Comments by "Widdekuu91" (@Widdekuu91) on "ABC News" channel.

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  13. Same here! I was 19 when I had a severe panic-attack and got nauseous. The teacher refused to open the lock for me, telling me to vomit in the bin. When I did, he laughed; 'Ah, you weren't lying then?' He witnessed me vomiting and then opened the door. I went to the toilets, fell to the floor, unable to move or hear anything, just whooshing noises. The teacher went and followed me, with the whole classroom and then mocked me in front of the class (I don't recall what, because I only heard parts of it, the rest is blurry) but he basically treated it like a circus-show. When I started barfing, he announced it joyfully "Oohhhhh there she goes again! Look!" and yelled at me; 'Make sure to clean that toilet, we're not picking up after you!' After I sat back, dazed and scared, he took my pulse and it was too weak to feel. He replied (similar to the video) 'Oh, well, you must be dead. You have no pulse.' I didn't understand and the class laughed. I just sat there, staring at him, not getting it and thinking it was my hearing again. When he told me to get up, I tried, but my knees didn't work. I pulled himself up on the sink and barfed again. He yelled; 'Not in the sink! That is difficult to clean! To the toilets, NOW!' I crawled towards the toilet, hearing the laughter behind me and the whole classroom in the hallway started talking about me, loudly, saying I was disgusting for vomiting. Near the end, I took his hand and got up again. I pinched his hand slightly when I did this and he said; 'Oh, you are overreacting, dramaqueen.' I stood up, got dizzy, leaned on his hand and he yanked his arm away and said; 'I'm not dealing with this.' He very angrily walked off and I started hyperventilating. It took another hours for me to calm down, laying underneath a desk on the floor, accompanied by a random schoolworker.
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  22. +NataschaO (Warning, slightly related story, turning into ex-hate-story as it goes, haha) I was 15 kilo's underweight (52 kilos) when I met my ex. It was due to my job that required me to walk upstairs all day long, carry things around and I biked in the weekends. I can assure you I ate enough, sometimes more than 8 sandwiches + two full plates of dinner. I am very tall, I had a superflat stomach and I was 19 when we got together. When I got fired from my very-demanding job I sat at home for about 3 months and gained the 10 kilo's back. My stomach was still flat, just not as flat as before.  My ex was twice my (new) weight at that moment, heavily obese. He kept saying; 'It doesn't matter hun, I love you the way you are' and I'd go; 'I never said I was unhappy with gaining the weight back, I can finally wear my pants without a belt.'  So thats when he started slowly losing weight, going from extremely obese to just very very obese. His doctors were worried and something near his stomach even ripped due to the pressure of the weight. Thats when I graduated and started practicing living on my own. So I gained 2 kilo's. Only 2. You'd think that it wouldn't make a difference, but he kept on touching my stomach and sighing. And saying; Youknow. I love you the way you are.' and a few seconds after; Remember that flat tummy you had before? That was cute. I'm not asking you to get it flat though. But if you want me to help you with a schedule or something...' One time he even had the balls to criticize me for eating a banana, while hé was eating a big sandwich with liver and onions. He said; 'My sandwich is my lunch. You already had lunch, you're just adding calories now, bananas are weightgainers.'  I can't believe I was with that guy for so long. Anyway, I felt the story was kindof related.
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  37. Wait a second, the fact that she threatened with lawsuits (which is just words btw, you can't take that personal, she had to wait 2 weeks for her hernia-treatment, she was clearly just aggravated, professionals can handle that) does not condone the fact that they were judging her naked body and calling her fat. Do you realize what happens once someone does that? If you, Sheena, are wrapping a gift for my aunt. You're taking care, despite the fact you don't know her. Then I whisper to you that I actually hate my aunt, but I have to give her the gift anyway. I then tell you my aunt is ugly and lazy and has cheated on my uncle many times. (All untrue bytheway) Then what would you do with the gift that you're wrapping? Can you seriously claim that the gift will still look good? Or will you accidently rip the paper a bit more and not care to fix it, 'forget' to put the bow on it, put it down rougly, hoping it'll break? Because thát is what will happen. Now imagine your body instead of the gift. With every word the co-worker says, he/she risks her collegues being irresponsible/distracted and making mistakes. YOU cánt have that in a hospital! It should not matter what you do! Even if you come in, whining and screaming that you hate doctors and you don't want to go into surgery, they have to be adults, examine the situation, respond to it correctly and by which I mean, feel sorry for you & try to help you. I've had different kids to deal with at my work. Special needs, kids with all kinds of problems at home. If I took every time they screamed at me, personal, I'd hate them. But I don't. I am an adult and I understand when something is meant to hurt me, or when they are scared/sad and are reacting to that. And I know how to comfort them and make them apologize for it afterwards, without using my 'status' as a teacher or complaining about them to my collegues. Because that's for immature d*ckheads. I rest my case.
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