Making a new post for disturbing flashback. I seriously recommend you don’t read this — because it’s very disturbing. I don’t have any shame attached to them. Lots of guilt but I’ll get over it. These happened to other people, not to me. I just need to say them to get them out.
My uncle was a truck driver. Long story short, he was funny and awesome, but died before I was born becuse the company he worked for screwed him over. Seriously. He kept reporting that his brakes weren’t working. There’s lots of paperwork. Anyway, he crashed, and died in a fire.
Two versions of the story I hear: (1) he died instantly or fell unconscious and was burned to death (the cab caught fire), and (2) witnesses at the crash claim that he was screaming for them to help him but they could not get to him. He died of severe burns (cab caught fire for certain)
Either way is still disturbing, but obviously one more than the other. I heard this story for the first time when I was less than ten. My dad told me.
My mom (my uncle was her brother) is terrified of trucks. She’s witnessed many traumatizing-to-hear accidents. For example, seeing a truck flip over and the man inside could move anything below his neck. I told my mother not to move him. His neck was broken but he would survive if no one moved him until the EMS people braced his neck properly.
Absolutely awful. He was driving his wife somewhere. Neither of them were much above 60. A helicopter took them both away.
I also keep thinking of my cousin. This one is so, so incredibly disturbing that I honestly suggest you don’t read it. Skip to next paragraph — I just need to get this out and away from me. [] My cousin used to drive a motorcycle to work and other places. He got into a bad accident and apparently wasn’t wearing a helmet, like an idiot. (No offense to him. It’s just true.) He was going 60ish supposedly, on a highway of some kind. He crashed. The other people in the crash (multiple car collision) assumed he couldn’t have survived and were probably apprehensive to approach what should be a mangled body (at least he was wearing Kevlar jeans and jacket?) but then he starting getting up and sat up. His hands were up feeling his face. Woman realized he was alive and ran without thinking to help, called to him. Turned back and stared with permanent trauma because my cousin tried to look at her but he didn’t have a face. He was in shock, confused, bad TBI, trying to figure out what happened to his face. He is alive somehow today but missing one eye. One of them survived somehow. I have never been able to visit him. Not once. Helmets get ground to bits on the roads his skull was. I doubt he remembers me anymore.
Okay. That’s out now.
Another set of flashbacks that are bothering me so much: Trucks running over men. I don’t want to think I’ve seen this in person and I want to believe it isn’t real, so I hope my brain is just making this up and saying it will make it stop upsetting me when I see a guy changing oil in a lot or a truck drive in a place with pedestrians. My brain flashes back to (something that maybe didn’t happen) a gas station and a guy changing his oil/tire/?? under his car. Semi-Truck drives by. Confused, howling, awful screams. He’s been severed. Truck driver is panicking trying to save him. Legs are smashed and elsewhere, not nearby. Ripped. Reminds me idly of a frog I found ran over in the road once, and the thought of the dead frog with his guts coming out of his mouth makes me cry. I am thinking this is a false memory of some kind. There’s no way this happened.
Brings back photos my dad showed me of a guy getting his head shot off by a shotgun. Can’t even describe that. But it’s clear in my head, just... how do you describe something like that?
Accidentally pissing myself because of a pedophile seems like nothing, the shame of it feels distant and stupid, when all those death things start to bother me. But now I’ve got them out. They should go soon.
Accompanied with them are usually images of my other uncles dying of horribly slow diseases. Brain cancer slowly paralyzed E, but he sexually abused his children so at least I can feel slightly less bad for him. J was schizophrenic and didn’t understand he was dying. Thought occasionally that we were refusing to give him food because his-paranoid-reasons. He had a rare form of schizophrenia that cannot be treated — he woke up one day at age sixteen completely insane and no one ever got him back. I watched him starve to death when i was a teenager. On his last day he stared at nothng — his brain shut down his thinking because it was trying desperately to survive. His conscience starved to death before his body did. My grandmother’s control plan to make her children, my mom, feel bad backfired, resulted in her death.
Then I remember every animal that died. My dad was hoarding them. I had so much guilt, I couldn’t take care of them all... The cat deaths bother me.
Okay. That’s out. I’m thinking video games are triggering some of these memories? I’ll figure it out some time. But I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my day now, hopefully free of those horrible thoughts :)
