Sound is coming directly from the apartment below through the thing shown in the image. I think their ventilation is open, and I can hear TV and conversations coming straight through. I’m even considering closing it off completely. What do you think I should do?
anyone else? I mean.. it's really dumb but real. Somehow, at the days im deprived, im way too social and relaxed like my mind is unable to focus on anything especially ppl.
When I try to imagine the size of the observable universe, I don’t feel uncomfortable. But when I think that the actual universe could be hundreds of times larger than the observable universe, or maybe even truly infinite, I genuinely start to feel dizzy and strange.. Is this some kind of anxiety or obsession, or does everyone feel this way? Are there any estimates about the true size of the universe? Or could it really be infinite in the literal sense that we understand, not just mathematically or logically, but truly endless with no edge or end? If so, how?
30M, every year (10 years from age 20 to now) my blood tests showed always high triglycerides varied from 200 to 300 and low hdl 20 to 40.. and rest is all ok.
And LDL was always between 50-100 which is okay.
None of the doctors prescribed anything they always said things like "do gym" "do you have belly" "you don't need medication for this" etc..
I'm very fit (BMI 23.1)
0 alcohol
0 smoking
occasionaly running
Am I in high risk group of clogged arteries, heart attack or shit like that?
What should I do? Should I worry?
After many, many years, I smoked a pot for the first time again and experienced the first panic attack of my life. My heart rate went up to around 170, and I genuinely thought I was going to die. Now my mind seems to have learned that state, and sometimes it tries to slip back into it. But I constantly feel like I’m hitting the brakes. It’s as if my mind wants to explode, but I’m holding it tightly under control. I keep trying to calm and reassure myself, but I feel like a car driving with the handbrake pulled all the time. I know that if I experience a second one, it will never end, and I never want to go through that again. What do you think I should do? More than doctors or medication, I’m looking for real, deep advice from people who have actually lived through this..
When those miracle drugs will come out. Stronger than minoxil, finasteride.. Stop making stupid rockets, useless tech and stuff. I have a maximum of 40-50 years left to live in this world, and being bald, it's really unbelievable..
I’m afraid I’ll stutter when I talk to them, that my voice will shake, that they might make a cutting joke about me.
My mind acts as if they don’t really know me—like they see me as a flawless, Superman-like, unbreakable, tireless, utopian version of me, and so it fears even the smallest mistake.
It gives orders to my heart, speeds it up. 100.
Even though I’ve met them before, and even when I could handle their sharpest remarks, even though I’ve had moments where I felt confident and at ease with them, even though I’ve laughed with them and distracted myself, my mind still insists they will judge me and criticize me.
Adrenaline isn’t enough. 120.
Yes, dear mind, thank you. That was all I needed—turning people I laugh and feel comfortable with into enemies in my perception.
I’m trying to correct this distorted, false thought. This is only something happening in my mind; there is no such reality. Stop tormenting me. Saying “there is no danger” doesn’t convince it.
So I surrender for a moment, sit down on the ground, and wait for it to ease. 110 pulse.
Yes, I have to go to them now. I say hello despite my mind and start talking anyway. I ask questions.
Even if my mind tells me I’ll seem too confident, arrogant, excessive—I keep talking. It keeps tormenting me. I talk anyway.
No one notices anything. Everyone is chatting. We laugh, we enjoy ourselves. We have a good time.
But no—my mind says this can break at any moment. It claims I’m “performing,” and that it will fade.
I leave. I even say goodbye. My mind starts questioning everything again—whether I did the right thing, whether I did the wrong thing. The torment begins again.
But dear mind… we had a good time. They were my friends. We laughed, we enjoyed ourselves, we relaxed.
Wouldn’t it be possible for you to change now, and stop torturing me?
No, it says.
