Any trivial PTSD moments from childhood that you can't help but laugh at?

[aRTie02150]

I have a few, but one that stands out is when me and one of my friends found a tub of koolwhip on some stoop. My friend Miguel sang the Kool Whip jingle from the 90s ( for reference )

and stated to open the tub, there was a used condom inside of it. We screamed and he threw the tub toward the curb and the condom fluttered out and its contents poured on the sidewalk.

Everytime I see a tub of Kool whip I immediately think of the condom. It's makes me laugh, but the association will never go away. So I think it's a form of PTSD.

 

[TheGhostOfAbeVigoda]

Me and my buddy were riding bikes and there was a smushed cat in the road. I went to bunny hop over it because I'm Xtreme but my back tire landed directly on it. I felt really bad about it.

 

[Dani's Thick Legsters]

Some african kid diarrhea'd in the pool once.

I don't swim anymore.

Edit: Oh I thought you want traumatic ones

 

[TheGhostOfAbeVigoda]

Some african kid diarrhea'd in the pool once.

I don't swim anymore.

African diarrhea is the kind that kills people too.

 

[Dani's Thick Legsters]

I don't have a lot of other PTSD invoking memories. In fact, I don't have a lot of memories of my childhood at all, so I think I'm all good.

 

[guest]

I found a dead coyote pup on the side of the road in my neighborhood right across the street from our apartment. It was the first encounter with death that I can recall having (I was about five). to this day dead animals creep me the fuck out to an extent that's absurd, like shaking and feeling like there's nothing beneath my feet level of terror.

 

[The Sue Deal]

I found a dead coyote pup on the side of the road in my neighborhood right across the street from our apartment. It was the first encounter with death that I can recall having (I was about five). to this day dead animals creep me the fuck out to an extent that's absurd, like shaking and feeling like there's nothing beneath my feet level of terror.

I have the same thing but it’s not even like big animals. Like if I see road kill or something i’m fine. What creeps me out is when a lizard or frog dies on your porch and just becomes this skeleton that looks like it would turn to dust if you touched it. Shit is just creepy.

 

[ミスタースパーコル]

I had an uncle who had these aggressively ugly fish. He once (and I think it was just once) smooshed my face again the tank as a gag. Made me afraid to look at fish throughout most of childhood.

 

[Hudson Margera-Hughes]

I have a few, but one that stands out is when me and one of my friends found a tub of koolwhip on some stoop. My friend Miguel sang the Kool Whip jingle from the 90s ( for reference )

and stated to open the tub, there was a used condom inside of it. We screamed and he threw the tub toward the curb and the condom fluttered out and its contents poured on the sidewalk.

Everytime I see a tub of Kool whip I immediately think of the condom. It's makes me laugh, but the association will never go away. So I think it's a form of PTSD.

Now, that's some real reverse bag of dog shit set on fire sitting on the stoop with the ol' ding dong doorbell!

Instead of stomping it out and getting dog shit all over your shoe, it's "wait'll ya get a literal load of this!" The ol' jizzwhip gag (pun intended).

 

[The Sue Deal]

Theres this dream I used to have that terrified me but I can’t really explain it. The dream is that i’m in a completely blank white space and in front of me is a grid of black lines. As I move towards the grid it gets smaller and smaller, but thats not even an accurate description. It’s more like it would warp, imagine one of those computer generated examples of how a 4D object would look in 3D or how shit warps around the horizon of a black hole. The reason I say PTSD is because at rare times if I close my eyes and focus hard enough I can recreate that warping effect in my mind and it almost gives me vertigo. I’ve never read anyone else have an experience like this.

 

[AntSucks]

I remember my Dad beating me for some reason, and as punishment I had to go get groceries at the store. As he read out each item on his list he whacked me

"Get Eggs!" <WHACK>
"Get bread!" <WHACK>
"Get Milk!" <WHACK>

Me: "We already have Milk"
Dad (looking in the fridge): "Oh yeah"

"Don't get milk!" <WHACK>

 

[Hudson Margera-Hughes]

Sure thing. I'm sure there's a few if I really wanted to crack open that compartmentalized mind drawer of past youthful transgressions... But, off the dome my buddy and I were walking down this alley and saw some old paint cans filled with used motor oil sitting next to this garage and the dirty rotten little scoundrels we were, of course, we each grabbed one and hurled the motor oil onto the guys perfectly white two car garage door. Fawwkin really Norton'd out and motherfucked his garage door ssssssscumbag style! And then we just whipped the cans with oil all over them all Willy Nilly about and ran.

The next day we were curious what our childish destruction had wrought and we rolled through the alley again and the dude had freshly painted white over all the oil (I'm sure he was fawwkin ENNNNNNNRAGED!), but you could still see all the oil underneath it because he used white again. Fuck, that's gotta be nearly 35 years ago now and I still remember it like it was yesterday. PTSD'd out on that one. I'd be out for blood if some little bastard fucker who barely has hair on his balls did that to my garage.

 

[cachorro]

More self cringe than ptsd maybe

I was in a music class with a teacher who fucking hated me. For our final we had to write a short piece for a string quartet. I titled mine “Prayer for (Maria)” after a family member who was diagnosed with cancer that year.

When I got the graded copy back, this motherfucker wrote “Thank You” by the title. I was so confused I started asking around, turns out he had a daughter that died the year before with the same fucking name so this guy thought I was sucking up to get a better grade.

About once a year I wake up in the middle of the night with a crippling feeling like I should look this dude up and e-mail him to clear it up, even though I know it’s retarded.

 

[AntSucks]

More self cringe than ptsd maybe

I was in a music class with a teacher who fucking hated me. For our final we had to write a short piece for a string quartet. I titled mine “Prayer for (Maria)” after a family member who was diagnosed with cancer that year.

When I got the graded copy back, this motherfucker wrote “Thank You” by the title. I was so confused I started asking around, turns out he had a daughter that died the year before with the same fucking name so this guy thought I was sucking up to get a better grade.

About once a year I wake up in the middle of the night with a crippling feeling like I should look this dude up and e-mail him to clear it up, even though I know it’s retarded.

Perhaps Maria could email him from beyond the grave...?

 

[cachorro]

Perhaps Maria could email him from beyond the grave...?

The worst part is my Maria went into remission that year and is doing fucking great. So the prayers worked

 

[TheGhostOfAbeVigoda]

I had an uncle who had these aggressively ugly fish. He once (and I think it was just once) smooshed my face again the tank as a gag. Made me afraid to look at fish throughout most of childhood.

I bet they were oscars.

 

[TheGhostOfAbeVigoda]

More self cringe than ptsd maybe

I was in a music class with a teacher who fucking hated me. For our final we had to write a short piece for a string quartet. I titled mine “Prayer for (Maria)” after a family member who was diagnosed with cancer that year.

When I got the graded copy back, this motherfucker wrote “Thank You” by the title. I was so confused I started asking around, turns out he had a daughter that died the year before with the same fucking name so this guy thought I was sucking up to get a better grade.

About once a year I wake up in the middle of the night with a crippling feeling like I should look this dude up and e-mail him to clear it up, even though I know it’s retarded.

"Listen man, I don't give a fuck about your dead kid..."

 

[cachorro]

"Listen man, I don't give a fuck about your dead kid..."

I didn’t even know she was sick!

 

[TheGhostOfAbeVigoda]

It's not a PTSD thing at all but I used to think that if someone did anything against the law or just out of the ordinary that they were likely a murderous psychopath who would kill a child and I was terrified of them.

One time I went to use the public bathroom at a trailer park and there were two guys in there smoking a joint. They were laughing and in happy spirits and said hi to me. I turned around and ran as if they were like "WE'RE GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, FAGGOT!"

Another time I saw my first tranny. Old guy with big fake tits, again I ran because I assumed he wanted to kill me. All types of retards wanted to kill me. People who yelled at their dogs wanted to kill me. Most men with long hair wanted to kill me. People with tattoos wanted to kill me. My friends at school would talk about seeing their parents' bongs and shit and I'd think like "It must be insane having to live in the same house as a psycho, never knowing when your own mother is going to kill you in a drugged out rage."

 

[JoeCumiawearsDIAPERS]

I was playing in the creek behind the neighborhood with friends and saw a small snake swim out from under a rock and grab a minnow and drag it back under the rock. I was probably 6 or 7 years old.

To this day, snakes are my autistic obsession and simultaneously a phobia. I just had a nightmare about them the other night, in fact.