First, really solid movie. I don’t care if Efron did do steroids to prepare, he was yoked to all hell and I respect it.
That being said, it’s hard not to snicker a bit when they try and make true to life comparisons to the Von Erichs. Zac’s character, who is like 6’2 220 is played by a guy 5’8, and even yoked, MAYBE 190. Then when Lip is added into the mix, it gets a bit more ridiculous. He’s 5’6 140, but the three of them are supposed to be a combined 690 lbs. They’d be lucky to break 500lbs all together.
It’s picking nits, I get that. Like I said, solid movie, it’s just funny when that stuff comes up, it’s jarring.

I tried this shit about 2 years ago. Started popping adderall at 16, tried Xanax and opiates probably around 17, and starting mixing Addie’s/meth pills and fake percs. The cycle started as I loved the energy I got from adderall and I felt like it wouldn’t mess me up bad(as we all probably kinda tell ourselves before we would admit addicted). Then the anxiety kicked in after popping them 4-5 days a week on average( some more, some less depended on $$), so I tried Xanax to sleep cause I got tired of being so awake. Then I realized Xanax is a bad expensive addiction that makes you forget, and I got a hold of fenty 30s. I knew they were fake and I didn’t overdose on em but instantly loved them. It was all I looked forward to. I’m a smart guy(or at least was), and I have many skills I was pursuing. I’d have 50k in my bank right now if not more if it wasn’t for addiction. Once I tried hard after being addicted to powder and doing it all the time my plug said he only had hard. I’d never ever think or want to do that shit, I used to despise the shit just cause it’s crack so I wouldn’t touch it sober. I was doing 1-3.5gs a day powder everyday for 6 months and it’s all he had so I said fuck it, got a ball off the bat. I had bad technique, didn’t really get the full potential but still was INSTANTLY addicted, even more then the powder cocaine I was doing everyday. I’d smoke all my shit, then be like yea I’m done with this. Next day it calls me back and I do it. I went to rehab and was clean for over 6 months. Its crazy how fast life goes when you smoke hard cause I I don’t remember why and when I did it again, but it’s been a couple months already in a blink and I’ve already spent 3k if not more. I don’t do it everyday, but when I do I fiend and do a LOT dropping 300-500 on a Friday. I always can’t handle getting sober,but I always crave and go right back. love y’all‼️ we need to get well soon. Seen someone say it on here and it makes so much sense if you know the depth on this, but the coolest part about crack is quitting crack. Stay smooth my people

Blood tests appear fine, but I can't get my guardians to set me up with a primary care provider. Symptoms include constant chills to the point of not being able to walk, constant stomach pain, dropping and breaking things almost 24/7, and tripping to the point where I can barely get up out of bed and walk without being in pain from muscle weakness anymore. I take sleeping meds along with anxiety pills, but I don't know if they're enough anymore. . . . . . . . . . . . .
I've had labels thrown at me ranging from bipolar like my mother from a licensed psychologist to a schizophrenic who thinks they have ghosts in their bones by EMTs. They constantly ask how much caffeine I drink even though I only drink one cup a day (ranges in size). I would switch over to decaf in a heartbeat, but it's no longer sold on store shelves where I live and I'm stuck with what's available. I've tried to cut back on soda/kool-aid/etc. and mostly drink cold water from their dispenser to save money. I usually go for a sprite when I'm out at a restaurant. All my blood tests come back fine aside from Vitamin D and my stool looks completely normal. I do have the rounded gels for vitamin D, but I forget to take them.
I left my phone at therapy on accident so using this time to see if I can make sense of the outside world, but all it really does so far is prove the point of why I'm addicted to my phone in the first place. While everyone else aimlessly scrolls through TikTok, browsing actual social media like Twitter and Reddit is the only way to connect with the outside world in a small rural town with next to nothing but a trashed up Dollar General. I feel hopeless when it comes to everyday civil rights issues taking place around the world while I'm stuck with old boomers who pray for our demise.
It's not safe to get an apartment where I live because of all the drugged up deadbeats banging on people's windows and helping themselves to everyone else's spaces while the cops do nothing. I've also had all kinds of people come up to me and fantasize about wanting to kill my pets in front of me, so that's another thing I have to worry about as well. There's even been issues with people pulling out knives on each other, so even though I've bought pepper spray for myself I dont think it's enough to protect my entire living space from being pillaged. It might injure my pet if the perpetrator decides to aim for my pet first and I can't spray them in time.
Steel padlocks don't mean jack fucking shit when people can pick up a screwdriver from somewhere and unscrew the hinges off the door while I'm gone just like my sister's kids did to me growing up. Security cameras don't mean much either if all the meth heads are just gonna come back and rip through all the replacements without any consequences from the police whatsoever. Not only is it unsanitary and unsafe, but I wouldn't be able to find clothes that fit me without traveling out of state either. I would like to start walking again, but I'm scared of falling in the middle of a busy highway or tumbling into a ditch somewhere. Even then it wouldn't matter how much weight I lose due to cup size being controlled by horomones. The only reason I'm so concerned about my heart is because my mother's side of the family has heart issues really bad.
I do go to group therapy (CBT), but they've practically given up on the "mental health" aspect because it triggers all the other clients into not wanting to come anymore, with some being in even worse conditions than I am (CSA, domestic violence, etc). Whenever we try to provide reasonable explainations on how coping mechanisms can trigger volatile reactions out of other family members, we're constantly being invalidated and told that we're just choosing to be miserable. Everyone is always a stuck up about how family is so important and how we need to "love" them from a distance. However, I can't just go anywhere else for therapy because the only other psychologists they have for miles (ones at the facility) will literally raise their voice and scream at residents in front of everyone else if they don't get their way. I can't go to the other group therapy that the residents because some of them reek so bad to the point of giving me flashbacks of my parents' roach infested hoards.
Everyone gets onto my ass about leaving things on the table when I go use the restroom, but the truth is that I'm already tired of having my all shit stolen since I was 10 while everyone in my life sat around and told me to quit crying and bitching about everything. I do try to watch other residents and keep my personal items within arms reach, but I can't keep up when I can barely exit my bed and walk down the fucking halls just to eat. That's all on top of my parents consisting of three different hoarders and losing track of everything I bring over there (not to mention all the roaches, mice, and animal waste all over the floor).
I've gotten a lot more freedom since moving away from the cult, but everything I did to cope has practically gone out the fucking window due to thieves and lack of internet (they won't fix the damn router bc they dont know anything about tech). I used to have a Bluey box full of different characters from the show (ordered online ofc), but everything's so filthy that I can't really bring anything out besides toys or stuffed animals. I have an entire tote of books I've never even touched because the place is way too nasty to have them out and risk them getting ruined.
Whenever my belongings do go missing, I'm told to just suck it up and forget about it. I'm scared to fucking death end up with holes in them from being burnt or get mixed up with other women's clothes and get caught being worn them when they supposedly "know better" according to staff. I had a female resident at the religious group home scream and cry to the point that my entire fucking body weight against the damn door wasn't enough to stop her from barging into my bedroom and harass me for shit (that's after all the BS with my sister's kids for over a decade), so I'm not even gonna try to talk to anyone directly anymore.
If I told anyone in my family about my concerns, they would just get pissed and ramble on about how it's my choice to be there, how I need to stop bitching about everything not going my way, and that I should've just stayed at the religious group home. Therapists keep acting like it's all my fault in regards to my emotions, that I just need to work on myself and tell me there's nothing else they can do. Nothing fucking matters when everything on my broken ass tablet requires internet and my consoles are broken. Hell, I'd be having a blast with my 2DS XL if the thing didn't fall apart within the first month. All I really wanted it for was to emulate old PC games and hook it up to the TV. I figured that if I had all my games on one device with the bare minimum accessories needed to make it function, I wouldn't have to feel like a damn hoarder anymore.
I love the tiny library of games I have on my Wii, but my remote is absolutely dirty as fuck with roach poop and other crud. There's no way to clean it without literally soaking it in something. The console itself has all kinds of encrusted gunk on the side from where my hoarder father attached velcro to the side of it. Constant chills makes it practically impossible to sit up and play the games as well (I'm lucky just to be able to stand up anymore). My library is small enough that I'm willing to fuck around with gyroscopic controls for fun. It's not even the biggest priority to me anyway because there would be so many other games to play in the mean time.
I figured with the Steamdeck I could could prop it up against the bed or set it on a table use a controller with it if I reach a point to where I can't see the TV screen from my bed. I can't apply for a job at Walmart to pay for the thing myself because of my balance issues causing me to fall and the inability to grip anything (which would result in massive damages to inventory). I'm also worried about them taking all my earnings since my SSI check isn't enough to cover rent and I need state supplement. I thought about selling my art on Redbubble and save up that way, but my 2022 Samsung tablet that I got a few months ago glitches out when I try to draw stuff and crashes whenever I try to play certain games.
I can honestly forget about recieving one for Christmas/birthdays because for whatever reason, everyone has to have their way when it comes to gift giving and god fucking forbid you try to establish the most basic of boundaries or else you're nothing a spoiled bitch. It's one thing for the Steamdeck to be out of budget, and it's another to deliberately go against a person's wishes when it comes to simple shit like candy or soda when they obviously fucking know better. It doesn't help that everyone goes apeshit over the concept of making a "wishlist" like their life depends on it, only to hand me a sack full of random shit from the Dollar Tree and call it a day. It's also impossible to give it all away when nobody else wants it (I don't have transportation to Goodwill) and throwing away new items is a trigger for me.
I know the Steamdeck wouldn't really fix anything outside of the clutter issue and I probably shouldnt be getting one with my current impairments, but it would provide me with something to do outside of being on social media 24/7. Given the total squalor I grew up in as a child, I'd be genuinely happy with a lot of things outside of the Steamdeck if it weren't for my living situation literally preventing me from doing so:
_ toys
_ art
_ exercise bike
_ walking outside

• playing games on the 2DS again

All of these "coping" mechanisms would come back to me if I were able to move to a different area in my own setting where I don't have to constantly worry about pest infestations from the neighbors, getting evicted for no reason, and random strangers trying to kill me or my pets. I've looked everywhere for supported independence programs and absolutely all of them require a medical waiver with a waiting list of up to 10 years. I absolutely need these services for my own safety as a neglected autistic person to ensure that people aren't just gonna come out of the woodworks and try to assault me on my own property. If I move to a more stable area, I could finally get a decent job without having to worry about coworkers coming up to me and taking shit out of my hands for not knowing any better. I could finally have stuff to do outside of technology and be comfortable with my own surroundings.
Even if all of this is just anxiety, I'm still fucked over when in it comes to actual health issues like gingivitis (as confirmed by Aspen Dental) and getting my wisdom teeth removed due to the lack of a primary care physician. I've done everything I can to and they just won't do anything to get me in to see a doctor. I try to brush my teeth when I can but hurts too much to do so. I also feel overwhelmed with trying to organize everything as I keep getting way more brushes than I possibly need and people will not take no for an answer. I don't even know how to prepare for death anymore as I don't even have loved ones. The only people I've ever been given true contact with are my hoarder parents and mentally unstable sister and that's it; no friends or anything.
There's nothing I can really do to repeal the guardianship without taking everyone to court, which is impossible with my sister's busy schedule and unwillingness to work with anybody else. I only because it gives me something to do finally outside of being locked up all week until I go to a half-assed therapy session for three hours. However, they usually go straight home and aren't really willing to go anywhere that costs money aside from restaurants since we have next to no food at the house (even then it becomes unsafe to eat due to all the roaches and mice).
The bane of her existence is to scream about how much of a lazy ass I am despite turning my parents basement into a hoarded up shithole that's flooded out with animal waste to the point of attracting mice. I know her issues aren't my problem, but back in the day she'd come up behind me and pinch my sides to aggrivate me. She also threw pants/shoes/etc. at me while I was on the bed and even shoved me out of the way after accusing me of hiding something I wasn't supposed to have in the kitchen drawer (I was a legal adult at the time). I usually lay flat in bed to avoid confrontation, but ignoring her makes her volatile so I'm screwed either way. I'm pretty sure she's beating and starving her dogs as well, but nobody really gives a fuck. I've got too many of my own issues to even try worrying about them. She's known to be a neurotin junkie for years since moving in with my parents and was even caught smuggling Adderall at work while the cops didn't give a fuck and turned her loose the next day.
I would've called the cops only if there was another child still in the house, but can't do so otherwise because of the risk of charges being brought against me for slander and libel (APS labeled the case as unsubstantiated). I can't just go around risking all my freedom and housing over sick animals that would more than likely be euthanized anyway. Not that animal control would do anything to begin with, of course. I know it feels redundant to even go over there every weekend in those conditions, but I'm tired of being cooped up all day. I'm tired of not having access to a PC with internet and not being able to breathe due to all the secondhand smoke.
I have finally have regular access to food and meds at the facility, but I'm bored with nothing that makes me feel comfortable anymore. I used to walk around town because of my issues with knocking stuff off tables, bumping into everything, and tripping all the time. I used to play games on my tablet to get through the day, but the internet no longer works since switching it over to a new name and the staffare too lazy to just reset the router (everything is infested with ads). We do have bingo during the week, but most people only play for cigarettes and that's it. I can't hold any kind of conversation with anyone else because they'll just ramble on and on about random shit that happened thirty years ago. I used to play Fortnite and Warframe on my Switch Lite, but it broke after I dropped it and we don't have repair shops where I live. It would only hold charge from 45 minutes to an hour with half the games being broken anyway, so I don't even know if it's even worth saving at this point.
I can barely make use of group therapy (CBT) because of how cold I am and how much my stomach hurts. I try to sit outside when I'm not cold as there's nothing to really do around town anyway, but it's nothing more than cigarette butts and spit everywhere (along with rotten food that attracts flies). There's nothing the staff can really do to make the residents pick up after themselves and they can't ban smoking (even if other residents have health issues) because it's the only reason why anyone gets out of bed. The people where I live don't really believe in PTSD outside of veterans, let alone C-PTSD. The mere concept of it would go against everyone's idea that "family is everything, even if they do things we don't like". We barely have mental health services as it is so I'm basically screwed into staying where I'm at even though I live in fear of being punished. I'll see what I can do to get the medicine lady to up the hydroxozine a bit, but I don't know what else there is to even do beyond that point aside from huddling in bed and freezing 24/7 for the next decade until I'm approved for the waiver.

Following on from a recent post about Xylazine, which I've never heard of in the UK. It's not even in our National Formulary (BNF).
I often see posts here about drugs we just don't have/use in the UK much so thought it might be fun to have some internationational drug sharing.
For instance, I've never used droperidol but you guys talk about it a lot. (I guess you guys use it for nausea & vomiting?) We would use ondansetron, cyclizine or metoclopramide. Cyclizine is often requested because of the high patients get. We sometimes give high dose haloperidol.
I also would never use alprazolam - it's diazepam/lorazepam/midazolam for benzos here.
Our street drugs (that we mostly deal with in ED are) are mostly heroin, methadone, cocaine/crack, MDMA, ketamine, diazepam (or other benzo mix), and poppers (amyl nitrate), and of course cannabis vomiting.
Street fentanyl isn't really a thing here, and we don't have crystal meth (which I've only ever come across on US TV shows).
So what so what are your most common drugs and what country are you in?

Had my first endo appointment today and it went so much better than I thought (although the usual mixed feelings about knowing something is wrong with you!). I've been bedbound for months and experiencing the most difficult health period of my life. I was so worried that the doctor would ignore my concerns or try to gaslight me. Instead, I've come out of the appointment with 2x urinary cortisol and a dex suppression test, and a doctor who listened and strongly suspects Cushing's. He pretty much took one look at the stretch marks, hump and face and was like "yeah I've seen this before". So that's fab :)
I initially thought it would be caused by topical corticosteroid use (I've been on clobetasol propionate 0.05% between 2x daily and 2x weekly since I was 8, now 21). However, my endo says this is really rare and he suspects a benign pituitary or adrenal gland tumour. I'm wondering, could it be at all likely my topical steroids have caused Cushing's? I'm so lost haha.
Overall a really good experience though so thought I'd share! There are good doctors out there :'-)

I started taking drugs, first was just recreational but then because I'm my high functioning anxiety that also cripples me from being able to do a lot of things, I started getting addicted to xanax, which I'm not anymore, then I started smoking meth and it became the only thing that'd help me actually take action in my life, go to the appointments, plan out my day, map out my next 6 months, work on my goals, apply for jobs go to interviews etc etc I only took it because the only time I'd leave my room/bed is if I did, before I even touched it I was like that. Think I have undiagnosed adhd or something mixed with extreme anxiety because nothing fixed it even meditation, and it's hard to exercise when you physically just can't leave your room or bed, and I got dreams and I just couldn't stay motivated or get things done in life without the assistance of amphetamines as stupid as that sounds, trust me im a person who was never meant to touch that drug but I literally flunked out of university/college because I legit just couldn't get things done let alone show up to class. Didn't work for years. Wasted so much time. Only time I got anything done is when I was smoking meth. Sadly. I need help. I've spoken to a doctor but it's like they think im just trying to get drugs but I truly truly need help. It's effecting my relationship and I'm always so paranoid and anxious, even before touching the amphetamines. I'm struggling with my productivity, I can't get anything done and I've been like this for a long time I'm sure you remember me coming to you in the past about not being able to get things done I had to drop out of uni again because I was falling well behind but I reenrolled for next year to hopefully do better. I haven't had a job in years and I don't do anything with myself but I have so many goals and aspirations I've started drinking lots of coffee just to be able to be able to get out of the house I just feel like there's an underlying issue with my brain chemistry as I don't seem like everyone else, everyone I know is not like this
I thought my lack of focus and procrastination was cause I was depressed but I'm on the anti depressants and It feels like I'm throwing my life away because I can't stick to anything
Racing thoughts
Always distracted I've noticed this has been an ongoing thing for me for a long time now I just never have the focus or drive to do anything it feels like my brain and life is one big fog It's having an impact on my life and I can't afford to continue how I'm going. I need assistance to overcome these symptoms It feels like I'm just useless and lazy because i cant focus or motivate myself to do abything i want to do in life but even when I do start working and studying I'm still the same. I'm struggling.
I only took it because the only time I'd leave my room/bed is if I did, before I even touched it I was like that. Think I have undiagnosed adhd because I couldn't do anything and I got dreams and I just couldn't stay motivated or focus and I just couldn't get things done in life without the assistance of amphetamines as stupid as that sounds, trust me im a person who was never meant to touch that drug but I literally flunked out of university/college because I legit just couldn't get things done. Didn't work for years. Wasted so much time. Only time I got anything done is when I was smoking meth. Sadly.Being tired all the time Gaming-addiction Rejection sensitivity It is hard to get diagnosed as an adult and I worry that they think I am just looking to get drugs. I feel like I have had a huge burden my entire life and I think it is adhd

I started taking drugs, first was just recreational but then because I'm my high functioning anxiety that also cripples me from being able to do a lot of things, I started getting addicted to xanax, which I'm not anymore, then I started smoking meth and it became the only thing that'd help me actually take action in my life, go to the appointments, plan out my day, map out my next 6 months, work on my goals, apply for jobs go to interviews etc etc I only took it because the only time I'd leave my room/bed is if I did, before I even touched it I was like that. Think I have undiagnosed adhd or something mixed with extreme anxiety because nothing fixed it even meditation, and it's hard to exercise when you physically just can't leave your room or bed, and I got dreams and I just couldn't stay motivated or get things done in life without the assistance of amphetamines as stupid as that sounds, trust me im a person who was never meant to touch that drug but I literally flunked out of university/college because I legit just couldn't get things done let alone show up to class. Didn't work for years. Wasted so much time. Only time I got anything done is when I was smoking meth. Sadly. I need help. I've spoken to a doctor but it's like they think im just trying to get drugs but I truly truly need help. It's effecting my relationship and I'm always so paranoid and anxious, even before touching the amphetamines. I'm struggling with my productivity, I can't get anything done and I've been like this for a long time I'm sure you remember me coming to you in the past about not being able to get things done I had to drop out of uni again because I was falling well behind but I reenrolled for next year to hopefully do better. I haven't had a job in years and I don't do anything with myself but I have so many goals and aspirations I've started drinking lots of coffee just to be able to be able to get out of the house I just feel like there's an underlying issue with my brain chemistry as I don't seem like everyone else, everyone I know is not like this
I thought my lack of focus and procrastination was cause I was depressed but I'm on the anti depressants and It feels like I'm throwing my life away because I can't stick to anything
Racing thoughts
Always distracted I've noticed this has been an ongoing thing for me for a long time now I just never have the focus or drive to do anything it feels like my brain and life is one big fog It's having an impact on my life and I can't afford to continue how I'm going. I need assistance to overcome these symptoms It feels like I'm just useless and lazy because i cant focus or motivate myself to do abything i want to do in life but even when I do start working and studying I'm still the same. I'm struggling.
I only took it because the only time I'd leave my room/bed is if I did, before I even touched it I was like that. Think I have undiagnosed adhd because I couldn't do anything and I got dreams and I just couldn't stay motivated or focus and I just couldn't get things done in life without the assistance of amphetamines as stupid as that sounds, trust me im a person who was never meant to touch that drug but I literally flunked out of university/college because I legit just couldn't get things done. Didn't work for years. Wasted so much time. Only time I got anything done is when I was smoking meth. Sadly.Being tired all the time Gaming-addiction Rejection sensitivity It is hard to get diagnosed as an adult and I worry that they think I am just looking to get drugs. I feel like I have had a huge burden my entire life and I think it is adhd

Hi there! I'm been sifting through posts, but felt like posting here may be helpful. Is it possible to have a chronic, mild form of uveitis that is harder to detect? Backstory included, and in case it's relevant, I *am* being treated for autoimmune inflammatory arthritis, though we're still exploring what type it may be.
I have an optometrist I see every year, and he always talks about how bloodshot and irritated my eyes are, but nothing beyond that. Tells me to use eye drops. With that being said, my eyes constantly hurt, I feel pain behind them...sometimes aching, sometimes shooting, and my vision blurs frequently. Some days are particularly bad; I tell myself maybe it's a funky type of migraine. I am most concerned, however, because I'm in my very early 30s and during my last appointment, they told me I have cataracts in both eyes. I was told "not to worry about it," since they haven't progressed enough to cause problems, but cataracts at 30 isn't the norm (they're not from use of steroids). My eyesight changes every year, with this last time being a big jump. I also now have an astigmatism, which wasn't previously an issue.
Aside from the redness and irritation, I am always told my eyes are healthy and nerves are fine. I was sent to an ophthalmologist specifically to look into the cataracts, and was again told not to worry, since my vision isn't directly impacts by them at this time. The ophthalmologist did the same sort of exam I've always had done at the optometrist, though, so I have no idea if that's typical or if I should've expected something more.
I tend to go along with whatever they say, but after degradation of vision and development of cataracts, I'm wondering if it's a possibility I have some kind of low-grade uveitis getting dismissed as red, irritated eyes. I don't know if that's even a thing, though, or if maybe I'm reading into it too much. If it doesn't sound over the top and is an actual possibility, then I'd like to seek care elsewhere/look into other options. Threads I've seen here have been kind of a mixed bag with responses.

Last week I told the story of Zippy the Methhead Janitor. One of my favorite boomer coworkers who is just... Absolutely insane.
I made a post about her and a subreddit to help keep all the psychopathic stories from working in this hellhole in one place.
It's called Talesofzippy.
Last week she cussed me out in front of a customer and then tried to get me written up by lying to her boss about my involvement in a chemical mixing incident after I had a manager talk to her about her language.
This week she stuck her head into the kitchen after we closed to tell us to make ice cream for someone. I reminded her that she needs to not tell us what to do, and set her off.
She went to one of my coworkers and told him that if I was disrespectful to her again she was going to kick my ass. My coworker, obviously confused about why a twitchy ex amphetamine user was threatening me with physical violence, came to me and asked about the incident.
I would like to interject here that I am 6'0 and 240lbs. And she is 5'5 and like.... Maybe 120lbs soaking wet.
She's also 64.
He promised to take care of it, and I'm dying to see how that goes.
If she does any of this again, including threatening me, I'm going to HR to file a complaint.
Now. I want to tell one of my favorite Zippy stories, because it's fucking hilarious.
About 4 years ago I had just started working at this lovely institution I was working with zippy as a cashier. I was two weeks into working here, and as I entered the building I just heard screaming.
Zippy can't use her words very well, and when she talks to fast you can hear a vaguely Southern accent, but no coherent words attached to it. Best comparison I can make is Yosemite Sam from Looney Toons.
It's about 60 ft and a flight of stairs to get to where the employee area is, and yet the vaguely Southern screaming is perfectly clear from the entrance, with a few coherent swears mixed into it.
"Ahhhrewuaaaa... YOU COCKSUCKING MOTHERFUCKER, IM GONNA... WAAHRRUAA"
As I get closer to the employee area, I hear her storm down the stairs still pissed off... "YOU COCKSUCKER. .. MOTHER FUCKER"
right behind her I see Jailbird, one of my favorite coworkers, he's Jailbird because he spent 13 years in prison for meth related charges, and has an incredibly explosive temper. He waves to me and I go clock in.
Turns out, Zippy told Jailbird that he was going to run a register and she was going to stock the store, something that he usually did.
He objected to this, and asked her if she knew what needed to be done, because he had the list, and sure as hell wasn't giving it to her.
She replied "I know how to do your job better than you do!"
He then shot back "oh yeah? If you know so much about this job, why are you violating the dress code with that ugly fucking moustache!"
And so began the screaming.
He told her that if she got any closer he'd slap the moustache off her face, and she backed the fuck off.
One of my favorite stories from this place, right next to the gay slap fight.

i need help or advice
My 1yo female shepherd mix who is very active and energetic had an allergic reaction on Tuesday night (puffiness, swollen tongue). We brought her to the ER and she got a shot of Benadryl. Seemed better and was discharged. Next morning she was 10x worse with hives, face completely swollen etc and we brought her to the ER again at 5am. She got a shot of steroid and was sent home. She was also prescribed Prednisone (12/12hrs) and Benadryl (8/8hrs). We did the medication as prescribed and late that night she had another reaction and we again, brought her back and she got another shot of Benadryl. The following day she was throwing up and having diarrhea but no hives or signs of allergies. We made an appointment for the same day at our vet and we went over the same story and she did some blood work where our vet said her blood work came back higher than usual but her organs were normal numbers. She was given a shot of nausea medication with B12 if im not wrong and asked to be on a bland diet. We have no idea what could’ve cause the allergy so far.
Since then my dog has not been the same. All she does is sleep and lack energy which is very unlike her. We have another dog who she plays with non stop and even that, she won’t do. All her medication is now gone for 3 days and she is lacking energy and wants nothing to do with anyone or anything. She seems happy when we get home and is ok for a walk but is not being herself.
I called the vet again this morning and she said to do X-rays tomorrow or the next day.
Does anyone have any advice on what might be causing the lack of energy?!?! She is eating & drinking water.
I need my baby back!

My 1yo female shepherd mix who is very active and energetic had an allergic reaction on Tuesday night (puffiness, swollen tongue). We brought her to the ER and she got a shot of Benadryl. Seemed better and was discharged. Next morning she was 10x worse with hives, face completely swollen etc and we brought her to the ER again at 5am. She got a shot of steroid and was sent home. She was also prescribed Prednisone (12/12hrs) and Benadryl (8/8hrs). We did the medication as prescribed and late that night she had another reaction and we again, brought her back and she got another shot of Benadryl. The following day she was throwing up and having diarrhea but no hives or signs of allergies. We made an appointment for the same day at our vet and we went over the same story and she did some blood work where our vet said her blood work came back higher than usual but her organs were normal numbers. She was given a shot of nausea medication with B12 if im not wrong and asked to be on a bland diet. We have no idea what could’ve cause the allergy so far.
Since then my dog has not been the same. All she does is sleep and lack energy which is very unlike her. We have another dog who she plays with non stop and even that, she won’t do. All her medication is now gone for 3 days and she is lacking energy and wants nothing to do with anyone or anything. She seems happy when we get home and is ok for a walk but is not being herself.
I called the vet again this morning and she said to do X-rays tomorrow or the next day.
Does anyone have any advice on what might be causing the lack of energy?!?! She is eating & drinking water.
I need my baby back!

I was diagnosed with psoriasis when I was 13, and they spread from my arms to my face (its not bad at all, it goes away with Vaseline), my back, my legs and my scalp, My doc prescribed me enstilar for my body, and winxory for my face, they’re both steroid creams, I mix winxory with Vaseline or else it doesn’t work as good, they’re both very good for removing my red spots, do you guys have any recommendations about which moisturizers to use? And what creams do y’all use for psoriasis?

I'm writing in reference to my male, neutered, 10-year-old, mixed-breed dog. 13.5lbs.
My question is: What to do about vaccines moving forward? He has had two separate reactions to two different vaccines, one of which was severe.
His history: I adopted my dog from the shelter when he was full grown, about 2 years old, about 8 years ago. He was found as a stray so they didn't have any history about him.
A couple of days after I brought him home, we went to the vet for an exam and vaccines. My vet said that since we didn't have any history for him and because she's seen little dogs over the years have reactions to vaccines, that she'd prefer to give him a Benadryl shot first as a precaution. I said that sounded good to me and we did that for the next 3 years. He was always very tired and sore for about 3 days after getting his shots, but he didn't have any other issues. Our vet said we could give Benadryl and baby aspirin for that timeframe to help him feel better.
A few years later, the original vets had sold the practice. My dog was due for his Lepto vaccine that year (we do Lepto, DAPP, rabies, and Bordetella here). The new vet forgot to give him the Benadryl first, but I didn't know that. So we got his Lepto shot, got home, and he started throwing up clear liquid, panting heavily, not moving, generally looking really bad. So I called back immediately, took him back, and they gave him Benadryl and a steroid shot. He recovered but it was extremely scary. After that, I made sure that he was given Benadryl every time, and we did not have this reaction again.
Fast forward to this year, when he was due for everything: Lepto, DAPP, bordetella, and 3-year rabies. I spoke to the vet beforehand about his previous reaction, as always, and he got the Benadryl shot. She didn't seem overly concerned about doing all the shots together, so that's what they did, and they gave all of them in the same spot (on his shoulder blades). He was itchy at the injection site but otherwise okay when we left.
That night, he started developing a lump on his shoulder blades. It just kept getting bigger and bigger. By the time it was all said and done, this lump was about 4.5 inches long and 1.5 inches wide. It was absolutely enormous.
I had never seen anything like this. I called the vet when they opened the next morning and they said that this "happens sometimes" and that I could give Benadryl and apply a cold compress.
This did not help. He didn't have any other symptoms, but this one was terrifying. So I did a Chewy vet consult, and the vet tech was pretty concerned about the size of the lump. She made a couple of suggestions, but then also told me that very rarely, a vaccine reaction that causes a lump like this can cause a vaccine-related sarcoma. She said it happens more often in cats, but can happen in dogs as well.
So I booked an appointment with a new clinic immediately, for the following Monday (6 days after his vaccines). The vet there recommended a steroid shot to help the lump dissipate. We talked about the possible side effects of the steroid but decided that it was better to try to get the lump to go down. He got the shot and I am VERY happy to report that, a month later, the lump has completely dissipated! The best outcome possible!
But now, I'm at a point where I'm questioning whether I should move forward with vaccines in the future. I absolutely do not want my dog to get sick with a horrible disease when it's preventable, but I also have a dog who's had two different kinds of serious adverse reactions to likely two different vaccines (Lepto first, probably rabies this time). This second reaction was so bad that I was contacted by someone from the vaccine company, who said that his case was reported as a serious adverse reaction and that we could submit paperwork for reimbursement for treatment that we sought.
So far I've asked 3 different veterinary professionals their opinions. Here's what they said:
1) The vet who just administered this round of vaccines said that she is more conservative and probably wouldn't give the lepto and DAPP vaccines anymore, especially since he's had the shots regularly for the past 8 years and has probably built up immunity.
2) The Chewy vet tech said that at her clinic, they'd give the shots, but recommend staggering them over a few appointments.
3) The new vet who saw him after this reaction said that next year, we could do titers first to see if he needs Lepto and DAPP boosters, and that we could just do 1-year rabies vaccines from now on. If the titers show he needs boosters, they'll stagger them.
So I'm not sure what exactly to do next year, but I'm leaning towards option #3.
Rabies vaccines are required by law here and DAPP/Leptospirosis are considered core vaccines. We do bordetella because he gets groomed. We do not visit dog parks specifically, but we walk extensively every day and encounter other dogs then, along with streams and ponds.
Thank you in advance for any input! I want to be the most responsible dog owner I can be and do what's best for my dog and other dogs we encounter, but these reaction events have been scary and I'm just not sure what's best. We have about 11 months before his next round of shots would be due.

I have A LOT of insight to this kind of situation. We already know she was initially part of the tweeker crew, but clearly she worked hard on herself and had time under her belt. I don’t think we ever see her use or even talk much about missing it as much as cooking meth. She struck me as the booze and meth type, not the garbagehead type like Leanne and Angie.
You can sort of see her relapse coming when she left Coates. I say this because my decade long struggle with addiction, in and out of recovery, made me extremely familiar with the NA IP on Relapse; anyone with any experience in the rooms already knows this, “the relapse happens long before you pick up the drug”.
Doggett’s decision to go back into prison was a responsible decision, and going for her GED was obviously the right idea, but this is the way it is with addicts, when things are going really well, sometimes it scares us, we worry about how far that fall will be and how bad it’ll hurt…..and what happens with the test was the catalyst, she started catastrophizing, and went back to what she knew. She went back to what she felt was where she belonged and who she was.
I also don’t think she knew what the hell it was they were snorting. She probably thought it was meth or she didn’t care.
I must say though, I’m surprised they weren’t able to revive her, but this may have been before Narcan was widely and readily available, as a nasal spray, and not just carried by EMS but placed in facilities like AEDs and Fire Extinguishers. My rehab and halfway had narcan kits in nearly every room, in the hallways by the bathrooms on each floor, my clinic gives everyone their own box to have too—and I’m talking at least as far back as 2019, likely before then.
Of course, if she was baby fresh, never even did the stuff before, even if she wasn’t, my best friend died, she wanted to die too….its a sensitive thing to talk about.
But another person who wasn’t really my friend, but I knew him well, he was a nasty older town drunk, and a garbagehead, but he was used to pills or very tiny amount of fentanyl mixed with niacin. When someone gave him the real deal, he was found dead in the yard where I last saw him, —alive tho, high but alive. I wasn’t the person who gave it to him but I warned him not to do the whole thing ……
My own man, OD’d the same day he got out of jail—he was gone a month and change, the only privately ran county jail in NJ, that I believe gets federal inmates too now, usually on their way in or out of actual prison.
He had methadone in his system, and used on top of it. He never ever ODd before, he knew better, which told me he did it on purpose….its like a half hearted suicide attempt when people do that. It’s like, you don’t necessarily WANT to die, you just want to be high and not deal with whatever motivated you to use….but if you happen to not wake up, ……—-that’s usually as far as the thought goes.
That’s the best way I can describe it. Now, after I called 911 and saved him, I told him to be careful now, he told me he was sorry, and admitted he did it on purpose. But I knew more about the mixing long acting and short acting opioid risk than he. And you are most at risk to OD after being narcanned…… he literally did it again 24 hours later. After he just survived. That was an accident. He wasn’t trying to die that time.
Frankly, this is why I decided to be on methadone maintenance because I know how I am, and the risk is too great. I’d rather have a tolerance so a moment of extreme emotion and irrational thought…..doesn’t become a tragedy.
Because I think more often than not, when people decide to use not caring if they die or not, it’s fleeting. They aren’t thinking straight, it’s that fleeting depression kind of wanting to die…..or it’s carelessness.

For example mine is "A polar bear on steroids that can use a weapon and has above average human intelligence that for some god forsaken reason someone mixed with a cat which for some reason made her addicted to Oreos" so basically just in the most crack way possible describe Miss Circle!

Last week I told the story of Zippy the Methhead Janitor. One of my favorite boomer coworkers who is just... Absolutely insane.
I made a post about her and a subreddit to help keep all the psychopathic stories from working in this hellhole in one place.
It's called Talesofzippy.
Last week she cussed me out in front of a customer and then tried to get me written up by lying to her boss about my involvement in a chemical mixing incident after I had a manager talk to her about her language.
This week she stuck her head into the kitchen after we closed to tell us to make ice cream for someone. I reminded her that she needs to not tell us what to do, and set her off.
She went to one of my coworkers and told him that if I was disrespectful to her again she was going to kick my ass. My coworker, obviously confused about why a twitchy ex amphetamine user was threatening me with physical violence, came to me and asked about the incident.
I would like to interject here that I am 6'0 and 240lbs. And she is 5'5 and like.... Maybe 120lbs soaking wet.
She's also 64.
He promised to take care of it, and I'm dying to see how that goes.
If she does any of this again, including threatening me, I'm going to HR to file a complaint.
Now. I want to tell one of my favorite Zippy stories, because it's fucking hilarious.
About 4 years ago I had just started working at this lovely institution I was working with zippy as a cashier. I was two weeks into working here, and as I entered the building I just heard screaming.
Zippy can't use her words very well, and when she talks to fast you can hear a vaguely Southern accent, but no coherent words attached to it. Best comparison I can make is Yosemite Sam from Looney Toons.
It's about 60 ft and a flight of stairs to get to where the employee area is, and yet the vaguely Southern screaming is perfectly clear from the entrance, with a few coherent swears mixed into it.
"Ahhhrewuaaaa... YOU COCKSUCKING MOTHERFUCKER, IM GONNA... WAAHRRUAA"
As I get closer to the employee area, I hear her storm down the stairs still pissed off... "YOU COCKSUCKER. .. MOTHER FUCKER"
right behind her I see Jailbird, one of my favorite coworkers, he's Jailbird because he spent 13 years in prison for meth related charges, and has an incredibly explosive temper. He waves to me and I go clock in.
Turns out, Zippy told Jailbird that he was going to run a register and she was going to stock the store, something that he usually did.
He objected to this, and asked her if she knew what needed to be done, because he had the list, and sure as hell wasn't giving it to her.
She replied "I know how to do your job better than you do!"
He then shot back "oh yeah? If you know so much about this job, why are you violating the dress code with that ugly fucking moustache!"
And so began the screaming.
He told her that if she got any closer he'd slap the moustache off her face, and she backed the fuck off.
One of my favorite stories from this place, right next to the gay slap fight.

So thrilled my perioral dermatitis is finally gone!! I am pregnant so doxy was not an option.
Cause: I used steroid cream on my face for 5 months. Had no clue it would cause POD.
Solution: after much trial and error, below is the routine I have been using that finally made it go away. I’m sure time passing helped as well. From the day i stopped the steroid cream to the day it went away was about 9 weeks total of the dreaded rash. I definitely think it would have gone away sooner had I started the tower28 spray, sulfur mask, and distilled water initially. These two things seemed to make the biggest difference in combo with the avene ciclafate

1. Installed a filter on my shower head to prevent hard water from touching my face when hair washing, and use a spray bottle of distilled water when washing my face
2. De la Cruz Sulfur mask 2 times per day for 10-30 min
3. Wash face with distilled water only in AM and vanicream wash in PM
4. tower28 SOS spray on dry clean skin, wait for it to dry completely before next step
5. ivermectin cream (im pretty sure this was useless)
6. Avene ciclafate mixed with cerave baby lotion

I hope this helps someone! This sub was so helpful for me during this 9 week journey. Much more helpful than my derm who gave me ivermectin cream and said call her if it is still present after 3 months -__-

I was going through my roommate's things to steal some of his illicit drugs. He'd gone to the protests and knew it would take all day to protest and make bail.
I didn't find any meth but instead found something utterly despicable, a copy of "On the Road". I tried calling APD to let them know they had a harden, law breaking, fascist in custody. But I couldn't get through 911 as APD was only responding to lab mixes in hot car calls.
So I said screw it and will call Gov Abbott directly. But it appears he has changed his number since the time we hung out at Rain on 4th and killed a couple of guys, stripping them naked and throwing them into Town Lake.
Anyone with an updated contact number or know how I could meet up with Gov. Abbott? Like where does he hang out now- the party animal.

I remember when I was a little girl I would look in the mirror and just be so disappointed, in my mind, I was ugly, stupid, and poor, and it broke me completely. I would get bullied heavily in elementary school not only because I was poor but because I was chubby, while I ate lunch kids would stand by my desk and make pig sounds at me, oinking and calling me butterball. They told me I had meth head teeth. The only thing I liked about myself was my freckles but that brief feeling of liking myself soon disappeared when one boy told me it looked like I had shit splattered on my face.
I was eleven when I began to diet, whiten my teeth, and wear makeup. My teeth naturally straightened out on their own and I shed the weight with the help of heavy restriction, not without developing an obsession over how I looked. When I was twelve, boys began to notice me, I broke my nose and in doing so had to get it straightened out so I could breathe properly, no longer did I have my father's Roman nose which I so despised. I wanted desperately to be like the girls who ignored me and to be liked by the boys who bullied me for a little baby fat.
Because of this obsession, I didn't believe people when they told me I was pretty. Compliments always felt ingenuine and I naturally assumed boys were asking me out as a joke so I turned every single one down out of fear of humiliation. Deep inside me something seethed, I wasn't satisfied with the weight I had lost and begged and cried until my mom shared her Ozempic with me. I was thirteen.
Still, I could describe in detail the way I picked apart every flaw, the way I had autopsies on past conversations, searching for a new insecurity. One day I went into my dad's toolbox and stole his roll of duck tape and wrapped it around my waist. I was amazed by how beautiful I looked, my waist was the smallest of all the girls at my school and this felt like a victory. I tailored my favourite sundress on my mom's sewing machine to fit my brand-new waist and wore it to the first day back from summer break.
Everyone turned their heads to look at me, I thought that only happened in the movies until I strolled into English class with a waist the size of a tangerine. I shoved lies through my teeth about a gym and diet plan I had done over the summer to make myself look so small, my friends listened with eager ears and wide eyes trained on my midriff. The attention was more addictive than any substance I've put into my body. My friend had told me how the boys were talking about me and how they planned to ask me out, that's when I made up my mind.
It felt like a poison I happily drank, knowing all of the risks. Every Sunday after church I walked to the Dollar General by my house and bought five rolls of duct tape, two dollars each for one week of classes, ten dollars in total. The same woman was always there and she always smiled at me, asking what I did with all of the tape, my face would split into a sickly sweet smile as I told her a new falsehood every time.
My mother would comment on how she didn't want me to go anywhere by myself because I was too pretty to do so, this was like pouring gasoline onto my forest fire. In the morning when everyone was sleeping, I wrapped one roll of duct tape around my waist so no one could hear the sound; I took it off before my showers at night, water running as pain pushed tears from my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek until I could taste iron flood my gums. I was left with cuts and tears in my skin, flesh tender with torture, still, I mummified my body every morning with duct tape. Sometimes I would do my thighs if I wore leggings or skinny jeans so people would comment on my impressive thigh gap.
After a year of doing this, my midriff looked like a piece of raw steak beaten with a meat tenderizer until it was almost torn apart entirely. I wouldn't even let people touch me in fear that they could feel through my attempt at perfection. I started skipping church. Every weekend I shut myself inside so I could breathe at full capacity while I shut my blinds and stared at my ceiling, my mind went numb with the impending doom that I would suffocate myself with that dreadful silver tape when the bell rang. My whole life I had heard that beauty is pain and that's all I thought this was, I thought that models did similar things and it was just something I had to accept to be beautiful.
Essentially, I had turned into a zombie; my breathing was shallow, and I became pale, clammy, shaking, and nauseous. I couldn't stomach meals. Every night I would wake up around midnight and cough up my guts but I hadn't eaten any food so there was nothing left in me to vomit but bile and eventually blood. I stopped talking to people, I thought it better for them just to look at my pretty long lashes and my tiny little waist than to listen to me tell them I was fine through shaky breaths. My dad was so scared for me, he kept bringing food into my bedroom and would come to collect the uneaten dish when he dropped off the next. He couldn't look at me without crying. It was just his drowsy gaze piercing into my vacant skull while we both swallowed back what we wanted to say, the words dying in our throats, never to be heard.
Everything hurt all of the time, it didn't matter anymore whether I had the duct tape on or not. I almost preferred the feeling of it on so the stinging of the cuts and the soreness of my ribs was shielded by something. One day in PE the teacher asked me to sit out so I did. I tried my best to keep my vision straight and my head up while I watched the other kids play California kickball. It was okay until there was a suffocating feeling, like something was consuming everything in my body like tiny creatures with razor-sharp teeth were cutting their way up my organs. My body began to convulse as I coughed until I fell to my hands and knees, coughing up this invisible force in my throat. The game stopped abruptly and every pair of beady eyes turned to watch me writhe in pain on the dusty gym floor while I clawed at my chest and throat, eager to tear the skin off completely.
Mr. Duke jogged over to me, crouching down to my level and putting a hand on my back. With furrowed eyebrows, he asked what was happening and with nothing more than Ozempic running through my system, I screamed at him to get away from me. That final wave came like a million little hands of wind pushing at the back of my throat until I heaved up the very last of what was left in me. Hands flew over mouths while some gagged at the sickness once inside of me. On that floor was a pile of what looked to be red coffee grounds in a little puddle of cherry wine. I was as terrified as anyone else in the gym, I screamed between heavy sobs while scuttling away from the mess I had made.
I knew that this was the end of me, that I would be taken to a hospital and everyone would know what I had done. I didn't even need to go to the hospital for everyone to know what I had done. Once I had collected myself and began talking frantically in a hushed circle of my friends while we waited for the ambulance, one boy on the hockey team caught a glimpse of shimmering silver beneath my gym strip and snuck up behind me, pulling my shirt up and revealing the secret I carried like a cross I had to bear.
My back laden with strips of duct tape like it was armour was on display to my entire class, my shame shown to what I had perceived to be the entire world. The girls didn't find this so funny but the boys came up with the name of Tape-Face. I remember rushing to the locker room with my friends following close behind, I grabbed scissors from my pencil case and began to cut it off myself, ripping it away madly along with little segments of flesh. My friends watched in horror, they just stood like it was a game of wax museum and I was the security guard there to punish whichever moved first.
In the hospital, I couldn't face my parents, not even the doctor, I kept my eyes locked on my lap. I couldn't see their stares but I could certainly feel them digging into me like a frog on a dissection table. My mom was utterly speechless and my dad spoke only through voice cracks and subtle sobs while he brought me soggy sandwiches from the cafe on the first floor.
I took another week off school because I could predict the painfully true rumours and when I finally set foot back into the school, it was worse than I anticipated. I felt hideous, like a pig that had been chugging back lard in my t-shirt, sweatpants, and perfectly average body. My friends were hesitant to eat around me and tiptoed around the incident like it had never happened which almost felt worse than bringing it up. Others were not so kind. A group of kids, guys and girls all mixed together, the kind that stole cigarettes from their parents had waited until I came back to sneak away from class and cover my locker in duct tape. Over top of the tape they scribbled on a dictionary of names they would call me in the hallway "Tape-Face" "Fraud" "Botched" "Duct tape Barbie". One of the girls sat behind me in math and had cut little squares of duct tape to stick them into my hair, I called my mom in the principal's office and cried while the secretary had to cut it out of my hair.
My dad made the decision to pull me out of school, so I started homeschooling but that didn't stop the harassment. We lived close to the school and during lunch and after school kids would throw duct tape wallets and wads of tape onto the porch. My dad's final straw was when someone dropped off a Barbie whose waist and thighs had been wrapped in duct tape in our mailbox. He had contacted not only the school but the parents of the kids several times with no avail to the torment ending anytime soon. He moved us to a new town where I could go to class without anyone knowing the pain I subjected myself to for two years.
I'm in college now and I've never told anyone this. I've cut contact with everyone from that school. One of the bullies tried to reach out and apologize, blaming her behaviour on mental illness but that felt like she had shattered a plate and said sorry, thinking that it would put the plate back together. I told her I didn't forgive her and blocked her. A boy from the hockey team also messaged me, the one who flipped my shirt up. He said he just had a daughter he couldn't imagine her going through what I went through and that he's sorry for what he did. All I had to say was that I hope she doesn't have to go through what he put me through either.
​
​

I'm gonna give a little ⚠️content warning⚠️ here as this experience involves violence that resulted in deep rooted trauma for me.
Hi! I'm new to the reddit community but definitely not new to Charlotte's channel. As soon as I heard her mention this subreddit I RAN🏃🏻‍♀️ to download the app because I love sharing the wild sh*t that has happened in my life! Let's start with an oldie but a goodie because I got an invite to my 10 year high school reunion recently.
I grew up and attended high school in the Appalachian mountain area. There was still, of course, cliques like there are in any public school. I never really claimed to be part of a specific "clique" though. My style was "dress as punk as my Christian mother will allow me to" whereas the most popular style was Justin boots and Carhartt jackets at the time. Anyway, we would sometimes get out of our last class early if there was an "in-school" basketball game scheduled. My best friend at the time met up with me after class so we could sit at one of these basketball games together. We were sharing earbuds, listening to her iPod, when I was tapped on my shoulder by a girl standing behind me. I recognized her because we had classes together in the past but we were never close. We'll call her Becka I guess.
Becka proceeds to ask me why I was "talkin' sht" about her? I tell her that I had no reason to do that because I barely knew her, which was the truth. She walks away from me and my friend and goes back down the bleachers to talk with her group of friends. While it is a small town, I didn't even know this girl's friends well enough to be "talkin' sht" to them about her. Becka approaches me a second time to say "I KNOW for a fact now that you've been talkin' sh*t about me so why are you lyin'?" At this point I was annoyed, so I rolled my eyes and gave her the same response. Before she could say anything else I put my headphone back in to ignore her. I then watch her buzz all around the bleachers talking to everyone and not so subtly gesturing toward me.
BECKA APPROACHES ME A THIRD TIME. She sits one step above me in the bleachers to lean down and smack my foot that was propped in the seat in order to get my attention. I take out the headphone once more to ask what the f*ck she wanted, because at this point I didn't think she would escelate the situation any further. "My friends literally told me that they heard you talkin' shit so why even still lie about it?!" she asked. As soon as I turned my body away from her, she saw her chance and she took it like a cheap shot at the local pub. She pulled my head back by my hair and started hitting my face repeatedly. I had never been in a fight before in my life, so I was stunned to say the least. We later found out that not only were my glasses broken, but my nose was fractured and my tooth was chipped. My mother, infuriated, dealt with the matter legally as we didn't have the extra money to fix these things ourselves.
For those wondering where my "best friend" was during all of this, she was right there equally as stunned. I don't blame her for not jumping in to help me, but I blame every single student in that gymnasium who witnessed a girl being attacked by another girl, and chose to pull out their cell phones to video the incident rather than getting an adult involved. LITERALLY. ANY. ADULT. The whole student body and faculty were there. I made it all the way out of the gym into the commons area before a teacher seen my bleeding face and followed me to the bathroom to demand I explain what happened. I held it together until I got into the bathroom so no one would see me crying out of pure embarrassment and anger. I appreciate that this teacher was doing her job to the best of her ability by taking me to the front office to speak with the principal, but that only resulted in Becka getting suspended for a few days.
As soon as she was back in the hallways, she had convinced her whole group of friends to bark the word "snitch" at me every time they saw me. THAT is bullying. Being violently attacked is FAR WORSE than bullying. I say this because I saw a post in our 10yr Reunion event page that made me absolutely cackle. It reads:
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m aware there are people with mixed feelings about having our high school reunion. I’m fully aware some don’t want to show up because they don’t want to face people that bullied them in high school. I understand that completely. That is your choice you’re allowed to make. However, with that being said we are all grown adults now. Each and every one of us was also bullied in our own way. No it’s not okay. No it’s not acceptable. We all regret things in life when it’s too late. This is a chance to possibly get that apology you’ve always wanted. This is a chance to really get to know the adult version of our high school self. We’ve all changed in so many ways!! I’m proud of each and every one of you guys!"
I didn't expect anyone to acknowledge my specific situation in that post. Honestly, no one may even remember it because it wasn't them being traumatized in that moment. Anyway, I'm choosing not to attend because I've thought of every possible conversation I could have at this event, and none of them sound appealing to me in the slightest. If anyone wanted to befriend me after high school or see what I'm doing with my life, they could easily do that through their phone screen as I'm very present on most social media.
To conclude, I'm not sure if you'd classify this as petty revenge or just life taking a horrible turn, but I was told that Becka now enjoys doing dr*gs in her free time (meth to be exact)! I'm going to refrain from saying anything else about that because I personally feel yucky joking about addiction as I have two family members struggling with it themselves. Anyway, thanks for letting me dump my tea here!☕