What's the most traumatic experience you've ever had? - Creepy uncles, bullying and bad accidents

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Nekromantik

I was phone!
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May 1, 2017
Two years ago someone got shot about 5 yards away from our back porch.

This was a nice place that we lived in, and had lived in for years. It's a very quite place were nothing bad happens. It happened in the middle of the night. We both heard what we thought was someone knocking at the door. Now years ago we lived in a not nice place and heard gun shots all the time, so I'm really stumped as to why we didn't recognize it as gun shots. Guess that's what we get for letting our guard down. Well about a minute after the shots we see police drive up. Go to look out the back sliding door and there it is, a body (and sadly not the first one we've seen that wasn't at a funeral.)

Turns out the guy was trying to beat and stab his wife and she ran away, and started to bang on doors screaming for help. She got in to one place and the owner had a gun. He tells the guy "stay back I have a gun", and the wife beater says "What are you going to do shoot me?" waves his knife at him and three shoots later he's dead. The management from our apartment sent out a letter later saying while it's nice to help you neighbor you should always let the police handle it.

So much for being over loud popping sounds like firecrackers. :(
 

Hellbound Hellhound

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Apr 2, 2018
As a small child I got lost at Disneyland Paris.

My dad had apparently assumed that I was following him, but I was instead engrossed in some arcade game involving plastic boats and water pistols. When I turned around, my entire family had disappeared, and while it doesn't seem traumatizing to me now, as a five (maybe six) year old in a totally foreign country, it was like my entire world had fallen apart.

I don't know how long it was before they found me, but it felt like hours.
 

UselessRubberKeyboard

Jet Set Neowilly
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Dec 25, 2015
I lived in a not-so-great area in a not-so-great city about 15 years ago. Woke at about 2am one summer morning to the sound of screams out back. My street backed onto a main street that was full of takeaways, and with it being club/pub kicking out time I assumed it was a bunch of idiots pissing about, cos screaming and yelling was a regular thing right about that time of the morning at weekends.

Police were all over the street and the back gardens the next morning. Turns out a guy further down the street had flipped the fuck out at his wife, chased her out of the house, and she'd run into the back yard and down the alleys at the back of the house, screaming for help. He stabbed her to death.

(That was the second murder in that street that month)
 

Kari Kamiya

"I beat her up, so I gave her a cuck-cup."
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Jan 12, 2017
For reals, it wasn't fun to watch my great-grandmother slowly lose herself to dementia, she had it for over a decade before she finally died. She apparently started getting it while I was still in elementary school, because there was a time when we were staying at my grandparents' place before our move, and our great-grandparents lived just down the street, so my brothers and I would sometimes visit after school. Then at some point my mom and grandmother just took us aside and asked us to not visit them alone anymore. Turned out that in the early stages of dementia, Great-Grandma thought they were being burglarized and we could've been falsely blamed for it. They were put into a group home about a few years after that, and when I was about sixteen Great-Grandpa died while the twins and I were out for a church youth group thing for that week, so we didn't get to go to the funeral. Great-Grandma had been forgetting about him by then and from what I was told, she just thought he was asleep the whole time and was grouchy at him because of it (she held a bit of a grudge toward him thanks to dementia, and that's why we think it took her so long to pass on).

I would visit Great-Grandma a few times during college, but it was just super uncomfortable being at a group home because it just never felt right (and I don't think it had anything to do with the elderly), and it also just sucked to see her like that. The last time I saw her, she just casually let me pick out a stuffed animal from her collection that I still sleep with, and while Grandma and her were in the front room, I ended up wandering off to one of the back rooms because an elderly woman kept calling out for help as she got stuck trying to get out of bed. After one of the nurses came in to fix her up (I tried to help, but I'm not strong enough for it and it just wasn't my job anyway, got scolded for it), I stayed to keep her company for a little bit before Grandma came in looking for me. I was apparently her only visitor in a long time (her children never visited), and when we left around their lunchtime, I gave the old lady a little hug. She passed away shortly after that, and I just didn't want to go back there anymore, it was too upsetting for me. So I didn't see Great-Grandma again until her funeral a few years ago.

Pretty sure that was much more traumatizing than when I was a twelve-year-old waking up to find my hamster dead (still not sure if it was old age or a disease I didn't catch in time).
 

Dolphin Lundgren

Picking blueberries with Henry Fonda.
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Nov 15, 2017
Three things come to my mind when it comes to traumatic experiences:

When I was five years old, there was a man at the church I attended who eventually molested me when he was babysitting myself and my brother. I remember him taking us to this park for a church event and I kept running off with my younger brother and hiding away with him because I was trying to keep us as far away as possible from the guy.
One more thing about this guy: Looking back as an adult, he was obviously a child molester. He was always paying extra attention to me and my brother and was always playing and tickling us in public. He wanted to marry my mom too. (Obviously to get access to me and my brother.) He wanted to work with disabled and handicapped children. God, I hope he didn't.

When I was on a day trip at the same church a couple of years later, I wandered off when my group was playing in the snow, and one of the two adults who were in charge of all the kids found me and took me to the log cabin to punish me. He took it way too far and pulled the bottom clothing down and spanked me, but thankfully my mom's friend (who was the other adult in charge) was suspicious (I was screaming and crying so loud that he heard me.) and stopped the other man before anything else could happen. He kept me away from the creepy asshole, and he told my mom and the pastor what happened with me, so they fired his ass.

My mom dying from Cancer in 2014 was also another obviously traumatic event. I wasn't there on the day she died, but it was scary seeing how she physically changed in such a short time and how thin she got.

I'm honestly not sure how I've changed from the first two. I'm more scared of losing people close to me after seeing my someone in my family die from Cancer.
......Okay, I wasn't going to write this at first but the molestation damaged me in one way. I didn't want to sound like some whiny person on Tumblr, but there's been a couple of times I've had people on here go "who molested you" and I won't lie- both times it freaked me out a little. And mentions of that does kind of trigger me.
 
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Supreme Sundae

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Aug 6, 2017
Having to take care of my dad from a super young age and watching him succumb to his MS months after his 50th birthday, right before Christmas eve. He was fully quadriplegic and it was only me and my younger sister caring for him for most of his life and especially in the last month, which was devastatingly brutal.

I got no sleep from having to constantly be at his beck and call (not to sound like a tumblrina, but baby monitors are kinda triggering for me, I've come to realize 5 years later). I was breaking down every day from lack of sleep and feeling so utterly hopeless because I just couldn't see and end in sight.

To make things worse, my boyfriend, (who at the time had to move in with me or else he'd be homeless, and hindsight - I should have let him be homeless) ramped up his alcoholism, threatened to kill himself a few times (actually had to stop him from looping a cord around his neck), hit on my sister, smashed my laptop and then physically attacked me.

Notice I didn't say ex? Due to the fact that my dad didn't want me to work in order to be home 24/7 to take care of him, when he died I had no means of supporting myself. None. I had to choose between working and going to school a couple of years before he really deteriorated due to being solely responsible for everything concerning him while my younger sister was still in high school. Obviously I couldn't afford to go to school without working, so I chose work over a degree. Now the current gap in my work history and lack of education are fucking me over hard.
 

ForgedBlades

Milled wedges.
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Jul 30, 2016
  1. The call I got from my mom telling me she found my brother dead. Hysterical doesn't begin to describe it. Jesus Christ, I can't even put those thirty seconds into words. My brother's death has fucked me up in a lot of ways, but the most tangible effect has been the mild panic I go into whenever she or my dad calls me, and I see either of their numbers on the screen. Every time my phone rings, I get a split second flashback, and I always assume when they call that it's going to be terrible news. Even if my phone vibrates from something as simple as a push notification, it fills me with dread. Typing this out, I know it sounds autistic, but it's shit that I deal with on a daily basis.
  2. Seeing my alcoholic father passed out on the kitchen floor, laying in a pile of vomit. I think I was about ten. I put a blanket over him. I saw my dad fucked up just about every night when I was a kid, but that night was the worst, and the visual of that, coupled with my action of putting a blanket on him in a fool hearty attempt to normalize his drinking has stuck with me.
 

Daughter of Cernunnos

Ghost husb@ndos
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Jul 17, 2016
I didn't mean to do it. I swear I didn't mean to. But I was in Milan and I didn't know where I was and I was drunk and she had this sweet perfume on that I can still smell even now and I thought she was a hooker but it turned out she was trying to lead me down this side street so these kids she was with could mug me but I saw them hiding behind the dumpster in that alley and I wouldn't go down there and she just started screaming at me in romani because she was a gypsy and she start howling something about rape and I tried to cover her mouth with my hand but she bit me and I heard police sirens then and I panicked and i squeezed her throat and she started kicking me and the kids tried to stop me and her eyes bugged out and rolled back and this kid with a knife started screaming at me about me killing his sister and he stabbed me in the leg so i grabbed his head and started beating it on the side of the dumpster and when his friend tried to stop me i had the kid's knife in my hand and he started crying then and saying if i let him go he'd never tell anyone but then there was blood everywhere and the dumpster was too full to hide them all so i had to stuff the kids in a nearby couple of trash cans and i had to drag the girl across an empty street at four in the fucking morning so i could throw her off of the bridge and into the river and then i started throwing up and i don't know how but i made it to a nearby bar and there was a dealer in the bathroom and he gave me coke to snort but then he saw the blood so i panicked and stabbed him and locked him in the one toilet and then i snorted more coke and washed my hands and then i puked in the corner and ran out of the bar waving my coat around like it was a cape and screaming like a fucking banshee into the night and i still don't know how but i woke up in a park with some homeless people and they stole my shoes and my belt and one of them was trying to have sex with me and i had the coke and the knife and a bottle of beer from somewhere and when he was dead i started screaming again and i ran away to my hotel after puking acid into one of the ornamental plants in the lobby and the chick who worked the elevator laughed because i fucked her there twice before and we did coke in the elevator as she took me to my floor and got back to my room i packed my shit and went straight to the train station and got the fuck out of italy before i had to sell all of the coke in the bathroom in the airport in nice after i crossed the border and got a plane ticket back home and to this day i have no idea if those bodies were ever found but i have nightmares about dead children in dark alleys with knives in their teeth while stone cold coke dealers hide in public bathrooms waiting to get me as i take a shit while pale romani whores watch me from the bottoms of rivers just waiting for the chance to grab me and drag me down into the dark with them and i need more coke i need more coke coke coke coke coke...
Don't feel guilty. Killing a gyp is the moral equivalent of killing a parasite.
 

Sushinope

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May 17, 2017
1.I was molested by my grandfather when I was little and blocked it out for a few years, he could've been put away but it was my fault that he didn't since I didn't understand it or remember it when CPS questioned me.

2.My dad had a heart attack at work then crashed the forklift he was on into a wall,he broke a his ribs, nose and jaw. He was on life support for over a week and he passed away, my aunt kept trying to fight my mom about her taking him off of life support. Since she thought he'd just wake up and my mom was just trying to follow his wishes since he never wanted to be a vegetable and he wanted to donate his organs, by the time all the fighting was over his organs couldn't be used.

3.Not trying to sound like Chris Chan but seeing my dog deteriorate from blasto was traumatic since he was healthy then needed to be put down less than a week later since he wasn't breathing enough so his brain was damaged and the infection spread to his eyes.

4.My ex was abusive and a feeder so he forced food down my throat a few times then got violent when I started trying to lose weight and not constantly pay off his debts.I got pregnant and he got pissed since he wanted me to get rid of it, I told him if he didn't want it then he can leave and I won't expect money from him. He pushed me down some stairs then held my loss of pregnancy against me whenever he got angry at me until he cheated on me and dumped me.
 

Count groudon

Concentration camp counselor
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Apr 18, 2013
When I was like 15 me and my parents were heading out to another county to spend the day together, but on the way we drove past the scene of a horrible accident. Some guy was taking his wife and kids out for the day when suddenly he hydroplanes and slammed into a guard rail. The guy wasn't wearing his seatbelt when he hit, so he was thrown out of the car through the windshield. I only saw it for a couple of seconds, but it's been burned into my mind ever since. The guy laying there covered in blood with his body so limp he looked like rag doll some kid threw down the hallway, the wife laying in the passenger seat in shock and unable to do anything but just sit there and stare, the kids desperately trying to open to door to get out of the car in sheer panic and the emergency teams fighting like hell to save them, and the officer on the scene wearing the most absolutely crushed look on his face that I'd ever seen a man make. It was the first time I'd ever seen anything so gruesome and even today when I think about it I start shaking.

Then there were the times I visited my grandfather in the hospital in his final months. That man was without a doubt my hero growing up, served in the military, worked his ass off running a bulldozer until his company told him he had to retire or they'd get in trouble and even then he still did small jobs for friends in his personal time, and the man was so unshakable I'd never seen him so much as break a sweat even in the most dangerous situations. I swear that man was made of iron, but he was always a goofy lovable old grandpa that'd always play any game with me no matter how ridiculous it was and he'd never raised his voice at me no matter how much of a little shit I was being. But then one day he got sick and he had to be taken to the hospital and from there it got even worse. He was always in a state of panic and he was constantly begging and fighting everyone to let him go. It got so bad at one point that they had to restrain him to the bed to keep him from wandering off or hurting himself and the staff told us we'd have to put him in a nursing home. Seeing the guy that I'd idolized since I was a kid become that tore something out of me, and it was made especially worse by the fact that whenever he saw me or my baby cousin he would actually fight it and try to act like the old happy grandpa he'd always been. Eventually his body just couldn't handle it anymore and he passed away. When we got the call really early in the morning I swear to god it was like ringer sounded different, it sounded heavier and slower. I was 17 at the time, and at that very moment it felt like I went from a dumb kid to an adult, like all of the happy little fun times were gone and now I had to deal with all the things the real world had to offer. Honestly I can barely remember most of it, I think I actually repressed a lot of what I saw but what I do remember hasn't been able to leave my mind all these years.
 

Gordon Cole

Yep, he's dead
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Jul 10, 2015
There was one time when I was six, my dad, sister & I were driving home one Sunday afternoon. Off on the side of the road was a sedan fully engulfed in flames, with the driver, trapped and burnt to a goddamn crisp looking at me as we drove away.

Another time was when some gross fat dude fondled me at a lunch place near my high school when I was 15. The owner was right there laughing at me as I squirmed out. Then I ran back to school, told the principal what happened, and watched as my mother went to the lunch place and chewed the owner out with the fury of a dying sun right in front of an audience of middle/high schoolers. So of course, word spread like wildfire and a year later, the place shut down. Now it's a Mexican place. (P.S. They have bomb-ass guacamole.)
 
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