Dream last night I was on the staff (maybe the commander) of a large spherical space station full of people slowly going mad.

What I saw was mostly the view on a computer screen, like a video game, with colorful blips, and windows opening on data, or just things in the station's local media/internet I was subscribed to. The structure used enhanced gravity, with each deck a spherical shell around the previous, so "up" was always towards the surface, which was the outer hull.

It was the first large space colony humanity ever made, and every study on how to live in space and long-term psychology went into it. It wasn't enough.

Report after report trickled in of psychological demographics gone mad. Any survey conducted, even internet polls not meaning to be serious, showed insanely high numbers answering yes to all sorts of weird fetishes, some of them would be lethal to attempt IRL. Basically, this was a Space Station populated by Furries.

Things finally festered to a boil when some colonists decided that it would be great fun to cut a hole in the outer hull, climb up on space suits and blow themselves up, making more holes in the outer hull. I never saw this up close, just little blips on my radar running around the surface and popping.

Like some sort of mind-virus propagating through lemmings, whenever a colonist saw another doing this, they did it too, more and more joining in the new fad of being suicide bombers on the station's surface.

The only solution was to use weapons satellites orbiting the station and blast them all before they could detonate and cause more damage. Unfortunately, like bacteria, one of the "infected" would always escape, gather a group of friends and start the cycle over.

As each time the destructive fad surfaced again was bigger and worse than ever, I began to talk with the staff under me about maybe the design of the station itself was triggering this behavior, that we'd unwittingly created a Suicide Bridge. Meanwhile, internet polls showed the fetish (?!) of "Being Eaten by a Shark" topped 87%, while on Earth, public opinion of me for shooting the suicide bombers dropped ever lower.

Finally, the surface boiled over in multiple "anthills" of bombers growing faster than I could shoot them and my brain gave up on the dream's hopeless situation.