Sunstream

I really should feel sorrier than I do for laughing out loud at this

I replied with this to another user already by I think this applies here, too: I think what they meant was that they participate in only 10% of conversations because when they do they talk too much. Nothing about OP’s post tells me they’re not aware of the problem or in denial.

I think what they meant was that they participate in only 10% of conversations because when they do they talk too much. Nothing about OP’s post tells me they’re not aware of the problem or in denial of it. Their question was how to stop doing it.

I think you’re taking it for granted that if someone knew about the problem and tried hard enough, they’d be able to stop, so you’ve answered assuming that they mustn’t be taking it seriously else they would’ve quit doing it already- only there’s a lot of reasons why it might be extremely difficult.

ADHD is one of many reasons, and it’s not a matter of willpower. This is why it requires medical and psychological intervention to treat effectively, and it is by far not the only cause of overbearing social behaviours.

Always a relevant Simpsons quote

Kid: What if people say you’re not good enough to be in the Constitution?

Amendment: Then I’ll crush all opposition to me, And I’ll make Ted Kennedy pay. If he fights back, I’ll say that he’s gaaaay

Parasitophobia and dermatophobia (fear of parasites and skin disease, respectively). This bleeds into a fear of fungal infection and worms in general. I guess my kryptonite would be a parasitic skin infection 🙃

I don’t know what it is about them that repulses me/freaks me out over anything else- I quite like spiders, snakes, heights, the dark, etc- it’s just instant nausea when anyone starts talking about them. If there’s a hint I’m in danger of encountering either irl, I’m out.

Worst fear is having something crawl into my ear (I guess I can thank Animorphs for introducing yerks to me as a kid). I’ve seen some videos of that sort of thing happening to people, and I can’t even fathom how calm people seem to be in comparison to how I would be if it were me. I’d have to have to put on a watch so I didn’t start ripping into my head in animal panic.

I also have a particular dislike for really large fish and really large lizards. Anything larger than a foot and a half begins to make me uncomfortable. Dinosaurs are right out.

As my sister would say (who has a fear of lizards, herself) “If I were trapped in a room with a komodo dragon and a gun with two bullets in it, I would shoot myself twice.”

This wasn’t maliciousness to my mind so much as it was pure selfishness, but our school guidance counsellor fucked up in a vulnerable moment (particularly for me, but pretty much everyone who had to witness it as well), then doubled down on it and somehow made it worse.

One morning I came to school and my class was really somber. I found out that a girl’s mother had died yesterday- that girl was part of my friend’s group and I’d just met her mother a few weeks earlier at friend’s birthday party; she was lovely. A drunk driver had hit her on a roundabout at 12 midday, of all times, and she’d passed before they’d even gotten her to the hospital.

This was traumatic for my friend on every level, I’m sure, but it was my first experience with second hand grief, so you can imagine it was a bad time to go ahead with the scheduled guest that morning who was there to do a very graphic presentation about drunk driving involving sound effects and acting out a car collision.

I feel sorry for the guy, in hindsight, because he probably hadn’t heard a chorus of horrified screams and spontaneous sobbing in response to one of his shows quite like that, before, but that was on the school admin, anyway. What the fuck were they even thinking? “Yes, yes, we’re all sad about Jessie’s mum … So anyway, this is how she died, in real time!”

So, moments before this bloody show started up, another close friend of mine turned up late and was confused at our dismayed faces. No one had taken her aside to tell her (the bastards. Why would you not take the girl’s close friend group aside to tell them first? Jessie’s mum was like a second mum to some of us), so I found it was on me to convey it. That really sucked. A lot. I was clumsy, friend was distraught, you get the picture.

This bitch counsellor, though… When the completely inappropriate presentation got to the graphic bit, my friend took off crying down the hall 'cause fuck all that, and I made to as well. The counsellor stopped me (like she thought I was trying to go after her), and fucking made me sit down and watch the rest of that show, clinging to my other friends trying to sob as quietly as possible and not imagine poor Jessie’s mum at the moment her death. We were like, what, 15, 16 years old?

I don’t know how the hell my feelings about this bullshit got back to the counsellor, but I think my mum must’ve called the school after I came home in floods, because again, this fucking bitch called me aside right as the bell rang to go home to (figuratively speaking) pin me down and explain to me why she was totally right to do what she did and she hoped I understood that she did the right thing, blah blah blah.

I just nodded along desperately, getting more and more anxious because my one bus out of there had a very narrow window to get on, and eventually had to interrupt her to beg her to let me go home. I got to enjoy the sight of it driving off without me and had to call my mum to pick me up over an hour later (side of the road on a hot Aussie afternoon- no there was no bus shelter, no the school wasn’t open to let me hang around 'til my Mum got in).

Goddamn, I still think about that sometimes. It’s not even close to the worst I’ve heard of teachers, but it’s just so petty and unkind it somehow pisses me off more than overt cruelty. Like fuck off, you can’t gaslight me into believing you had my best interests at heart with bullying tactics.

Oh yeah that’s right, that same counsellor told me I had depression, too, when a) at that point in highschool I absolutely did not and it came out of left field completely, and b) when I did start to suffer from anxiety and depression she was as useful as a cat flap in an elephant house. Shocker.

Fuck you Mrs Whatever-your-face-was. I only remember you by the dumb nickname everyone gave you and that’s fair enough because you’re also dumb.

I learned in a video that cats can read our facial expressions just fine, we’re just crap at reading theirs because their facial muscles don’t allow for the same movement as humans (and dogs to some extent). They’ll become more anxious if we show a fear expression around them in a new environment, or become more relaxed and cuddly if we smile at them in a new place. They look to us for reassurance as much as dogs do.

Once I learned that they do a lot of their communicating with their tail, I started paying attention to my two cat’s tail movements and now I can’t unsee it. It’s as obvious as a waving hand, and they’ll talk to one another this way as well as with us.

For example, they lift their tail as a greeting. If I say their name as they enter a room, I might think they’d completely blanked me if I didn’t see their tail lift ‘hello’ every single time. Once my older cat, Bartine, didn’t bother to tail lift, and I said “Oi! Barty! Rude?!”. She then gave me a quick, half-hearted lift, like she couldn’t be bothered with more than half wave, lol

Their tails quiver with excitement if there’s a very interesting treat up for grabs, or my favourite is a coquettish swirl which is 100% “I love you” because it’s always followed up with an approach to snuggle or headbutt. They also understand me when I say I love you, but particularly now because I see the swirl tail and say “I love you, too!” followed by indulgent pets.

Eh, the tardigrades will probably survive. That’d be enough for me.

'Tis a silly one, but it’s hilarious when it stumps people. Best used verbally:

There are thirty cows in a field, and twenty-eight chickens. How many didn’t?

This reminds me of a medical test I took at a hospital to diagnose dysautonomia. One of the features of the condition is reduced or absent sweating, so they got me to run on a treadmill-

No, just kidding. They put me in a room with heaters lining the ceiling. I was slathered in castor oil and iodine solution from neck to toes, then instructed to lie on a flat table and not move at all while they heated the room to somewhere between 45°-50°C (113°-122°F) for 50-odd minutes. The heaters were the only source of light after the test began so the room was bathed in a dim red light.

I’ve had some really awful illnesses and invasive medical tests before, but I look back on that experience and can only describe it as harrowing.

I don’t know if it was just me and my connective tissue disorder, but for some reason the increasing pain of lying immobile for nearly an hour was significant by itself.

As I began to sweat successfully (yay?) I got to enjoy the creeping sensation of hundreds of water droplets tickling down my skin in 50% humidity and torturous heat, unable to flinch them away.

I spent the last 10 minutes tensed from head to foot with my eyes clenched shut and my teeth gritted, mentally rocking back and forth like a baby repeating ‘Make it stop, please make it stop, I can’t do this anymore, please, please, please…’

0/10, sounds like a joke when I tell someone in real life, only no one laughs. The hospital never sent the test results to my doctor in the end, so I can only assume that I don’t have dysautonomia 🙃

In fairness, I’d rather deal with an apocalypse whilst not living with pemphigus, so if I remain incredibly fortunate, I’d love to give it a go if it passes phase IVs

“Yeah, nah”

“Nah, yeah”

I think we were the ones who bullied them into it, to be quite honest. I’m not sure I’m even physically capable of pronouncing the entirety of the name ‘McDonald’s’.