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if Raoul Duke had witnessed the Las Vegas sphere it would've put the fear of God into him

You will not use AI to get ideas for your story. You will lie on the floor and have wretched visions like god intended

It's so frustrating that I'm only seeing more and more lobotomy jokes. Especially "live, laugh, lobotomy" merch.

You are making fun of the torture of disabled people. People with intellectual disability and severe mental illness brutally had parts of their brain severed or killed. Many people died from this. We can never know the true impact because the people who endured this were not the same after.

We shouldn't be bringing this up in any lighthearted way. This was a tragedy, and we should be showing basic human respect to the victims. I don't think anyone can "reclaim" it and no one should want to. Please treat it with the severity and respect you would to any other mass tragedy from history.

🚨 Hello friends 🇵🇸

I am Maram Nabulsi from Gaza, a 17-year-old girl. My home in Khan Younis was destroyed, and I found myself and my family living in a camp for displaced people in Mawasi Khan Younis, under the scorching sun, inside a tent swaying in the wind.

Every day is a new battle. I was deprived of studying for my last year in school and graduating from it, my dream of joining the human medicine specialization was taken away from me, my hopes and dreams have faded since the outbreak of these damned events on October 7. 🇵🇸

I feel as if the world has abandoned me, and no one cares. In our small tent, we are under physical and emotional siege. Every night I reach my hands to the sky, and ask God to give me the strength to overcome this nightmare, I need your help to save my life and complete my dream abroad

gofundme.com

Donate to Please help my family in Gaza, organized by Nabulsi Family

Hello, I am Mohammed nabulsi . My family consists of five members and we live in Khan Yun… Nabulsi Family needs your support for Please help

Please donate +20€ to save my life🙏❤️‍🩹

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The compassion leaving people's bodies as soon as someone's mental illness gives them violent tendencies

Fucked up that you have to go to work during the winter. Should be curled up in a little nest with several months' supply of food stocked up right now.

just cast the fire spell. dip shit

TW: self-harm / suicide

I recently experienced my 3rd psychiatric hospitalization in 4 years and my first involuntary one. Well, partially involuntary. I wanna discuss this one for a couple reasons; firstly because it's the first one that's happened since I started this blog and second because it's the first one where I attempted to document my thoughts during my stay.

I started out with a wide-ruled notebook, but was later offered a pocket-sized college ruled one that I vastly preferred, so I copied everything I'd written up to that point including ripping out some of my doodles that were small enough to fit.

It started at noon on July 3rd. I had a scheduled therapy appointment during which I confessed to thoughts of self-harm. My therapist and my caseworker arranged for me to be transported to an emergency room and from there I would be taken to the first open bed they could find in a psychiatric institution. All of this I agreed to voluntarily.

I've censored the location and the doctor's name for privacy reasons. The "crying, slobbering fit" was so severe I was physically incapable of forming intelligible words. Every single time I write the name of a specific drug I spell it incorrectly because I was told the names out loud but not given anything with a label to read.

Some doodles I did post anxiety attack. I think that's the correct term for what happened. I'm still trying to find the appropriate terminology for whatever it is that's wrong with me.

I hope you're all prepared for many more 12 Monkeys references. Also just wanted to share the story of "Book Club Guy." There are several phrases I will never pronounce the same again thanks to him. He was discharged relatively quickly and I miss him every day.

The old man in question was barely capable of even standing and had apparently been in this hospital for close to a year. Incidents like the one described in the second paragraph happened more frequently as my stay went on as that particular patient grew more and more frustrated.

Also "Vitamin H" is a term for haldol that I heard somewhere once and I've been using it ever since.

At this point, my stay had boiled down to taking drugs and then sitting in front of the tv for hours. I felt that if that was all that was neccessary to keep me safe I could easily do that at home. I was told if I kept requesting to go home they would hold me involuntarily and so I pressed the issue really just to prove a point about how a "voluntary" status was bullshit. They essentially told me to put a pin in it and talk to the doctor again when he came back. Talks with the doctor rarely lasted more than a minute or two and I did not feel like waiting all night just to speak with someone for 60 seconds.

When the shift changed and the new nurses arrived I pressed the issue again and that's when they put me under the 96 hour hold. I requested a bible because I was bored and copied down a few verses that I liked. The hospital was a catholic institution so they had plenty of bibles lying around but only with the new testament and psalms. We also had prayers over the intercom every morning and night.

The thing that frustrated me most is that I was given very little time to talk to a professional of any kind. So one of the nurses offered to let me vent to them, which I did.

I was in the grip of another anxiety attack at the time. I was raising my voice, banging my head against the wall, pulling at my hair, etc. Me and the nurse were pacing back and forth down the hallway the whole time. At some point when I reached the end of the hallway, I turned around and a second nurse had arrived with syringe in hand and told me I needed something to calm me down.

We ended up compromising and just giving me a dose of clonazepam and sleeping in the quiet room so they could keep a closer eye on me, but I don't think I'll ever be able to fully trust nurses ever again.

If it wasn't obvious the book my parents had brought for me was Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas.

The last page or so was pretty all over the place. "The Corner Where You Can Hear God" was a corner where you could hear some type of machinery running 24/7 but only if you wedged yourself in with both shoulders against the wall. The patient who first pointed it out was half joking when he said it, but at some point I had taken to crawling into that corner to "pray." It brought some sort of comfort that I couldn't really explain.

Also fuck Wendy's and their stupid fucking ads.

I was released on July 11th at 11:52 am. As I was leaving the patient who had the outburst I wrote about on July 6th was melting down again. He insisted on leaving, and I quote, "TO-FUCKING-DAY!" He must have repeated that phrase at least a dozen times at the very top of his lungs. The image of him with half the nursing staff backed up against a wall, leaning further and further forward with each shout hasn't left my mind.

They insisted I not worry about it as they shoved me out the door.

As I write this now I don't really understand why I felt the need to write all this. I'm still not entirely sure what I've gained (or lost) from this experience.

As a child I was given a diagnosis that technically no longer exists. Our understanding of psychology changes every day. Our mental healthcare system doesn't.

I can't tell you how many times I've been told by a nurse that they just straight up don't know when one thing or another is supposed to happen. Nurses and patients alike are left hopelessly uninformed about decisions that affect the lives of countless people. If my 96 hour hold had ended on a weekend, I would have been forced to stay up to an additional 48 hours because hospitals can't be fucked to discharge people on weekends or holidays.

People who are less coherent than me, less capable of masking than me, less capable of controlling their emotions than me are trapped by the thousands in shoddy institutions run by emotionally disconnected bean counters kept alive by a dying backwater religion that steals billions from us every year.

I don't even know what to do anymore.

I love how there's a thick, dark substance deep within the earth that was formed by the deaths of billions of lifeforms and has been trapped there for millions of years, that when harvested can weild such great powers that leaders are willing to start wars and slaughter millions just for it, however using said powers causes the very weather of our world to become corrupted, and yet we decide to name it after fucking olive juice.