#Childhood story

[whatsupbeanie]

Mirrors are scary :(

[sambootlegonline]

this one is about POKEMON!: part 1

[lolotheparagon]

The story of how I became a fan of horror

[im-really-confused121]

I remember when I was about 10 I went to a dinner party with my parents at a family friends house. I was excited because I knew it was a big party and that they had a son a few years older than me so there would also be kids there.

They said to me on the drive over however that I wouldn’t get to hang out with their son, he has just been diagnosed with schizophrenia and might find the party a bit stressful so he likely won’t be interested in playing with me.

I had heard of schizophrenia before and vaguely knew of it as a mental illness, however that was all I knew. Although I can’t remember exactly what my parents said, I know now, their explanation was incredibly well informed and lacked any stigma that was very common at the time (and still is).

I agreed thinking that if I had schizophrenia I would also probably want to stay in my room. This however didn’t bother me, naive 10 yr old me decided that I would be so fun that he wouldn’t even want to stay in his room, and that we could avoid the crowds together.

Obviously this didn’t happen. But I am still friends with him today, and sometimes I am fun enough that he hangs out with me.

So I guess now that I’ve studied psychology and am surrounded by people and families experiencing this regularly, I am thanking everyone who educated me in their lived experiences of mental illness however mild or infrequent.

Also just remember that there are always people around who just want to have fun or hangout with you. You don’t have to do anything to keep them around, we stick around just because we want to.

[manicpixxiedreambitch]

FUCKIN' FIVE CHAIN SWINGS??? I'M IMPRESSED LIKE GIRL HOW

STRAP IN FUCKERS I’M ABOUT TO TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE TIME I BROKE MY FIRST CHAIN METAL SWING.

Okay, so when I was in seventh grade, my dad built a large A Frame swing set out of wood (with chain metal swings) for my siblings and I. And for some fucking reason, to this day, I swing like a madwoman. I have switched to a rope swing with a wood board hanging from a tree because I have broken so many chain swings. Well, I would swing on the metal swing so much, my weight would grind the metal down that was holding the swing to the wood. Here’s what I remember:

I was swinging. It was warm outside. I’m going back and forth…

…back and forth…

…back and forth……

……back and forth……..

………back and forth…

Snap!

Let me tell you something

If you are on a swing

And you hear a strange loud snap

That is not a good thing

Suddenly, as I’m thinking

“What the fuck was that?”

I’m going back, suddenly I’m off the swing, I’m flying and I’m trying to figure out what was going down…

…then realized it was me…

And suddenly I’m on the ground flat on my back looking up at the sky and I’m wondering two things

1. What the fuck just happened?

And

2. Did I break my ass?

(Yes I did, its cracked down the middle)

My sister was standing ten feet away from me yelling “…You alright???? You okay???? You break anything????” And I was laying there like “Idk Sherlock that’s what I’m trying to figure out???” And my mom cane over and helped me up. Apparently from what she saw, she saw me swing forward, she saw me disappear behind the side of the house as I went back, she saw me swing forward, she saw me swing back and she did not see me come back forward and she thought “huh that’s weird”

Well, she went next door to tell my dad and I realized I was scraped up and bleeding. So naturally I shouted

“MAMA!”

“WHAT?”

“I’M BLEEDING!”

“THEN GO UN-BLEED YOURSELF!!!”

So I went inside. And I was putting bandaids on when my dad came in. And instead of asking if I was okay or whether I needed to go to the hospital, he asked, and I quote:

“Did you skip like a rock?”

And that, ladies and genderfucks, is the story of the first time I broke a chain metal swing and how I broke it. My dad fixed it five more times for me because I never learn and have no self preservation instincts when it comes to the bees in my head and a swing, and I broke said swing each time he fixed it.

[art-of-firefly]

This is the first time i remember this without feeling like an embarrassing failure

When i was in 2nd grade the teacher often sent me to help the 1rst grade because i always finished all my assignments too soon and she didn't know what to make me do (I refused to skip a grade because of social anxiety, but at the time i was called just 'shy and reserved').

One day i I was reprimanded for apparently doing their work for them instead of just helping them, it was just a simple scolding, she wasn't angry or anything but I was devastated and it took me a decade to overcome the shame of disappointing her.

I was thinking about all the things i still feel overwhelming shame and distress over and i realized most of it will probably (hopefully) feels like this anecdote in a decade or two, i will realize it wasn't that important, that no one else will ever remember it and it's really not that shameful.

It's an encouraging thought. Also wtf is wrong with me for panicking over this for a decade, it's no wonder i grew up incapable of being a functional adult when that where i started off.

[matt-w-blogging]

When I was like eight years old I overheard my mother and aunt talking about how apparently if you don't learn to wiggle your ears as a kid, you'll never be able to, and that they wished they could wiggle their ears

And little 8-year-old me went "oh man, I better learn to wiggle my ears now so I don't regret it later!"

Anyway I can now and I have never once gone "boy, good thing I can wiggle my ears"

[grief-honey]

when my grandma died i was only 8

i became familiar with the stages of grief before i even knew how to properly tie my shoes

i used to convince myself that she wasn’t really dead

images of her breaking out of her mausoleum would come into my mind every day

i imagined her walking down the street, a blanket around her shoulders

shivering from the cold

trying to find her way back home.

i looked for her during every car ride

hoping we might pass her wandering.

we never did.

i’m 23 now,

and i still look for her in older women i see in public

hoping i might see shared features

or the same glasses

maybe a similar voice.

i’ve never found her

but i don’t think i’ll ever stop looking

[selenedistress]

One snapshot of my childhood that would prove prophetic for the person I am now, would be that time I was 10 years old, and watching episodes of the Annoying Orange on my dad’s laptop with my best (and only) friend at the time. Let’s call him Bill.

But first, some cultural context. In Greece, it’s generally expected that any kid would have to learn english at an early age, since that is a necessary language to know if one is to have any kind of career in their adulthood. Because english is the lingua franca of the world, and greek is a language only spoken in Greece (and half of Cyprus), and we are already surrounded by english stuff and largely irrelevant as a nation.

I was already taking english classes. Bill was not. So when we watched the Annoying Orange, I would understand the gist of what the videos were talking about, while my friend wouldn’t. But we would both generally laugh and have a good time.

So the next day Bill talked to our classmates about how fun the Annoying Orange was. He said he didn’t understand it, but the titular Orange said things like “Hey Apple!” and “Hey Pear!” et cetera, and he thought that was really funny.

And I, a monster of a human being, 10 years old, thought to myself how much smarter and discerning I was. I too laughed at the Annoying Orange, but that was because I knew what I was watching and listening to. I understood the jokes and nuances of the Annoying Orange and didn’t mindlessly laugh at its surface elements. But of course, I was too polite and emotionally intelligent to say that out loud to Bill. I didn’t want to hurt my friend’s feelings.

Now I’m 24, I haven’t spoken to Bill for almost a decade, I have watched and read and played a lot more media since then, I have developed my own taste in art and I have changed my name and gender, but that snobbish kernel of my being has remained mostly unchanged.

[rouxaroo]

Here's a funny story about how stupid BaeTae (little girl me) was.

A long time ago I got my first copy of the Pokemon game, it was Pokemon Gold, the original not Heart Gold. At that age I thought sharks were really cool and cute so I picked Totodile because I did not understand the concept of portmanteaus. Anyways this means that my rival picked Chikorita.

Side note when I met the rival the game told me their name was "???" So I could choose a name for them, but when the officer asked me what their name was I thought, "Well I can't lie to the police officer," (my how things change) and named my rival "???". This went on for years before I realized it was a choice.

Anyways back to the original story. Sometime later I encountered someone who said something to the effect of, "if a Pokemon is raised by a bad trainer they become bad." After that I then encountered the rival in Mahogany Town, where they sent out their Bayleaf.

A reminder on how Chikorita and Bayleaf look in Gold.

So when I saw this I noticed the slightly darker body, the darker leaves, the hole in the leaf, and the slight yellowing around the hole. I knew that usually that was an unhealthy sign in plants that had been munched on by insects, having grown up growing some of our food, so my little seven or eight year old brain decided that meant Bayleaf was dying. I cried for longer than I know with the battle music playing in the background before I eventually turned off the game, turned it back on, started over and picked Chikorita. I was so convinced that I had doomed Chikorita to death and suffering because I had not picked them and I felt so guilty about that even after the reset I felt guilty knowing there was one version of Chikorita out there I didn't "save".

[barbieboooze]

When I was younger in one of my old houses I had my whisper plush! He came with a little plastic hook on his head which in hindsight was probably to hang him up in stores but I refused to take it off.

I also happened to have a little metal hook in my ceiling at the head of my bed that I didn’t really have anything to put on, and whisper didn’t have anywhere else to go (i didn’t put any plushie in the closet bc i felt bad :( )

Soooo i hooked him up there and he watched me sleep for like a year or two until we moved out !

[pastellbg]

my fifth grade diary redrawn as promised. Notice it’s not very long because as a child I had a little thing called adhd that prevented me from doing something consistently. Also the blacked out parts are genuinely blacked out in the irl diary (and I have no memory of what it is) Ig it was just too secretive even for my diary.

[sambootlegonline]

this one is about POKEMON!: part 2

[gabriel-shutterson]

:0 As a fellow Dino kid I am asking about the parasaurolophus story??

AHAHAHAH

So dinosaurs were my first ever hyperfixation. I was born with OCD, and my hyperfixations have been prevalent since I was a wee lassie. And for whatever reason, it was dinosaurs my smol brain clung onto.

Now, I won’t say where, but I live about an hour away from a very prevalent natural history museum. They have some super cool prehistoric stuff there, including dinosaur skeletons.

So my parents, knowing that I was a dinosaur kid, took me to said museum a lot. Remember, I was only two or three. Because, hey, every three year old is a dinosaur expert.

Here’s where our story begins. We’re casually walking down the aisles of the dinosaur section, my small little brain happy as a clam. I can barely talk by this point, but I’m babbling happily to my parents about dinosaurs.

Suddenly, I smile and point at a nearby skeleton of a triceratops. “Triceratops!” I squeal.

“Good job,” my parents say, enamored by my wholesome interest.

I point at another skeleton, also very close. “Stegosaurus!”

I receive a headpat. “Very good, Jenny!”

We move onto the next room. A solid twenty feet away is a fossilized skeleton!

I light up. “PARASARALOPHUS!”

My parents are stunned. What the FUCK kind of three year old knows what a parasaralophus is from so far away?

While the parasaralophus story is most prevalent, I have had other similar moments. I tend to hyperfixate on super obscure things. Abraham Lincoln for example. Ancient Egyptian mythology. So I’d go to a museum and infodumpnon my poor, horrified family.

TL;DR what the fuck are hyperfixations

[mrtechnodads-updates-deactived]

Fearless: childhood story of a walk

the linked image :) !

x

[voxyldy]

06.24.2023

[TRANS]

OP shared an anecdote from Taehyung’s school days

Source: @TaeGuide

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