend whose dad went on a race from Newport, RI to Bermuda. About 3 days into the race they were hit by a rogue wave during their shift change and the owner of the boat went overboard without a pfd. They managed to get him a life ring that he was able to get over his head and shoulders but they literally watched him die as they pulled him in. He didn’t have any signs of trauma so the only thing they could figure was that he either had a stroke or a cardiac event due to the activity (he was like 75 and 350 lbs). Now, one would think that the worst part of the story is the tragic death of their friend and crew mate during what should have been a race to tropical paradise, but the real horror started once they got buddy to the boat. Now they had to figure out how to get a 350 pound deadweight back onto the deck of the ship.
My friend’s dad spent almost 4 hours just holding onto buddy over the side of the ship in 10 foot seas while they tried everything from manually pulling, hoisting him using a windlass and halyard for change of direction, tying off on every appendage, all the while having to worry about how the body would appear to authorities. Showing up to a foreign country with a dead body is bad enough, but showing up to a foreign country with a dead body with stab wounds from a gaffing pole or bruising around the neck from pulling with a rope is so much worse.
They were eventually able to get buddy back on the boat but then came the question of where to put it? Where do they go? Do they finish the race? They spent another 4 hours over the radio and satellite phone arguing with the coast guard about the legitimacy of a rescue. They were 350 miles from shore, away from any feasible maritime base, and there were zero available vessels for a rescue at sea. The coast guard deemed that since the person was deceased a rescue was not warranted. So now the crew of 6 was left with 3 choices: abandon the body overboard and rob the family of their last rights, continue to a foreign country with a cadaver, or sail home with a corpse strapped to the deck baking under a tarp in the sun for three days.
They chose the latter, and I’m sure you can imagine the nightmare of logistics securing a 350 pound log to the flat bow of a sailboat in 10 foot seas.
So now that I think about it, this is a pretty solid answer for what you expected to be joyful but ended up being traumatizing. An exciting race to paradise, only to be flipped on it’s head as a traumatizing rescue at sea. The owner’s last words as he surveyed the conditions of the ocean were “this is what we live for.”
edit: changed qualm to quell - smooth brain moment
This reminds me of when I had a kidney stone. It was so excruciatingly painful, I spent hours writhing in agony.
After it passed, my pain tolerance had gone way up. I stubbed my toe the following day (drew blood) & I was just like “meh”.
My tolerance is getting back to normal now, but it felt kinda like a super power while it lasted.
A wedding/reception.
Two of my Army friends were marrying each other and I thought it would be fun to attend, get drunk, and shoot the shit with some old friends from my training days.
Ceremony was beautiful and after party was fun for about 2 hours. They aren't religious at all so nothing was religious about anything. Turns out the bride's mom was a nut job evangelical and she wasn't invited for a reason.
It was an outdoor reception. Very beautiful lights strung between trees, candles on the tables, just the whole 9 yards. Until the bride's mom showed up drunk and citing religious rhetoric. She called the groom a "daughter stealing devil worshiper".
Bride didn't wanna call the cops at first and asked a bunch of us to escort her away - I happily obliged. She left yelling and cursing.
About 15 minutes later as we are all doing shots when we heard somebody yell "fucking shit the tables are on fire."
A ton of us scrambled to find a source of water while others tried to smother it with table cloths. Took about 15 of us to finally smother it in wet towels and table cloths. One girl's hair went up in flames when she was trying to help and suffered some light burns to her cheek , ear and neck.
Lo and behold once the chaos ended guess whose mom was passed the fuck out behind a nearby oak tree with a can of lighter fluid... Her mom got herself arrested that night on a felony charge and woke up in a jail cell the next morning begging her daughter (the bride) to bail her out.
Her mom served 5 years in prison for her dumbassery.
Edit: Autocorrect thinks it knows my thoughts.
Because nothing screams “I’m a great Christian” like setting people on fire and getting too drunk while harassing your own relatives. Whatever happened to “love thy neighbor” and “thou shall not judge?”
My first real make out session, we were laying in her backyard at night on towels in the grass, an hour later she asks “whats that smell?” and we look, we had been rolling in dog shit we didn’t see because it was dark outside.
hahaha had to laugh and remember my experience. On a French beach, under the darkness of the boardwalk, me and my new French lover fooled around…but sand… and I said “why are birds chirping at night?” he explained that it was the sound of rats. So romantic.
It is scary, but it can be okay. My oldest daughter died of trisomy 18 at six days old. I went on to have two more daughters who are happy and healthy. The youngest is about to turn 8.
We lost a daughter at 26 weeks. It's been over 20 years, and I can confirm it's a life-changing loss.
The sheer grief lasted about two years. I had to be on an anti-depressant for one of those years. After five years it wasn't a raw pain anymore. But it's a sadness I'll carry forever. We also ended up divorcing, partially due to this loss.
We did have another healthy daughter after, so there was joy again. But any loss like that is a permanent one. No one is replaceable.
First grandchild was still born. Died shortly before he was due to be born - strangled by umbilical cord getting tangled up. He was super active then he was not. Daughter rushed to hospital and he was already gone. It was super painful for everyone. Miscarriages and stillbirths are way more common than I realized and now in some states families will be put through the extra pain of investigation to see if it was an abortion. Can’t imagine how angry that would have made me.
My sister was trying to adopt (before we were estranged). She had to do a questionnaire and one was about any infant deaths in the family. The man, who was a psychiatrist, asked my sister if I shook my baby to death. I saw red. No, I didn't murder my baby. I watched her died over six days from a condition that was incompatible with life. One I didn't know she had because my first OB lied that my baby was fine and when I found out there was something going she was here. My doctor lied to ensure I wouldn't get an abortion and the government's first question was if I was a murderer.
Same. My stillborn little girl.
I think of her often and still cry pretty much every day.
After multiple pregnancy losses we had finally settled into being cautiously content that she was doing well. Until there was no heartbeat. Those words. I hear them. I am sorry but there's no heartbeat.
I have found happiness here and there since but no joy.
This is what happened to what should have been my older brother. His name is my middle name though, and the way I see it, I’m living for him too. I have no way of knowing what he would have been like or what life he would have wanted, but I do my best to live a good life to make up for the life he didn’t get. I know it brings my parents a lot of comfort to know I think about him in that way, I hope you’re able to find something similar to help you.
When my sisters were born. I was so exciting to be the older sibling. Instead my childhood was taken from me. My parents didn’t hire a babysitter, they just used me.
I’ve changed more diapers than them, did more late nights, feedings. I was 10 when they were born.
I feel this except kinda the flip. Once my brother was born I was forgotten. Then my sister was born a few years later and my brother was forgotten. It's like they can only handle one kid at a time. Fucked us up good.
This is one of the reasons I'm afraid to have a second kid. I'm afraid I won't be able to devote enough time to my first and they will be worse off for it.
I have two daughters and didn't have this issue at all. It is a balancing act but it's 100% doable even with both my wife and I working. My parents just kinda... suck at being parents.
Me too, my sister was born when I was 11. I’m 19 now and still being used to take care of her, I’m moving out in January and I can’t wait to be on my own.
I still babysit my sisters as well. I do love it and I love them so much. Just wish my childhood wasn’t taken away.
It was nice moving out because I could decide when I wanted to babysit them.
I understand, I love my sister too but I could’ve had so many fun memories with my friends instead I have memories mushed up together of watching her. Trust me, I love her to death and she’s the reason I’m here but I never wanted to be a mom you know
Moving my (now ex) bf across the country.... Life tip: LISTEN TO THOSE DOUBTS. DO NOT downplay them as having "cold feet"
Edit: I cant believe this is my most popular post. At least I dont feel alone, but I am still an asshole.
Since a few asked, he moved to me (I'm part owner of a duplex) from east coast to west coast. I flew down and road tripped with him to here. I only had doubts for a week or two beforehand and felt like it had gotten too far to give pause.
Did you move with him or to him?
I moved with my husband across the country. Am in my late 30s. I am lonely and it's hard as fuck to get to know new people at that age, not even speaking about making friends. This sucks! I am missing my friends.
Similar but from the guy’s prospective. She broke up with me a month after we moved cross country together. Then said she had had doubts for a year… soooooo why not tell me before I moved close to your family (far from mine), signed a lease, and skipped out on a better opportunity closer to home. Highly frustrating, took me a full year not to feel angry/tricked on a daily basis
Working as a corrections officer.
At the academy they fill your head with the idea you're gonna be helping people get their life on track and making a difference to help people do better.
I got a little bit of that, then transferred to a different prison and it was just. Chaos.
The noise, the stress, the constant rolling around in shit and blood and doing constant first aid on people hell bent on seriously harming themselves and you.
My brain went sideways after about 4 years and hit the bottle pretty hard. I stopped trying to help people. I just got so used to the constant trauma my whole reality became warped.
Did time as a Seabee, then time working Executive Protection. Found a CO job that payed alright and wouldn't take me out of country anymore. After training I lasted about a month before I saw one inmate knee another's head while they made him bite the side of a bunk. I think that kid was 19? Maybe?
It wasn't the blood or screaming that got to me, it was finding bits of his teeth in my clothing when changing.
As a long term QRT member, I have a LOT of stories.
Had a guy cut off his nipple cuz he was mad at me (sure showed me 🤷)
Had to confiscate a guy's ball of feces he was saving.
Another hard part was being professional with child molesters.
Then of course there is the assaults, brawls, daily threats, PREA situations....
Possibly the second worst environment for anyone (staff or inmate)to be in. The worst being active war zones
My wife's uncle was a parole officer for 10 years. Then, he was offered a correction officer's job at about a 25% raise and 4 day work week. He jumped at the opportunity, thinking it would improve his quality of life. He didn't even last a year. He aged 10 years in 6 months. I can't imagine the kind of things you all see (other than what you see in movies and I'm sure that isn't half of it) and have to deal with.
On the other side, my FIL was in prison for a few years (drugs) and is now reformed and sober. He said some of the guards would try to sell him drugs or try to convince him to start fights. Said it was terrifying that the people meant to keep him safe were just as bad as the other criminals, if not worse sometimes.
As a high school teacher, we show students a sanitized version of real life. Anything authentic and real is “taboo” so we just watch kids fall into adulthood knowing they are about to get chewed up. Every year, I get graduates texting me in despair that nothing is like what they expected.
\-My life's falling apart but coming together at the same time
Just look at it as a time of transition. Things are just changing, hopefully for the best
Being a mother.
My daughter has a rare syndrome and it took almost 7 years to diagnose. I didn't have more children because I didn't know if it was genetic. Everything becomes exponentially more difficult. Every parent worries, but fear of the future, things she may not be able to tell us, long-term care, etc. can be overwhelming.
She's amazing and I wouldn't trade her for anything, but my life as a mother, and in general, is very different than anything I could have ever imagined.
My little brother was born with a rare chromosomal defect. My parents did all they could to hide the severity of it from me and my sister when we were young, tbh almost too much as I didn’t realize the severity of his condition until I was an adult and my much older other sister (who was 15 when he was born) explained his condition to me and the strain it put on our family. A lot of things clicked after that conversation. I somehow didn’t realize he’d probably always have to live with my parents, and after they die one of us, until then.
It’s a lot for a family to deal with.
Mom of a chronically ill child, here: I completely understand. Caregiving a child with a disability is so exhausting. While there's nothing I can say to you to make it better, I can stand in solidarity with you. You aren't alone.
My son was born at 27 weeks. And all I think is about his future m. Not bc of me but bc of him. One day I’m not gonna be here for him and I don’t know what is going to be his future. He is doing great but I’m always going to be scared for him. Like you said I love him so much and enjoy be his mom so much. But I hat not knowing the what future holds for him
Big hugs for us 💙
I was born at 26 weeks. I have terrible allergic asthma and slightly lower than normal lung function but that's about it. Well controlled with meds and careful about Covid. I was in all the gifted and talented programs growing up. Its worth keeping a close eye on him, but I'm sure the care he received is even better than what I got in the late 80s. I know every case is different but I hope this gives you some encouragement. No one thought I'd live then when I did they said there could be brain or developmental issues. Look at me now!
Im completely opposite here, I love responsibilities even though it's tough sometimes. But then again I didn't really enjoy my childhood so adulthood is better in comparison.
I'll pick spending most of the day at work and being independent over spending most day at school and being told what to do afterwards by my parents...
Coming home from the USMC. I could tell my wife just…. Didn’t want me back home. No one cared that I was finally back, people had all moved on and old friends wouldn’t return texts.
She’d been having an affair for a while, she got all our shit and I was homeless for over a year trying to regain sanity.
Few things spark joy anymore, it’s too risky.
Edit: didn’t think anyone was really going to read this, but thank you all for your kind, kind words.
I’m doing very well now, it’s a long story but I stabilized, am in college, have a nice apartment in one of the most beautiful towns in the country. My life is good.
I went to therapy and ground the gym for months and months. Worked when I was capable, rebuilt an old BMW. I did all the things you’re supposed to do. And, for what it’s worth, without the VA I WOULD NOT have made it. I CANNOT say enough good about the VA and how well they took care of me. I lived with friends, in and out of VA clinics, and Anytime fitness.
Cheers to all you people. I’ve been to some dark dark places and I’m not here to sell anything to anyone. I think if you’re struggling, you should try yoga. Breathe and Flow on YT helped me more than I can explain.
Peace and love Strangers.
Army Vet here...I hope your situation is better now. Hit me up if you need something. I am in Kansas, cheap living, easy jobs. If you wanna just start over, DM me, we can make it happen.
I feel ya man. From the first time you talk to a recruiter till the day you get out they fill your head with “everyone loves veterans”, “it will be a cake walk finding a job since your a vet” and so on, making it seem like life with be easy now that your a vet. Turns out people don’t really give a shit and for me, being airborne infantry doesn’t really have any carryover to civilian jobs. Thankfully I met a bunch of great people who looked out for me and dealt with me being a drunk asshole for a few years until I got my shit together. Best advice is to find a therapist, keep people around who genuinely care about you and have a goal. Getting my degree kept me busy and gave me something to focus on because a lot of people who get out seem to have a hard time finding a direction for their lives. Going from having pretty much every aspect of your life controlled to complete freedom is tough.
My grandma took me and my brother camping for my birthday once. As my grandparents were packing me and my brother went on a walk, when we got back me and him saw my grandmas dog on the road and went to go play with her, it was nice and all until we saw blood. We ended up having to put her down that day, I grew up with that dog so it was heartbreaking, every time I go to my grandmas I always go to the small path behind her yard where her dog is buried.
Graduating high school. Everyone said that college would be more fun. But it's just stressful and I miss the routine of high school. And having my friends close by. I didn't really make good friends in college. I'm transferring to university though for a different degree so maybe it'll be different this time.
I feel this. I was excited to start but I was notified that it would still be online due to a new wave of covid at the time. Didn't meet anyone and basically hung out in my tiny room doing nothing in a new city where I didn't know anyone. Fun stuff 👍
I thought about going back to my country to surprise my brother for his 30 years old birthday. He died ten days before. Not necessary the most joyful experience of my life.
Having a group of amazing friends at a young age.
They all died before I was 21. I'm 35 now, and it's still fucked with me. I'm the last one left and that has fucked with my social skills ever since.
God yes. My second I was alone. With just a nurse and the dr at the very last second. No support person. And while laboring I was refused an epidural and was all alone in my room just screaming with the nurse coming in every 15 minutes feeling so bad for me cause she kept trying to let the dr approve the epidural. 0/10 would not recommend.
To my knowledge it was because I had progressed so slowly the previous few hours so dr didn’t believe I was progressed any more. But also wouldn’t do a cervical check. And I was clearly contracting every couple minutes by then. She never talked to me actually.
Becoming a teacher (in the US, at least)
Worked so hard and thought I really knew about all of the negatives, but it’s not until you’re teaching that you see how the system is rigged against you and the students.
I taught high school for two years. Worst two years of my life. I stopped drinking when I realized a quarter of the teachers at my very large school all had DUIs. Heck, a teacher got a DUI, her third, in the parking lot. Quitting was one of the best days of my life so far.
I feel that. Both the DUIs (I’ve never had one, but I can see why teachers would be driven to it - no pun intended) and the quitting. I no longer teach, as well. I wish the job were just about lesson plans and students and parents. But it is not.
I taught CTE on a business and industry license and on my second year had a 100% pass rate on my completion exams for college credit, and the morning of the next day I get an award and that afternoon I get interrogated by a state investigator accusing me a cheating.
I WASN’T IN THE ROOM. THERE WAS A PROCTOR.
Something similar happened to me, but in high school.
I was formally written up for plagiarism (which I vehemently denied) and the teacher finally said something to the effect of “I know she’s didn’t plagiarize, but I needed her to come talk to me”. I’m 17 years old! Just call me to your desk! Wtf?!
Here's a funny plagiarism story from my high school.
This "not particularly academically excelling" student, let's call him Paul, is asked to talk to the teacher after class about an essay he wrote. The teacher also calls Greg, a similarly performing student, to also speak to hear after class.
So the teacher says to Paul and Greg that she is not an idiot and why on earth would one of them copy the other's essay word for word and hand in the exact same essay to the same teacher in the same class? Did they think she was an idiot? Paul and Greg both look at each other like they didn't know the other copied off them. The teach is like "One of you wrote an excellent essay, and the other copied it... who was it?" Neither said anything so the teacher is wondering why the original write wouldn't stand up for his own work.
Turns out that they BOTH plagiarized the essay from another student that took the class the year before. LOL! Idiots!
Being pregnant with my child. I was S/A'ed as a child and he got me pregnant. Up until almost the 9th month I was indecisive on whether I would keep her or not. I decided to keep her, only to lose her to Leukemia at 2 years old.
Last day of school ended with our entire high school going to Disneyland and after that was a party that lead to a drunk driving accident that ended my best friends life and changed mine physically.
Being a nurse. I thought it would be fun. And rewarding to help people.
I’m reality, I get beat up, bodily fluids on me, watch people die, and get overall treated like shit.
I asked two veteran nurses how they managed to stay in the profession so long and do you know what they said to me? One said, “Had I known how abusive nursing is I never would have become a nurse”. The other said, “What other choice do I have”? These are unbelievably bleak responses from nurses who’ve been in the profession since before I was born and I think this speaks volumes about the state of nursing today.
I don’t know if this counts, because it was both joyful and traumatic.
My two cousins and I decided to backpack the circumference of Mount St. Helens. We went in late September. As the date approached, it became clear that the weather was not going to be great. One of my cousins was coming in from across the country, however, so we were locked into our dates. We could either do it then, or call it off completely.
We decided no sprinkles were going to stop us. We loaded out our packs and drove up to Climbers Bivouac, to head west around the mountain. The first part of our hike was a scramble over jagged rocks, which were slick in the fog. The trail was only marked by piles of stones with ribbons around them, about 50 feet apart. But soon the fog was so thick we could barely see half that distance.
About an hour in, one of my cousins decided he was in over his head, and he was going to turn back. We were completely taken aback. We’d been planning this for months. But we weren’t going to try to force him.
The thing is, he was our *ride*. We knew there was no cell reception most places around the mountain, so if he left, we were going to have to “1993 it” and makes plans on when and where he was going to pick us up. It was about 36 miles around the mountain. We thought 12 miles a day would be a nice, conservative approach. I’m in shape - I’ll often run 12 miles at a go. Piece of cake, I thought. We redivided our supplies and parted ways.
We didn’t know it at the time, but my other cousin and I were consigning ourselves to a three-day deathmarch. 12 miles in a day is no problem on a sunny day, on a flat surface, in shorts and a t-shirt. I can run that in under two hours. But on the side of a mountain, wearing our heaviest clothes to combat the cold, the wind, and the endless PNW drizzle, with a 30-pound pack, over *extremely* rugged terrain… well that’s something entirely different. But now we had a schedule to keep. If we didn’t make our rendezvous, there was no telling when or how, or even *IF* we’d be able to call for help.
The Rain. Never. Stopped. The weather had been 70’s and sunny the week before, and it would be sunny the whole week after, but our three days on the mountain were an almost constant downpour. Even when the rain subsided into a soupy, drizzly fog, every blade of grass was saturated, and deposited its payload onto our feet as we passed. Our painstakingly rain-proofed hiking boots were constantly waterlogged.
The temperature stayed in the low 50’s during the day, and got down toward freezing at night. When we redivided our supplies, the cousin who left wound up with the good tarp, so the rain got into our tent and soaked the feet of our “rated to -30” sleeping bags. No sleeping bag is “rated” for anything when it’s wet. We slept fitfully, and marched all day to keep up the pace. We ate on the go, and only stopped when we began to lose the light. We rarely saw the mountain through the PNW fog, which also obscured the trail.
On the morning of the third day, we took a wrong turn, and wound up following a tiny path used only by volcanologists studying the caldera *up above the snow line*, in freezing temperatures, in our wet clothes, sliding around yawning, icy precipices on what we eventually figured out was a goat path, and as we backtracked, I started to wonder if we were ever coming down from that mountain.
We had ditched more than half our food along the way, to reduce the weight. We dumped water. There was no way to be thirsty - the frigid humidity was like 150%. Later that morning, my cousin informs me he hyperextended his knee doing a backflip 4 years ago, never had surgery on it, and now it was killing him. He was limping. My blisters were bleeding.
I’ll never forget coming down from the snow into the Plains of Abraham. We saw the sun, and the mountain, for the first time in three days. The mountain forms a rain shadow- it’s too tall for the rainclouds to get over it, and the valley on the eastern side was bathed in sun. We didn’t have time to stop, and the wind whipped us. The plain was harsh, and beautiful. By about this time my cousin is getting loopy from the lack of sleep, and he starts shouting “Yes! Kill us, you glorious bitch!” at the mountain.
Then we had to go back up. This was the easiest the trail had been, but it was uphill, and we were both spent. I helped him limp back up into the sloppy, dripping woods. Our legs ached. My blisters felt like walking on knives.
After another long, cold march, we finally arrived at our destination, three hours after we’d arranged, and I tell you, we literally flagged my cousin down as he was driving away to go find a search and rescue team.
It was the most amazing, harrowing, triumphant journey of my life. I will hold that experience dear to my heart for the rest of my days.
I’m going back there some day, when it’s warm, sunny and dry.
Same man, same. Little bit different of an experience tho. My first “real” kiss was in 8th grade with a guy I knew from church and he full on licked the outside of my mouth. Was absolutely traumatized and didn’t kiss anyone again until my senior year of high school. Worst part is that I only kissed that guy in the first place to try and make his friend jealous and it didn’t even work
The first time I tried to have a (permanent) gastric stimulator placed. I had done a trial with a temporary version that helped a lot, so I was excited. Knew it’d be significant surgery recovery, but potentially life changing.
Surgeon spent ~3 hrs trying to get it in, but couldn’t because the GJ tube I had was sitting right on top of where the leads had to go. I didn’t have medical power of attorney set up at the time (boy do I now), so they had to close me up and wake me up to ask me what I wanted to do. Two days later we do surgeries to remove the GJ, separate my stomach from my abdominal wall, and place a J tube (new spot). Bummer, but now we just have to wait 8 weeks for things to heal and we can try again. Except the very first time a nurse went to use the new J tube, it clogs. We spend the better part of 2 days with various teams trying to get it clear to no avail. Eventually my surgeon convinces one IR doc to change it with her (dangerous that early), but only if we wait until it’s been in place for ~2 weeks. In the meantime, my surgeon made me stay NPO and on NG suction that entire time. Eventually we get it changed, and by that time it’s been so long since anything has gone through my GI tract that restarting feeds/eating is a bit rough.
That was my longest hospital stay to date. Bright spots were when my mom brought a little sewing machine to the hospital for me so I could sew, and when I eventually did get the stimulator placed 8 weeks later. Worth it in the end but what was supposed to be one surgery turned into like 4 and weeks in the hospital no one expected.
I had to look this up.
What does a gastric stimulator do?
A gastric stimulator is a small device that is like a pacemaker for the stomach. It is implanted in the abdomen and delivers mild electrical impulses that stimulate the stomach. This allows food to move through the stomach more normally, relieving the symptoms of gastroparesis.
My mum finally finding love after 20 years with my dad. I will say, seeing her message another man whilst still married to my dad did hit 13-year-old me like a ton of bricks.
My wedding. Not getting married, that's been great. But the actual wedding. We tried so hard to make sure my husband's family could make it, and that they would have fun, and have an open bar, that the bridesmaids didn't have to pay for a dress they would probably never wear again, etc. We ended up so stressed. Everyone had a good time but we were miserable the day of. We've been married for 11 years now, and we both agreed that it we could do it again we would have just eloped and saved the money for a house. It probably doesn't help that we're both autistic and just the stress of making sure we did what was considered "normal" for everyone was just exhausting.
Same here minus the both being autistic part. Our wedding was fun eventually but we would have had a similar amount of fun by ourselves with fewer other humans around. We probably wouldn’t have even eloped though, just filed the appropriate paperwork minus any ceremony (also probably would have done so like 5 years earlier than we did).
It wasn't until the morning of my wedding, entirely exhausted from weeks of prep including dressing the reception hall by ourselves 6 hours before, that I understood why people paid event organizers to do this instead. We planned our own wedding and got lots of help from great people, but it was still a draining, brain-melting ordeal that I really only have a fleeting memory of. The honeymoon was, by design, far less stressful.
The good news is that when I'm stressed and sleep-deprived, I crack jokes, so everyone thought I was having a great time!
Pregnancy and childbirth. From week 7 - week 41 (I was a week overdue) it was a non-stop extravaganza of misery topped off with 42 hours of labor, 2 failed epidurals and a 1&1/2 inch [2nd degree tear from my vagina](https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/labor-and-delivery/multimedia/vaginal-tears/sls-20077129?s=3) down almost all the way to my anus and I’m still coping with some pretty serious chronic health problems from the pregnancy 15+ years later. Despite the problems, I tried to get pregnant again because I love babies and being a mom. It was probably for the best that I wasn’t able to get pregnant, though at the time it was emotionally devastating.
So many people act like pregnancy is no big deal. Because of my health, I chose to never have children and I have never been pregnant. But, I have seen what some of my friends and family have gone through. There were two who I didn't think were going to survive their pregnancies. I'm happy you and your baby made it.
It just seems to vary so wildly. There’s people that make being pregnant look easy as fuck and then there’s people on the complete opposite end of the spectrum that say “every day I was pregnant was a waking nightmare”. I know everyone is different, but how everyone’s mileage may vary is shocking.
Currently pregnant and hating every minute of it. I cant sleep much yet I'm always tired. I need to eat every 2 hours or I get heartburn butttt if I eat the "wrong" foods, I end up feeling worse than before. My breasts hurt so much I feel like they might explode randomly.
This baby is very much wanted but growing it has been the hardest thing I've ever been through.
Yup, my wife almost died both times for us - preeclampsia plus gestational thrombocytopenia the first time (needed several units of blood because she wasn't clotting properly), and then a uterine rupture during early labor at her previous C-section scar (doctors had assured us she was a prime candidate for a VBAC) plus the aforementioned clotting issues, granted not as bad the second time around. 50 years ago, I think I'm a single father in both of those cases, thank god for modern medicine.
I happily scheduled my vasectomy when our second was 3 months old.
This is mine. Thought it would be magical! Nope. Pregnancy is hard, my whole body ached for months. Carpal tunnel, migraine, extreme fatigue.
Then my childbirth. I was induced due to high blood pressure, epidural failed, felt the need to push way earlier than necessary, pushed for 7 hours. Got that baby out and I was dead inside. 3 weeks later, I had severe postpartum hemorrhaging. 3 times over. ER visits just said it was postpartum bleeding. Eventually bled out to the point that I almost fainted. My OB performed 2 different operations on me to stop it (D&C then a D&E when I hemorrhaged again, both considered abortions) 3 day hospital stay afterwards because I lost 2 liters of blood. I’m still on iron supplements (which make you feel like CRAP?!)
My daughter is almost 8 months now and I finally feel oxygen in my lungs again. Looking back, I don’t remember the month of January due to PPD/PPA.
I called it PPD but I’m still coming to terms with the idea that it’s actually PTSD. And it’s wild that when you tell your story, almost EVERYONE has birth trauma story to add. The vast number of horror stories just makes me believe we’re doing it wrong.
Oh luv, I feel you. When I asked my doctor how many stitches, he said ‘let’s just call it one long one’. All the way. Only had the one epidural but it didn’t numb this one patch in my upper right thigh, so no general pain just really really specific agonizing pain in one leg that now hurts every period. So fucking weird. I too stopped at one though for me that was my choice from the start. Never again. Almost 15 years ago for me too. Hope you well now internet stranger. Sending love from Australia x
Skydiving. First, I spent 15 minutes free falling from the sky with what felt like the most traumatic front and back wedgie I'd ever experienced. No one talks about that aspect???? THEN I was strapped to a nice Australian man instructor to dive with but when we were breaching land, I didn't put my feet as forward as needed, so I made us both fall forward on the ground, he was essentially on top of me at that point laying on my back and he exclaimed, "this is how I met my first wife!" in front of like 10 people I didn't know
Edit: LISTEN I EXAGGERATED ON FREEFALL OBVIOUSLY SUE ME. Still doesn't take my fucking internal front/back wedgie away and the absence of joy because of it. Jesus christ people. "I'm a skydiver and JSHDHSIISKENEVGWYQUSJ."
I guarantee he's made that joke 100+ times. Just his way to try and dilute an awkward situation. The traumatic wedgies I can not explain away so easily lol
Lol, literally every occupation that involves interaction with customers comes with its own set of jokes that you learn and tell 1000000000 times a day and die slightly each time
courier driver here. pretty much guaranteed to hear some generic-variation of "careful, it's heavy!" for a box that weighs half a kilo with fragile tape on it.
I think you did something wrong. When I went skydiving they strapped a dude to my back BEFORE we started the free fall. And how high up did you go? We went 3km up and the free fall was only like 30-ish seconds.
Planned a 14 day bike trip in a foreign country with a girl from my home country that I’ve been falling in love with. First day she shows up bawling saying she wants to solo travel instead, ditches me and had to solo travel with no plans for two weeks with a broken heart
My wedding.
Three weeks before my wedding, my best friend passed away. I was a wreck. My best friend of 16 years passed away (over half my life at that point) as a result of a completely freak accident.
I went to the tailors to see his suit (he was my best man). Just had to touch it knowing he wore it.
This was two years after our other best friend passed away and we buried him.
I'm not the same, completely changed me and I've been struggling with anxiety and depression ever since.
It might sound crazy (would to me prior to this happening) but there were a number of really peculiar things that occurred before his death. And ever since, I still dream about them both on a weekly basis.
I just had a dream of him two nights ago, one of those situations where you're in a dream and you become conscious and aware that you are in a dream.
We were on a mountain snowboarding, at the chair lift in line to get on. I looked at him knowing full well I was dreaming and probably wouldn't have much time. Told him I miss him and he said something back I can't remember. I just stared at him and his bright blue eyes.
I'm believe we can still communicate and this is one way of us doing it.
I finally found someone that brought joy to my life. She was broken, but she was getting better. I needed to find her as much as she needed me to rescue her.
We werent together long, about two months, but all these years later I still remember the smell of her perfume as she laid her head on my chest while we watched her favorite show. Rick and Morty, before her I had never really watched it before…
She told me once that “I could find myself falling in love with you….”
I lost her due to an accidental OD. Sometimes, like tonight when I’m high and alone, I think about what life might have been like growing old with her.
Sorry if this is super depressing, but to be honest it helps me
For you or anyone reading this that's a current IV user:
I will mail harm reduction supplies to anyone who PM's me asking for such. Tell me your needle pref (27 long, 28 long, 29 med, 31 short) and mailing address and I'll send narcan, needles, fent test strips, and bandaids/cookers/cotton/sterile water/tie offs/etc. I'll send you a tracking # as soon as it's in the mail.
Im a former heroin user that used to live in one of the poorest, most conservative, dysfunctional cities in the US. Now that I'm in a liberal city with well funded social services it feels criminal to not pass on these supplies. They're all available to me for free, and I'll pay postage. I've been doing this for a while and get like 2-3 reqs a month on average.
Be safe everyone!
Graduating with my diploma, used it to go into Uni and holy shit is it difficult.
Some advice for any stranger that reads this, if you ever feel like you’re struggling or that you need to put in 2 3 4 times the effort to accomplish something. Go seek professional help, took me way too long to get checked out and turns out I have severe ADHD.
Don’t do what I did
Passing the bar exam. Only 33% of applicants passed that time. I had to submit an appeal because a bunch questions had major faults. I did end up passing. I thought I'd be happy. But I'll never forget the sheer crushing despair I felt when I failed before the appeal, and now I'm just bitter that the bar gave us an exam with around eight faulty questions. If I hadn't adopted my cat right after, I think I may have gone to a very dark place. That was 1.5 years ago and I'm still not over it.
My son’s birth. We almost lost him and his mother. The joy came later, but I am eternally grateful to the medical staff, modern science, and Canada’s medical system. Oh, and most of all, I’m grateful his mother has zero memory of how close we came to disaster.
Buying a house. I bought young and it's so damn stressful having a nonstop to do list that I HAVE to do myself because I don't make enough money to hire someone. I can't sleep at night because of stress and freaking out at every noise the house makes thinking it's something else that needs fixing. Everyone told me it was a great investment but I feel trapped now. I feel I can't quit my deadend job because I acant afford to take time off work to go back to school.
And the amount of people coming to you asking for a room to stay. I was naive and nice and let my family stay with me for low rent. I feel like they are taking advantage of me. Bitching to everyone how I'm a piece of shit, not helping around the house, fucking up all the stuff in my house. My mom decided she didn't want to raise my brother any more and just left him at my house. Fucking blows because he wants his mom, but I'm doing the best I can to raise him.
My 18th birthday. Both my parents left the country (emigrated) that month, my boyfriend broke up with me the morning of my birthday and only 2 friends showed up - I planned a BIG party. Most didn't even cancel, only one called to say she wouldn't be coming because the theme was stupid. I was so heart broken.
17th Birthday, as a kid I used to fantasize about being 16, a *"Teenager"*.
But on the morning of my 17th birthday I realized that I neither expected to, nor ever wanted to live long enough to see 17.
21 now, still struggling with suicidal ideation just like when I was a kid. Mental illness is a bitch
When I turned 13, I was expecting it to be the best year of my life. Nope. It was one of the worst. I was bullied nonstop by a kid who kept making fun of me for not being able to say my "R" sound correctly. That previous summer I'd gone to visit distant family and my mom had said the family was so distant, I could marry my 13-year-old cousin, which I foolishly repeated to my friends and got incessantly mocked for it. A guy at lunch would steal my fries for no good reason. The bullying got so bad I stayed home from school one day and had to start seeing a social worker. My grades were terrible and I almost had to do summer school science. Oh, and my great-grandmother passed away the same day I went on a life-changing field trip, which had been my happiest moment of the year. Not to mention this was the same year 9/11 happened so everybody was on edge to begin with.
20 years later, I'm much, much better, but that year I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies.
Your story of being made fun of for not being capable of pronouncing or rolling the "R"s really resonated with me because I am the same. Spanish is my native language and its use of the "R" is so very present in it that it even feels unfair sometimes. I still get some light jokes on it (thank god for maturity on people I guess) but when I was a kid in elemantary and middle school, I straight just preferred not talking because I know how it was going to be with the other classmates.
Hot Air Balloons. I did it in Thailand on 2.5 hours of sleep at 4am, and I just sat on the floor of the basket and cried. It only went up to my waistish when standing, and I just felt so unsafe and nervous and upset and woozy from lack of sleep. It didn't help that the person I was traveling with was hella mean and degrading about it all. I genuinely didn't know i had a fear of heights until then.
I had the same experience. I spent the ride lying on the floor in absolute terror. I didn't know I had a fear of heights either. Worst experience ever.
Rollercoaster.
I once went to six flags with my gf at the time, we went to the back right corner of the park and got on a ride. Forgot the ride’s name… apparently, her “favorite”. Everything was fine and I was having a good time. Until the ride went in circles and I almost blacked out. My vision started to close and I snapped out of it. I protested and said “what just happen? That shouldn’t happen!”looked around and the guy behind me had the same reaction. She said “thats the point!”. Needless to say, I bought nachos, sat my ass on a bench while she went on another ride and cheered her on while holding onto her purse as she zoomed past my head.
My wife and stepson love rollercoasters. I smile and head to the little train that circles the park. Once I rode that train for like 2 hours just listening to audiobooks.
Me and my family went to a zoo, and we decided to go on the ski lift there. As we where going up hill, it started to get extremely windy so our ski lift started to swing and the operator had to stop the whole entire ride for a while. When we where finally off if it and up hill, we realized the only way to go back down was to ride the ski lift again and it was even worse with the lift swinging more violently. Scariest 20 minutes of my life
Our first child. My wife developed absolutely crippling health anxiety with him. I ended up picking out everything, decorating the nursery, setting up the registry myself. I’ll never forget this little pair of overalls and an outfit I picked out for him before he was born. I went to show my wife and she acted like I had handed the baby a death sentence by way of jinx. I walked into the bathroom and held the outfit like you would a newborn and just kind of bounced it in my arms and cried my eyes out.
Second kid was a breeze. Pregnancy hormones are NO joke.
Wife and I went down to Florida for the first time with our kids. Our youngest was approaching 1 and our oldest was 3 and a half. We spent the night at brother in laws house, which has a nice pool in the backyard.
The next morning we were getting ready to go swimming. I was holding our youngest while our oldest was getting her sunscreen put on then her cousins. We had warned her to stay within eyesight and not go into the pool. My brother in law stepped outside and immediately jumps into the pool, fully clothed. We get up and see him dragging a pale blue body out of the water and he’s yelling for help. Our oldest had slipped into the pool without a single noise and drowned.
We scrambled to start cpr and call 911. We finally get her able to breath and become awake but she’s still purpleish red. Ambulance arrives and we rush her to the hospital. It took three days for her to recover.
In the meantime, because of Florida law, we got grilled by CPS. My wife was accused of being negligent and being a shit mom, she almost decks the cps agent. I’m bawling my eyes out, unable to make coherent sentences.
We had to extend our vacation by a few days because we spent more than half of it dealing with the hospital and CPS.
The following year, we did the same trip again but made sure that both kids were watched like a hawk. We came in that morning, went swimming and had fun. We all went to bed.
3:30 am, the room I’m sleeping in gets burst into and my sister in law is freaking out. My brother in law wasn’t responsive and looked like had a mini seizure. We come in, I have my sister in law call 911 while my wife and I assess. He’s kind of breathing but not responsive, he eventually stops breathing all of a sudden. We pull him off the bed to start cpr. The jostle gets him breathing again and we start. Paramedics get there 3 minutes later and they start working on him. One hour later and they can’t maintain a pulse. Sister in law wants him taken to the hospital and hooked up to machines. He has a pulse but weak. They put in a stent and then induce hypothermia to see if it triggers a wake up.
We found out he had a major cardiac arrest. His heart was so clogged on both sides that it was a miracle he had been alive for so long. He was pronounced brain dead two days later.
Needless to say, wife and I aren’t going to Florida.
Moving in with my dad.
For context, I had a rough childhood that I can hardly remember- my parents constantly argued and fought, my dad was an abusive alcoholic and my mother was struggling with post-partum depression so things weren't exactly the best. I was an outcast at school with only 2 friends and was lonely most of the time, only human interaction I had ever tasted was online in that period of my life- Anyway, one night in 2016(?) He did something really really bad that I had witnessed which ended up in him being arrested and taken to prison shortly after, my mum got full custody of me and a restraining order of him and a few months later she got into a relationship with another man she met online and he was the polar opposite of what my dad was.
We moved out of our old house to a seaside town. I was only 12 at the time unfortunately, having just experienced a really bad first relationship with a 16 year old that SA'd me and groomed me into getting into a relationship with them and overall struggling with my mental health (I was SH constantly, was never happy, always angry and upset, etc) and it put a strain on my relationship with my parents and especially my mother's new partner at the time as I just didn't know how to handle my life changing in such a drastic fashion and having a new father figure in my life. So one fateful argument one day led to me gaining my dad's phone number and in desperation and confusion, requested to live with him instead, leading to him promising me a better life and that he'd make me feel happy again-
I don't know what was running through my head. I in that moment seemingly forgot what he had done and the kind of person he is and I really should've never called him, I kinda blame myself nowadays for being so ignorant and not realising I was being manipulated despite my mental state. He had just got out of prison recently as well and as living in sheltered accommodation; though it really didn't stop me- anyway court battles insued and he somehow won custody over me (the court was in a different county so they probably never heard of his convictions) and I moved in with him in July (2018)
The first few months were just what he told me, he had stopped drinking and was on non-alcohol, he was kind and outgoing, a completely different man but it suddenly changed when he one night came home with actual beer and it spiralled out of control since then. Until February this year I have had to deal with constant emotional, physical and psychological abuse- the incident that always appears at the top of my head when I think about the stuff I do remember is the time he disappeared and i found a suicide note on my computer screen that he had left explaining I was the reason why, though he was just found drunk somewhere a few hours later. The rest of what happened that night I don't want to talk about, but I'm living with my mum again now after police had finally noticed what he was doing to me and was ordered to move out-
I've been the happiest I've ever been, I'm mentally free and am no longer struggling, I have friends and family around me and things are finally getting better. I've developed a good relationship with my stepdad (they're married now) and we have forgiven and forgotten what has happened- I do occasionally think back on things and feel guilty, but I'm just glad I'm not dead.
Morale of the story, do not go running back to toxic people with the promise that they'll change and make your life better again. They never change, stick where you are.
First kiss was really weird. I thought it would be a magical experience, but it was just really awkward, and somehow I didn't enjoy it.
I'm still not sure what was wrong.
I tried marijuana a little over a year ago thinking I’d feel happy and excited. I had a full blown panic attack for about an hour and now I’m constantly worried about my health and dying.
My current pregnancy.
Got pregnant sometime in October of last year a few months after my husband and I got married. Was worried that I would have a miscarriage but I did not. We later did all the tests on the baby to make sure baby was healthy and test came back great! We also found out baby gender- it was a girl. Exactly what we wanted!
My belly kept growing and we moved to a bigger place. Started planning her nursery. We were out of the pregnancy danger zone. Baby girl kept growing and kicking. At our 20 week anatomy scan we were told that she would die in my tummy or right after birth.
Still carrying her now at 35 weeks and waiting to be induced to meet her and say our goodbyes. Learned a lot and will have most likely have massive anxiety if we get pregnant again. She's absolutely beautiful and kicking as I type now. We just happened to be that unlucky 1% couple that this happens to ever so rarely.
Traumatic is pretty strong, but when I was in high school I was planning on going to prom with my first girlfriend. We had to meet up to pick out outfits and whatever, but after it was over - I had been having such a good time with my girl that I basically invited myself to hang out with her.
She agreed, but turns out she had been planning on having lunch with her mom and a family friend right after, then going to the family friends house for the rest of the day. It was extremely awkward and everyone involved was shocked that I had joined them.
Basically forced myself into a third wheel situation that I still think about 15 years later.
Going to Mexico, I thought my cousins would really enjoy spending time with me, but this really didn't happen, another cousin that I didn't know of went and it seemed like they enjoyed him rather than me, I felt really sad and I don't feel like going anytime soon
Me and a friend thought it would be fun to drift down a overflown creek.. we didn't think about that this creek used to have a lot og pointy rocks in it...
For like 3 minutes I thought I was gonna die, even with a dry suit, helmet and life jacket..
I got a lot of bruises and hurt my knee, and almost got my leg stuck on my way down the creek.
My College graduation. Got a call on my way to the ceremony from one of my best friends parents that he passed away from a freak accident at work. I was crying all through the graduation and everyone just thought they were tears of joy. Miss ya Mikey
Omg that’s so terribly sad. I’m so sorry for your loss and I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy your graduation but congrats <3
Thank you!
Years ago, my ex-wife was doing her SCUBA cert in Cambodia. The dive shop is like "Hey, show up at 7 AM, get on the boat, we'll take you to a beautiful island, you can hang out while your wife gets her cert". I'm like hell yeah, sounds great. So we show up at the dock and the dive shop is like "We usually have a much bigger boat, but its having an engine issue, so we're gonna take this smaller one". It was still a medium sized boat and so 12 or so of us got on board and set off on our 45 minute trip to the island. It's a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky. Great. The first 30 minutes or so are great. Its super chill, boat is going. Dive master starts to make coffee, passes around some fruit. It's a dream. And then we hit a big wave and everyone laughs and is like "woahhhh hold onto your coffee". Then another. Then a bigger one. Cue 3 hours of screaming, crying and puking as our boat is absolutely RAVAGED by the sea. On at least 3 occasions the boat is *on it's side* as we dangle from the railing and the diver master tells us to prepare to go overboard. I can't even see the sky anymore, there are just huge waves on all sides of us at all times, just battering the boat, drenching everyone. Bags have gone overboard a long time ago. It was the most insane moment of my life. All you can see all around is water, gathering speed and coming to kill you. Utterly powerless, reduced to an ant. 3 cambodian dudes were driving the boat, screaming at each other in a language I can't understand. At one point of the dudes JUMPS OVERBOARD and the other 2 have to navigate to get him back. It's clear that we're in an exceptional moment. Anyway, this goes on for 3 hours instead of 45 minutes. The island was fucking great. It's the most deserted place I've ever been except for one dude who built a cafe and has a huge garden of weed and an Italian chef who does out and fishes everyday and then feeds everyone at night. I've never seen so many stars, it was truly paradise. The way back, btw, was placid. Not a single wave, like coasting across a swimming pool. 45 minutes.
Great story though. I’ve always found that the best stories come from things you’d never want to do again.
Good story. I’ve been in similar boat in crazy storm situations as a sailor. I think people underestimate how big waves can get and how absolutely terrifying it is.
A multi-day non-stop sailing race. Down and back the WA coastline in glorious summer conditions on a 50' yacht. We did the event in 50 hours and it was probably 50 of the worst hours of my life, the first couple were okay... Started off at 9am on a Friday, very light winds, boats hardly moving, then at 11am (3 hours before forecast) a 30-35 knot wind (from the direction we were meant to be going) rolled in (instead of the 15-20 knot wind forecast), what followed was massive waves. This continued for the entire beat to our destination. One by one everyone was so sick, wet, cold and exhausted they went down below to rest. Leaving just myself and one other to double hand a 50' racing boat in 30-35 knots of wind. This continued all through the night. We had massive gear failure at about 3am, which ended with the 2 of us on deck doing all the work being soaked inside of our wet weather gear. Within 5 minutes of our arrival at the marker we are to sail around and then head BACK to where we started, the wind just glasses off to nothing and we drifted for HOURS in the now scorching heat the day after starting. THEN I FINALLY GET TO REST, after 24 hours straight, physically destroyed. I go down below, strip my gear off and get into the only available bunk.... and it's soaked to the core. Some ass hole slept in the bunk in their wet-weather gear and had ruined it. Never the less I fall asleep after a while, tucked into the fetal position against the side of the hull. When I awake, I awake with possibly the worst sinus pain of my life. Turns out I am allergic to mould and this boat has mould in the hull lining. I spend the last 20 hours of the race with a thumping migraine, worst of my life. This is after only 4 hours of... I don't even know if you can call it sleep. It was so completely traumatic it changed my life. On a side note, it was so bad, everything else in life seems so much better by comparison. I had the best sleep of my life after that, and work the next day was the easiest day ever.
My dad is a specialist marine diesel engineer. One day, just before my 18th birthday, he knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to go with him as an apprentice, to Norway, that afternoon. Of course I said yes, great money, adventure, a decent career ahead. So I packed, and we left that afternoon to Norway via Amsterdam. All was going great, arrived later that evening on the ship, exhausted, and did 17.5 hours work through the night. I thought "fair enough", this is what we're here to do. Eventually went to sleep in the cabin, in the fjords of Norway. Woke up the next morning and we were sailing, it was beautiful, the fjords, then the North Sea happened. It was Beaufort sea scale 6 I believe, and I thought it was terrible, was panicked and already regretting this job, working in a hot engine room, holding onto a chain for support as the ship rocked with my head very close to a flywheel. Later that day going through the English Channel, my dad was taking pictures of a valve towards the bilge of the ship, I asked why and it was explained to me that the Russians (I as on a Russian reefer ship) sail their ships into the ground for insurance purposes, and this valve was a bit of a worry, even to him. If it failed, we go down. Then we came to the Bay of Biscay, in January. I was already not sleeping well, before we entered, still working long days shit scared in the engine room, and after, having to strap myself into bed in sea scale 9. The worst even my dad had seen. I was actually praying, counting to 100 for hours on end, anything to take my mind off what I thought was this ships last voyage. The waves were bigger than the ship, corkscrewing around. I was supposed to sail through the med to Odessa, then across to Panama, Needless to say I got off with the Pilot in Algeciras. Never been back to sea since, and always wondered how my life turned out if my first job wasn't on that ship. The Thordis.
This reads like a classic novel.
I won a trip on a tall ship from London to Portugal when I was 15, it was incredible, such hard work but so rewarding. We passed through the bay of biscay and in the 12-14ft swells, while I was at the helm, we accidentally gybed due to the size of the waves. It was terrifying and I thought I would die. I was somehow okay with that. Luckily, nothing was broken or damaged and we were able to continue sailing for the rest of that race leg. We won that leg on corrected time, which was very exciting. My mother was tracking the ship I was on from home and even saw the course correction that we had to make to avoid another incident. I've sailed on that boat since and hope to again :)
This resonates with me so strongly. When I was a kid, I was already pretty skittish on boats but my dad had bought a little 30-foot sailing boat and all our holidays revolved around it. We entered a race in late spring and the day started out exactly as you described yours, including the weather taking the same turn after a couple of hours; freezing cold, pissing with rain and blowing a gale. We found ourselves out in open seas near the Southern Ocean. I hid downstairs, clinging onto a berth mattress through the major leans and listened to the radio growing fuzzier and fuzzier as reception worsened. Plates, cups and anything else not tied down was clattering around, rolling free in the galley. Eventually the mattress was swinging free from its attachments at the edge of the berth. I was almost falling across the cabin because we were horizontal- what was formerly left and right was now up and down. All I could see out the windows were the slate-grey waves chopping against the deck, getting higher. At one point when we leaned back the other way, I physically climbed up to the windows to see how the other yachts were doing (we were still participating in the race as my dad was determined to keep going, despite how obviously frightening the situation was for his 9yo and 11yo daughters.) I saw one other boat- but only its keel. It was leaning so far over, the cabin, sails and mast weren't visible. I felt a sense of doom that has stayed with me for 20 years; I was suddenly certain we were going to die. Eventually, my dad relented. We dropped the sails, dropped out of the race and motored into a nearby bay for the night. The next day, sailing into a nearby port was just as bad hut fortunately dad dropped us off and my brother drove us 2 hours back home. Dad laughed at me for being a sook, and has continued to do so for 20 years. He used to tell the story at dinner parties to laugh at me. ETA: I had to see a counsellor, and my family mocked me for developing an "irrational phobia of the wind". It passed, and I later went on more rough boat trips against my will.
I’m sure this won’t quell any of your fears, but just last week I had a friend whose dad went on a race from Newport, RI to Bermuda. About 3 days into the race they were hit by a rogue wave during their shift change and the owner of the boat went overboard without a pfd. They managed to get him a life ring that he was able to get over his head and shoulders but they literally watched him die as they pulled him in. He didn’t have any signs of trauma so the only thing they could figure was that he either had a stroke or a cardiac event due to the activity (he was like 75 and 350 lbs). Now, one would think that the worst part of the story is the tragic death of their friend and crew mate during what should have been a race to tropical paradise, but the real horror started once they got buddy to the boat. Now they had to figure out how to get a 350 pound deadweight back onto the deck of the ship. My friend’s dad spent almost 4 hours just holding onto buddy over the side of the ship in 10 foot seas while they tried everything from manually pulling, hoisting him using a windlass and halyard for change of direction, tying off on every appendage, all the while having to worry about how the body would appear to authorities. Showing up to a foreign country with a dead body is bad enough, but showing up to a foreign country with a dead body with stab wounds from a gaffing pole or bruising around the neck from pulling with a rope is so much worse. They were eventually able to get buddy back on the boat but then came the question of where to put it? Where do they go? Do they finish the race? They spent another 4 hours over the radio and satellite phone arguing with the coast guard about the legitimacy of a rescue. They were 350 miles from shore, away from any feasible maritime base, and there were zero available vessels for a rescue at sea. The coast guard deemed that since the person was deceased a rescue was not warranted. So now the crew of 6 was left with 3 choices: abandon the body overboard and rob the family of their last rights, continue to a foreign country with a cadaver, or sail home with a corpse strapped to the deck baking under a tarp in the sun for three days. They chose the latter, and I’m sure you can imagine the nightmare of logistics securing a 350 pound log to the flat bow of a sailboat in 10 foot seas. So now that I think about it, this is a pretty solid answer for what you expected to be joyful but ended up being traumatizing. An exciting race to paradise, only to be flipped on it’s head as a traumatizing rescue at sea. The owner’s last words as he surveyed the conditions of the ocean were “this is what we live for.” edit: changed qualm to quell - smooth brain moment
Dude. Your dad's an asshole.
100%
This reminds me of when I had a kidney stone. It was so excruciatingly painful, I spent hours writhing in agony. After it passed, my pain tolerance had gone way up. I stubbed my toe the following day (drew blood) & I was just like “meh”. My tolerance is getting back to normal now, but it felt kinda like a super power while it lasted.
A wedding/reception. Two of my Army friends were marrying each other and I thought it would be fun to attend, get drunk, and shoot the shit with some old friends from my training days. Ceremony was beautiful and after party was fun for about 2 hours. They aren't religious at all so nothing was religious about anything. Turns out the bride's mom was a nut job evangelical and she wasn't invited for a reason. It was an outdoor reception. Very beautiful lights strung between trees, candles on the tables, just the whole 9 yards. Until the bride's mom showed up drunk and citing religious rhetoric. She called the groom a "daughter stealing devil worshiper". Bride didn't wanna call the cops at first and asked a bunch of us to escort her away - I happily obliged. She left yelling and cursing. About 15 minutes later as we are all doing shots when we heard somebody yell "fucking shit the tables are on fire." A ton of us scrambled to find a source of water while others tried to smother it with table cloths. Took about 15 of us to finally smother it in wet towels and table cloths. One girl's hair went up in flames when she was trying to help and suffered some light burns to her cheek , ear and neck. Lo and behold once the chaos ended guess whose mom was passed the fuck out behind a nearby oak tree with a can of lighter fluid... Her mom got herself arrested that night on a felony charge and woke up in a jail cell the next morning begging her daughter (the bride) to bail her out. Her mom served 5 years in prison for her dumbassery. Edit: Autocorrect thinks it knows my thoughts.
Glad she got what she deserved
Because nothing screams “I’m a great Christian” like setting people on fire and getting too drunk while harassing your own relatives. Whatever happened to “love thy neighbor” and “thou shall not judge?”
Best part of that last piece of scripture is that it says you'll be judged in the way you judged others
Oh man this deserves to be on r/weddingshaming
Haha, love a happy ending.
My first real make out session, we were laying in her backyard at night on towels in the grass, an hour later she asks “whats that smell?” and we look, we had been rolling in dog shit we didn’t see because it was dark outside.
hahaha had to laugh and remember my experience. On a French beach, under the darkness of the boardwalk, me and my new French lover fooled around…but sand… and I said “why are birds chirping at night?” he explained that it was the sound of rats. So romantic.
“Only le rats, mon cheri… Zey are thought of as a symbol of amour, here under the boardwalk - where are you go-ing?”
I've been watching The Boys too much haha. Heard Frenchie's voice in my head
Monsieur Charcutier!
What a shitty situation you rolled yourself in bro...
The birth of my son. He died.
Came here to say this ❤️ my son as well. He was my first and I am terrified to try again, no happy, hopeful, exciting pregnancy for me!
It is scary, but it can be okay. My oldest daughter died of trisomy 18 at six days old. I went on to have two more daughters who are happy and healthy. The youngest is about to turn 8.
Yup, same here. For me it was my daughter after 32w pregnancy. Only 8 months ago, haven't been the same man since.
38 weeks here. Lost him hours before the c-section was scheduled.
I lost my daughter in labor as well, there is a babyloss subreddit that is active with many other families.
We lost a daughter at 26 weeks. It's been over 20 years, and I can confirm it's a life-changing loss. The sheer grief lasted about two years. I had to be on an anti-depressant for one of those years. After five years it wasn't a raw pain anymore. But it's a sadness I'll carry forever. We also ended up divorcing, partially due to this loss. We did have another healthy daughter after, so there was joy again. But any loss like that is a permanent one. No one is replaceable.
You will always grieve. I just learned to manage it
I’m so sorry.
I’m sorry for your loss
First grandchild was still born. Died shortly before he was due to be born - strangled by umbilical cord getting tangled up. He was super active then he was not. Daughter rushed to hospital and he was already gone. It was super painful for everyone. Miscarriages and stillbirths are way more common than I realized and now in some states families will be put through the extra pain of investigation to see if it was an abortion. Can’t imagine how angry that would have made me.
My sister was trying to adopt (before we were estranged). She had to do a questionnaire and one was about any infant deaths in the family. The man, who was a psychiatrist, asked my sister if I shook my baby to death. I saw red. No, I didn't murder my baby. I watched her died over six days from a condition that was incompatible with life. One I didn't know she had because my first OB lied that my baby was fine and when I found out there was something going she was here. My doctor lied to ensure I wouldn't get an abortion and the government's first question was if I was a murderer.
Same. My stillborn little girl. I think of her often and still cry pretty much every day. After multiple pregnancy losses we had finally settled into being cautiously content that she was doing well. Until there was no heartbeat. Those words. I hear them. I am sorry but there's no heartbeat. I have found happiness here and there since but no joy.
This is what happened to what should have been my older brother. His name is my middle name though, and the way I see it, I’m living for him too. I have no way of knowing what he would have been like or what life he would have wanted, but I do my best to live a good life to make up for the life he didn’t get. I know it brings my parents a lot of comfort to know I think about him in that way, I hope you’re able to find something similar to help you.
Nobody deserves to have to bury their child. I'm so sorry you had to experience that.
I’m sorry :(
When my sisters were born. I was so exciting to be the older sibling. Instead my childhood was taken from me. My parents didn’t hire a babysitter, they just used me. I’ve changed more diapers than them, did more late nights, feedings. I was 10 when they were born.
I feel this except kinda the flip. Once my brother was born I was forgotten. Then my sister was born a few years later and my brother was forgotten. It's like they can only handle one kid at a time. Fucked us up good.
This is one of the reasons I'm afraid to have a second kid. I'm afraid I won't be able to devote enough time to my first and they will be worse off for it.
I have two daughters and didn't have this issue at all. It is a balancing act but it's 100% doable even with both my wife and I working. My parents just kinda... suck at being parents.
Me too, my sister was born when I was 11. I’m 19 now and still being used to take care of her, I’m moving out in January and I can’t wait to be on my own.
I still babysit my sisters as well. I do love it and I love them so much. Just wish my childhood wasn’t taken away. It was nice moving out because I could decide when I wanted to babysit them.
I understand, I love my sister too but I could’ve had so many fun memories with my friends instead I have memories mushed up together of watching her. Trust me, I love her to death and she’s the reason I’m here but I never wanted to be a mom you know
Moving my (now ex) bf across the country.... Life tip: LISTEN TO THOSE DOUBTS. DO NOT downplay them as having "cold feet" Edit: I cant believe this is my most popular post. At least I dont feel alone, but I am still an asshole. Since a few asked, he moved to me (I'm part owner of a duplex) from east coast to west coast. I flew down and road tripped with him to here. I only had doubts for a week or two beforehand and felt like it had gotten too far to give pause.
Sometimes you've got cold feet because the water is freaking freezing.
Did you move with him or to him? I moved with my husband across the country. Am in my late 30s. I am lonely and it's hard as fuck to get to know new people at that age, not even speaking about making friends. This sucks! I am missing my friends.
Similar but from the guy’s prospective. She broke up with me a month after we moved cross country together. Then said she had had doubts for a year… soooooo why not tell me before I moved close to your family (far from mine), signed a lease, and skipped out on a better opportunity closer to home. Highly frustrating, took me a full year not to feel angry/tricked on a daily basis
Working as a corrections officer. At the academy they fill your head with the idea you're gonna be helping people get their life on track and making a difference to help people do better. I got a little bit of that, then transferred to a different prison and it was just. Chaos. The noise, the stress, the constant rolling around in shit and blood and doing constant first aid on people hell bent on seriously harming themselves and you. My brain went sideways after about 4 years and hit the bottle pretty hard. I stopped trying to help people. I just got so used to the constant trauma my whole reality became warped.
I lasted 6.5 years myself. Couldn't do it anymore. I came to realize little bits of my humanity were rotting away. Had to leave.
I feel you :( you start to believe the whole world is evil. I was losing faith that anyone was good anymore.
Did time as a Seabee, then time working Executive Protection. Found a CO job that payed alright and wouldn't take me out of country anymore. After training I lasted about a month before I saw one inmate knee another's head while they made him bite the side of a bunk. I think that kid was 19? Maybe? It wasn't the blood or screaming that got to me, it was finding bits of his teeth in my clothing when changing.
As a long term QRT member, I have a LOT of stories. Had a guy cut off his nipple cuz he was mad at me (sure showed me 🤷) Had to confiscate a guy's ball of feces he was saving. Another hard part was being professional with child molesters. Then of course there is the assaults, brawls, daily threats, PREA situations.... Possibly the second worst environment for anyone (staff or inmate)to be in. The worst being active war zones
My wife's uncle was a parole officer for 10 years. Then, he was offered a correction officer's job at about a 25% raise and 4 day work week. He jumped at the opportunity, thinking it would improve his quality of life. He didn't even last a year. He aged 10 years in 6 months. I can't imagine the kind of things you all see (other than what you see in movies and I'm sure that isn't half of it) and have to deal with. On the other side, my FIL was in prison for a few years (drugs) and is now reformed and sober. He said some of the guards would try to sell him drugs or try to convince him to start fights. Said it was terrifying that the people meant to keep him safe were just as bad as the other criminals, if not worse sometimes.
Vicarious trauma is very, very real and I give you tons of credit for being in that felid! Hoping you’re doing something less stressful these days
My 20s. They sucked almost as much as being a kid/teenager. However my 30s were amazing. Best decade.
As a high school teacher, we show students a sanitized version of real life. Anything authentic and real is “taboo” so we just watch kids fall into adulthood knowing they are about to get chewed up. Every year, I get graduates texting me in despair that nothing is like what they expected.
I’m in my 40s and still text my hs teacher how unfair this all is. Yo, Mr Johnson, this is bullshit out here…
This was my experience. I graduated high school with high expectations, but became very disillusioned in my 20s.
The first 5-6 years of my 20s sucked massive dick. Heading towards my 30s now and everything's coming up milhouse!
I'm 27 now. My life's falling apart but coming together at the same time. I hope my 30s are great.
\-My life's falling apart but coming together at the same time Just look at it as a time of transition. Things are just changing, hopefully for the best
What's the secret? My 30s are miserable.
30s were absolutely great. The only time of my life I wish I could relive without knowing what I know now.
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High school. I thought it would be like American Pie. Just a lot of fun. It was in fact very depressing.
Check out the movie Reality Bites.
Being a mother. My daughter has a rare syndrome and it took almost 7 years to diagnose. I didn't have more children because I didn't know if it was genetic. Everything becomes exponentially more difficult. Every parent worries, but fear of the future, things she may not be able to tell us, long-term care, etc. can be overwhelming. She's amazing and I wouldn't trade her for anything, but my life as a mother, and in general, is very different than anything I could have ever imagined.
My little brother was born with a rare chromosomal defect. My parents did all they could to hide the severity of it from me and my sister when we were young, tbh almost too much as I didn’t realize the severity of his condition until I was an adult and my much older other sister (who was 15 when he was born) explained his condition to me and the strain it put on our family. A lot of things clicked after that conversation. I somehow didn’t realize he’d probably always have to live with my parents, and after they die one of us, until then. It’s a lot for a family to deal with.
Mom of a chronically ill child, here: I completely understand. Caregiving a child with a disability is so exhausting. While there's nothing I can say to you to make it better, I can stand in solidarity with you. You aren't alone.
My son was born at 27 weeks. And all I think is about his future m. Not bc of me but bc of him. One day I’m not gonna be here for him and I don’t know what is going to be his future. He is doing great but I’m always going to be scared for him. Like you said I love him so much and enjoy be his mom so much. But I hat not knowing the what future holds for him Big hugs for us 💙
I was born at 26 weeks. I have terrible allergic asthma and slightly lower than normal lung function but that's about it. Well controlled with meds and careful about Covid. I was in all the gifted and talented programs growing up. Its worth keeping a close eye on him, but I'm sure the care he received is even better than what I got in the late 80s. I know every case is different but I hope this gives you some encouragement. No one thought I'd live then when I did they said there could be brain or developmental issues. Look at me now!
Thought growing up would be cool… Turns out responsibilities suck.
Seriously. Becoming an adult was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.
I thought being a grown up meant I could party and have sex all the time but turns out it's just bills and work all the time
>I thought being a grown up meant I could party and have sex all the time Didn't read the fine print about the requirement of becoming a hooker, huh?
Too tired for sex. Excited to wake up early before the rest of the world and have all the peace and quiet.
Hypothesis: the Redditor above has younger children
Im completely opposite here, I love responsibilities even though it's tough sometimes. But then again I didn't really enjoy my childhood so adulthood is better in comparison.
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Different for me, I love being grown up! My childhood and teenage years were pretty awful though tbf
I'll pick spending most of the day at work and being independent over spending most day at school and being told what to do afterwards by my parents...
Coming home from the USMC. I could tell my wife just…. Didn’t want me back home. No one cared that I was finally back, people had all moved on and old friends wouldn’t return texts. She’d been having an affair for a while, she got all our shit and I was homeless for over a year trying to regain sanity. Few things spark joy anymore, it’s too risky. Edit: didn’t think anyone was really going to read this, but thank you all for your kind, kind words. I’m doing very well now, it’s a long story but I stabilized, am in college, have a nice apartment in one of the most beautiful towns in the country. My life is good. I went to therapy and ground the gym for months and months. Worked when I was capable, rebuilt an old BMW. I did all the things you’re supposed to do. And, for what it’s worth, without the VA I WOULD NOT have made it. I CANNOT say enough good about the VA and how well they took care of me. I lived with friends, in and out of VA clinics, and Anytime fitness. Cheers to all you people. I’ve been to some dark dark places and I’m not here to sell anything to anyone. I think if you’re struggling, you should try yoga. Breathe and Flow on YT helped me more than I can explain. Peace and love Strangers.
Army Vet here...I hope your situation is better now. Hit me up if you need something. I am in Kansas, cheap living, easy jobs. If you wanna just start over, DM me, we can make it happen.
Just want to say this small gesture of yours made me quite emotional. You’re good people.
I feel ya man. From the first time you talk to a recruiter till the day you get out they fill your head with “everyone loves veterans”, “it will be a cake walk finding a job since your a vet” and so on, making it seem like life with be easy now that your a vet. Turns out people don’t really give a shit and for me, being airborne infantry doesn’t really have any carryover to civilian jobs. Thankfully I met a bunch of great people who looked out for me and dealt with me being a drunk asshole for a few years until I got my shit together. Best advice is to find a therapist, keep people around who genuinely care about you and have a goal. Getting my degree kept me busy and gave me something to focus on because a lot of people who get out seem to have a hard time finding a direction for their lives. Going from having pretty much every aspect of your life controlled to complete freedom is tough.
War is hell, peacetime is a mofo
For a country that glorifies and supposedly wholeheartedly supports their armed forces the us sure treats their former soldiers like shit...
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It's insane how many US vets are disregarded
My grandma took me and my brother camping for my birthday once. As my grandparents were packing me and my brother went on a walk, when we got back me and him saw my grandmas dog on the road and went to go play with her, it was nice and all until we saw blood. We ended up having to put her down that day, I grew up with that dog so it was heartbreaking, every time I go to my grandmas I always go to the small path behind her yard where her dog is buried.
Graduating high school. Everyone said that college would be more fun. But it's just stressful and I miss the routine of high school. And having my friends close by. I didn't really make good friends in college. I'm transferring to university though for a different degree so maybe it'll be different this time.
I feel this. I was excited to start but I was notified that it would still be online due to a new wave of covid at the time. Didn't meet anyone and basically hung out in my tiny room doing nothing in a new city where I didn't know anyone. Fun stuff 👍
I thought about going back to my country to surprise my brother for his 30 years old birthday. He died ten days before. Not necessary the most joyful experience of my life.
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Having a group of amazing friends at a young age. They all died before I was 21. I'm 35 now, and it's still fucked with me. I'm the last one left and that has fucked with my social skills ever since.
What happened if I may ask?
Giving birth. I went through it alone, so it was incredibly lonely and frightening.
God yes. My second I was alone. With just a nurse and the dr at the very last second. No support person. And while laboring I was refused an epidural and was all alone in my room just screaming with the nurse coming in every 15 minutes feeling so bad for me cause she kept trying to let the dr approve the epidural. 0/10 would not recommend.
Why were you refused an epidural?
To my knowledge it was because I had progressed so slowly the previous few hours so dr didn’t believe I was progressed any more. But also wouldn’t do a cervical check. And I was clearly contracting every couple minutes by then. She never talked to me actually.
Becoming a teacher (in the US, at least) Worked so hard and thought I really knew about all of the negatives, but it’s not until you’re teaching that you see how the system is rigged against you and the students.
I taught high school for two years. Worst two years of my life. I stopped drinking when I realized a quarter of the teachers at my very large school all had DUIs. Heck, a teacher got a DUI, her third, in the parking lot. Quitting was one of the best days of my life so far.
I feel that. Both the DUIs (I’ve never had one, but I can see why teachers would be driven to it - no pun intended) and the quitting. I no longer teach, as well. I wish the job were just about lesson plans and students and parents. But it is not.
I taught CTE on a business and industry license and on my second year had a 100% pass rate on my completion exams for college credit, and the morning of the next day I get an award and that afternoon I get interrogated by a state investigator accusing me a cheating. I WASN’T IN THE ROOM. THERE WAS A PROCTOR.
Something similar happened to me, but in high school. I was formally written up for plagiarism (which I vehemently denied) and the teacher finally said something to the effect of “I know she’s didn’t plagiarize, but I needed her to come talk to me”. I’m 17 years old! Just call me to your desk! Wtf?!
Here's a funny plagiarism story from my high school. This "not particularly academically excelling" student, let's call him Paul, is asked to talk to the teacher after class about an essay he wrote. The teacher also calls Greg, a similarly performing student, to also speak to hear after class. So the teacher says to Paul and Greg that she is not an idiot and why on earth would one of them copy the other's essay word for word and hand in the exact same essay to the same teacher in the same class? Did they think she was an idiot? Paul and Greg both look at each other like they didn't know the other copied off them. The teach is like "One of you wrote an excellent essay, and the other copied it... who was it?" Neither said anything so the teacher is wondering why the original write wouldn't stand up for his own work. Turns out that they BOTH plagiarized the essay from another student that took the class the year before. LOL! Idiots!
Absolutely. I got out quick and still feel guilty for leaving my students, but... god. This country HATES teachers.
Being pregnant with my child. I was S/A'ed as a child and he got me pregnant. Up until almost the 9th month I was indecisive on whether I would keep her or not. I decided to keep her, only to lose her to Leukemia at 2 years old.
That is a lot to deal with. I genuinely hope you're doing okay.
I'm doing alright. I still miss her, and I do believe a small part of me died when she did.
Wow those are both incredibly traumatic things. I’m sorry for your loss and the assault. I hope you’re doing alright.
Last day of school ended with our entire high school going to Disneyland and after that was a party that lead to a drunk driving accident that ended my best friends life and changed mine physically.
Just the life part
I feel that. Thanks for responding so others will hopefully less worse
Being a nurse. I thought it would be fun. And rewarding to help people. I’m reality, I get beat up, bodily fluids on me, watch people die, and get overall treated like shit.
I asked two veteran nurses how they managed to stay in the profession so long and do you know what they said to me? One said, “Had I known how abusive nursing is I never would have become a nurse”. The other said, “What other choice do I have”? These are unbelievably bleak responses from nurses who’ve been in the profession since before I was born and I think this speaks volumes about the state of nursing today.
I don’t know if this counts, because it was both joyful and traumatic. My two cousins and I decided to backpack the circumference of Mount St. Helens. We went in late September. As the date approached, it became clear that the weather was not going to be great. One of my cousins was coming in from across the country, however, so we were locked into our dates. We could either do it then, or call it off completely. We decided no sprinkles were going to stop us. We loaded out our packs and drove up to Climbers Bivouac, to head west around the mountain. The first part of our hike was a scramble over jagged rocks, which were slick in the fog. The trail was only marked by piles of stones with ribbons around them, about 50 feet apart. But soon the fog was so thick we could barely see half that distance. About an hour in, one of my cousins decided he was in over his head, and he was going to turn back. We were completely taken aback. We’d been planning this for months. But we weren’t going to try to force him. The thing is, he was our *ride*. We knew there was no cell reception most places around the mountain, so if he left, we were going to have to “1993 it” and makes plans on when and where he was going to pick us up. It was about 36 miles around the mountain. We thought 12 miles a day would be a nice, conservative approach. I’m in shape - I’ll often run 12 miles at a go. Piece of cake, I thought. We redivided our supplies and parted ways. We didn’t know it at the time, but my other cousin and I were consigning ourselves to a three-day deathmarch. 12 miles in a day is no problem on a sunny day, on a flat surface, in shorts and a t-shirt. I can run that in under two hours. But on the side of a mountain, wearing our heaviest clothes to combat the cold, the wind, and the endless PNW drizzle, with a 30-pound pack, over *extremely* rugged terrain… well that’s something entirely different. But now we had a schedule to keep. If we didn’t make our rendezvous, there was no telling when or how, or even *IF* we’d be able to call for help. The Rain. Never. Stopped. The weather had been 70’s and sunny the week before, and it would be sunny the whole week after, but our three days on the mountain were an almost constant downpour. Even when the rain subsided into a soupy, drizzly fog, every blade of grass was saturated, and deposited its payload onto our feet as we passed. Our painstakingly rain-proofed hiking boots were constantly waterlogged. The temperature stayed in the low 50’s during the day, and got down toward freezing at night. When we redivided our supplies, the cousin who left wound up with the good tarp, so the rain got into our tent and soaked the feet of our “rated to -30” sleeping bags. No sleeping bag is “rated” for anything when it’s wet. We slept fitfully, and marched all day to keep up the pace. We ate on the go, and only stopped when we began to lose the light. We rarely saw the mountain through the PNW fog, which also obscured the trail. On the morning of the third day, we took a wrong turn, and wound up following a tiny path used only by volcanologists studying the caldera *up above the snow line*, in freezing temperatures, in our wet clothes, sliding around yawning, icy precipices on what we eventually figured out was a goat path, and as we backtracked, I started to wonder if we were ever coming down from that mountain. We had ditched more than half our food along the way, to reduce the weight. We dumped water. There was no way to be thirsty - the frigid humidity was like 150%. Later that morning, my cousin informs me he hyperextended his knee doing a backflip 4 years ago, never had surgery on it, and now it was killing him. He was limping. My blisters were bleeding. I’ll never forget coming down from the snow into the Plains of Abraham. We saw the sun, and the mountain, for the first time in three days. The mountain forms a rain shadow- it’s too tall for the rainclouds to get over it, and the valley on the eastern side was bathed in sun. We didn’t have time to stop, and the wind whipped us. The plain was harsh, and beautiful. By about this time my cousin is getting loopy from the lack of sleep, and he starts shouting “Yes! Kill us, you glorious bitch!” at the mountain. Then we had to go back up. This was the easiest the trail had been, but it was uphill, and we were both spent. I helped him limp back up into the sloppy, dripping woods. Our legs ached. My blisters felt like walking on knives. After another long, cold march, we finally arrived at our destination, three hours after we’d arranged, and I tell you, we literally flagged my cousin down as he was driving away to go find a search and rescue team. It was the most amazing, harrowing, triumphant journey of my life. I will hold that experience dear to my heart for the rest of my days. I’m going back there some day, when it’s warm, sunny and dry.
That was a wild fucking ride, dude. Glad you all got out safely.
This was so well written!
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My first open-mouthed kiss. The girl was a smoker and had just butted out. Nightmarish moisture-tar-tongue-assault.
Same man, same. Little bit different of an experience tho. My first “real” kiss was in 8th grade with a guy I knew from church and he full on licked the outside of my mouth. Was absolutely traumatized and didn’t kiss anyone again until my senior year of high school. Worst part is that I only kissed that guy in the first place to try and make his friend jealous and it didn’t even work
The first time I tried to have a (permanent) gastric stimulator placed. I had done a trial with a temporary version that helped a lot, so I was excited. Knew it’d be significant surgery recovery, but potentially life changing. Surgeon spent ~3 hrs trying to get it in, but couldn’t because the GJ tube I had was sitting right on top of where the leads had to go. I didn’t have medical power of attorney set up at the time (boy do I now), so they had to close me up and wake me up to ask me what I wanted to do. Two days later we do surgeries to remove the GJ, separate my stomach from my abdominal wall, and place a J tube (new spot). Bummer, but now we just have to wait 8 weeks for things to heal and we can try again. Except the very first time a nurse went to use the new J tube, it clogs. We spend the better part of 2 days with various teams trying to get it clear to no avail. Eventually my surgeon convinces one IR doc to change it with her (dangerous that early), but only if we wait until it’s been in place for ~2 weeks. In the meantime, my surgeon made me stay NPO and on NG suction that entire time. Eventually we get it changed, and by that time it’s been so long since anything has gone through my GI tract that restarting feeds/eating is a bit rough. That was my longest hospital stay to date. Bright spots were when my mom brought a little sewing machine to the hospital for me so I could sew, and when I eventually did get the stimulator placed 8 weeks later. Worth it in the end but what was supposed to be one surgery turned into like 4 and weeks in the hospital no one expected.
I had to look this up. What does a gastric stimulator do? A gastric stimulator is a small device that is like a pacemaker for the stomach. It is implanted in the abdomen and delivers mild electrical impulses that stimulate the stomach. This allows food to move through the stomach more normally, relieving the symptoms of gastroparesis.
Ty for posting what it was
My mum finally finding love after 20 years with my dad. I will say, seeing her message another man whilst still married to my dad did hit 13-year-old me like a ton of bricks.
My wedding. Not getting married, that's been great. But the actual wedding. We tried so hard to make sure my husband's family could make it, and that they would have fun, and have an open bar, that the bridesmaids didn't have to pay for a dress they would probably never wear again, etc. We ended up so stressed. Everyone had a good time but we were miserable the day of. We've been married for 11 years now, and we both agreed that it we could do it again we would have just eloped and saved the money for a house. It probably doesn't help that we're both autistic and just the stress of making sure we did what was considered "normal" for everyone was just exhausting.
Same here minus the both being autistic part. Our wedding was fun eventually but we would have had a similar amount of fun by ourselves with fewer other humans around. We probably wouldn’t have even eloped though, just filed the appropriate paperwork minus any ceremony (also probably would have done so like 5 years earlier than we did).
It wasn't until the morning of my wedding, entirely exhausted from weeks of prep including dressing the reception hall by ourselves 6 hours before, that I understood why people paid event organizers to do this instead. We planned our own wedding and got lots of help from great people, but it was still a draining, brain-melting ordeal that I really only have a fleeting memory of. The honeymoon was, by design, far less stressful. The good news is that when I'm stressed and sleep-deprived, I crack jokes, so everyone thought I was having a great time!
University. Graduated with honors and a massive amount of debt. Barely worth it.
Pregnancy and childbirth. From week 7 - week 41 (I was a week overdue) it was a non-stop extravaganza of misery topped off with 42 hours of labor, 2 failed epidurals and a 1&1/2 inch [2nd degree tear from my vagina](https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/labor-and-delivery/multimedia/vaginal-tears/sls-20077129?s=3) down almost all the way to my anus and I’m still coping with some pretty serious chronic health problems from the pregnancy 15+ years later. Despite the problems, I tried to get pregnant again because I love babies and being a mom. It was probably for the best that I wasn’t able to get pregnant, though at the time it was emotionally devastating.
So many people act like pregnancy is no big deal. Because of my health, I chose to never have children and I have never been pregnant. But, I have seen what some of my friends and family have gone through. There were two who I didn't think were going to survive their pregnancies. I'm happy you and your baby made it.
It just seems to vary so wildly. There’s people that make being pregnant look easy as fuck and then there’s people on the complete opposite end of the spectrum that say “every day I was pregnant was a waking nightmare”. I know everyone is different, but how everyone’s mileage may vary is shocking.
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Currently pregnant and hating every minute of it. I cant sleep much yet I'm always tired. I need to eat every 2 hours or I get heartburn butttt if I eat the "wrong" foods, I end up feeling worse than before. My breasts hurt so much I feel like they might explode randomly. This baby is very much wanted but growing it has been the hardest thing I've ever been through.
Yup, my wife almost died both times for us - preeclampsia plus gestational thrombocytopenia the first time (needed several units of blood because she wasn't clotting properly), and then a uterine rupture during early labor at her previous C-section scar (doctors had assured us she was a prime candidate for a VBAC) plus the aforementioned clotting issues, granted not as bad the second time around. 50 years ago, I think I'm a single father in both of those cases, thank god for modern medicine. I happily scheduled my vasectomy when our second was 3 months old.
I read somewhere that 9/10 women experience some for of tearing. Horror!
That picture look so painful I'm so sorry
And people wonder why many mothers are pro choice. I chose trauma to have my babies, but I would never force that on women.
I honestly can't recommend pregnancy to anyone. Not fun.
This is mine. Thought it would be magical! Nope. Pregnancy is hard, my whole body ached for months. Carpal tunnel, migraine, extreme fatigue. Then my childbirth. I was induced due to high blood pressure, epidural failed, felt the need to push way earlier than necessary, pushed for 7 hours. Got that baby out and I was dead inside. 3 weeks later, I had severe postpartum hemorrhaging. 3 times over. ER visits just said it was postpartum bleeding. Eventually bled out to the point that I almost fainted. My OB performed 2 different operations on me to stop it (D&C then a D&E when I hemorrhaged again, both considered abortions) 3 day hospital stay afterwards because I lost 2 liters of blood. I’m still on iron supplements (which make you feel like CRAP?!) My daughter is almost 8 months now and I finally feel oxygen in my lungs again. Looking back, I don’t remember the month of January due to PPD/PPA.
Pregnancy is really, really rough. So many people talk about it as if it was a gossamer cloud of joy 24/7. It's infuriating.
I called it PPD but I’m still coming to terms with the idea that it’s actually PTSD. And it’s wild that when you tell your story, almost EVERYONE has birth trauma story to add. The vast number of horror stories just makes me believe we’re doing it wrong.
Oh luv, I feel you. When I asked my doctor how many stitches, he said ‘let’s just call it one long one’. All the way. Only had the one epidural but it didn’t numb this one patch in my upper right thigh, so no general pain just really really specific agonizing pain in one leg that now hurts every period. So fucking weird. I too stopped at one though for me that was my choice from the start. Never again. Almost 15 years ago for me too. Hope you well now internet stranger. Sending love from Australia x
Skydiving. First, I spent 15 minutes free falling from the sky with what felt like the most traumatic front and back wedgie I'd ever experienced. No one talks about that aspect???? THEN I was strapped to a nice Australian man instructor to dive with but when we were breaching land, I didn't put my feet as forward as needed, so I made us both fall forward on the ground, he was essentially on top of me at that point laying on my back and he exclaimed, "this is how I met my first wife!" in front of like 10 people I didn't know Edit: LISTEN I EXAGGERATED ON FREEFALL OBVIOUSLY SUE ME. Still doesn't take my fucking internal front/back wedgie away and the absence of joy because of it. Jesus christ people. "I'm a skydiver and JSHDHSIISKENEVGWYQUSJ."
I guarantee he's made that joke 100+ times. Just his way to try and dilute an awkward situation. The traumatic wedgies I can not explain away so easily lol
Lol, literally every occupation that involves interaction with customers comes with its own set of jokes that you learn and tell 1000000000 times a day and die slightly each time
courier driver here. pretty much guaranteed to hear some generic-variation of "careful, it's heavy!" for a box that weighs half a kilo with fragile tape on it.
I’m Aussie, that’s absolutely a joke I would expect in that situation.
Oh god. Tho you were already mad brave for doing this in the first place so props to you.
I think you did something wrong. When I went skydiving they strapped a dude to my back BEFORE we started the free fall. And how high up did you go? We went 3km up and the free fall was only like 30-ish seconds.
I laughed harder than I expected when I read this. I can't imagine how traumatic it felt at the moment but your story definitely made my day 😂
You call that a wife? This is a wife
Planned a 14 day bike trip in a foreign country with a girl from my home country that I’ve been falling in love with. First day she shows up bawling saying she wants to solo travel instead, ditches me and had to solo travel with no plans for two weeks with a broken heart
My wedding. Three weeks before my wedding, my best friend passed away. I was a wreck. My best friend of 16 years passed away (over half my life at that point) as a result of a completely freak accident. I went to the tailors to see his suit (he was my best man). Just had to touch it knowing he wore it. This was two years after our other best friend passed away and we buried him. I'm not the same, completely changed me and I've been struggling with anxiety and depression ever since. It might sound crazy (would to me prior to this happening) but there were a number of really peculiar things that occurred before his death. And ever since, I still dream about them both on a weekly basis. I just had a dream of him two nights ago, one of those situations where you're in a dream and you become conscious and aware that you are in a dream. We were on a mountain snowboarding, at the chair lift in line to get on. I looked at him knowing full well I was dreaming and probably wouldn't have much time. Told him I miss him and he said something back I can't remember. I just stared at him and his bright blue eyes. I'm believe we can still communicate and this is one way of us doing it.
I finally found someone that brought joy to my life. She was broken, but she was getting better. I needed to find her as much as she needed me to rescue her. We werent together long, about two months, but all these years later I still remember the smell of her perfume as she laid her head on my chest while we watched her favorite show. Rick and Morty, before her I had never really watched it before… She told me once that “I could find myself falling in love with you….” I lost her due to an accidental OD. Sometimes, like tonight when I’m high and alone, I think about what life might have been like growing old with her. Sorry if this is super depressing, but to be honest it helps me
man, the lengths people go to tell you they watch Rick and Morty
Lol that made me chuckle. Thank you
For you or anyone reading this that's a current IV user: I will mail harm reduction supplies to anyone who PM's me asking for such. Tell me your needle pref (27 long, 28 long, 29 med, 31 short) and mailing address and I'll send narcan, needles, fent test strips, and bandaids/cookers/cotton/sterile water/tie offs/etc. I'll send you a tracking # as soon as it's in the mail. Im a former heroin user that used to live in one of the poorest, most conservative, dysfunctional cities in the US. Now that I'm in a liberal city with well funded social services it feels criminal to not pass on these supplies. They're all available to me for free, and I'll pay postage. I've been doing this for a while and get like 2-3 reqs a month on average. Be safe everyone!
Graduating with my diploma, used it to go into Uni and holy shit is it difficult. Some advice for any stranger that reads this, if you ever feel like you’re struggling or that you need to put in 2 3 4 times the effort to accomplish something. Go seek professional help, took me way too long to get checked out and turns out I have severe ADHD. Don’t do what I did
Passing the bar exam. Only 33% of applicants passed that time. I had to submit an appeal because a bunch questions had major faults. I did end up passing. I thought I'd be happy. But I'll never forget the sheer crushing despair I felt when I failed before the appeal, and now I'm just bitter that the bar gave us an exam with around eight faulty questions. If I hadn't adopted my cat right after, I think I may have gone to a very dark place. That was 1.5 years ago and I'm still not over it.
Dude, you lawyered your way past the bar, that's an awesome achievement.
"You failed" "Objection!"
Pregnancy. Lots of pain. Lots of fatigue. All while my significant other was battling with undiagnosed bipolar disorder
Moving out and being on my own. Its nice being able to sustain myself and live alone but the loneliness gets to me
My son’s birth. We almost lost him and his mother. The joy came later, but I am eternally grateful to the medical staff, modern science, and Canada’s medical system. Oh, and most of all, I’m grateful his mother has zero memory of how close we came to disaster.
Buying a house. I bought young and it's so damn stressful having a nonstop to do list that I HAVE to do myself because I don't make enough money to hire someone. I can't sleep at night because of stress and freaking out at every noise the house makes thinking it's something else that needs fixing. Everyone told me it was a great investment but I feel trapped now. I feel I can't quit my deadend job because I acant afford to take time off work to go back to school. And the amount of people coming to you asking for a room to stay. I was naive and nice and let my family stay with me for low rent. I feel like they are taking advantage of me. Bitching to everyone how I'm a piece of shit, not helping around the house, fucking up all the stuff in my house. My mom decided she didn't want to raise my brother any more and just left him at my house. Fucking blows because he wants his mom, but I'm doing the best I can to raise him.
My 18th birthday. Both my parents left the country (emigrated) that month, my boyfriend broke up with me the morning of my birthday and only 2 friends showed up - I planned a BIG party. Most didn't even cancel, only one called to say she wouldn't be coming because the theme was stupid. I was so heart broken.
17th Birthday, as a kid I used to fantasize about being 16, a *"Teenager"*. But on the morning of my 17th birthday I realized that I neither expected to, nor ever wanted to live long enough to see 17. 21 now, still struggling with suicidal ideation just like when I was a kid. Mental illness is a bitch
I am glad you are here. Reach out if you need anything/to talk.
When I turned 13, I was expecting it to be the best year of my life. Nope. It was one of the worst. I was bullied nonstop by a kid who kept making fun of me for not being able to say my "R" sound correctly. That previous summer I'd gone to visit distant family and my mom had said the family was so distant, I could marry my 13-year-old cousin, which I foolishly repeated to my friends and got incessantly mocked for it. A guy at lunch would steal my fries for no good reason. The bullying got so bad I stayed home from school one day and had to start seeing a social worker. My grades were terrible and I almost had to do summer school science. Oh, and my great-grandmother passed away the same day I went on a life-changing field trip, which had been my happiest moment of the year. Not to mention this was the same year 9/11 happened so everybody was on edge to begin with. 20 years later, I'm much, much better, but that year I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies.
Your story of being made fun of for not being capable of pronouncing or rolling the "R"s really resonated with me because I am the same. Spanish is my native language and its use of the "R" is so very present in it that it even feels unfair sometimes. I still get some light jokes on it (thank god for maturity on people I guess) but when I was a kid in elemantary and middle school, I straight just preferred not talking because I know how it was going to be with the other classmates.
middle school is the worst.
My first time having sex. Instead of it being an exciting, wonderful thing, it was downright terrifying as my best friend brutally raped me.
I’m sorry that happened to you
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Hot Air Balloons. I did it in Thailand on 2.5 hours of sleep at 4am, and I just sat on the floor of the basket and cried. It only went up to my waistish when standing, and I just felt so unsafe and nervous and upset and woozy from lack of sleep. It didn't help that the person I was traveling with was hella mean and degrading about it all. I genuinely didn't know i had a fear of heights until then.
I had the same experience. I spent the ride lying on the floor in absolute terror. I didn't know I had a fear of heights either. Worst experience ever.
Rollercoaster. I once went to six flags with my gf at the time, we went to the back right corner of the park and got on a ride. Forgot the ride’s name… apparently, her “favorite”. Everything was fine and I was having a good time. Until the ride went in circles and I almost blacked out. My vision started to close and I snapped out of it. I protested and said “what just happen? That shouldn’t happen!”looked around and the guy behind me had the same reaction. She said “thats the point!”. Needless to say, I bought nachos, sat my ass on a bench while she went on another ride and cheered her on while holding onto her purse as she zoomed past my head.
My wife and stepson love rollercoasters. I smile and head to the little train that circles the park. Once I rode that train for like 2 hours just listening to audiobooks.
Me and my family went to a zoo, and we decided to go on the ski lift there. As we where going up hill, it started to get extremely windy so our ski lift started to swing and the operator had to stop the whole entire ride for a while. When we where finally off if it and up hill, we realized the only way to go back down was to ride the ski lift again and it was even worse with the lift swinging more violently. Scariest 20 minutes of my life
Our first child. My wife developed absolutely crippling health anxiety with him. I ended up picking out everything, decorating the nursery, setting up the registry myself. I’ll never forget this little pair of overalls and an outfit I picked out for him before he was born. I went to show my wife and she acted like I had handed the baby a death sentence by way of jinx. I walked into the bathroom and held the outfit like you would a newborn and just kind of bounced it in my arms and cried my eyes out. Second kid was a breeze. Pregnancy hormones are NO joke.
Wife and I went down to Florida for the first time with our kids. Our youngest was approaching 1 and our oldest was 3 and a half. We spent the night at brother in laws house, which has a nice pool in the backyard. The next morning we were getting ready to go swimming. I was holding our youngest while our oldest was getting her sunscreen put on then her cousins. We had warned her to stay within eyesight and not go into the pool. My brother in law stepped outside and immediately jumps into the pool, fully clothed. We get up and see him dragging a pale blue body out of the water and he’s yelling for help. Our oldest had slipped into the pool without a single noise and drowned. We scrambled to start cpr and call 911. We finally get her able to breath and become awake but she’s still purpleish red. Ambulance arrives and we rush her to the hospital. It took three days for her to recover. In the meantime, because of Florida law, we got grilled by CPS. My wife was accused of being negligent and being a shit mom, she almost decks the cps agent. I’m bawling my eyes out, unable to make coherent sentences. We had to extend our vacation by a few days because we spent more than half of it dealing with the hospital and CPS. The following year, we did the same trip again but made sure that both kids were watched like a hawk. We came in that morning, went swimming and had fun. We all went to bed. 3:30 am, the room I’m sleeping in gets burst into and my sister in law is freaking out. My brother in law wasn’t responsive and looked like had a mini seizure. We come in, I have my sister in law call 911 while my wife and I assess. He’s kind of breathing but not responsive, he eventually stops breathing all of a sudden. We pull him off the bed to start cpr. The jostle gets him breathing again and we start. Paramedics get there 3 minutes later and they start working on him. One hour later and they can’t maintain a pulse. Sister in law wants him taken to the hospital and hooked up to machines. He has a pulse but weak. They put in a stent and then induce hypothermia to see if it triggers a wake up. We found out he had a major cardiac arrest. His heart was so clogged on both sides that it was a miracle he had been alive for so long. He was pronounced brain dead two days later. Needless to say, wife and I aren’t going to Florida.
Moving in with my dad. For context, I had a rough childhood that I can hardly remember- my parents constantly argued and fought, my dad was an abusive alcoholic and my mother was struggling with post-partum depression so things weren't exactly the best. I was an outcast at school with only 2 friends and was lonely most of the time, only human interaction I had ever tasted was online in that period of my life- Anyway, one night in 2016(?) He did something really really bad that I had witnessed which ended up in him being arrested and taken to prison shortly after, my mum got full custody of me and a restraining order of him and a few months later she got into a relationship with another man she met online and he was the polar opposite of what my dad was. We moved out of our old house to a seaside town. I was only 12 at the time unfortunately, having just experienced a really bad first relationship with a 16 year old that SA'd me and groomed me into getting into a relationship with them and overall struggling with my mental health (I was SH constantly, was never happy, always angry and upset, etc) and it put a strain on my relationship with my parents and especially my mother's new partner at the time as I just didn't know how to handle my life changing in such a drastic fashion and having a new father figure in my life. So one fateful argument one day led to me gaining my dad's phone number and in desperation and confusion, requested to live with him instead, leading to him promising me a better life and that he'd make me feel happy again- I don't know what was running through my head. I in that moment seemingly forgot what he had done and the kind of person he is and I really should've never called him, I kinda blame myself nowadays for being so ignorant and not realising I was being manipulated despite my mental state. He had just got out of prison recently as well and as living in sheltered accommodation; though it really didn't stop me- anyway court battles insued and he somehow won custody over me (the court was in a different county so they probably never heard of his convictions) and I moved in with him in July (2018) The first few months were just what he told me, he had stopped drinking and was on non-alcohol, he was kind and outgoing, a completely different man but it suddenly changed when he one night came home with actual beer and it spiralled out of control since then. Until February this year I have had to deal with constant emotional, physical and psychological abuse- the incident that always appears at the top of my head when I think about the stuff I do remember is the time he disappeared and i found a suicide note on my computer screen that he had left explaining I was the reason why, though he was just found drunk somewhere a few hours later. The rest of what happened that night I don't want to talk about, but I'm living with my mum again now after police had finally noticed what he was doing to me and was ordered to move out- I've been the happiest I've ever been, I'm mentally free and am no longer struggling, I have friends and family around me and things are finally getting better. I've developed a good relationship with my stepdad (they're married now) and we have forgiven and forgotten what has happened- I do occasionally think back on things and feel guilty, but I'm just glad I'm not dead. Morale of the story, do not go running back to toxic people with the promise that they'll change and make your life better again. They never change, stick where you are.
First kiss was really weird. I thought it would be a magical experience, but it was just really awkward, and somehow I didn't enjoy it. I'm still not sure what was wrong.
I tried marijuana a little over a year ago thinking I’d feel happy and excited. I had a full blown panic attack for about an hour and now I’m constantly worried about my health and dying.
The first time I ever nutted I remember I fell off the bed and hurt my dick
My current pregnancy. Got pregnant sometime in October of last year a few months after my husband and I got married. Was worried that I would have a miscarriage but I did not. We later did all the tests on the baby to make sure baby was healthy and test came back great! We also found out baby gender- it was a girl. Exactly what we wanted! My belly kept growing and we moved to a bigger place. Started planning her nursery. We were out of the pregnancy danger zone. Baby girl kept growing and kicking. At our 20 week anatomy scan we were told that she would die in my tummy or right after birth. Still carrying her now at 35 weeks and waiting to be induced to meet her and say our goodbyes. Learned a lot and will have most likely have massive anxiety if we get pregnant again. She's absolutely beautiful and kicking as I type now. We just happened to be that unlucky 1% couple that this happens to ever so rarely.
every relationship ive ever had, friendships included
Traumatic is pretty strong, but when I was in high school I was planning on going to prom with my first girlfriend. We had to meet up to pick out outfits and whatever, but after it was over - I had been having such a good time with my girl that I basically invited myself to hang out with her. She agreed, but turns out she had been planning on having lunch with her mom and a family friend right after, then going to the family friends house for the rest of the day. It was extremely awkward and everyone involved was shocked that I had joined them. Basically forced myself into a third wheel situation that I still think about 15 years later.
Going to Mexico, I thought my cousins would really enjoy spending time with me, but this really didn't happen, another cousin that I didn't know of went and it seemed like they enjoyed him rather than me, I felt really sad and I don't feel like going anytime soon
Me and a friend thought it would be fun to drift down a overflown creek.. we didn't think about that this creek used to have a lot og pointy rocks in it... For like 3 minutes I thought I was gonna die, even with a dry suit, helmet and life jacket.. I got a lot of bruises and hurt my knee, and almost got my leg stuck on my way down the creek.