What was the most life-altering/traumatic experience in your life?

When my grandparents died. Life has gone down hill sense.

And on a lighter note, when i shit my pants while riding a bike..heh.

This.....................


http://www.snopes.com/photos/rash.asp

This.....................


http://www.snopes.com/photos/rash.asp

I clicked on that link again, just to see it.......i just wanna squeeze'em like blackheads :yumyum:

When I had "relations" with a girl that hadn't lost her virginity yet...

She had sex with a few other guys, but supposedly none were big enough to do the job...

I was....

The blood.... My god, the blood....

Oh yeah, and she was a grandaughter of a Mafia bigwig... That could have gotten really ugly for me if I had hung around... lol

I will never click that link again. Ever.

taking a poop in a public washroom and i got splash back

Oh yeah, and she was a grandaughter of a Mafia bigwig... That could have gotten really ugly for me if I had hung around... lol



haha, good one DAK
:wiggle:

taking a poop in a public washroom and i got splash back

HAHAHAHHA

:rofl: :rofl: :rofl:

1. the cut off your own penis DIY pictures in the nekkid section
2. the first time someone sent me to tubgirl

1. the cut off your own penis DIY pictures in the nekkid section
2. the first time someone sent me to tubgirl

Visually,these were traumatic for me; but mentally, getting my wig split with a baseball bat by two guys for being at the wrong place at the wrong time was traumatic; and when I went to Camden County Jail(NJ) for 4 days was kinda life-altering.....stay outta jail kids :)

when I went to Camden County Jail(NJ) for 4 days




Whaaaaa? Omg that's horendus!


One of the most traumatic experiances I've had was just going to camden. (and getting lost. WTF is up NJ road signs lying?) Jail must have been fucking scary.

I spent a night at "Seven Locks" detention center when I had that bench warrant out for my arrest...

But that was actually fun, seeing how I was locked in a room full of potheads... :D

Several years ago at the bank I was working for we had a dude that decided to snap one day and open fire on some coworkers with a .38.

It was around lunchtime and several of us were in a makeshift conference room / lunch room that was preferred by some over the noisy cafeteria (me included). I started to unpack my lunch and go through some of my bills that were due. I noticed my phone bill was quite late, so I hurried up and wrote the check, excused my self from the room and went outside to the corner box to get it in the mail.

Just about the time I started to go back into the building- the place starting evacuating. I saw one of my co-workers (Arun) running outside and I was like "Dude? WTF is going on?" He stammered about a gunmen/hostage thing going on, on our floor. He said he thought our friend Ed was shot and killed, but didn't know for sure. He said it was like pandemonium with people rushing to get out. He was right. 7 floors of people were streaming down the emergency steps to get outside.

I ran back up to the 7th floor through this cluster-fuck (elevators were turned 'off' :rolleyes: ) and got to the 7th floor lobby. (I was just fresh out of the Army as a medic- so I felt compelled to be responder, especially seeing as though these were my friends and co-workers). I slowly opened the double doors to the wing we worked on and spied inside. Bear in mind this was the beginning era of office pods and the hundreds of partitions made any open visual contact nearly impossible.

Just as I started to 'scoot and peek', I recognized one of my co-workers motioning to me. His name was Rodney, a retired Vietnam Marine. One hell of a strapping black dude (even for being forty something ;) ) He signaled to me that it was clear move towards him. I still had to pause and ‘peek’ around partitions on my some 20yard trek. I remember saying something to myself like “Oh Shit….” When I noticed Rodney was armed with only a metal chair leg. Not good going into something like this with only guts and a piece of a chair….

Rodney immediately showed me Ed, my friend. Rodney was sitting next to his cubicle the whole time. Maybe he was protecting him or just consoling him. I dunno. Ed had been shot through the neck and face. He was still conscious but in obvious pain and bleeding. I asked him if he could acknowledge me with a wink or little nod, which he did. I asked him if he could hold his own bandage and ‘stay with us’, not pass-out. He nodded yes. I asked him where the gunman was- if he could point to his direction traveled. (See at this point we didn't know 'who' or 'how many' perps there really were). Ed motioned towards the lunchroom.

Rodney said he had heard a total of 4 shots (Ed was the first victim). I took Ed's shirt and wrapped it around his neck. He wasn't bleeding bright, so I told him just try to sit upright, keep his head elevated and keep applying pressure.. Rodney had already called for 911 at this point.

Rodney and I low crawled back and forth between the partitions, looking for any signs of movement. By this time- the 7th floor was a ghost town. We saw no one else or heard anything at all. Rodney ducked into the conference room where I had been eating lunch. It was at this moment Rodney spoke loudly and told me to get my ass in there. Two people that I was to eat lunch with were shot and lying on the floor. Another body was lying motionless close to the door.

The guy closest to the door had shot himself through the head, a .38 cal revolver laying next to him. Sadly- he chose two of the most innocent people to snuff out along with his pathetic life. Both of the other victims were female. One was a gorgeous young Iranian woman in her early 20's. Dark green eyes, flowing black hair, very petite frame. The other was my dear friend Cynthia. She was a single black mom trying to raise her 4-year old son. She was still 'breathing' but it was very shallow and labored. First I checked the Iranian girl for a pulse but found none. She was shot straight through the chest. Very little blood, oddly enough. So I moved over to Cynthia, noticing her eyes were bulging out. It first appeared like a wound channel was below the eye orbit, but I couldn't tell for sure. She started to lose breathing, so I went to start mouth-to-mouth. I tilted her head back, gave her the first series of blows and quickly realized the back of her head was completely blown off. Brain tissue and skull fragments littered my palm.

It was at this point Rodney just lost it. If he wasn't with me, I swear he would have shot the dead perp again. I told him let's get back to Ed asap and work on him. Leave the rest undisturbed for the police who were soon to arrive.

We got back to Ed and tended his wounds until the police arrived and cleared the scene. It was a good 15 minutes after they arrived before the paramedics came up to get Ed.

A lot of our co-workers were still outside. Some grief / trauma counselors arrived and allowed those who wanted to go 'back-up' to the 7th floor permission to do so and set up a crisis thing. I stuck around to help do whatever I could. Ironically- the paramedics had left and I noticed some of my co-workers were suffering from physical shock, so I wound up helping them until they could get safe transport to area hospitals (or to home).

Rodney and I didn't much care to speak with the grief counselors much and left the building around 9p.m. We went outside, only to be greeted by some reporters. Apparently a few people mentioned to them what we had done (or tried to do) earlier that day and they wanted a 'scoop'. Rodney and I looked at each other and politely declined their requests. We crossed Old Georgetown Rd. and went into Flanagan’s Irish Pub and drank ourselves silly and smoked cigarettes until closing time..

I honestly don't speak all that often about this incident. Funny- several years had past (like 10) when I ran into Rodney at some obscure location. We simply hugged each other and went for a drink, as I recall. We didn’t even talk about it.

Weird thing is, I honestly don't know why I didn't stay in that room, why I had to mail that check right there. Anyways- it goes a little deeper than this (obviously) so I’ll stop right here.

Sorry it’s long, and not well drafted- but you asked and I just now decided to tell…

Damn... just damn.

Damn, Tom.... :(

Damn, Tom.....that made my eyes a lil' watery :( ......you are a true hero

Nah. That's the kind of shit I was trained to expect. It was more reflex than anything.
The absolute hardest thing of all was when I was asked to speak about Cynthia at the memorial service held for the victims. Man.. that was the toughest thing I have EVER done in my life. Especially seeing that little boy.
She was such a sweet, sweet lady. Wasn't fair, that's for sure.

Tom = Winner. Thread can now be closed.

Tom = Winner. Thread can now be closed.

Way to ruin a thread, Tom;)

Fell asleep while driving.....hit a tree @ 70MPH (my dads chevy astrovan)The whole front right ride of the van was gone,glass cut my neck and some veins,lost hella blood,broke both of my legs,and left arm, woke up 2 days after,Spent 2 weeks in the hospital, took 3 months to recover :tear:

armed with only a metal chair leg

0.0 holy crap, I'm gonna go hug a vetran or something <---to young to buy them a beer

wow tom...thats real messed up. and word to tom=winner
the most traumatic experience in my life was wastching the Twin towers fall to the ground from my 5th floor gym window. probably 5-10 miles from the WTC.

Losin my father after watching him fight Kidney failure for 3 years (even after a "succesful" transplant) and dying at the age of 50. I have a ton of regrets, I was too young and full of myself at the time and I should have made better use of the time we had together. Alas, hindsight is 20/20. Now the only thing I have to remember him is a few pistols and our old fishin boat that Ive been workin on restoring.

damnit...im iranian as well and that really struck a nerve....but for me it was having to watch as my mom attempted suicide. I pretty much try block it out from my memory though.....