77 posts shown.
Noah Sanchez7 said:Oh sure, just tell me you're actually a screenshot, Dubravka, or Outoftheblue... and I'll nominate you as the king of all weirdos immediately! 🤣
Rachel Fox6 said:Drug dealers. 😱 ☕
I guess you guys are all using, and probably Silence too.
Laura Watson77 said:What do you even do when someone refuses to accept their diagnosis, especially after a doctor has officially diagnosed them with F20? I’m trying to figure out how to support someone who is 24, has already been hospitalized five times, and has even attempted suicide. They're currently in their first year of college and are looking at freezing their credits again for another year, all while completely denying that they have schizophrenia. How am I supposed to help someone who won't acknowledge what's actually happening?
Austin Carter6 said:So... I think this is the schizophrenia subforum, right? If so, I guess that means I can ask whatever's on my mind regarding this topic, though I'm really hoping someone might actually have an answer for me.
How does creativity actually show up in people with schizophrenia? To be more specific... just how creative are they, really? And I mean, does the creativity stem from the schizophrenia itself, or is it maybe more like the schizophrenia comes from being a creative person?
driftingorca13 said:I dealt with some mental health struggles about two years ago, falling into a deep depression due to a few things—failing my classes, drinking too much, and so on. I spent a week stuck in bed before they eventually took me to a psychiatric facility. But honestly, the craziest part happened after that. Because of the medications I was prescribed, I started feeling way too good and became incredibly hyperactive. I found myself questioning people at my university every single day (even the professors), riding the bus around aimlessly, signing up for random elective courses I didn't need... I had this constant urge to write everything down, which I actually still keep to this day... I'll post more later because I have to run.
Kenneth Peterson5 said:Post number 4, written by Anthony Fowler83, is actually just a well-meaning response to a user who—despite trying to sound polite and educated—is clearly leaning into that negative mindset, probably looking for some quick magic fix or a shortcut to bend reality to their will.
The way the moderators are tearing into Anthony Fowler83 is totally uncalled for, honestly just ugly and sad—it really goes to show how much we all differ from one another.
In the sentence
the point isn't about saying White people are better or worse than Black people; it's about highlighting that we're fundamentally different.
If the mods actually knew anything about the roots of Voodoo, they wouldn't be reacting like this—they'd see exactly what that sentence was getting at.
Just to stop all this unnecessary drama and insults moving forward, I’m dropping THIS link about Voodoo, which might help those who don't get why Voodoo isn't for Americans (or Japanese, or Chinese, or Swedes, etc.)—basically, why it isn't for anyone who isn't part of that specific clan and doesn't share the bloodline or ancestry tied to traditional Voodoo religion.
As for rowdyhawk10's comment regarding Anthony Fowler83's controversial line...
all I can say is that statement is a total fantasy, because people have never been the same and they never will be.
Again, that "controversial" remark wasn't implying White people are superior to Black people or vice versa; it was pointing out that people are diverse, with different cultures they uphold and different histories that shaped them into the individuals they are today.
Saying "White people are equal to Black people" is just as hollow as saying "all White people are the same"—which isn't true, because I am certainly not the same as moderator Endimion17 or moderator rowdyhawk10, and frankly, I'm glad about it.
So, no, White people aren't equal to Black people, nor are White people all identical to each other—no human is truly equal to another.
Attacking Anthony Fowler83 like she's some kind of racist is completely unjustified and obviously just stems from ignorance and being too quick to judge.
Besides, Anthony Fowler83's advice regarding this topic—specifically for Beat_Dadoo's question—is the only constructive thing said so far, so to add to her post, I'm providing this LINK where users can learn a bit more about those prayers.
To wrap this up, I'll touch on post Kosinica Milbo, which is pushing Reiki.
HERE is a bit more intel on Reiki—specifically check out page 4, where it really lays bare how what people call "Reiki" here in the States (and everywhere else, honestly) isn't even close to the actual thing.
Endimion17 is spot on regarding the Roman Catholic Church and their whole stance on Reiki; you can actually see the breakdown under the critiques section at the bottom of Wikipedia.
It’s a damn shame he didn't back up his claims with an actual link or some decent explanation—instead, he just went with his usual routine of insulting some random lady on the forum who, if I had to guess, was just trying to help Beat_Dadoo out.
Elizabeth Gomez11 said:Types of Forums
Online forums are essentially the logical evolution of the classic Bulletin board system, Usenet newsgroups, and various early web groups or mailing lists. While those older formats haven't entirely vanished—Google and Yahoo still host plenty of discussion groups—forums have managed to carve out a dominant niche, often becoming the primary destination for community engagement.
Broadly speaking, we can categorize them into two camps: niche-specific forums, which usually act as an extension of a specialized website, and general-interest forums that operate independently to cover a wide array of topics. In simpler terms: specialized versus generalist.
Specialized forums are typically integrated into a site dedicated to a specific subject or used to promote a particular brand or industry. You’ll see this in music, film, lifestyle, sports, and even adult interest communities. For instance, you might find a forum embedded within a movie database like www.imdb.com. There are forums tied to specific media groups, such as a platform belonging to the Black Eyed Peas, or official discussion boards hosted by major networks like http://www.cnn.com/forum/. You might also encounter niche sites like http://www.travelersexguide.com/forum catering to enthusiasts of "sex tourism." However, there are notable exceptions where the owners maintain a clear, standalone vision with content strong enough to exist without needing to cross-promote other services—think of sites like www.elitesecurity.org or www.reddit.com. Even in these cases, the sub-forums remain strictly tethered to the site's core mission. On a forum dedicated to a specific rock band, for example, you won't suddenly stumble upon a heated debate about the latest Intel processors; similarly, a forum focused on physical aesthetics isn't likely to host a workshop on crochet techniques.
General-interest forums can exist as independent entities, or they can be built out by large web portals looking to expand their reach, much like how a massive news aggregator might develop its own discussion section, such as http://www.yahoo.com/forums. It is also possible for a general forum to evolve from a once-specialized one that simply expanded its scope over time, much like how a local hobby site might grow into a broad community hub, such as www.reddit.com. Additionally, some general forums operate on a private, invitation-only basis, creating exclusive circles like http://privateclub.forumer.com.
The sub-forums within these general communities tend to follow a very predictable and almost universal structure. Today, it has become standard to find sections dedicated to romance and dating, health and wellness, various art forms, online networking, tech support, and a vast spectrum of hobbies. Essentially, they cover everything that might pique the interest of the average modern user. The underlying logic behind this wide net is quite practical: by catering to every conceivable demographic, these platforms maximize their total user base, which in turn drives up the value of their advertising space.
Elizabeth Gomez11 said:Since "internet addiction" first entered the public consciousness back in 1994, the global Network has undergone such a massive transformation that it has become increasingly magnetic to those prone to compulsive behaviors. In the early days, the very concept of digital addiction was met with intense skepticism; most people dismissed it as little more than a poorly conceived joke from an overzealous psychiatrist. However, as the Network expanded exponentially over the decades, what was once a punchline evolved into a profound phenomenon that began to challenge the social stability of Western nations. Today, this isn't just a niche concern—it is a serious subject handled by leading psychiatrists, specialized treatment clinics are being established to combat it, and the term has even found its way into the legal frameworks of various states.
The internet is practically overflowing with witty little checklists designed to help you diagnose whether you’ve become hopelessly addicted to the digital world. If you find yourself spending fifteen minutes just scrolling through your girlfriend's social media feed, if you catch yourself subconsciously brainstorming your next deep-dive search query during dinner, or if you refuse to go on vacation unless you're certain there's high-speed Wi-Fi available, you might be in trouble. It goes deeper than that: you start dreaming in code or interface layouts, you find yourself reflexively typing ".com" at the end of every sentence, and you even start doodling smiley faces in handwritten notes. It's a strange kind of modern compulsion.
When it comes to the scientific consensus, we are still playing catch-up. The noticeable lag in how we interpret this phenomenon isn't actually that surprising, considering the internet arrived almost entirely without warning, catching us all somewhat off guard. Most other major breakthroughs are preceded by decades, even centuries, of anticipation. Leonardo da Vinci was sketching helicopters, Verne was dreaming up submarines, and countless science fiction authors were busy forecasting the radio, the telephone, the television, and even jet rockets. We even saw early iterations of mobile phones envisioned in Star Trek. Yet, there wasn't a single book, film, or TV series that truly captured the essence of the internet; nobody saw its specific arrival coming. In hindsight, people have tried to retroactively label various authors as "prophets," though most were simply predicting a future where "machines talk to one another"—a concept that doesn't necessarily align with the reality of the internet. One such author, Thomas Pynchon, wrote about interconnected spores communicating globally, leading some to claim he predicted the web. But the reality remains: no one did it. At least, no one did it with the same clarity and specificity used to predict previous inventions. It stands to reason, then, that our academic understanding of this phenomenon—and the social shifts accompanying it—is trailing behind the actual technology that blindsided us.
While most experts tend to dismiss the idea of "internet addiction" as an overblown or baseless concept—arguing that it’s fundamentally impossible to be addicted to a mere tool like technology—the reality on the ground tells a different story. There are people out there who, for one reason or another, find themselves tethered to their monitors for hours on end, day after day. To be precise, I think labeling this as a "computer addiction" misses the mark entirely. It would be far more accurate to say that people become hooked on the specific types of content or activities the computer facilitates. You see individuals who spend days hunched over a desk without ever actually logging onto the web. They aren't chasing the connection itself; rather, they are compulsively driven by the act of gaming, the meticulous process of photo editing, or the immersive flow of film montage. It isn't the machine they crave, but the digital world it unlocks.
When we look at the nature of digital addiction, it’s clear that people latch onto vastly different forms of online stimulation. It isn't a monolith; rather, it's a spectrum of compulsions tailored to individual interests. You might see one person spiraling into an obsession with adult content, while another finds themselves unable to step away from the high-stakes adrenaline of competitive online gaming. Then there are those who become tethered to the constant pulse of instant messaging and chat rooms, or the restless habit of refreshing news feeds to stay on top of every headline. Even the relentless pursuit of every scrap of trivia regarding a favorite celebrity falls under this umbrella. Each path is unique, yet they all stem from that same fundamental drive to remain plugged in.
Every single one of these addictions shares a common thread: a compulsive, almost ritualistic attachment—a sense of obligation that the user feels toward satisfying their own impulse. In essence, there isn’t much of a distinction between the daily habit of downloading adult content, ripping MP3s, or obsessively searching for news about what Jennifer Lopez had for breakfast this morning. The underlying mechanism is identical. It is driven by a compulsion, an urgent perceived need to pull something from the internet. Much like any other neurotic cycle, the actual gratification of the impulse is fleeting; it provides only a momentary release of tension. That brief hit of satisfaction is secondary to the act itself—the physical and psychological process of downloading the content. Once the task is complete, the result immediately loses its value. The satisfaction evaporates, leaving behind nothing but the renewed urge to hunt for the next image, the next video, the next song, or the next scrap of trivia. It is a cycle without an endgame. There will always be new imagery and fresh data waiting to be transferred onto a hard drive, fueling an endless loop of consumption.
Perhaps we are looking at the remnants of an unfulfilled developmental stage driving a compulsion to collect, or maybe it’s just that innate childhood curiosity that pushes us to hunt for new information. Or perhaps it is simply the natural human impulse when faced with this vast, colorful world... Who can say? In any case, that isn't what we are here to dissect. I suspect the remedy for such impulses lies deep within the individual psyche, buried in the subconscious and forged during childhood. I don't believe those roots are easily unearthed, nor is there much to be gained by dwelling on them. Compulsive neurosis functions on the internet exactly as it does in the physical world.
There is a specific type of addiction to certain types of online content that might actually be solved through an understanding of this phenomenon. While it certainly involves elements of repetitive compulsion, the underlying reasons are (for the most part) universal to the human condition, rather than being tied to the unique psychological development of a single individual. We cannot claim to know why someone might compulsively download images of designer boots, naval warships, or specific tracks of music every single day, but there is one type of content whose allure we can attribute to universal traits—traits that are, therefore, universally solvable. That content is the internet forum.
There have been several different iterations of what we call forums, evolving alongside the expansion of the internet and gradually superseding one another. There is also a phenomenon closely related to forums—chat rooms—but we won't be delving into those for reasons that will become clear as we proceed.
The most widely accepted and prevalent form of the forum—what we generally mean when we use the term today—is a website, or a specific section of a site, featuring predefined subforums where members start new threads and/or contribute comments to existing discussions. Modern forums are essentially a collection of what used to be standalone message boards, integrated into a single hub; consequently, those older, independent boards are now referred to as "subforums," serving as constituent parts of a larger Forum structure.
Elizabeth Gomez11 said:Types of 'Forum Users'
The answer to what connects the members and visitors of "specialized" forums is straightforward—they are bound by a shared interest in a specific niche. Every bit of communication, every question asked, and every answer provided revolves around that central focus. It is difficult to apply the concept of addiction to this specific group, as most people visit these boards out of necessity, popping in only when they have a concrete problem to solve or a curiosity to satisfy. However, when it comes to "general interest" forums—which, let's face it, make up the vast majority of users and membership counts—the situation is the exact opposite. On the surface, there is absolutely nothing linking them together. Because these sites feature sub-forums that allow for threads covering an incredibly wide spectrum of topics, they appeal to almost anyone browsing the web. Consequently, you might encounter the broadest possible range of humanity on these boards: everyone from high-flying CEOs to the guy sleeping on a park bench, from social outcasts to the highly principled, from warriors and peacemakers to the fringe elements of society. This is perhaps the most positive aspect of the internet forum phenomenon. There isn't a single physical location in America where you would have the opportunity to meet such a diverse cross-section of people simultaneously; quite simply, those individuals would never cross paths in the real world at the same time.
The only common thread tying them together is a sense of loneliness or unfulfillment in their physical lives. This applies even to those members who, on the surface, seem to have everything figured out. There are certainly people who would take offense if you told them this, and they would likely go to great lengths to present evidence of how successful and integrated they are in the real world. But, quite frankly, it isn't true. If someone is successfully projecting their personality in reality and finding fulfillment in their needs there, why would they bother coming to a forum at all? Why would they waste precious time engaging in endless debates and chatter with strangers if they were already living a deeply rewarding life? Of course, I am making an exception for the occasional user who drops in to ask a specific question or find a quick answer and then leaves. I am talking about the permanent, daily visitors who constitute the bulk of the population on general forums. Their primary motivation for staying is an escape from a reality that fails to provide the responses they need or desire. When our real-world environment doesn't react to our presence or behavior in the way we expect, we are supposed to accept that reaction and adjust our patterns based on how we are perceived. Being unable to do that—whether due to sheer laziness or a fear of change—makes it much easier to just log on, enter a virtual space, and construct a digital persona that embodies everything we wish we could be. It isn't easy to accept who we truly are; it is much simpler to flee into a virtual world.
How does one decide to stay on a forum?
I have spent years asking this question to people on various message boards, though often they end up providing the answer themselves. There are countless forums on the internet, many of which look and feel remarkably similar. If we set aside the specialized or private, closed-off communities, the process of arriving at a forum and deciding to stick around is quite similar for most people. Forum regulars usually claim they stumbled upon the site by accident or heard about it "somewhere," and that they spent weeks or even months just lurking—watching the discussions and reading the posts—before finally deciding to jump in.
Several factors influence the decision to remain part of a community. The first is the provocative nature of the questions and the subsequent answers. While a controversial topic might not necessarily force a casual visitor to reply, it will certainly cause them to pause and read. If a surfer finds a forum where they constantly encounter topics that resonate with them, themes that spark genuine curiosity, and answers that are consistently intriguing or satisfying, it is only natural that they will return frequently. This is also precisely why forum administrators occasionally allow certain threads to persist, even when they push the boundaries of the rules or veer away from standard social norms and etiquette.
The second factor boils down to the sheer quality of the community. If a newcomer wanders onto a forum and decides the members are uninspired, abrasive, or just a bunch of immature kids, they aren’t going to stick around. It’s basic human nature—why would anyone choose to spend their time in a social circle they find dull or off-putting? On the flip side, if they find the users even remotely engaging, they’ll naturally start digging deeper into the archives.
Then there is the third factor, which is arguably the most critical when deciding whether to stay: the sense of belonging. The first two factors are merely prerequisites for someone to become a reader; they don't necessarily drive someone to participate. If the content is sharp and the people are interesting, that provides the initial spark—an invitation, if you will, to join the conversation. Without those first two elements, a user won't even attempt to engage.
For a person to truly commit to a community, they need to feel accepted. This realization usually follows their first proactive step: posting a reply. At that moment, the reaction from the existing community dictates their entire future on the site. If their contribution is met with a response that feels appropriate or welcoming, they’ll keep writing. They realize their presence hasn't gone unnoticed, which fosters a genuine sense of group identity. They see that their input actually carries weight and can influence the direction of a discussion. And if someone takes the extra step to ask them a follow-up question? That is often all the motivation needed to make a permanent home here.
Of course, we have to acknowledge that sometimes a satisfying response never comes. I’ve heard plenty of stories about this, and I’ve certainly experienced it myself. People tend to walk away and tell others how "boring" a certain site was or how much of a "drag" the users were. You could argue that some of those critiques are just a case of "sour grapes," but regardless of the truth, it isn't a tragedy. There are countless corners of the internet out there; there is a niche for everyone.
Occasionally, an outsider who feels rejected doesn't go looking for a new community; instead, they develop a stubborn desire to be accepted by the very group that turned them away. This is especially common in specialized or technical forums where there aren't many comparable alternatives online. It is quite rare for someone who had a disastrous start due to a hostile reception to stick around under the same username. Usually, those who persist are the ones who didn't cause a stir but felt a strange pull to stay. However, if someone triggers a negative reaction from the regulars and still insists on remaining part of the fold, they almost always end up registering again under a completely different handle.
Elizabeth Gomez11 said:Since "internet addiction" first entered the public consciousness back in 1994, the global Network has undergone such a massive transformation that it has become increasingly magnetic to those prone to compulsive behaviors. In the early days, the very concept of digital addiction was met with intense skepticism; most people dismissed it as little more than a poorly conceived joke from an overzealous psychiatrist. However, as the Network expanded exponentially over the decades, what was once a punchline evolved into a profound phenomenon that began to challenge the social stability of Western nations. Today, this isn't just a niche concern—it is a serious subject handled by leading psychiatrists, specialized treatment clinics are being established to combat it, and the term has even found its way into the legal frameworks of various states.
The internet is practically overflowing with witty little checklists designed to help you diagnose whether you’ve become hopelessly addicted to the digital world. If you find yourself spending fifteen minutes just scrolling through your girlfriend's social media feed, if you catch yourself subconsciously brainstorming your next deep-dive search query during dinner, or if you refuse to go on vacation unless you're certain there's high-speed Wi-Fi available, you might be in trouble. It goes deeper than that: you start dreaming in code or interface layouts, you find yourself reflexively typing ".com" at the end of every sentence, and you even start doodling smiley faces in handwritten notes. It's a strange kind of modern compulsion.
When it comes to the scientific consensus, we are still playing catch-up. The noticeable lag in how we interpret this phenomenon isn't actually that surprising, considering the internet arrived almost entirely without warning, catching us all somewhat off guard. Most other major breakthroughs are preceded by decades, even centuries, of anticipation. Leonardo da Vinci was sketching helicopters, Verne was dreaming up submarines, and countless science fiction authors were busy forecasting the radio, the telephone, the television, and even jet rockets. We even saw early iterations of mobile phones envisioned in Star Trek. Yet, there wasn't a single book, film, or TV series that truly captured the essence of the internet; nobody saw its specific arrival coming. In hindsight, people have tried to retroactively label various authors as "prophets," though most were simply predicting a future where "machines talk to one another"—a concept that doesn't necessarily align with the reality of the internet. One such author, Thomas Pynchon, wrote about interconnected spores communicating globally, leading some to claim he predicted the web. But the reality remains: no one did it. At least, no one did it with the same clarity and specificity used to predict previous inventions. It stands to reason, then, that our academic understanding of this phenomenon—and the social shifts accompanying it—is trailing behind the actual technology that blindsided us.
While most experts tend to dismiss the idea of "internet addiction" as an overblown or baseless concept—arguing that it’s fundamentally impossible to be addicted to a mere tool like technology—the reality on the ground tells a different story. There are people out there who, for one reason or another, find themselves tethered to their monitors for hours on end, day after day. To be precise, I think labeling this as a "computer addiction" misses the mark entirely. It would be far more accurate to say that people become hooked on the specific types of content or activities the computer facilitates. You see individuals who spend days hunched over a desk without ever actually logging onto the web. They aren't chasing the connection itself; rather, they are compulsively driven by the act of gaming, the meticulous process of photo editing, or the immersive flow of film montage. It isn't the machine they crave, but the digital world it unlocks.
When we look at the nature of digital addiction, it’s clear that people latch onto vastly different forms of online stimulation. It isn't a monolith; rather, it's a spectrum of compulsions tailored to individual interests. You might see one person spiraling into an obsession with adult content, while another finds themselves unable to step away from the high-stakes adrenaline of competitive online gaming. Then there are those who become tethered to the constant pulse of instant messaging and chat rooms, or the restless habit of refreshing news feeds to stay on top of every headline. Even the relentless pursuit of every scrap of trivia regarding a favorite celebrity falls under this umbrella. Each path is unique, yet they all stem from that same fundamental drive to remain plugged in.
Every single one of these addictions shares a common thread: a compulsive, almost ritualistic attachment—a sense of obligation that the user feels toward satisfying their own impulse. In essence, there isn’t much of a distinction between the daily habit of downloading adult content, ripping MP3s, or obsessively searching for news about what Jennifer Lopez had for breakfast this morning. The underlying mechanism is identical. It is driven by a compulsion, an urgent perceived need to pull something from the internet. Much like any other neurotic cycle, the actual gratification of the impulse is fleeting; it provides only a momentary release of tension. That brief hit of satisfaction is secondary to the act itself—the physical and psychological process of downloading the content. Once the task is complete, the result immediately loses its value. The satisfaction evaporates, leaving behind nothing but the renewed urge to hunt for the next image, the next video, the next song, or the next scrap of trivia. It is a cycle without an endgame. There will always be new imagery and fresh data waiting to be transferred onto a hard drive, fueling an endless loop of consumption.
Perhaps we are looking at the remnants of an unfulfilled developmental stage driving a compulsion to collect, or maybe it’s just that innate childhood curiosity that pushes us to hunt for new information. Or perhaps it is simply the natural human impulse when faced with this vast, colorful world... Who can say? In any case, that isn't what we are here to dissect. I suspect the remedy for such impulses lies deep within the individual psyche, buried in the subconscious and forged during childhood. I don't believe those roots are easily unearthed, nor is there much to be gained by dwelling on them. Compulsive neurosis functions on the internet exactly as it does in the physical world.
There is a specific type of addiction to certain types of online content that might actually be solved through an understanding of this phenomenon. While it certainly involves elements of repetitive compulsion, the underlying reasons are (for the most part) universal to the human condition, rather than being tied to the unique psychological development of a single individual. We cannot claim to know why someone might compulsively download images of designer boots, naval warships, or specific tracks of music every single day, but there is one type of content whose allure we can attribute to universal traits—traits that are, therefore, universally solvable. That content is the internet forum.
There have been several different iterations of what we call forums, evolving alongside the expansion of the internet and gradually superseding one another. There is also a phenomenon closely related to forums—chat rooms—but we won't be delving into those for reasons that will become clear as we proceed.
The most widely accepted and prevalent form of the forum—what we generally mean when we use the term today—is a website, or a specific section of a site, featuring predefined subforums where members start new threads and/or contribute comments to existing discussions. Modern forums are essentially a collection of what used to be standalone message boards, integrated into a single hub; consequently, those older, independent boards are now referred to as "subforums," serving as constituent parts of a larger Forum structure.