People are Confessing the Secrets They Will Take to the Grave

I'm not even totally sure how to say this... but basically for some reason I was born with incredibly sensitive testicles, seemingly way more sensitive than most boys. Because of this I had an extreme fear of ever getting my testicles checked at the doctor, and I would always just run out of the doctor's office and hide in parking lots, or just about anywhere...I would literally do anything to avoid getting checked.

Well eventually that had to come to an end, and my mom had to literally have me restrained so that I could get checked. The first time it happened was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. My mom literally just walked into my room one day and told me I was going to the doctor to get my testicles checked. I remember, weirdly enough, hiding under my bed naked thinking they couldn't possibly take me to the doctor if I was naked. But my mom literally had two of her friends help her with this like mission to get me checked... and her and one of my friends actually dragged me out from under the bed and dressed me. I decided to just go limp, hoping they would just give up, but they didn't. They carried me downstairs and put me into a car, and my mom's two friend sat on either side of me, just holding my hands and trying to keep me still. I couldn't even believe it was seriously happening... I thought there was no way it was really going to happen honestly.

We eventually pulled up to this huge building and my mom and her friends kept an eye on me, escorting me into the building, into an elevator, and up into a pretty typical hallway full of doctor's offices. And eventually we went into a fairly typical doctor's office. One of her friends stayed out in the hallway, and the other sat down next to me in a chair in the waiting room, which was pretty small. It was fucking awful...I overheard my mom talking to the admin lady as she was signing me in saying literally, "My son's name is X, and he's here to get his testicles checked today." And it was like too much for me... I bolted for the door and ran down the hallway, but at the end of it was my mom's other friend who was just around the corner by the elevator, waiting for me. She grabbed me, and my mom's other friend, who had followed me caught up to us, and they dragged me back into the doctor's office and made me sit down and told me to behave. I was petrified. I tried to sit there... my mom also eventually took a seat by me.

I heard other boys being called in, and all I could think about was how fucking horrible it was going to be for the doctor to check my testicles... was she actually going to touch them? I literally couldn't imagine it happening, it seemed worse than the worst thing I had ever imagined. I somehow felt like there was no way my mom would seriously let anyone do something that horrible to me. I thought she would just let me go home. But no. The door to the back opened, and a nurse called my name out... and I was beyond terrified. A primal urge not to go back there kicked in. I snapped my hand violently out of my mom's friend's who was holding it and dove under the hollow frame wooden chair I was sitting on and held on to it for dear life. I was literally begging my mom not to make me get checked, and screaming that I wouldn't go back to the exam room and crying...

But that did not dissuade them at all. My mom seemed to just get upset that I was being so completely ridiculous in front of people. And her other friend came into the office from the hallway, and the three of them managed to pry me out from the chair... I literally remember feeling them peeling my fingers off of the chair one by one while my mom pulled me out and crying even harder because I knew I couldn't hold on.

So they literally carried me back into the exam room, and wasted almost no time. I was struggling wildly, and crying. But they pinned me down on the exam table immediately, and I kind of calmed down a little bit. I remember I just kept thinking there was no way my mom would do this to me... I literally tried to beg her through sobs not to let the doctor touch my testicles... but she wouldn't even respond. I just barely heard her talking to the doctor about the check when the doctor came in, and she was saying how they better just get it over with.

I couldn't believe my ears. I was almost like petrified from fear... and then... my mom pulled my underwear down. I started to squirm and cry... and the doctor just appeared over me, and I knew...I knew she was going to touch my testicles, and I started crying and kicking really hard, but they just held me down really tightly, and when the doctor finally touched my testicles my whole body spasmed from how intense it was. It was exactly as awful and utterly horrible as I had imagined it... I just spasmed uncontrollably from it while they held me down, crying wildly... and then it was all over, and my mom pulled me underwear up, and the doctor told me I was a good boy...and that was it...I was free to go back out to the waiting room, as if everything was just normal.

I felt so beyond fucked up though. I never even knew what to feel really. I was just completely silent for days. My mom was super pissed at me for being so uncooperative. I contemplated killing myself for being so sensitive and not being able to cooperate like a good boy. I hated myself for it. Eventually when I learned girls didn't have testicles it was always my largest childhood wish that I had been a girl... hah but was the the very least of it. At the same time, I also seriously wondered how my mom could have let someone do that to me. How could she not have cared at all about how intensely sensitive I was? I knew she told me that it was something all boys had to get done... but... it just felt like she was supposed to protect me from things like that, not be the one pulling my underwear down. I literally couldn't even believe that my mom had made the appointment for me to get checked for a long time. I imagined a fake narrative where she was forced by the doctor to do it somehow... I guess I kind of stopped believing that basically by the next time I had to get checked, which was nearly as bad. But nothing was really as horrible as the first time because of how simply terrifying the entire ordeal was. My mom never made the mistake of telling me before we were actually at the doctor's that I would be getting a testicle check done...hah...

I still struggle wildly with a sense of whether my mother seriously needed to make me get checked. In order to cope with my feelings of hating myself for being so sensitive I used to torture myself by touching my testicles, and trying to make myself get used to it, causing me to spasm until I blacked out from it. Eventually I had my first orgasm basically just from touching them, way before I knew what orgasms were.

I still have flashbacks and massive anxiety attacks regularly about the checks I had to get, especially the first one. And the only way I've found to calm myself down is by just trying to role-play through it in my mind and still doing the same torturing of myself, even though after doing that for so long I've actually managed to make myself much less sensitive than I was as a kid. It's developed into sort of a sexual fetish I guess in some sense, but it's the only thing that helps calm me down and get through it.

I guess I still hate myself for being so sensitive, and so affected by what is logically just a normal checkup that all boys get done though. But at the same time, I just really wonder what my mother was thinking. I can't even talk to her about it since she's 100% closed off to it. I think about what she must've been thinking about still. And I wish I knew. I wish I could talk to a mother about it for some reason, but it just seems way too crazy. I feel completely alone, like I was traumatized by something that is completely unacceptable to be traumatized by... so I guess I'll basically never tell anyone about this other than Reddit now. And it feels insanely weird even typing it out to anonymous people... fuck... I am truly fucked up hah =/

Username: TesticleCheckThrwawy

A well-placed snowball that ruined 2 families. (Long story). So happy I can finally get this off my chest. Back as a kid I enjoyed creating mischief all around the place. During winters our town was filled with snow and everyone from primary to high school (even adults) was out playing snowball fight n stuff.
I was 12 at the time and a loner so instead of trying to make friends I was hiding in trees and bushes and threw random snowballs at people. My goal was to create mischief and make my victims think that someone else blasted them, multiplying the chaos and their willingness to take vengeance.

I remember myself losing my breath laughing while watching my victims throwing snowballs with anger at unsuspected friends or classmates, who considered them responsible for that. Now, I was good at this. I needed to become an expert for this to work.

You need to hit people with snowballs at places that would fill them with anger. And what's more infuriating than getting hit in the back of the neck with a soft snowball that dissolves and fall through your shirt making you wet and cold? But straight shots would probably betray my cover. However, curved shots from above are totally safe if you manage to calculate correctly the distance, speed and strength. Even though I wasn't always hitting their neck, I would often hit the head or face which is a jackpot.

Now to the story. Some high-schoolers in my town were playing snowball fight. I managed to hide in bushes and throw a few random snowballs without being noticed, creating more chaos and anger. I even threw at some random passersby who joined the fight afterwards.

Pure bliss. I sneaked away and on my way home happy for my achievements, when I saw 2 high-schoolers that kinda bullied me were on the opposite sides of a car playing snowball fight (still doesn't justify what happened next) and I thought to myself I coulde score some more for the day. So I took position behind another vehicle and I noticed they were missing each other's face on purpose, only getting snowballs on their jackets, which makes sense because one of them was wearing glasses, I guess.

Therefore, all I had to do was hit the face of the glasses-guy and hell would break lose. I formed my soft yet round and solid snowball and I waited for the right time. At one point both of them would duck to create new snowballs and since I was able to watch them from their cover-spots I had clear view to shoot. While both were down I stood and threw my curved shot high enough (like a grenade) and it landed on the glasses-guy's face just as he stood up. Bullseye. (did I mention I was really good at this?)

So his glasses fell from his snow-blasted face and as he stumbled he crushed them. The other guy was laughing clueless and I was about to burst into laughter when he exclaimed "a**hole, we agreed no face" and he charged the other guy and smacked his ear with a snowball so hard that I heard a thumb. The other guy fell on the ground and started crying in agony. I was scared shitless at this point. I left the scene without much noise as people started gathering around them.

Turns out the guy who got ear-smacked broke something in the side of his head that affected his stability so he needed aid to walk, making him de facto decapacitated and he also got a terrible ear infection (I don't know how) that screwed him up real good for the whole semester.

Meanwhile his brother found the glasses-guy and broke his jaw, so hard, he needed a surgery. Both of their parents sued each other and they went on court several times. After that the glasses-guy's father hit on purpose the other guy's aunt who was the family's lawyer.

The glasses-guy was sent to juvenile for attempted murder and then moved to prison, ruining his life forever. The other guy is kind of handicapped and lives with his parents.

To this day they still don't know what really happened. Especially the handicapped guy, has now clue as to why his friend attacked him out of literally nowhere. I think the glasses-guy has regretted his actions, but I fear for my very life if he finds out that I was responsible for all of this. Even though both of them were idiots they never deserved this. And I didn't want this to get that far, just wanted to have fun. I stopped this "hobby" afterwards.

Username: Chewmass

I’m a covert schizoid. All of my friends, family, and girlfriend think that I love them and would do anything for them to be safe. In all reality, I’m completely disconnected from my feelings towards them, even the simplest of interactions with friends, family, and my girlfriend feel fake.

In my head, I don’t see myself as a human, but more as a robot. Birthdays feel like a hassle to deal with. Celebrations feel fake. Anytime I do something “selfless”, “heroic”, or “caring” is all just a mask I wear. I learned to act like that from people that I know and tv characters that friends adored.

Any tv shows that I’ve watched, I’ll study the main characters and antagonist to learn little traits from to appear more human. I wish I could connect with them so I could be more human, but I physically can’t. It would destroy the feelings and relationships that I have built from the ground up.

The people I know would be devastated to know that the person they fell in love with, raised as a child, admired as an older brother, or counted on as a great friend doesn’t actually feel anything for them and if they die or left my life I wouldn’t be indifferent of my feelings.

I’ve tried multiple times to feel something for someone, I’ve tried to develop feelings for a friend’s sister but couldn’t do it when I figured that she had feelings for me.

The only one that’s actually made me feel something genuine and unforgettable is my girlfriend, somehow after years of friendship, she confesses to having feelings for me, and I figured that this would be the perfect time to see if I could feel something for her too.

I told her that I felt the same, and overtime I began to experience true love.

Of course, I wasn’t sure what that actually felt like, so I asked my parents what it was like when they first started dating, and I was surprised to know what it felt like too.

My friends and family noticed that I changed dramatically and acted completely different. All thanks to the love of my life did I realize that I could feel something genuine.

For those who don’t know how to interpret this, here is an example:

Imagine yourself in a movie theater, you’re the only one there. The movie that’s playing is everything that your eyes see. You can’t change anything, from where you’re seated because it’s just movie, the catch is that the movie never stops rolling and your stuck seeing a husk of yourself that isn’t real, interact with people that know you as is this charming and funny person.

Username: Paragon_Of_Honor

This is old enough that I'm sure no one will see it, but I really want to write this out. I've had the same imaginary friend since I was eight years old, a somewhat-popular video game character.

As I grew older, he slowly morphed into having almost nothing to do with the character, as he aged along with me and took on his own personality. At age 23 we're still best bros. He puts on a uniform and goes to work with me, I talk to him whenever I'm alone or in the car, and when I'm especially bored I'll even play board games with him. Though all that on its own honestly isn't all that bad. I imagine lots of functional adults have imaginary friends and just don't talk about them.

What I'll never tell anyone is what happened during my stay in the ER last month. I was hospitalized for suicidal behavior, and when I made the mistake of trying to leave I was essentially put in solitary confinement. I pretty much only saw people when a different nurse would come in every few hours to take my blood pressure for no reason whatsoever.

With no windows or clocks, I'd think a day had passed only to find out from a nurse it had only been a couple of hours. Some sick fuck must have thought it would be hilarious to feed me oatmeal and yogurt when it was supposedly too dangerous to give me a spoon, so I had to lap everything up like a dog.

Sleeping was impossible with the rock-hard bed and the sounds of strangers yelling and crying, so that combined with having nothing to do literally drove me crazy. It only made me want to die even more than I already had when I was admitted. My only comfort came from "cuddling" an imaginary friend that wasn't there.

After begging the only nurse at that hospital with an ounce of compassion for a pencil and paper, she brought back a stack of printer paper with six used, shitty dollar-store crayons. I spent an hour or two sharpening them with my fingernails for no reason until I finally started to doze off and on for the first time in three days.

And that's when I saw him. Actually saw him. And heard and felt him. He pulled up the dinner tray with the crayons and paper and suggested we draw some pictures together. I didn't feel like it, but he thought that maybe drawing some bright, cute things would help us to convince the nurses that it was safe to let me out.

So we both spent Lord knows how long drawing Pokemon and Disney characters, which eventually took some of the edge off. He even drew an adorable self-portrait. Finally feeling just a tiny bit more relaxed, I lay down again with him up against me.

Next thing I knew, he was invisible again and my mom came through the door. Apparently I was finally allowed to have visitors again. I realized I'd been asleep and that what happened the night before must have been a dream. At least, that's what I thought until I saw all the stack of crayon drawings still sitting on the food tray.... including ones HE had drawn.

I know I must have been the one to draw those, but it genuinely freaks me out that I hallucinated while awake. Thankfully even in that state, I had the good sense not to tell anyone what I saw. I have no doubt they would have locked me up in that horrible place for even longer. My mom asked if she could keep them, and knowing how upset she was about the whole mess I said that was fine. When I eventually was discharged I came home to find them all on the fridge.

Every time he and I go to the kitchen to grab something to eat, I look at that crayon drawing of my oldest and dearest friend and wonder why and how that happened. I wish I could try to get answers from someone, but I know it isn't worth the risk when I've already been labelled as crazy.

Username: itwbhtrd

I’m a digital people watcher. I like to exploit human trust, break into vulnerable computers, and root them. Why? Because I like to lurk. I like to collect information. None of it is malicious, none of it is criminal or done for a profit. It's a misunderstood hobby.

I’ve always been a “computer geek”, and knew my way around computers pretty easily, and that includes breaking and “hacking” (although I hate to use that word). I played around with systems for quite some time, but if I were to point to where it all started, it would be about 5 years ago, during ninth grade.

We were working on a group project, and while were were exchanging word docs and ppts, I though it would be funny to send a corrupted file with a stage trojan to my best friend. It worked, and that was where the obsession began. I initially meant it as a joke. I would mess around a bit, freak him out, and then clean up and be done. But there was an innate sense of satisfaction out of the whole thing.

The desktop showed me how organize he was. His browser history, interesting and often scandalous (if you’re gonna watch porn, at least delete the history). Keylogging all his passwords was a bit too easy. The treasure trove came with his Facebook account. At that time, while relatively introvert, I was part of a good group of friends that I’ve known from 7+ years (elementary all the way to bginning of high school).

The beginning of highschool saw a lot of friendships being strained. Meeting new people, hating old friends, and damn, the rumors were oftentime ridiculous. Anyways, while I was dumpking keylogs result, I noticed that my friend was messaging and talking a lot with this guy, and they were talking about a lot of juicy rumors. So, I decided to keep an access point in place.

Eventually, I wanted to learn and know more, and began several spear phishing campaigns that eventually lead me to compromising nearly all of my friends’ computers, and a relatively large portion of other people at highschool. At one time, I nearly had a usable botnet. To keep things discreet, I only commanded the computers of people that I was more interested in. One of the things that I learned, was that teens are trusting, and stupid when it comes to computers.

Most of what I did was information gathering. I loved to organize and collect passwords and hashes. I saw that as a “trophy” of sorts. I was more concern with “learning” all the intimates and secret stuff that other teens like me did, rather than gaining admin access. This freed up a lot of time for explorations, and I loved it. I’ll admit it, there this almost perverted feeling I get everything I read a “confidential” message. But the intimacy was so satisfying.

Even now, I don’t know why exactly I do it. I’m pretty sure it’s pathological, and would seem disgusting to many. II have some OCD tendencies, so maye that contributed. It’s not sexual in nature.

I just like to learn about people. I like to imagine that I’m in their shoes, and I just want to know more about them. In real life, I’m often very sensitive to the way people act and talk, and when someone acts “weird” or there’s a rumor that’s going on, I get a sick sense of pleasure being the only one who knew the truth.

Some of the things I learned was pretty amazing during the four years I obsessed over it. One of the straightest person I know, turned out to be gay (his parents are asian). Two girls were having near-lesbian exchanges. One of my friend lied about getting accepted to a certain college. Another was rejected to all the college he applied to. There’s a lot more, but you’d need context to know why it’s funny.

The one commonality everyone had? Their porn times. At our school, we have late start Wednesday. I would say 99% of boys stayed up late on Tuesday masturbating, no kidding. Oh, and their porn was weird too.

Username: [deleted]

Very late to this party but thought maybe I'd still share. Using Tor sitting at Starbucks, so I figure this is as safe a forum as any to get this off my chest. I'm likely not going to answer a bunch of questions for reasons that will become obvious.

I killed a man. I was 24 years old and on one of my first business trips off on my own in an unfamiliar city. My boss had meetings and a client dinner in another city that day, and wasn't going to fly in until the next morning, and so I had to entertain myself that night.

I didn't like the idea of sitting in my room alone, and so I found a bar near my hotel that looked like it had decent food as well. I figured I'd go, watch some of the Stanley Cup finals, and grab a beer or two and some dinner.

All went well, and I actually wound up making conversation with a pretty lively crowd at the bar. Lots of other people there on there own and a good bar tender who encouraged interaction. One guy in particular was super friendly and we wound up hitting it off, trading rounds of beers, and shooting the shit until closing time. He was close to my age and in a similar field, with plans to start business school the following fall.

Come 2:00, actually a few minutes before if I remember right, it's closing time and we're getting the boot. He asks where I'm staying, and he tells me that's on the way to his place and so we start walking that direction together. I'm 3 sheets to the wind at this point, and having trouble walking upright. He's a little better off but we're both stumbling and wind up walking arm in arm to support one another.

Along the way back to the hotel, we had to walk across an overpass crossing a freeway that ran through downtown, but was excavated below street level.

As we're halfway across the overpass, he stops and points out to show me the new arena that had just opened in the distance, just down the freeway. Then he stepped in front of me, grabbed my shoulder, and before I could figure out what was going on he pulled me into him and put his lips on mine.

I was shocked and pushed him off of me, not meaning to be rough but to stop him so that I could let him know that I fucked up and gave him the wrong idea. But in our condition I didn't realize how hard I pushed, or where we were, and I pushed him much to hard. So much so that he lost his balance and continued backwards over the side of the rail.

I was in shock and looked over the railing. He'd avoided traffic when he fell, but landed in a drainage culvert separating the two directions and set another 5 feet lower in the ground. I didn't know what to do or how to explain the situation, and so I left.

I figured he'd make his way out and flag down help, or that someone would have seen him fall and call 911. I was a wreck the next day but managed to get through my day and not hearing anything more about it, assumed that everything had somehow worked out.

Two days later, there was an article in the local paper (I found it online as I was already home by then) about his body being discovered. A few days after that, reports came out that he'd had a BAC of over .15 and that the assumption was he'd fallen while drunk.

Nothing further ever came of it, and I've never shared this story with anyone. And it doesn't feel nearly as good as I thought it would typing it out here. It just brings the pictures back to my head. But so it is. Anyway, that's my secret. Yay.

Username: got_away_with_murder

Let me preface this by saying in no way do I think what I did/do is a good thing, nor do I endorse it, just saying that for me it works. I already know most people will think I'm a piece of shit.

For a huge portion of our relationship my wife developed a lot of physical problems that has seriously affected her quality of life, and she is now unable to work. For all that time I've worked 2 jobs to keep us afloat. I got little sleep, and my whole life revolved around my wife's illnesses. I had to squeeze in trips to the hospital, trips to visit at the hospital, misc errands, etc. Pretty much, I was married, but doing everything like a single dad.

It's my duty and responsibility but over that time, so much anger and resentment built up, because I felt like I was taken advantage of. here I was shaving off years of my life by only sleeping a couple hours every day, and falling asleep while driving all the time...and I could never get anything as simple as a meal made for me, or clean clothes waiting for me in the closet.

Our relationship suffered as well due to that anger and resentment. Once the closest of friends we found ourselves fighting ALL the time, and I was so just exhausted with just trying to be a good person and man, by taking care of mine, and feeling unthanked for it all.

So when I felt we were finally at the point where divorce was imminent...I wanted to do something really shitty to make up for all the good that never came my way, for all the good I did. I know its stupid reasoning, but thats where my head was at. Fuck my wife, and fuck her for turning my life into this, and this is the ultimate way I could get back at her. I saw escorts.

And what I experienced is why I really wish (safe and non human trafficked, and fully consensual) prostitution should be legal. This is not a rationalization, or trying to make myself feel better, but I saw three escorts, and after each time I saw one, I felt like a giant load was off my shoulders.

After the third and final one...I couldnt feel that anger and resentment anymore. It's like taking this thing for myself...something that no one will know or take from me, was enough to sort of give me a new lease on life. I know its fake and an act, but they treated me like how I felt I needed to be treated at home. i was doted on...we talked as much as we fucked...they were interested in MY life..I wasnt only living solely for one person for an hour of my life..

It sounds silly to say, but it fixed something inside of me. It made me feel masculine again, and with that feeling came the feeling that a man doesn't let his family fall apart.

With that anger and resentment gone, it was possible for me to see clearly and it led to us having really deep talks which led to fixing our relationship. That "release" (EMOTIONAL as well as physical :p) help sort of put everything back in perspective. And my marriage is stronger now than it has ever been.

BUT I know this wouldnt be the story for everyone...but I think we as modern people dont put enough weight to our basic animalistic needs...so much so that it starts to cloud our minds. I havent seen an escort since, but I don't regret doing it, as shitty as it sounds. How can I regret something that led to great things?

But I know my wife will never understand, and if I told her, it would be an automatic divorce for her..so I keep it to myself. Someone once told me: "If you're a big man enough to cheat....you're man enough to keep your mouth shut about it. All telling your wife will do is make YOU feel better, while it destroys HER world" And I found a lot of truth in that.

Username: pewpew_youredead

I almost killed someone over a lie. Not a complete secret, as three other people were involved, but it’s not been made public in over 20 years so probably counts?

When I was in first year of university I met a girl and we started hanging out. I had moved far from home for school, played on the football team, kinda a full reinvention of myself. I dated one girl through high school that came from a religious background and other than fooling around a bit we were never intimate.

After my first month of so at school a girl that lived in our residence had a friend over one night, we hit it off and spent the night together. Dated a bit, and I ended up finding out that she’s also with another dude; a competitive cheerleader. Turns out he lives on the same floor as a couple of guys on the team. Basically outlined to her that I was looking for a monogamous relationship, especially as I was looking at this guy every day. After a couple more weeks I just made the decision for her and wished her the best.

About two months later she calls me balling that she needs to see me, I assume that what’s his face broke up with her. She tells me that he raped her, violently, when she tried to break up with him. I spend the night over at her place, which was super odd as she was in a two bed single dorm room and her roommate was right there, trying to convince her to report it. She won’t. Have to promise to keep it secret.

Next day, I go home and sleep. Wake up livid, call a friend of mine on the football team and ask him to prop the back door to their residence open. I went over to his residence, found him in his common room and proceed to beat him senseless which culminated into an attempt to throw him out of a open third story window, which would have succeeded had his belt/pantline not get caught up on the radiator. He ends up spending a few days in hospital, fractured ribs, and dislocated jaw. Go home, pack my stuff assuming I’m going to get charged and thrown out of school.

Nothing. I figure he didn’t tell police who beat him up since he was afraid of the rape coming out. They end up getting back together the following month; which obviously makes me flip the fuck out. She tells me she had to otherwise he’d go to the cops about me. I tell her that I’ll just go myself and admit it and she does this big ‘I have to protect you’ thing that just played me; leaving me with ‘it hurts too much to see you, so please stay away’.

I’m sitting for next several months thinking this girl is stuck in a horrible situation because something I did. I start drinking, get kicked off the football team, stop showing up at the awesome bouncer/doorman job I’ve got across the street from school that paid for the majority of my bills. Went from academic scholarship to academic probation in one term.

The next year I get a job as a personal trainer at a gym downtown while going to school, barely attending classes. Just a huge fuckup. Strike up a friendship with the girl working the Smoothie/Juice bar. One night we’re at a staff party and we get to talking, and I find out the real story.

Juice bar girl was a local and had started seeing cheerleader dude I beat up and he had broken up with the girl who had told me she was raped. She had lied to me about trying to break up with him and the rape was a complete fabrication. She then threatened/convinced him that if he didn’t stay with her and clam up I’d kill him.

I track rape-story girl down through a mutual friend and she acts like the entire thing is no big deal, that she was only sorry I had been ‘misinformed’. I don’t track down the guy as he’s quit school and gone back home (I have since reached out, apologized and explained my side; he’s never replied). It’s 18 months later and I basically fu**ed multiple lives up before I know the truth.

I couldn’t deal, I transferred schools and finished my undergrad somewhere else. I at least got back on track and didn’t flunk out. But that was an eye opener about how naïve and ignorant I was and how easily manipulated I could be. But I’m fairly sure my first real sexual experience was with a legitimate psychopath.

Username: Graigori

This is a crazy one. Its a secret to other 2 people but we don't talk about it much. We were eating at a new wing restaurant that just opened and we were excited to eat there. We order our food and were having a good time.

About 10 minutes after we had a few beers, this guy across the restaurant throws a glass at a waitresses feet (But misses) and starts shouting. In awe we watch and he runs into the bathroom with his gf. They looked like major meth heads.

So at the table we all agreed if he comes out and starts trouble we would have to step in being the only young/strong people capable of dealing with him as most of the people in the restaurant were old/female. So we wait. He comes out and appears to be leaving peacefully as the manager had already called the police. As hes walking out an older man says to him "You need some respect".

With that, the ghetto fuck punched a 60+ man in the face. In a blink of an eye I got up and football tackled this guy into the stools at the bar knocking over like 6 stools and 2 tables. I get him restained and start to bring him out of the restaurant for the police, but in doing so his cracked out GF starts punching me in the neck/back. I go to block and he gets loose and starts swinging.

I lift him up by the neck with both hands against the window while hes still hitting me. I got fed up and completely slammed this dude through this older couples table which was 2 small tables pushed together so he flew right through sending beer, nachos and wings everywhere.

With people screaming I beat this guy senseless, his eyebrow piercing ripped out and hes full of blood.

This is when I heard his girlfriend scream "HES ONLY GOT ONE ARM LET HIM GO, FOR FUCK SAKES LET HIM GO". I had just beat up a crippled man. In the whole situation he had a leather coat on and it looked like he had 2 arms.

I immediately let him go and got up, and then with his one arm he picked up a chair above his head and my friend cranked him sending him down. The crack couple, quickly ran out.

Cops showed up and took our info and I was let go because I was defending myself and others, and tried to get him out.

The cop asked me "Do you want to press charges?" and I said "What would I get, his other arm?" we all laughed and the night went on but at a different restaurant because this restaurant was literally trashed. My friends and I don't talk about it, because we beat up a one armed man, even if he deserved it.

People tend to not like people who beat up a handicap person.

Username: ThatWhiteFozzy

My brother and I are locked in an eternal struggle that keeps looping through time. I keep destroying "the world as we know it" and he keeps inventing time travel in the 2050s or 2080s in an attempt to stop me. This usually results in me going back in time to condition my younger self into being a destroyer of worlds.

This current time around, some permutations I can't recall from previous loops happened, such as encountering the ghost of my future self, being approached by The Devil's Daughter and taken on a spirit form/planar trip to Hell to meet her dad when I was 6 or 7, finding out that my dad has ancestral memories of the planet humans migrated to Earth from, being told by my mom that she's the love child of JFK and Marilyn Monroe etc.

In 1996 or '97, I was was given the red pill/blue pill choice by two high school friends who insisted that I should take the red pill before being told what The Matrix is. I badgered them into telling me first and they mentioned shit like clone farms in China and AI simulations. Then they gave me the blue pill and disappeared right in front of my eyes. Two or three years later when a movie called The Matrix came out, I was severely freaked the fuck out.

Back in 2004 I took a road journey spirit quest that had me traveling the east coast in an attempt to find a door into Mid World or End World so that I could do my part to save the Dark Tower and thus all of creation. When a chance to die in a car wreck, which could have resulted in being reborn into/escaping to another universe presented itself, I chickened out and lived, which had me feeling like a coward. After getting back home and reading the newly released book 7 of the Dark Tower saga by Stephen King, I kept falling asleep and having dreams that felt more real than most dreams, including:

* one where I reset a switch that shocked me into awakening agony
* being in a black, empty void surrounded dark entities that I could smell and hear, but not see, who's voices were kind of staticy/electric

* a dream where I was back in my car, sleeping at a rest stop and tried to wake up, only to be pushed back into the dream by Walter O'Sullivan from Silent Hill 4. The car had turned into a glass and steel cage and I knew if i got pushed pushed back in after a second attempt I'd be unable to get out, so I made a maximum effort push into the waking, only to have Walter O'Dim/O'Sullivan ready and pushing harder to keep me in the dream until I rolled off the couch with a whimper and people in the house asked what the loud shriek was all about

* being in warehouse surrounded by dead robots
* wandering through a mishmash/hodgepodge of multiple houses and apartments I'd lived in after getting into an argument with Anne Coulter, who was dating my dad and pissing him off because Leonard Nimoy (who was young and in his prime) took my side and called Anne some very choice insulting words and Dad couldn't bring himself to say Nimoy was wrong.

* Eventually my wandering brought me to an empty cabin full of benches and then Otis Firefly from House of 1000 Corpses came in with a friend's kid tied and gagged, dropped her on the ground like a present and winked at me

None of these are the darkest secrets that could destroy my life, but none of what I've written are lies. Despite the impossibility of most of these things being literally and physically true experiences, they are all valid memories that dwell within my mind as "things that happened to me" despite knowing that they probably couldn't really happen.

Delusional madness runs in my family on both sides. A deep history for my mom's side and my dad being the first in his line due to malaria giving him a super high fever and problems with the medications he ended up taking after retiring and have a rare neurological ailment required creative experimentation of a trial and error nature to find the right mix of drugs and keep refining/evolving/reworking his combined meds as his body adapted to the new meds and kept pushing to revert to lack of mobility as his new biological status quo.

That's the big part of what could ruin my life. The delusional, easy to break away from reality condition of my mind.

Then there's the simple, mundane things that happened in life that could easily wreck things. Especially stuff that my Dad told me about his time in the Navy, that seems true, but would cause a shitstorm of problems if I ever stated them publicly.

Username: GreggoryBasore

I'm late to the party and this will definitely get buried, but I really wanna tell this story and whatever:

When I was in college, my roommates and friends and I created an ["Indian Wrestling" league] (http://www.ehow.com/how_4472997_indian-wrestle.html) and we would hold "events" whenever we got super drunk together.

We designated a championship belt and we held a tournament one night to crown the first champion. Now, I don't mean to brag, but I am very, VERY good at Indian Wrestling and I eventually became our league's first champion. I would go on to lose a few matches and I swapped the belt with a couple competitors once or twice, but there was a stretch of time when I was champion for six months; completely unbeatable. I was the Brock Lesnar of Indian Wrestling.

That was until my brother made an appearance at one of our parties...

It was decided that our evening's main event would be brother v. brother, best of three falls, winner take all. I was a little nervous, but I was very confident I'd keep the belt. I was the best, how could I lose?

I lost in the third round. The crowd went wild! There were beer baths. The league was happy that the unbeatable had finally been beaten. It gave the other competitors hope that they would one day taste gold!

Suddenly my brother turned heel on the crowd and decided that he would be taking the belt home with him; that he wasn't going to be as active a champion as the belt's predecessor had once been; that our league would essentially be without a title until he decided to return. We were nervous as we would no longer have our top prize. What would our federation do? It would de-value the title to crown another champion! We were amiss.

For the majority of that summer we would continue our league. We would hold tournaments and award trophies to the winners, but they did not hold as much weight as our beloved belt. As I had just lost the championship I was in line for a rematch...but the only question was "when?"

Out of the blue my brother reappeared at a party one hot summer night, and we decided it was time. He was reluctant at first, but our league rules demanded that he defend it or be stripped. Much like myself a few months prior, he felt confident that he could beat me. It was decided again that we would compete in a best of three falls match.

The ref began the countdown...my brother won the first fall. The crowd gasped as I rolled back into position. I was very nervous as he was quite the powerful wrestler. The ref began the countdown for the second fall. I braced myself and put all my weight into the push and WON THE FALL! The crowd cheered. I had a chance. It all came down to this last fall.

However, the previous fall had taken all of my energy from me. The third call was quickly approaching as the ref counted down from three. We locked legs and I pushed with all my might, but we were stalled in the air; deadlocked. I could feel that he was successfully pushing me the other way; he was winning the fall. In an act of desperation I put my hand against the corner of our living room couch and USED IT TO PUSH HIM BACK THE OTHER WAY. I CHEATED to win back the belt and NO ONE SAW ME DO IT. I WAS STUNNED. I HAD GOTTEN AWAY WITH IT. THE CROWD WENT WILD! OUR BELT WAS HOME! I GOT HAMMERED THAT NIGHT AND PARTIED WITH MY BELT, AND I FELT GUILTY AS ALL HELL.

Username: snowshoeBBQ

One summer when I was 12 my parents sent me to a Jewish summer camp (I am a Jew) in Colorado and I fucking hated it. My parents had recently divorced and I stress ate a lot and gained like 35 pounds in a year. I was depressed and did not want to be at this surprisingly hardcore camp where we went mountain climbing in the Rocky Mountains, which was cool, but I am from Tennessee and basically had a month of altitude sickness. We had to swim across a lake and I was newly fat.

The mountain climbing trip was in the pouring rain camping for 4 days (imagine setting up and taking down a tent and camping equipment in the mountains in terrible rain for 4 days). And my Bar Mitzvah was coming up so I had a tape recorder with the Cantor’s Torah tropes that I had to memorize so I would do a good job. It was a lot.

Now, I’m not completely sure that this contributed to what eventually happened, but my family did not keep Kosher. We are what is known as “reformed” Jews, which basically means that we we’re not strict like Orthodox Jews. My diet was the opposite of Kosher. I mixed milk with meat, bacon was pretty much my favorite food, I ate shellfish all the time, the works.

Anyway, (I think) that because the strict kosher preparation of food at the summer camp was so different from my usual diet, all of the food that they had been giving me had been giving me terrible diarrhea for a month. Which is awful when you’re at the mercy of an 18 year old camp counselor who has to have the whole group together.

One night they surprised us with a camping trip which was supposed to be a treat. They drove us 2 hours outside of camp to a place where the stars were supposed to be beautiful. And it was. But then for dinner we ate “hobo packs”. Which is a package of tinfoil filled with ground beef and veggies like potatoes cooked over a campfire grill.

As we were all sitting around the campfire I knew what was coming. I didn’t even have time to tell anyone where I was going. I ran into the woods and squatted down right as an eruption emerged from inside of me. It sprayed all over my calves, my ankles, my socks, my shoes. I thought about just running into the woods never to be seen again.

But I stripped off my underwear, my socks, and cleaned myself off as best I could. But my underwear was absolutely destroyed. Crying, I threw it as hard as I could into the woods. Immediately I was gripped with terror when it caught on a tree branch, and I realized that my mom had written my name on the tag of each pair.

There was no way I could reach it. They would be looking for me soon. I had to leave it there. Somewhere in Colorado was a pair of shitty underwear with my name on it hanging off of a tree.

I returned to the campfire where everyone was having fun experiencing such incredible shame. I considered telling the truth, but lied and told them that I had thrown up on myself and might have food poisoning. Maybe they’ll believe that the poop all over my legs that they were smelling was really vomit. Somehow that was better.

They ended up radioing one of the other counselors to come pick me up, again a 2 hour drive. And I had to ride in a truck while I smelled of camp food shit, and my legs were covered in it, trying to keep up the illusion of being sick.

I eventually took a shower and went to sleep, but the idea of one of my fellow campers, or anyone else, finding my shitty underwear on that tree branch, as well as the shame of that car ride, has haunted me to this day.

Username: garlic_naaaannn

Throwaway because I Do mind telling the internet but I think I need to share it; I cheated on my girlfriend. I'm not proud of it, I'm certainly not happy about it and I feel guilty as fuck all the time about what happened.

Context for whoever cares: It wasn't a sex thing, that never even happened, but I fell in love with someone else. My girlfriend is very socially anxious, which I don't blame on her, and as I was tryng to introduce her to my friends on my birthday (By the time we were aready 3 years together) we had some Huge issues. We were on the very edge of breaking up, both of us were suffering a lot.

During my semester (which preceded my birthday in May) at university I noticed a girl that kept staring at me, and thought she was pretty. Didn't think much of it at the time but once the semester was over (which coincided almost perfectly with the aforementioned dark times in my relationship) she came to talk to me via facebook.

It was amazing, instant chemistry between us, and I felt very comfortable talking to her, which led me to confide in her about the state of my relationship. She told me quite a few of the things I always wanted to hear and never did; that she liked me for who I was, that I didn't need to change, that I'd be a great boyfriend, that she'd like to know my friends and spend time with us all; all things that up until that day were reserved for very wishful daydreaming of where my current relationship would go

My girlfriend is a very nice and polite person, and treats me well most of the time, but her anxiety can get her very defensive, to the point that she pulls a lot of shit from our past and starts blaming me for every fault in our relationship. I don't exactly think she's wrong, maybe I'm to blame for a lot of them, but it's a really taxing exercise to have that weaponized against me at every corner.

Things got harsher in my relationship and since me and the other girl studied together we started getting lunch together; which turned into hugging and then kissing, and by then I was adamant I had to finish my relationship for good and be with her. Then, she told me she also had a boyfriend. But told me she'd break up with him and we'd be together. Ok. Red flag but by then who was I to judge her, you know?

Then, guilt hit her, was hitting me as well, she told me she'd rather we just be friends, I was ok with that, and then she disappeared. I had truly fallen in love with her, and she was gone out of nowhere. Left me with nothing but guilt and fucked up feelings

But the real problem is, I couldn't go through with breaking up after that was all over and things started getting better between me and my girlfriend. I sort of just promised myself I'd try do give her a good life and hope that could redeem me in some way, but I know it'll never be right. I'll feel guilty for the rest of my life.

I've been thinking about it, and even though we're happy together now, I feel like trash for lying to her like that. I can't tell her the truth and I won't. There will be other reasons for us to break up (Even though I don't want to, I feel like I love her despite all this) that won't fuck her ability to trust people forever

And bear in mind, this whole story is told from my perspective so it might be biased towards justifying what I did, and I know it can't be justified. It was my fuckup, my caving in to a kind of blind and "pure" "love" that I had never felt before that lead to all of this.

Tl;dr: My relationship was an absolute horror for a while, another girl started giving me a kind of attention I missed, fell in love, promised I'd end my relationship to be with her, we had lunch together and kissed a few times, found out this girl had a boyfriend herself, we drifted apart, couldn't go through with breaking up, relationship got better, I feel like shit and will never tell anyone

Username: Throwitawaybigboyo

When I was 20 I worked at Walmart. One day I ended up meeting this really pretty woman who was in our store to do a product sample. We ended up talking and hit it off as much as one can when you're at work but during the conversation, we hit the topic of age. I lowballed and said she was 25-26 but she giggled and said higher. I finally landed on 30 and she said it was close enough but she was 31. I laughed and said I needed to see some ID so she busted out her driver's license and sure enough she was 31.

We talked for the rest of the day and finally her shift ended just as I went to lunch. She was wearing this big bulky chef's jacket and as we walked toward the front doors, she took it off. She had tattoos everywhere and had a...well....really nice body. She asked me if I was working tomorrow (A Friday) and I said yes. She winked and said she'd see me then.

Friday comes and she shows up and it's busy so we don't really get to talk as often. But finally we end up going for a break together near the end of my shift and she asks if I want to hang out after. She asks for my address

This presented a bit of a problem. I had just been kicked out of my house by my parents and I was living with a friend and his wife. I texted him up and he said his wife was planning to go to her parents for the weekend and that he'd be home around midnight so the house is mine. I give her the address and we go back to work. My shift ends and I go home.

Now at this point I'm nervous but she finally shows up and comes in, we sit on the couch in the living room and watch a movie. But it was never about the movie. We start making out and things get pretty hot and heavy and before I know it, I'm inside her without a condom. But my reptile brain is so horny and so desperately craving release that I just go with it.

It was probably the best sex I've ever had but when I came close to arriving at my destination, I told her and she said "just cum in me" and my 20 year old brain just went with it.

A bunch of times. In fact, a whole weekend full of me cumming in her. I never really thought much of it. In fact she encouraged a lot of debauchery on my part. I video taped some of it at her insistence (in her words, how else would I brag to my friends I scored a MILF). She sent me nude photos for the weekend, when she went back to my Walmart for the Saturday and Sunday she had to work(I had it off) she would text me all kinds of dirty things, and how my coworkers were hitting on her but she just wanted my dick.

It was a wild weekend that ended with a good fuck in the back of her jeep and her driving me home before disappearing into the night. As time went on, I forgot about it. A few months later I moved out from my friends house, and ended up getting a new job.

Well roughly 11-12 months later, my best friend who still worked as a manager at Walmart texted me saying she was looking for me. A few hours later, my friend whom I lived with texted me saying she was looking for me(and that his wife found out then and there that I'd basically fucked a woman in her house for a whole weekend)

The catch?. She had a baby with her when she'd gone to my friend's house to find me. She only knew my first name and I'd changed phone providers and numbers since then so she had no way to contact me other than approaching where we'd met and where we'd go to fuck.

This was 10 years ago. I have a 10 year old kid out there. Only the friend I lived with whom I no longer talk to, and now Reddit, know about.

Username: Guerrin_TR

Throw away because I'm seriously taking this to my grave. When I was 17 my best friend and I were some serious fucks. I don't mean we were assholes to people or anything, we just did a lot of really risky and stupid shit. Like getting into random fights with assholes at parties, doing way too many drugs at once, lighting m80s and holding em for a bit before throwing em, that kinda shit.

Shit that honestly would only hurt us if it went south. Looking back, I think it was mostly because we were both pretty suicidal but didn't have the guts to just off ourselves. Had just enough people that cared to not wanna hurt em.

I think the funniest thing about us, and probably what brought us together, was the fact that we both had a hero complex for sure. Both of us had been suspended 8 or 9 times for fighting in school, but it was mostly just beating the shit out of bullies.

I can't recall a time either of us ever just picked a fight for no reason, but maybe just hindsight making everything look golden. Anyways I digress, back to the fucked up stuff I suppose.

Basically we got into a fight with the wrong guys at a party. I got my ass beat, but my buddy saved the day and my face.

My buddy pulls me up off the ground and the next thing I know my ears ringing and my best fucking friend in the whole world is leaning on me so hard that he pushes me into a wall and we both fall over.

I feel something wet on my shirt and see blood fucking everywhere. One of the kids had pulled a gun and shot him three times the side.

The party cleared fast as fuck and I remember someone yelling about calling 911. But I knew my friend wasn't gonna make it and so did he. Still I was screaming for help and crying my eyes out. My friend was calm though.

Way too calm honestly, I think it was probably from the booze and painkillers we snorted earlier. I remember he looked me in the eyes and just said "I'm sorry you're gonna have to live with this, but I'm okay. It's what I want."

It was choppy and gaspy as hell but those were his last words. After that he lost consciousness and just went. There was nothing beautiful or serene about it. My best friend died in front of me and fucking apologized.

I told everyone who asked he just said some shit like tell so and so I love em. I don't know why but that shit just hurts too bad to tell anyone and I don't want too ruin the image of a happy go lucky, nice guy that everyone had of my friend.

Username: nevertellthroaway92

I'm in a long term relationship, not married, but \~6 years. Lets call boyfriend's friend Allen. Despite being boyfriend's bestie, I did not get to know Allen until I finished grad school earlier this year. Over this summer myself, boyfriend, and Allen hung out several times among mutual friends, often at music festivals.

It is during this time that I realized I had a crush on Allen, which was a first for me in a longterm relationship. I figured the crush would fizzle out over time, but it has not (probably because our friend groups hang out every few weeks). Allen and I share a ton of common interests, hobbies, enjoy the same music, and have surprisingly become close friends because of the frequency our mutual friend group hangs out.

Allen and I do not hang out outside of the mutual friend group. I get the impression that Allen also has a crush on me, but is politely not acting on it because of his friendship with my boyfriend. Recently during a drunk gathering Allen and I splintered off to grab food in a long line where we discussed openly how much we appreciated our newfound friendship. Allen told me that he was 'thankful to have me in his life' and that I was quickly becoming one of his good friends simply because we so easily get along and have fun together. At one point he actually told me 'we will always have each other'.

Admittedly, I reciprocated a lot of this, we hugged several times during this conversation. Nothing out of line happened, but how we looked at eachother felt so much more than just a simple friendship. This event occurred a month ago and we've hung out another 2-3 times since. During all events we continue to always gravitate towards each other, make each other laugh, and overall have a great time.

One of my girlfriends seems to be one of the few people who have picked up on Allen and I's newfound chemistry (?). She actually went so far to say to both of us (when we were quite inebriated) that she was basically going to be our chaperone and not leave us alone.

Allen and I both looked at each other, but did not say anything. My boyfriend appears to be happy that I'm hitting it off so well with his best friend and this has not yet been a source of drama, but I feel like it will be in the future.

I think I am entering the area of emotionally cheating and I'm not sure what to do. I'm lost. I know for a fact I really, really like Allen. If I did not have my boyfriend I'm certain we would already have gone on a date. I still love my boyfriend, but if I'm being honest I think our relationship has moved, sadly, to moreso 'roommates' in the past year. This has coincided with me finishing school and having a strong desire to be social and make up for lost time in school.

I'm sad that I feel this way about someone else during a relationship and am wondering if I should just cut everything off while there is no baggage.

I'm not even sure what I would be hoping for if I did this. Given our mutual friends, I'm sure if Allen and I started hanging out this would cause significant tension between the group and us, and my boyfriend. This makes me sad, because if I'm being honest, I've NEVER felt this strongly about another human.

I honestly feel like Allen could be a special person to me. And I've never been more certain that someone (ie Allen) also seems to feel the chemistry between us.

Do I talk to Allen? Do I breakup my relationship? Do I try to fix what might be wrong in my relationship? Do I burn everything I've built to this point?

Does Allen possibly not even feel the same way about me? I am 28 years young and this crush is killing me. Please help, provide any advice you can, tell me I'm a terrible person, I don't know what to do....

Username: TossCan2019

My parents and younger sister went out of town for two days when I was a senior in highschool, and I stayed behind because I didn't want to go to whatever event they were going too. My dad had a mustang convertible so I thought "why not take it out for a ride on this nice sunny day". I brought one of my friends with me. We spent the day driving around and we headed home as the sun starting setting.

It was getting colder so we put the top back up and carried on. Next thing I know the front right corner of the convertible top flies back. We pull over and one of the little pieces that holds it down is just gone. My friend had to hold the corner down for the rest of the ride home. So we get back to my house and my car is parked awkwardly in the driveway.

I'm trying to pull into the garage without hitting my car when I hear a loud "thwack". 2003 mustangs have this thing on the door that kind of looks like a decorative vent? Idk. But I had run into the side of the house with that piece and it was stuck. I started to panic so I hit the gas and next thing I know there's a 5 inch scrape down the side of the car and I've ripped the frame odd the side of the garage.

At this point my friend has his head in his hands and I'm freaking out. I call another friend to come help. We had to jack the car up and move it over to get off the side of the wall. He goes "we can buff this scrape out" and I'm thinking "perfect".

Well whatever he used ended up just taking off the clear coat of the car and the entire spot he's cleaned is now matte. I was speechless. I have now scraped the car, made it matte, broke the convertible top, and ripped the siding off the garage.

My friend comes over the next day to help with the garage frame I've managed to mangle. His dad does house repairs so he's "going to try and do what his dad does".

He smokes a blunt and gets to work, which has me more stressed because my parents are very anti-weed and now the garage smells like we hot boxed the place.

I take the car to the dealership and explain what happened. They tell me they can get a new part ordered but it will be a week before it comes in. I'm visibly getting more stressed and I think it made the guy uncomfortable that I was 2 seconds from crying because he goes "uhh maybe it fell down the siding, let's look". So he peels back the weather strip i think it was? And boom there's the part.

So I take the car to get washed and drive home, the garage is looking better considering it was ripped off by a car. My parents will be home in about 3 hours at this point. So I park the car inside and leave the garage open.

My dad never found out. The only thing he said was "did you drive my car? The seat was moved" and I told him I just took the car to be washed.

Something straight out of a movie, to this day idk if he actually knows something else is up. Or if he genuinely just noticed the seat was moved and that was it.

Username: tayisaway

I grew up with nothing and by nothing I mean. It wasn’t until last year I slept in a bed that was a real mattress and mine.

I remember the one and only time I stole. It was in the middle of no where in the country. Before moving to another large city. I was going to be 11. No family. The situation was bad and when I mean back. I mean image an animal put in a crate bad.

I was outside playing, of course with animals as no one was allowed to speak or address me. I seen the ice cream truck coming down the road and all the children got ice creams. I heard a kid get a “ free one “ for his birthday. So I lied and was given a free popsicle. For days and weeks I grieved. Because I lied and lied means that I stole something. To this day I have large passionate hate against those who lie steal and cheat to gain and harm others. So I decided to do a few jobs around the neighborhood and I made a couple bucks in all I believe it was 11 or $12.

Since it was out in the country that ice cream truck didn’t come very often but I waited and waited for him to come back. On the day that he finally came back I went over to his truck totally ashamed of myself after all of the children had left.

I went with my head down and I went up to the ice cream man and I apologize. I said “ Excuse me sir, a few weeks ago you gave me and popsicle because I lied and said that it was my birthday.

I’m sorry it wasn’t really my birthday I just wanted a popsicle like the other children but I did not have money”. The ice cream man stayed quite looking at me the whole time.

At that moment I reach into my pocket sweaty hands and all knowing I needed that money. It was my duty to do the right thing. As I would do whatever it takes to not become like the individuals who enjoyed torturing me.

As I was pulling the money out of my pocket and handing it to the ice cream man I said “I’m sorry sir I lied and I stole from you. I made enough money to cover the cost of the popsicle and some more. I promise I will never asked to buy another ice cream from you again.“.

The ice cream man took the money. Went to sit in his seat and drove off. Never saying a word.

I seen him come back down the street a few times. But I was so ashamed of myself for being a lair and thief. I would get so sad when I heard the music and hid so he couldn’t see me again.

To this day. I personally go into dollar stores and if I see a child looking at a toy that’s only a buck. Knowing Mommy can’t afford it. I either drop money or put the money on the floor where the child can see it. One time a little kid looked at me and I said “ tell your dad it’s from Jesus”.
I’ll never forget the excitement.

Username: Iwillhavejustice

For Context: Years ago I was a very heavy liquor drinker, problematically so. Christmas is a very big deal in my family and people come from all over the country to come to my parents house. Addiction/alcoholism is also a very big problem in my family.

On Christmas eve I went to a CVS drive-through to pick up some medication. I dropped off my prescription and decided to go to my local watering hole for a few drinks while it was being prepared. They called early so I went back and I picked up my meds (adderall) but I had time to kill so I decided to go back to the bar and have a few more. It being Christmas Eve, everyone was buying shots and I was drinking VERY hard.

I finally decided to go home knowing I was wasted. My twenty-something y/o routine had devolved into taking an adderall to sober up (I was a bartender at the time) when I needed to keep going. So at some point I instinctively took a pill and decided to drive home (I know how bad that is and I am not trying to trigger anyone).

On my way home I passed by the same CVS and was so drunk that I thought I still needed to pick up my meds. I went through the same drive-through and asked the same pharmacist for my pick-up. They awkwardly looked at me, said to give them a minute, and walked away.

Turns out I really needed a nap.

My next memory is being awoken by a bunch of cops who had been called by the employee because I passed out in the drive-through. They had me pull into a parking space and get out of the car. At this point the meds are kicking and I realize the gravity of the situation. I'm about to go to jail the night before Christmas and my ENTIRE family is going to know about it.

I was ashamed of myself but I couldn't bear to think how heartbroken my mom would be. I know I wreaked of liquor and there was no way I wasn't getting arrested. There were 11 cops there basically in a circle around me while I did the sobriety test.

After the test they kind of huddled up and talked amongst themselves. The main officer finally came back and said I didn't seem too drunk but he could smell alcohol on me. He said he wasn't going to arrest me but he couldn't let me drive. I was so relieved I was trying not to cry.

One of the deputies drove me home and tore into me about the dangers of what I did and how lucky I was that the officer in charge was letting me go.

I've never told anyone that story and it is one of the shittiest things I've ever done and gotten away with. It hurts my stomach to even write this but I gotta let it out.

This was a decade ago and I did find help. Be safe everyone.

Username: [deleted]

Almost dying at 14-15, only me and my cousin(who I had too get) knows. So I had taken a 2 hour trip from my place to Auckland with my cousin and brother to buy an ounce of weed. No weed brought :( Stayed at the dealers place for the night and next day.

We were also intoxicated over the duration of all of this. Next day dealers having a small drink up, I’m horcey’d(drunk) as a mofo and everyone but the dealer and my cousin leave to buy takeaways.

We come back about 20 mins later and the house is smashed up, I’m half drunk and idek wtf is happening but it’s a huge fight, everyone’s fighting even my brother who’s trying to stop the commotion and I’m the only one in the car(half brain dead from intoxication).

Things happen and I’m eating the food while the doors of the cars locked. suddenly the dealer and my brothers in the car with me and we drove off down the road and I don’t sober up but I have good balance if you know what I mean xD So my brother and dealer tell me to go get my cousin who’s either in the house smashed up or next door.

I get too the house and everything smashed, no ones there and it feels like a movie and I’m excited as hell. Tables, couches and beds flipped, windows smashed, very large objects from inside thrown outside. Yea so my cousin isn’t in there, he was next door, I peeped thru the window to see if he was and yup he was having a good time;).

So I knock on the door, people with bats come out and they are looking for my brother and the dealer, my cousin comes out aswell and now we’re walking with 5-7 people to find my brothers car, luckily we went the opposite way where my bros car was and they found an identical one exactly ours.

I’m whispering in my cousins ear “we’re gonna run” but I’m drunk and literally filled with adrenaline and I got triggered when they were saying they’re gonna beat up my brother and smash his car.

I get angry and say I’m going to beat them up, and start yelling out gang slurs such as ao, otara, sieg f’n hell(no I thought it was cool idk why).

my cousin thankfully stopped me when I snatched a bat off of them but one of them had a gun and almost shot me in the head, literally a couple cm and I would’ve had a hole in my head, I hit the gun out of his hand(heard his bones crunch) and me and my cousin ran our hardest down the street, I was extremely pissed and hit a furniture removing van and set the alarm off cos I couldn’t fight them🤦🏻‍♂️

We got in the van and told them too drive right now(they had the car already running when we got there). When me and my cousin sobered up we realised that I could have died and I still don’t know if I did the wrong thing for almost fighting them.

I was 14 or 15 at the time and this was 2-3 years ago when I used to play gta v on my ps4 24/7. I only went because I wanted to be cool yaknow, I was young. Well I don’t know if I regret it but I am haunted to the fact that I could have died :/

Username: Pohatu_fromtaheke

I shit all over my bestfriend floor. You know the kind that isnt really diarrhea but still looks soft and a little wet? Yeah. That. All over her bathroom floor.

Ok, so I was spending the night at her house. I was there for like 2 days so of course I had to shower, plus we were going to church. I was in the shower and I hadt he strongest urge to shit. Like I had to squeeze my but so tight I couldn't even stand straight.

Then I feel a little slipping out. So I finish up the shower and immediately got on the toilot. I let loose. I filled the whole freaking toilot.

Like, it was full. When I was looking around for toilot paper, I couldn't find any. Nor could I find paper towels. What in the world was I going to do? I got up and looked in their closet. Nothing. Going back to the toilot I felt more coming. I couldn't stop it. It was in a pile on the floor.

Then I fell. I had to clean the shit up and myself because we were going to church. I found a sock. I think it was her brothers. Anyway, I clean up the floor the best I can then take the towel I used after the shower to wipe up anything else on the floor. I had to get rid of the sock.

I saw a cooler by the toilot so I put the sock between the wall and the cooler. I then put my clothes on and spray myself with perfume. I walked out like nothing happened but I still had to shit.

So, she walked into the bathroom to finish getting ready for church and she said "umm serenity, why is the floor brown?" I said my feet we dirty and since they were wet they made the floor dirty looking. Then I jokingly said "no hannah, I didnt poop on your floor"

So, her everyone's ready and when we're in the car going to chruch, I smell shit. I know they can smell it too. So we get to church and I see my family because we were all going to meet ther and then go to a restaurant.

So after 3 hours of sitting and standing, sitting and standing, chruch is over. Then once we're at the restaurant and we're all seated my mom, being my mom, says something smells like poop.

I feel a wave of heat. Like, is she onto me? Then, my friends mom said someone proably stepped in dog poo beacause they have dogs at their house. Nice save lol. Before we get up to get our food, since it's a buffet, I go to the bathroom so wipe my ass because I have shit all over me.

Then, once I'm done, I get my food like nothing happened. Of course I still smell like shit, but at least I feel a little more clean. The first thing I do when I get home is take a shower and change clothes. So... yeah.

Ok, I know what yall are thinking.
*Why didnt you just ask for toilot paper?
Well, was there doing her makeup and I consider that personal stuff and I have trouble opening up about stuff like that.
*Why did you hold it in for so long?
I dont like to poop at other peoples house.

Username: sdaugherty5611

My brother is "MrPillowsuit". You may recognize that name from tiktok, but probably not. Aside from being abusive to our entire family for as long as we were children, both he and my mom assisted one another in something that I will never not be able to look passed.

Around December 2019, maybe January 2020, my mom and brother displaced an old man from his home and put him into a shed to live in while my brother occupied his entire home by himself so he could work on becoming a TikTok star. My brother was living in the backhouse on my mothers property. At first, and I believe this to be true, the old man swapped out his home for the backhouse.

Behind the backhouse are two storage sheds. For whatever reason, he liked to sit inside one. However, I'd see the lights on at night in the backhouse, so I'm almost certain he was going inside at night.

Then the pandemic happened. I stayed with my girlfriend throughout the first few months only returning briefly to grab some things every few weeks. By the time summer came around, we (my girlfriend and I) started heading back to my moms house to stay for a few days at a time before heading back to her apartment. We missed my dogs and it became apparent my mother wasn't taking care of them. One needed medication that she hadn't given to him for months.

His health was declining and I just wanted him to be taken care of. On one summer night, my girlfriend and I were sitting outside in the back drinking white claws and saw the old man sitting in the shed. He had a light now, clothes hanging up to dry along the doorway. We thought it was odd, but so was he in all honesty. Then, for a brief moment, my mom came out and went into the backhouse before going back inside. I noticed the door wasn't fully closed. I hadn't stepped foot in the backhouse for five years at this point, not for even a second.

Curiosity got the best of us. I went inside and noticed it was cluttered with so much junk that you could barely make your way through it. Worse yet, there was no electricity or running water. It became immediately clear that the old man was living in that shed. The next day, my girlfriend went home and I stayed back to check things out a bit more.

While he was away at dialysis, i peaked inside the shed and the whole place smelled like literal shit. He was shitting and pissing in a bucket. Worse yet, the back door of the backhouse was locked. He didn't have access to an actual toilet. He couldn't come into the main house either because my mom had told him she was scared of Covid-19 when she was actually a covid denier/Qanon believer.

She sent me multiple things about it being a "plandemic" throughout everything and we even found her twitter where she was diving in head first into other similar conspiracies. She wasn't concerned about this man's well-being at all. Meanwhile, my girlfriend is now talking to her bosses. She's a paralegal for some of the literal best criminal defense attorneys in California.

Their reactions were pretty bad. This wasn't just a disgusting act that any sane person could tell you is awful. This was some high-level, all over the news type stuff. We were advised to have what was basically an intervention with my mom to tell her to fix this immediately or risk jailtime for her and her son. She was not compliant, but she was scared. So scared that she fled the scene, grabbed the old man from dialysis, and convinced him that we were the bad guys in this situation.

While she was gone doing all that, which was most of the day, we grabbed a uhaul and packed all my things as fast as we could. Meanwhile, my brother is yucking it up in the old mans home completely unaware to what is happening. He had two random girls over making tiktoks! We got out of there as soon as we were able and had to report things to APS.

They never showed up. We told them everything and they never showed up. Months later, the man died. I don't know if he died in the shed. The listing for his house was online and they didn't even bother to clean up the place. The pictures are filled with my brothers stupid shit. After all of that, he was forced to move back into the backhouse where he started and an old man lived his last days shitting in a bucket inside of a hot shed because my brother wanted to be tiktok famous.

Username: HmWrkHelpThrowaway

Ig it's going to my grave cos I don't wanna see a doctor about it - Asian families don't tend to be good with these kinda things

I think I'm fine and im just different, for example unlike other ppl who prefer to spend their time enjoying themselves, I often spend my time outside sitting on a tree in an empty park and doing dhikr (the Islamic remembrance of God/Allah). Its either that or I spend my time working out.

One place I've found I REALLY differ from people is that I don't rlly like having money. Truth be told I'm flat broke and idm it everytime I make money I tend to give it to charity, I believe if you're good to others then Allah will reward you either in this life or the next.

My mum eventually found out about these things and started questioning me asking if i need to see a doctor, I said no I feel fine. But I always overhear my parents arguing back and forth in urdu about whether or not I've "gone mad", she said I do weird things like just sitting in a park in silence and that I've been sleeping too much and skipping school and my grades are falling and I'm not eating the same etc.

I didn't wanna say it to my mum but there's a girl who my heart belongs to, a girl I met in school, the thing is i don't think her heart belongs to me. She's also a practicing Muslim and she's your textbook good girl, does well in school, has few friends, no social media, hardly goes outside. Yk the nerd stereotype ig u could say. I remember one time we went lidl together to buy food and she didn't know how to use the self checkout machine and there was smt kinda cute about it ngl. A lot of the things she does are rlly cute, she's quite shy about her smile so the way she covers her mouth when she smiles or laughs is rlly cute, she's an immigrant but she's lived in many different countries so her accent is very unique and I like it tbh. She's born in Dubai, parents are from Bangladesh and Pakistan, but she spent most her life in Italy and Britian - she speaks urdu/hindi, bangla, Arabic, Italian and English! - I love her so much but the thing is i don't think she loves me back, I feel like we've had enough conversation to get that. Secondly she described her ideal man for her and I dont fit it at all, for starters she's says she's into East Asians, I'm South Asian; for me specifically ethnicity doesn't rlly play a role on if I like you or not. Me, her and a few more of my friends had a falling out a while ago and tbh I ain't feeling school rn simply cos they're there i don't wanna see them or hear their voices.

Then she started appearing in my dreams, and thats when i fell into the habit of oversleeping, I started sleeping solely so I can see her more often, so I can be with her

One dream I had, our maths lesson was cancelled and she was studying in the library - like i said she's ur textbook good girl - and I came and sat with her and she asks "when were you gonna tell me?" I asked her what she was talking about and she says "that you love me... cos I love you too." I won't lie, in my excitement i just shot awake but I WISH I had stayed asleep for longer - so far I've had dreams with her in it about 14 times.

I spoke to a friend about this and he said im losing my grip on reality and that "you thinking about her all the time stops you from experiencing reality" and he said I ain't thinking straight and so on.

Lastly tbh I kinda cut off all my friends online, blocked their phone numbers, email, WhatsApp, Instagram, twitter etc. Then the same friend sees me in person - he'd an Islamic scholar so i trust his opinion deeply - and he tells me i need to go doctors because he says I'm showing early signs of insanity.

The girl I love, the girl who's robbed me of my sleep, my appetite and my relationships and yet who I feel would be the only one to revive them, I wouldn't have to sleep so much to be with her if i was with her irl
I plan on asking for her hand in marriage sometime within the next 3-5 years, for age reference were both 17, she's about a week older than me.

Username: nbillz

I'm using a throwaway because I just can't have this tied back to me. I hate my mom. I don't want to hate her, it's not the typical teenage "you're ruining my life!!!" but I feel like there's no other response my body can physically go to anymore.

Buckle in, it's gonna be a long one. I didn't have some horrible childhood, but I don't think it's going too far to say I was emotionally neglected. My mother doesn't hug, doesn't say I love you, doesn't do crying, she really doesn't do compliments.

She's always very careful to angle a "compliment" around me, always saying "that dress looks nice" or "I think that award is cool". She uses that fact I got certain awards to downplay other kids getting them (ex: This mom on Facebook is raving about her kid getting this award, like I told her you got it too, its not that big of a deal). Used to threaten to strangle me when I got "too annoying" in stores.

I'm plus-sized (on the lower end of the spectrum and willing to admit it, like a size 16) and was always a kinda chunky kid, and she was absolutely horrible about it. I have stories of her telling me I couldn't get a bathing suit my friends had on because of my stomach (I was 6), saying I couldn't run fast because of my extra weight, and saying she could put me on a diet (I was 7), and just the list goes on and on and on and on. It caused me to develop some rather gnarly eating habits.

As a kid, I ate too much and hoarded sweets/rather fatty things because I didn't know when id be shamed/not allowed to have said things again. And now as a teenager, I think I have ARFID, and def have anorexia and bulimia. And honestly, all of that is in the past.

I'm willing to start moving past that. But it just doesn't stop there. She's so easily irritable and short-tempered. I'll ask a simple question like "Did she say anything else?" and she'll be extremely annoyed and defensive in her answer.

When I ask why she says I had an attitude and then will mock the way I said it like a five-year-old. I constantly feel like I'm walking on eggshells.

Recently she was having a bad day where she was lashing out at everyone and when I offered to cancel plans she was like "No then it'll be MY fault and everyone will blame me and I'll be the bad guy" like ...you're already there hun.

I try so hard to understand she might have a different love language, maybe it's acts of service, okay. I do some chores and stuff for her. She complains about how I did them. Not that, okay. Quality time? All she does is use me as her personal therapist and rant about my dad and her mom drama.

Okay... not doing that. Maybe gift-getting/giving? She complains that we have too much shit if I give her anything and uses anything she got me against me later (ex: I can't complain because "I get you stuff you want all the time"). Maybe it's communication style then? I try and confront her, I'm the instigator feeding into her victim complex now. I give a cooldown period before talking, I get blown off and gaslit.

I approach things calmly, I get screamed at. I approach things NOT calmly, I get brick-walled. She doesn't even treat me like her kid. She bitched to me about the gifts family members got me for the winter holidays and how it made HER look and feel bad.

She complained that when I got a job, I never took HER out to lunch, and I never offered to pay for HER meal (as If that was 15 y/o me's job??). Every second is planned around her and how her mood could randomly fluctuate. I don't give a shit about her bad childhood, that's her problem and she shouldn't have had a damn kid if that was too much for her. I know she loves me, but she doesn't LIKE me.

She hates me, and at this point, I hate her too. I hate that I hate her. I want my mommy. I was to be hugged and kissed and told everything will be just fine, and that I'm loved and appreciated. I have a mother, I want a mom. But she's never going to be one, and I hate it.

Username: throwaway239579438

I'm still in-love with a childhood best friend, despite being married and having kids.

I absolutely love and adore my husband, would never ever even consider cheating on him, and would never even fathom or fantasize being with anyone but his (unless he's involved 😉)... I can never love anyone the way I love my husband, he made me a mother and is a incredible father and great husband- though does have a lot of emotional trauma from his childhood so it's never been a "fairytale tomance" per say...

BUT about 3 years before we got together, I realized I had a strong attraction to a friend of mine [well call him "Z" and acted on it.. And at first the feeling was reciprocated.

He is almost 2 years younger than me and I'd been friends with his entire family for years, his brother 3 years older than me was my first kiss at 14 years old- but I'd immediately realized then we were not meant to be more than friends... It turns out the youngest brother, Z, had had a crush on me from the beggining when I was about 8 and he was about 6....

Fast forward to me being 23, ending a horrible relationship, and hanging out with Z as I did all the time.m But this time something clicked, I went for it, and he admitted years of pent-up feelings.. The only issue was he had been in a long-term abusive relationship with his high-school sweetheart that he had finally left a year prior, sick of her physically and verbally abusing him...

Ultimately he decided he was too damaged and couldn't offer the relationship he felt I deserved and cut it off, though we remained best friends.

When I started dating my [now] husband, he quickly learned about my relationship with Z and felt uncomfortable with me around him. He doesn't seem to care about any of my exs (were from a small town and all 4 of my relationships before him were "long-term", so he knows them all 🤦‍♀️), but he seems to have a gut feing I have more feelings for Z than I've let on..... And he's right, though I'd never act on them.

I never believed in "soul mates" or "Twin flames" until Z and I got very close after highschool... When I realized how much more he meant to me than just a friend, I thought for sure I'd found my life-patner hiding under my nose for all those years....

To this day I've never met anyone I "click" with like him. We are mirror personalities of eachother except male and female. We understand eahother better than anyone else as we grew up together and know what each went through, and we both went through very traumatic events......

Several months ago he called me and said he needed me- something he's never said before- and it turned out he'd met someone who made him feel like he wasn't "broken" anymore and she broke his heart....

I comforted him, told him he deserves better and let him vent and even cry before cheering him up with stories of childhood and what not....... I'll never admit to anyone how hard my heart was breaking during that conversation, wishing I could've been the one to make him feel that way... Wishing he and I could've started a life together instead....... Again, I love and adore my husband and in all honesty wouldn't change things if I could- its just that no one ever made me feel as comfortable and free as Z did....

So while it's really nothing very scandals, that's my secret I'll take to my grave. That Z is the love of my love of my life that "got away", and no matter how much more love I have for my husband and family that I didn't even know could exist- even after all this time (almost a decade), I still can't think about/talk about/talk to Z without a strong sense of yearning for "what could have been"...

Username: Puzzleheaded_Role517

This is just one of a few: It was in high school, a few degenerate friends and I decided to ride our bikes to my best friends house to see if he wanted to smoke weed. We arrived to find he and his parents weren’t home. One of us jokingly suggested going inside. We ended up actually sneaking In through a window. After we were inside I was high on adrenaline and the idea of being in a friends house with no one home. My friends ended up rifling through his parents closets.

They grabbed trash bags and began taking all his movies and games. I decided to stand by, I felt wrong, I took nothing, at this point I felt like a total pos. We left, and I felt so horrible watching them ride their bikes away with 2 trash bags full of my buddies movies and games. But I didn’t want to be a snitch.

A few weeks later my friend got a call from a local movie/game store (they still existed then). The dumbasses turned all his games and movies in for “store credit” and gave their full names and phone numbers.

They were charged, and tried to rat on me. But they had no evidence that I was there. And my buddy trusted me so much he didn’t believe them. That incident sent their budding adult lives on a downward spiral. One ended up in and out of jail for the next 15+ years.

The other tried to open a medical marijuana company. One night he brought some buddies to his farm after clubbing. One of these guys saw an opportunity, and smashed his brains in with a big rock trying to steal his money and rob him. Dude was charged for killing my friend and got life in prison.

I am now semi-successful, and so is my best friend who’s house we broke in to. We are both in our mid 30s now. We both have great careers and families.

He was the best man in my wedding, and to this day we are amazing friends, brothers really. But he has no idea that his best friend helped those other guys break in to his house back in the day. It seems small, but it eats me up.

On the other hand, my buddy we robbed...he and I ended up breaking in to another buddies house. Just the 2 of us. We took computers, rare cigars, cameras etc.. and I turned them in to a local Crip gang member we met through our weed dealer search. He gave me half an Oz of ganj for them.

So I figured we both have skeletons in our closet now. And the buddy we robbed together, is still a great friend of ours to this day.

Oh, then my buddy and I went back to the Crips house to get a dub sack one day. He was gacked out on E, like white cracked lips, repeating words over and over etc.. we waited for him to go to the bathroom. My dude ran upstairs and pocketed his entire stash of E pills. Looked like a big bag of smartees. He came out of the bathroom and our adrenaline was pumping, we smoked a blunt with him to not arouse suspicion. Then went on our merry way.

Such is life.

Username: 1FrenziedPotato

I have honestly given up on this Earth. I do not want to cancel living, I just don't see anything to invest myself in. I used to be the most outgoing person my friends knew. I never said no and always tried to have a good time. Now, I wake up and immediately regret opening my eyes. Again, I do not want to retire, I just don't see the point of investing.

This all started around 2016 when Trump was voted into office. I have never seen so much hate and anger in my life. Seeing that hit me to my core because I always try to see the good in people. I was that kid at 5yo, giving strangers the pennies in my pocket cause they needed it more than me.

I was that friend that would risk everything, including my job, when you called me in a time of need.

I have tried opening up to friends, family, and even professionals about my situation. My wife has become bitter and always tries to justify why people are so nasty nowadays, and my friends blow me off saying "it's all in my head.". I am a 35yo white male, and I try my hardest not to see color.

The only reason why I am reminded of it is due to mainstream media and those who want to keep everyone divided. I also can not understand for the best of me why such a small group of people are able to regulate how others are supposed to think and feel.

My secret is, is that I am tired of everyone and everything, including my friends and family. I know there's still good people out there, but I am tired of searching. When I became an "enemy" to society is when I knew the world was done with nice, good, and honest people. My day to day life now consists of me blaming my ailments for me not being able to do anything (I have Chrons Disease, COPD, GERD, and heart disease) when in fact its just me giving up on the world.

My friends will call me and I will ignore them blaming my conditions. My wife doesn't understand my situation, which causes a lot of issues (I am in an interracial relationship), and I feel it's because she can not put herself in my position.

I wish I could find someone who's felt as I do now and how they were able to overcome it or at least how they coped. I am depressed but not with anything I am doing. I love the things around me, and I try not to be materialistic. I appreciate the little things and enjoy experiencing new things.

I am just tired of constantly being brushed off, verbally attacked (due to my interracial relationship), of seeing so many people being bitter, and the lack of compassion in this country. I have tried a lot of mental health medications and even self-medicate just to try and cope with this world.

Nothing works, including self-medication. I am on the verge of becoming a full hermit and just saying screw it all and go hide in the woods for the rest of my life away from everything and unfortunately that includes leaving my 3 wonderful children behind.

Sorry for the long comment. This is the first time I am actually putting my thoughts on paper. Thank you if you read the whole thing, and I appreciate you taking time out of your life to listen to mine. Much love to all, and I'm sorry I am slowly giving up on you.

Username: Weekly_Event7647

I technically lost my virginity at age 8. I was forced to go to some adults party thing at our church and, other than this girl who was also my age named Shannon, I was the only kid there.

Shannon and I were extremely bored and kept to ourselves at first before gravitating toward one another out of boredom. Boredom led to us exploring the church, where we found a "Classroom" that was supposed to be locked like all of the others, but it wasn't.

So we went in and hung out, and locked the door behind us so that it was "our room." She suggested we play "house" so we built a fort out of all of the tables and chairs and let our imaginations run wild as we pretended to be married and living in this "house" (our fort).

We mimicked eating dinner and watching tv and everything else and then eventually she said "well if we're married we need to have sex." Despite our age, we weren't idiots and we had both seen movies so we knew exactly what that meant and we both got naked. We embraced and kissed and even said "I love you", "I love you too." because that's what we thought adults did.

When you're 8, your dick can get hard, but it's not the same as being post-pubescent and an adult when you get an erection. There's nothing sexual about it really, your dick just gets hard. Mine was hard, and we both knew what to do so I laid down on the floor and she squatted over me and put me inside her.

We grinded back and forth a few times (because we didn't really know what else to do other than that) and then she slid me out of her and stood up and said, still pretending we were a married couple playing house "Ok goodnight now." and then laid down next to me and hugged me and pretended to go to sleep.

After a few minutes we got up and got dressed and resumed playing house further, which was basically just re-enacting everything we'd already done like pretending to eat dinner, talk about our made up days, etc.

It wasn't until years later that I realized that I'd technically lost my virginity that night (penis inside vagina, humping...no climax because I couldn't due to being so young but still) and then never told anyone because it would've been so hard to explain plus someone most likely would've seen the whole thing as some sort of molestation, either on her part or my part, even though both of us were just kids and "playing."

Sidenote: I lost my actual virginity (this time with full climax) just 8 years later at 16 - also at a church function.

I went to a different church at that point and had a girlfriend that didn't go to church and one night, while swimming as a youth group at a friends house at their pond, she started jerking me off in the water and we swam over to underneath their pier where we had full on sex in the water while the rest of our friends splashed around and swam nearby.

Turns out they all knew, they just didn't know how to react at the time because it was a church thing and we were "sinning right next to them."

Username: DaveDavidsen

That I have a debilitating hentai addiction.

Right at puberty, I had one of those Nintendo DSi's which was the first model that could use an internet browser. Being like 11 years old I just Googled porn pictures and one of the few websites my shitty DS browser could support had a bunch of hentai on the front page.

My first exposure to porn was of some unrealistic idealized version of the female form.

I dont wanna say it ruined my real life relationships and expectations, but what it did was make real women seem kinda physically unappealing. I dated a lot, did football, stayed in shape, kept social, and never really appeared as a weeb or anything. By all outward appearances you'd never guess that I would be that kind of person.

It's not like I'm an anime-obsessed nerd, and I really do want a normal life and relationship, but at this point in my life it's like my brain has been trained to be most excited by some drawings instead of the idea of being with a beautiful girl.

Thats the most fucked up part. Is that its so engraved into my brain that even when I try to quit, I can't watch a show or something without thinking "I should look this character up on R34".

It's turned into a dangerous game where I get nervous from people holding my unlocked phone, and when I talk to girls I get kinda scared that she might wanna hook up and I just won't be that into it for her.

Part of it is also that the "sexual revolution" we live in has normalized sex and I've been hurt pretty badly in past relationships, so I find that my "kink" with women is just genuine affection/love. This combination has made hook ups basically impossible for me.

And as an adult, if I wanted to start a relationship, I'd have to tell her to wait on sexy times for a while until I get comfortable enough with her. I usually say it's because of some past relationship stuff, which is true, but its mostly because I just don't get excited from normal sex stuff anymore and one of the few things that does get me excited is a deep emotional bond/acts related to that.

There's some upsides, like I don't have the urge to objectify. I come off as respectful and passive but it's because I just don't have that drive for meaningless sex. Meanwhile my best friend is the exact opposite, always going out looking for a prize at clubs, not caring about the person just the hookup. Part of me wishes I could be like that sometimes but I know ultimately I'm better behaved like this.

I just wish I could cure myself of this mindset and restart. I wish I could feel genuine excitement at the objective idea of hooking up. I feel like even if I quit today, the mental conditioning of the last 11 years would never go away and I would have to live life walking around eggshells with everything I watch on TV or see online.

Username: ObligatoryTitle

Long time lurker - throwaway on a 20+ hours old thread just to get something off my chest. Prepare for long post. I am not a native english speaker, so I apologize if my grammar or wording is weird.

By the time I was fifteen, I had killed both my grandfathers.

When I was nine, my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer. By the time I was fourteen, he was bedridden, can barely move, and cannot remember anyone or anything. Whenever I visited him, he would not remember me and will rambling on about how my father is doing in school (my father graduated more than 20 years ago). He does have moments of lucidity from time to time, but those period of lucidity got shorter and less frequent.

One late evening as I was cleaning the room, he suddenly called out my name and asked me what's happening. I was excited, and we had a long conversation about what's happening in our family. How everyone's doing, what is everyone working on, how's the family, etc. It lasted a good hour, and as the conversation went on, he grew more and more tired. Right before he fall back to sleep, he whisper something about hating to live like this and hoping to end his life.

I was in shock and has no idea how to respond. By the time I came around and wanted to ask him what that was about, he already fall asleep. I thought I misheard. I swore I misheard. I don't know who to confide in, so I just pretend I didn't hear anything and kept it a secret. Over the next year, his condition steadily deteriorate. I don't know if he remembered. Whenever he was lucid, other people were always there, and he never brought it up again. I convinced myself I misheard.

About just over a year since that incident, I had already completely forgotten about it. That day, I skipped the after school activity because the helper need to take her kid to some medical appointment. This happen from time to time, so I am fairly used to the routine. Once I finished putting my stuff away, I went and check on my grandfather. To my surprise, I found him awake and staring at me - he was lucid again. He called out my name, and I was about to start talking about how everyone is doing, what's happening, etc. - the standard stuff whenever he was lucid. But this time, he cut me off. He looked at me and asked if I can help him do something. It's my grandpa, I naturally said sure, anything. Then he flat out asked me to help him end his life. I was in shock again. The incident from over a year ago came flooding back into my mind. I didn't misheard, and he knew I heard it. I tried to object. I tried to convince him to talk to my parents, my brother, anyone. He said no. He said he was too weak to do it himself, and I was the only family member he trust to help him with it. To this day, I still don't know what he meant by that. It took a bit arguing between us.

But I ultimately relent. His my grandpa, he raised me more than my parents did. If this is something he truly wished, I convinced myself, its for the best and I shouldn't deny him. I had no idea what to do, but he told me exactly how, and I followed his instructions. I killed him. My family thought the disease took him, but it was me. No one suspect a thing. There was no autopsy. No one knew. It's been over a decade, and sometime I still wonder if I did the right thing.

My other grandfather died when I was six. It was on a Friday evening. I had a glass of water in my hand as I was rushing upstairs to watch my cartoons. I tripped on the staircase, and I rolled down the stair as the water spilled all over the steps. My other grandfather heard it upstairs and rush down to see if I was okay. He slipped on the stair and cracked his head.

He passed away shortly after that. Everyone thought it was an accident and he simply slipped on the step, but it was me. He slipped because he was rushing to see if I was okay. He slipped because I spilled water on the stair. He slipped because I was running up the stair to catch my cartoon. I killed him.

No one else knew. None of my family member is on here, so none of them will ever see this, and I just want to get this off my chest. By the time I was fifteen, my action had killed both my grandfather. No one else in my family would know, and this secret would die with me.

Username: throwaway_jhgny