Bimql chhetry.

Okay so I have had three shroom trips with psilocybin mushrooms and all of them have been very bad experiences but have left me with major insights about myself, (hence why i continued to do them after the first time), Recently i discovered the term "ego death" and am curious if anyone can tell me if thats what I experienced or if anyones experience on psychedelics was similar to mine. Heres what occurred... Trip #1). The first time I did this me and my friend (we are going to call her A) decided to take 6 grams. Yes I know that this was a bad decision but prior to this i became really fascinated with psychedelic assisted therapy and I CONSTANTLY researched psychedelics AKA curiosity killed the cat. Anyways, after taking this heroic dose I began to feel this onset of anxiety like something wasn't right and I had made a mistake, about 30 minutes after taking these shrooms I began to feel as what I can only describe as being sucked into my own mind and my eyes were fo...

I thought she was just acting weird, at first. For some clarification, my girlfriend had been planning a trip to California for the last four months. Normally, I’d have gone with her, but it was for her grandmother’s birthday. She was old, and this could’ve quite possibly been my girlfriend’s last chance to take a trip with her. She had spent those four months meticulously planning, as she always did, and the week before the trip, she must’ve had at least five full bags packed for her week-long venture. “You can never be too careful,” she always told me. She was always the planning type. Mapping things out. Going over every possibility. It was one of the things I admired about her. She hated when things didn’t go the way they were supposed to. That’s why, on the day of her trip, when I woke up to find her still lying in bed with me long after her early morning flight, I almost panicked. I shook her awake frantically, and her eyes slowly rolled open. She groggily asked why I was waking...

So some backstory. My sister and I have never really been close, but we’re not enemies either. Typical sibling stuff growing up, nothing crazy. When she got engaged last year, I was genuinely happy for her. I offered to help pay for the flowers, drove four hours to help her try on dresses, the whole supportive-sister role. Fast forward to three weeks ago. I get a text, not a call, a text, that just says “hey, so, I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come to the wedding anymore.” I thought she was joking. I actually laughed and texted back “lol why.” She said, and I am quoting this exactly because I still have the messages, she said “you know how you are, everyone always says you’re the pretty one, and I don’t want that energy at my wedding, I want it to be about me.” I want to be really clear here. I didn’t ask to be “the pretty one.” I didn’t do anything at any family event to make it about me. This is a title that other people apparently gave me over ...

That’s not a joke. That’s not a typo. My future mother-in-law, Linda, sat me down at her kitchen table, slid a small box across to me, and said, “I just think it’s important… for everyone to know the truth before you say ‘I do.’” I laughed. I genuinely thought she was messing with me. But her face didn’t move. Not even a little. See, my fiancé, Caleb, has always looked… different from his dad. Darker hair, darker eyes, nothing like the rest of that blonde, blue-eyed family. It was a running joke at Thanksgiving. “Mailman’s kid,” his uncle used to say, laughing. Caleb laughed too. Nobody ever meant it. Except apparently, Linda did. She told me she’d “had suspicions for twenty-eight years” and that she needed closure before her son started a family of his own. She wanted ME to be the one to get him to swab his cheek. Like I was supposed to slip it into conversation. “Hey babe, love you, wanna casually find out if your dad is your dad?” I told her no. I told her that wasn’t my place, and...

So for context, my mother-in-law and I never really got along. Polite, but cold. Fifteen years of birthdays and holidays where she’d smile at me like I was a stain she couldn’t quite scrub out. On my wedding day, she pulled me aside — away from my husband, away from everyone — and handed me a small wooden box. She said, “Promise me you won’t open this until I’m gone.” Then she just… walked away. Never mentioned it again. Not once in fifteen years. Last week she passed. Heart failure, sudden, nobody expected it. At the funeral, I kept thinking about that box. It had been sitting in the back of our closet for a decade and a half, and honestly? I’d almost forgotten about it. But that night, after everyone left, I finally opened it. Inside was a letter, a photograph, and a ring I’d never seen before. The letter started with, “You were never who I was cold to.” Turns out, she’d mistaken me — for years — for someone else entirely. Someone who’d hurt her son before he ever met me. A situatio...

\*True Story\* Last night i (17f) was out with my friend (17f), her boyfriend (19m) and my boyfriend (18m). We were at my friends house, getting drunk like usual teenagers do. As my friend's boyfriend fell asleep, she got curious, and went through his phone (guessed the password from common sense, i forgot how tbh). My friend found that he was messaging other girls, cheating basically. She then found that he was texting this middle-aged guy (40-50m). The man sent videos of him h\*tting and ab\*sing his 13 year old and 8 year, naked, daughters. Her boyfriend then sent back a video to him m\*sterb\*ting and eventually ej\*culating to that video the middle-aged man sent. After, she went into his camera roll and found extremely explicit videos and photos of under-aged children. She was mortified. Her boyfriend woke up, pissed drunk and stormed out and was violent. He took his car keys, and drunk-drove and then skidded off the road, the car flipped many times, leaving it all beat up a...

Im a fit male in my 20s and have a retired old woman, probably in her 70s living on her own living in a house opposite to mine. One night at around 5:30 PM after work, I was walking out of the bathroom naked in my house when i caught an old woman looking into my window while she was in her house. She kept looking as i was towelling myself off and went into another room. The next day I see her staring into my open window at around 5:20 PM. She didnt move away from her window for about 10 minutes and I could clearly see her staring into my window. I did what I usually did and went to take a shower, came out, peaked out the window and she was still staring. I thought she was clearly waiting to see me naked so I remained unclothed for the rest of the night while moving around my house, passing by the window a few times every hour. All the while, she was sat by the window, watching tv while peeking through her window. This went on till about 10 PM when I went to bed. This continued on for ...

There’s nothing wrong with my marriage. Me and my wife have been peaches and cream since we first started dating when I was a freshman in college. We moved in together after graduation, and for the first few years, everything felt normal. We’d have our date nights. We’d have our intimacy. But, of course, as is the case with every marriage, arguments were inevitable. They never escalated, though. That was never our problem. The problem started when, after five years of living together, I started catching her sneaking out at night. She’d always wait until I was asleep. I know because, after a few times of me waking up in the middle of the night in an empty bed, red flags started popping up. At first, I didn’t want to assume. She was a smoker. Maybe she was just having a cigarette. Maybe she was just in the bathroom. She was hungry and in need of a midnight snack. Anything to keep the dark thoughts at bay. Unfortunately, those hopes were shattered when I started hearing the front door op...

22/F. Utah. Uinta Basin. I moved here six months ago for a job I don't even like. My coworkers are fine but they're all married with kids and their idea of a wild Friday is happy hour at Applebee's. I needed friends. I needed to get out of my apartment. I needed something. So I joined a run club. Found them on a local Facebook group. Casual trail runners. All levels welcome. The photos were normal. Smiling people holding post run coffees. Sweaty selfies at trailheads. Everyone looked happy. Everyone looked safe. The first run was a Saturday morning. Five miles. Easy pace. I showed up nervous, new shoes, water bottle, pepper spray on my keychain because I'm not stupid. I know what it's like to be a woman alone. I know the rules. Don't walk to your car with headphones in. Don't leave your drink unattended. Don't trust a man just because he smiles at you. But he had a really nice smile. Let's call him Jake. I don't want to use his real name. I don...

This is incredibly difficult for me to talk about. I feel, I don’t know, ashamed, I guess. Like I’ve somehow failed as a parent. When I was growing up, I thought my parents hated me. I never wanted that for my daughter. I wanted her to know how much I loved her. That my love was unconditional. I’ve never felt as proud as I did the day she came into this world. It was almost like looking into a mirror. She had my eyes. My ears. Our noses were practically identical. And her smile, God, it was like nothing else mattered in the entire world. I wanted her to have that same pride in herself. I never wanted her to ever feel any self-hatred. That’s another thing my parents made me feel. I didn’t get their pride. I didn’t get their love. I got cold stares. I got nights where I couldn’t sleep because Mom’s cries were so loud. I didn’t ask for my family. I didn’t ask to be assigned to them. They were supposed to accept me, and they failed, miserably. I guess the universe has a strange sense of h...

I’m not usually one to snoop through my girlfriend’s personal devices. I always saw it as a breach of trust. But I’m only human. I wouldn’t have been so curious had it not been for this particular phrase she always used. “You gotta stop with your attempts.” She’d always say it in passing. Never “stop with your attempts to flirt,” or “stop with your attempts to get back on my good side.” Just… “you need to stop with your attempts,” randomly. At the grocery store, in the car, sometimes while we watched movies or had dinner together. The thing that I noticed was that she seemed to say it most when she was happy. It was like a tick. Her eyes would be filled with love and joy before suddenly dulling, and she’d shoot me a quick frown before saying it. I’d learned a long time ago that asking what she meant would get me nowhere. It’d always be the same. “I just love you! But then I think about the attempts, and I just get so sad. I wish you’d stop.” That’s all I’d get out of her. No explanati...

**My MIL spent 8 months secretly building a fake custody case against me. I let her spring the trap before dropping my own evidence.** I never thought I’d be the kind of person who installs hidden cameras in my own living room, but here we are. To give some background: My husband "Lucas" (34M) and I (32F) have been married for six years. We live in Denver and have a 3-year-old son, Oliver. Before I had Oliver, I was a senior interior designer. I took about 18 months off after he was born, and honestly, I loved it, but by month 16, I was losing my mind. I missed my career. When my old firm offered my job back at three days a week, I cried happy tears and took it. Lucas was completely supportive, but we were stressed about the daycare waitlists in our area. Enter my mother-in-law, Margaret. Margaret had lost her husband a little over a year prior. It was sudden, and she was incredibly lonely living by herself in the suburbs. When she heard about my job, she immediately offered...

My name is Claire, and up until I met my husband Daniel, I lived a pretty boring life. I grew up in Columbus, Ohio. My dad fixed HVAC systems and my mom worked a dental front desk. I studied accounting in college because it was practical, got my CPA license, and became a senior corporate auditor in Chicago. I was really good at it. My old boss used to say I could find a missing penny in a spreadsheet with ten thousand rows. That was basically my superpower. Then I met Daniel. He was in Chicago for a work trip, we hit it off at a coffee shop, and eighteen months later we were married. I packed up my apartment and moved to San Francisco. That’s when I met his mother, Victoria. Victoria lived in Pacific Heights on a stretch some locals call Billionaire’s Row. The first time I walked into her house, it looked like a museum. Marble floors, oil paintings, a full-time staff. Victoria hugged me, told me I was exactly what Daniel needed, and played the perfect welcoming mother-in-law. It took ...

Is it better to speak, or to die? The question belonged on the pages of some dusty, forgotten philosophy book. I felt like one of those books - left on a bottom shelf, accumulating dust. Outside, the wind battered against the windows, echoing the chaos in my mind. I didn’t move. It didn’t matter; nothing matters when you’re sad. When you’re sad, the world feels ruined. What’s meant to be an ocean blue, calm and predictable becomes a tornado of waves sent to pull you under, to wrap seaweed around your frail neck - if you exist that is. Silence is an omen of peace, whereas, words are an enemy on a battlefield. Armoured and heavy with artillery and weapons, filled with hope for destruction, a destruction of peace. I kept my mouth shut, my teeth clenched tight as if my tongue was a trigger and my mouth a gun. I could hear the house settling, the floorboards groaning under the pressure of the foreboding wind, but I was listening for something else - the sound of somebody approaching, comin...

I design the electrical systems for hyperscale data centers. Before 2024 I worked on hospitals and university research buildings. Clean power, redundant feeds, UPS topology. Standard stuff. Then the AI buildout started and everything changed. I've worked on seven facilities now. Four in Texas, two in New Mexico, one in Ohio. Every one was the same: 500+ megawatt campus, multiple utility feeds, on-site substations. The specs were aggressive but not unusual. The load profiles were what got me. A normal data center draws power in a pattern. It fluctuates. Training jobs spin up and down. Cooling varies with ambient temperature. You can model it. You can predict it. These facilities don't draw power in a pattern. They draw power in a curve. A smooth, continuous, accelerating curve. Flat at night. Rising during the day. Higher every week. The load never dips. It never spikes. It just climbs. I asked the lead electrical engineer on the first site what kind of compute load produces a ...

The test was still in my hand. **Two pink lines.** I was standing in my own bathroom, in my own house, shaking like it was thirty degrees outside instead of a warm September evening. And that’s when I heard my husband’s voice through the old vent above our bedroom closet. Low. Careful. The kind of careful you only get when someone doesn't want to be heard. "...she doesn't even suspect anything. We just need six more months. Get through the holidays, get through the refinance, and then I file." And then... my sister’s voice answered him. "Six months, Danny. That's all. Then it's you, me, and this house." I stood there. Positive test in one hand. Phone in the other. And in that moment, I stopped being the woman they thought I was. My name is Rachel. I was 31, married for four years to Danny. We had the classic suburban setup. Four bedrooms, a two-car garage, a golden retriever, and an HOA that fined you if your trash cans stayed out past 6 PM. We look...

My grandfather lived a long life. For the last 10 years of his life, a lot of us actually started making bets about when he’d die. It may sound macabre to some of you, but to us, it was all just a big joke. He’d laugh just like we did, even making a few bets himself to add to the fun. Ultimately, though, none of us cashed out. He lived to be 100 years old. His mind stayed young all the way to the very end, but it was still pretty devastating to watch his body become frail and brittle. For the most part, my family more celebrated his life than mourned it. I mean, it’s difficult to feel shocked when someone whose age is in the triple digits dies. We still missed him, though, of course. His stories, his laugh, his presence altogether. The thing that I missed the most, though, was hearing about his hunting trips. It became almost like a tradition, going over to visit him after he got back from a week out in the woods. He’d always make me some sweet tea and cook us up some of his famous fr...

So yeah, after twenty years of close friendship, my absolute best friend and business partner just walked away with literally everything we built together. Our suppliers, our loyal customers, our trusted employees... basically the whole dream we spent years sacrificing for. I was left with nothing but heartbreak and a ton of debt, forcing me to rebuild my life from the absolute ground up. I eventually managed to take a job as a financial auditor for a consulting firm, just quietly putting the pieces of my life back together. But five years later, fate placed me in the last position she ever expected to see me in. My firm assigned me to lead a comprehensive financial audit for the exact company that replaced my own cafe. As my team and I dove deep into her financial records, buried secrets, massive hidden debts, and shocking financial discrepancies began to surface. Turns out she had been severely cooking the books just to pull off a massive acquisition deal with a private investment f...

I found out yesterday that my roommate has been quietly fixing my cooking for the better part of a year, and I'm honestly more embarrassed than angry. He's one of those people who can throw together dinner without measuring anything. Meanwhile I need a recipe open on my phone just to make grilled cheese without getting nervous. A few months ago I started noticing that my food was actually getting pretty good. Pasta had more flavor, burgers weren't dry anymore, and even the frozen fries somehow tasted better. I figured I was finally getting the hang of cooking. Apparently I was giving myself way too much credit. I got home early from work yesterday and walked into the kitchen while my dinner was still on the stove. My roommate was standing there sprinkling paprika into the pan like it was the most normal thing in the world. He looked at me, looked at the pan, and just said, "Well... this is awkward." After laughing for about thirty seconds, he admitted he'd be...

HR called an emergency meeting because of one anonymous note… and by the end of the day three people had quit. Monday morning started like any other day. About an hour into the shift, everyone got an email that simply said: **“Mandatory meeting. Conference room. 10:00 AM.”** No explanation. When everyone walked in, HR was already there with our store manager. They looked… nervous. HR held up a folded piece of paper and said, *“Someone left this in the employee suggestion box over the weekend.”* The note wasn’t about pay. It wasn’t about scheduling. It was a list. It had names. Next to each name was a short sentence about things they had supposedly been doing at work. One person was allegedly changing their time punches. Another was taking merchandise without paying. Someone else was accused of having a relationship with a manager. Nobody knew who wrote it. HR said they weren’t accusing anyone of anything, but they had to investigate every claim. The room got awkward...

I still don’t know if I should feel guilty. I started a new job about three months ago. One of my coworkers was everyone’s favorite. Super helpful, always smiling, remembered everyone’s birthday, even brought snacks for the office. I honestly thought they were one of the nicest people I’d ever met. Last week we were assigned to work on the same project. While organizing some shared files, I noticed a folder with multiple versions of documents they had claimed to create alone. The edit history showed several coworkers—including people they constantly criticized—had actually done most of the work. I didn’t think much of it until our manager praised them during a meeting for “always carrying the team.” Without thinking, I said, “Didn’t everyone contribute to that project?” The room went completely silent. The manager opened the file history on the projector. It was obvious I was right. Now everyone is looking at my coworker differently. They haven’t spoken to me since, and some p...