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Oguzz07

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Okay, fair warning, this one is long as hell. Apologies for that, but this is very hard for me and I have been carrying it for a lot of years. On the advice of my therapist, I’ve written it all out to try to work out my feelings on it. He didn’t advise me to submit it to Reddit of course, but I have struggled with this for a long time, and I need to hear other people’s opinion on it. I still really have no idea how I feel about it, even after all these years, but I will submit for judgment by the masses. I know I did wrong on some things, probably a lot of things. I tried to do my best that I could. My son was very troubled. VERY troubled. If you have seen the movie "We Need To Talk About Kevin", it will really help to understand what I'm talking about, because I swear to God when I watched that film I thought I was watching a documentary of my life, I felt like the writer must have had cameras hidden in my damn house, that’s how accurate it was. The only difference is that in the movie, the boy appears normal to his father and only reveals his true nature to his mother, with my son he didn’t have that mask. His insane behavior was the same with everyone. From the day he was born, my son just came out wrong. He was planned, my wife and I tried to get pregnant and were ecstatic when he was born. He was wanted and loved. We showered affection on him and really tried to give him a happy childhood. But from the day we brought him home from the hospital, he was miserable. He cried for 13 months straight. I’m not exaggerating, 13 months without a break, he cried until he had no voice left and kept crying, you could see his little face scrunched up and no sound coming out, totally hoarse. There were times he would literally be crying in his sleep, I’ve never seen or heard of any other kid able to do that. We brought him to doctors, specialists, tried changing his diet, held him, rocked him, toys, swaddling, music, mobiles, everything we could think of. Nothing worked. 13 months of grating, grinding, no sleep hell. Once he got over the crying stage, we thought we were out of the woods. But it quickly became clear that for some unknown reason, he was just angry at being alive. I never saw that kid have a genuine, joyous smile once in the time I knew him. I saw him grin a vicious, horrible grin many times, taking a perverse pleasure from causing pain or suffering or breaking a rule, but a smile from real pleasure at something nice? No, never. Not once. He had no interest in anything positive; he was fueled by hate, and everything he did was bent toward that. As soon as he could walk, his mission in life was to destroy things. He would break or try to break anything that came in his range, smash it, chew it, throw it in the toilet, whatever he could. After a while he figured out how to get his diaper off and took great pleasure in shitting and pissing anywhere he could. After a while he figured out he could hide it, and started pissing and shitting in places we wouldn’t find right away, grinding it into carpets making it even more of a problem to clean and making the house stink. When he got older, (ages 9-15) he would piss and shit in our bed, until we got a lock on our door and he wasn’t able to get in anymore; then he’d just take a dump in the hallway in front of our room. That biological warfare started around a 2 and a half years old and he never grew out of it. I’ll try to speed it up as I could literally go on for days about this stuff, but as he grew older, he became more and more unmanageable. He would bite, kick, scream, scratch and spit at anyone trying to do anything with him. He was kicked out of school twice before he was 9, then let him back in and then kicked him out for good, he had to change schools. The next one put him in a special class that kept him away from the other students. We had to install a door and lock on the kitchen because he would steal knives and use them to gouge the walls/furniture or chase people with them. When he was 10, he stabbed me pretty good in the hip and ass, I still have the scars. As he grew older, he grew darker. He moved into setting things on fire, and torturing local animals. There was a stray dog that hung out around the park near our house, my son blinded it in one eye with a BBQ fork. He would dip cat’s tails in gasoline and light them on fire. He became a violent, stinking, vicious beast that lived in our house. We couldn’t do anything with him. I will take this opportunity to preempt the tsunami of messages: YES, we had the kid in fucking therapy. He saw a psychiatrist twice a week, and had god knows how many different medications prescribed to him over the years. Nothing worked. Therapy didn’t work. Meds didn’t work. Nothing fucking worked. He was like a poison cloud of hate and fury lashing out at anything in his reach. When my son was 16, my wife got pregnant again. I can’t tell you how different our reaction was. Instead of joy, we felt horror. This pregnancy had not been planned, and we really were at a loss over what to do. My son had been such an unending nightmare for 16 years, we couldn’t take the idea of starting again from the beginning. We talked a lot about terminating, but a) access to abortion was not as easy in those days as it is now, and b) my wife was very against it. We talked about many options. In the end, we decided that my wife would have the baby, and if it turned out evil we would put it up for adoption. We knew we just couldn’t do it again with another child like our son. We had a daughter. She was normal. Suddenly we saw what our lives should have been like the whole time, how things would have been had our son not been himself. She laughed at things. She breast fed without biting (she didn’t have teeth yet anyway, but you could tell she was just trying to eat, not tear her mom’s breast off). After 4 months she was sleeping through the night. She was happy. She was NORMAL. I can’t describe the relief and happiness that we both felt, I don’t have the words for it. This where I believe I may have started really pulling back from my son. Up until that time, whatever mistakes I made, I had always tried to do the best for my son, I am convinced of that. I tried to help him and love him and care for him, I really tried. But when my daughter was born, my wife and I both instinctively just turned toward her. She became our focus, not from malice, but just because she was so much EASIER. She was so happy and sweet, every moment we were with her was like magic. I understand this was wrong, but we honestly couldn’t help it. I don’t have a better explanation than that. My son hadn’t given a shit about my wife being pregnant, I honestly don’t know if he really understood it, but when we brought our daughter home he started acting out even more. I didn’t think it was possible, but he took it up another notch. At this time he was 17, and we were having blow-out screaming matches daily. Usually after we fought, he would storm out of the house and disappear for hours at a time, or come back the next morning. It was a relief. I started to actually look forward to our fights because it would get him away from us for a while. After the birth of our daughter, my relationship with my son was almost entirely gone, our only real interactions were screaming at each other. My wife was even worse with him, she just had nothing left. By that time, if our son even came in to the same room as her, she would just stop whatever she was doing and start screaming “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY! GET THE FUCK OUT!” until he left. He started spending more and more time out of the house, which was a blessing for us. I have no idea what he got up to out in the world, but we were just happy it wasn’t being inflicted on us. As a consequence of our son’s behavior, we had invested heavily in locks around our house. All of the cheap, thin interior doors in our home had been replaced with think, dense wood doors that couldn’t be kicked through, equipped with keyed locks that my wife and I carried keys to. I know it sounds extreme, but locks and heavy doors were the best way we had found to create safe spaces from him. And again, before I am inundated with messages, I was not locking my son in rooms like a prisoner, he had free reign of the house and could come and go as he pleased. My wife and I would lock OURSELVES in rooms to protect ourselves from him, if anything WE were the prisoners in our own home. On the day in question, I had fought with my son in the morning and he had left the house in a rage. My wife and I were enjoying some peace and quiet in the kitchen while our daughter napped in our bedroom. And then my daughter began crying. Any parent who has young children can tell you, you get used to your child’s cries and you can tell after a while what they need, they cry differently if they are hungry, or need changing, or are just restless and want to be held. Babies can communicate pretty well before they can speak. This cry was none of those things. This cry was terror. The second we heard it my wife and I were both up out of our chairs and running to the room. The door was locked of course, and it took a few seconds to get the right key and get it open. My son was in the room. We lived in a bungalow, and the bastard had climbed in the window to get to her. He was standing over her crib with a steak knife in his hand. I have no idea where he got it, it wasn’t one of ours; we controlled our knives very carefully and always kept them in locked drawers. I think he may have stolen it from one of our neighbor’s houses. He had broken her skin twice already, once in the belly area and once on her arm. I could see blood running down. When I entered the room he was dragging the back of the knife down her face, not cutting, almost tickling her with it, teasing her while she screamed. He looked up at us and smiled. Before I knew what I was doing, I was already moving, running to put myself between them. I didn’t think about it, I just moved instinctively. Even with that, my wife got there faster, it was like a movie on fast forward, she got to our son and bashed his hand away, knocking the knife across the room and then shoved him with her whole body weight, so hard that he flew away from the crib and bounced off the wall. I picked up my daughter and held her while my wife screened us. I could see her shaking, almost convulsing. I can remember the smell of the room, the sound of my daughter screaming and wailing. The look on my son’s face as he stood there. Just nothing. Blank, dead, there was nothing in his eyes, no emotion. He looked like an alien to me. I watched my wife take a step toward him. I could have reached out and stopped her, but I didn’t. She stepped forward again, very close to him. I could have stopped her again. But I didn’t. She waited, looking at him for maybe 3 to 5 seconds without moving. And then she punched him in the face. Now until this point, you may have been picturing my wife as a typical woman, small frame, dainty, delicate. This is not the case. My wife does have a small frame, but dainty and delicate she is not, never has been since I’ve known her. Since her early teens, my wife has been a boxer. MMA didn’t exist back then, but karate and boxing were big in those days, and my wife was a VERY talented amateur. She was about 130 pounds, she carried a lot of muscle and she knew how to punch. I had 70 pounds on her back then, and I have no doubt that in a real fight between me and her she could have and would have pounded me flat. Neither of us had ever laid a hand on our son in anger before, but something broke in her that day, and all the years of anger and pain and sorrow and frustration just came pouring out. When she hit him his head snapped back and blood started pouring out of his nose. He hardly reacted, he just looked at her with this shocked expression like he didn’t know how to process what had just happened. She waited another second. And then she hit him again. I could have reached out and stopped her. I could have dragged her out of the room, taken her away, calmed her. I didn’t. I just stood there and watched while she systematically started to pound him to a pulp. Every time he brought his hands to cover one part she would blast him somewhere else, body, head, body, head, over and over. He started screaming, crying out, yelling for her to stop. It’s the most genuine reaction I’d ever seen him have to anything in his whole life. But she wasn’t stopping. I watched her ramping up, hitting harder, faster, working him like a heavy bag. He tried to swing at her and she slipped him easily. She was on auto pilot, sinking down into her training. I stood there watching for a minute. Then I turned my back on them and took my daughter out of the room. I brought my daughter to the kitchen and gave her a bath in the sink. I found that he had cut her a third time on the sole of her foot. All the cuts were superficial. I cleaned her up and held her until she calmed. I put Polysporin and Band-Aids on her cuts. In our bedroom, I could hear my son screaming, calling my wife horrible names, telling her he would cut her head off and fuck her corpse. After a while, I didn’t hear him saying anything anymore, didn’t even hear him crying out. I assumed that he must have been knocked out. But I could still hear her beating him. That went on for a long time. Long enough for my daughter to drift off to sleep in my arms. I just sat at the kitchen table waiting for her to finish. Finally she came out and sat down across from me. Her hands were swollen and red. Her face and arms were splattered with blood. Her chest was heaving. We just stared at each other without saying anything. After a while I asked her “Is he dead?” She looked back at me and answered “I fucking hope so”. I nodded. That was all there was to say about that. I understood how she felt perfectly. I felt the same. I didn’t know what to do, so we just sat there waiting silently. Eventually my wife started crying and went to go take a shower. I just stayed where I was holding our daughter. After a long while, I heard moaning and sobbing coming from our room. It turned out that my son wasn’t dead. I went in to see how bad it was, and it was… pretty bad. I’ve never seen a more merciless beating laid onto anyone, before or since. He was lying on the floor, rolling around with blood leaking out of his face, lying in a pool of vomit. His nose was squashed flat out across his face, both of his eyes were completely swollen shut and starting to blacken already. I could see that a couple of his fingers were bent out at weird angles and he had pissed his pants. I think he must have been missing teeth, but I couldn’t see any on the floor and I couldn't see inside his mouth, his lips were all puffed up and swollen. From talking to my wife about it later, I know now that she had systematically beaten every part of his body, focusing heavily on his legs. She told me she kicked him in the groin repeatedly until her legs got tired, and had kept beating his body long after he had passed out. When my wife came out of the shower, I still didn’t know what to do about our son. I didn’t know whether to call the police or an ambulance, take him to the hospital myself, I honestly didn’t have any idea what to do. After a while I realized that I simply didn’t care what happened to him anymore, and we decided to just let him live or die on his own. There was an in-law suite in the basement that we had never really used, and my wife, my daughter and I just moved down there. We simply ceded the top floor of the house to my son and locked everything down, separated our lives entirely. There was plenty of food in the upstairs cabinets, enough for a couple weeks or more, he had a washroom and bedrooms to use. We had a washroom in the basement, a small kitchenette, and a separate entrance so we just stopped going upstairs. We just decided we were done with him. I figured we'd let his food run out and see what happened. Over the next week we could hear him moving around upstairs sometimes. I think he just spent most of time lying in bed recovering. I went to work, watching on high alert in case he attacked me in the driveway, but he never did. My wife stayed home with our daughter. She was never out of our sight. One night we heard him going ballistic, smashing things and banging. We didn’t respond. He never tried to get downstairs or get near us though. I think he was afraid that if he got near us again, my wife might finish the job on him. After three weeks down in the basement, we hadn’t heard anything from up above for a few days, and I ventured upstairs to the main floor of the house. The place was demolished, and there was no sign of my son. He was gone. It took months to repair the damage he had done and get the main floor back to normal again. There was food and shit smeared all over the walls and broken glass on the floor, big holes in the dry wall, he had ripped the place apart. He tore up the linoleum in a corner of the kitchen and emptied an entire foam fire extinguisher into the living room. I feel thankful that he didn't burn the house down with us in it, I'm honestly not sure why he didn't, the kid wasn't shy about lighting things on fire. After that, I lived in fear every day that he would come back, that he would ambush us out of the blue and try to kill us. We moved house about 3 years later and I finally stopped being afraid that he would show up again, as now he had no idea where we were. I finally felt safe from him. All this happened a long time ago. My son was born in the spring of 1971, my daughter was born in ’88. I'm an old man now, I’ll be 70 this year and my wife passed from cancer in 2016. My daughter is 31 now, I moved in with her and her husband after my wife passed. I’ve got two granddaughters and they are the joy of my life. I see a therapist a couple times a month to talk about all this. I don’t know where my son is. The last time I saw him was when he was lying on the floor of our bedroom, bleeding and smashed. I haven’t heard from him since he left, more than 30 years now. I don’t want to. I carry a lot of guilt from that time, and a lot of conflicted emotions. I didn’t beat him myself, but I allowed him to be beaten, and I thought he deserved it. I was happy it happened. I didn’t try to kill him, but I would have been happy if he died. I will say that I do hope he was able to overcome his demons and go live a normal life somewhere. If he wasn’t able to do that, if he stayed the way he was, then I truly do hope someone out there killed him. When I knew him he was a rabid dog, and whichever way it went I just hope he isn’t still out there hurting anyone else.

I don't know if this is real or not but holy shit what a ride it was

Not that I can’t see her naked pretty much any time but still. It’s the little things.

> It’s the little things. Thats what she said?

My Reddit username is Coolgirlonthetrain. I am not really “cool” but I commute daily on a train. So it’s partially correct. I am an English woman. Living in England. About 2 years ago the fate that is called life landed an American guy in my local pub. My first impression was that he was different and a little odd. I was drawn to this oddness. It was cool and exciting and it brings out my personality and inner quirks. About a year ago we have become the best of friends. It’s platonic and it’s amazing. It’s a friendship like no other. Well, of course being a typically reserved English woman I had never heard of Reddit. The guy, who shall be known as Mr X obviously is a hardcore Redditer and has an established account. He told me about Reddit suggesting I set up an account and bet that I could never achieve the same amount of Karma as him. I think it was more the smug grin on his face as he was looking down at me that had the greatest impact and made me more so determined. What I don’t think he realised is that I am incredibly competitive with the determination and heart of a Lion. The prize if I did would be a trip to Canada. I have never been West so for me this would be incredible. This was three weeks ago. Over the last three weeks I have frantically posted all sorts of stuff in an eager attempt to work out what works. I have been called every name under the sun “Karma Whore” “Karma Farmer” “Aunt Susan” and to colloquially go back to Facebook. I have even been requested to stay on my side of the “Pond”. This is my confession. This is why I have been behaving like Aunt Susan the Karma Farming Facebook fiend. I apologise and if you’re interested I will of course keep you posted. Confessions of the not so cool girl on the train.

All the best in your karma whoring, take an upvote on me and enjoy your trip to Cananda! :D

Around 7 pm today, I heard some knocking on my door. I opened it and it was my next door pregnant neighbor (she was, I think, in her 7th or 8th month). She was holding a small plate in her hand. In a very shy voice, she asked me if I can give her some of what ever I was cooking because she liked the smell. I think pregnant women sometimes have strong cravings and they can not resist it. Anyway, She was shy and apologized a lot for her request since we don’t know each other. I laughed and told her it is ok :). I was cooking a traditional meal from my country and the recipe has olive oil, garlic, jalapeños and some spices. I think the smell was nice. I gave her some of my dinner then she left. I Watched her walking home like a cute little penguin who’s happy with her successful little hunting 🙂 I felt really happy too for some reason.

This is so cute

Cause I like giving plat and gold to strangers on the internet. They’re always very thankful and it makes me a bit happy because I’m asocial as fuck irl and I could never brighten someone’s day like I can on here

I’d like to do something like this but I’m too broke lol. Guess I can still help people by giving nice comments for free. The internet needs less trashy people and more people like OP Edit:thank you for the silver, gold and platinum :)

I put $5 to $10 a week in my clothes. He thinks he is getting one over on me because we both have a weekly budget. He doesn't know that he is part of my budget. If I even try to do the laundry he is like "No, I got it" Worth every red cent. Edit: Thank you oh kind ones for the Silverssss 🤴 Edit: And the GOLD awesome reddit person!! 😘 Edit: Platinum, I curtsy to you

You're a fucking genius.

I'm 30 and my little brother is 24. He's honestly the best brother I could have asked for. I still remember the day he was born and holding my newborn baby brother when I was a kid. As we grew up I always knew he was different but he's my brother and I love him and I wouldn't change him. He's honestly one of my best friends and having a brother with downs syndrome, especially one like him has made me a better person. Last month my parents went out of town for a few days and they asked if I'd stay with my brother and take care of the house. While he might have downs syndrome he's not entirely helpless he just can't really be on his own like that. So of course I agreed and brought my PS5 over and some games, snacks and beers, I called out of work for a few days and figured we'd have some fun just like when we were kids. We were having a great time and were talking the first day while taking turns playing Elden Ring and my bro started the game and got to the part where the guy calls you "maidenless" and I said something like "Ooooo he called you maidenless bro...daaaaaaamn." and my brother got super sad looking and I asked him what was wrong and he said, "I am maidenless. I'll never have a girlfriend." So we talked about that for a bit and he was actually feeling super depressed because he's never had a girlfriend and didn't think he ever would. We kind of talked it out and he was really sad and I decided fuck it we can find him a girl. I called a couple people I knew who were into that sort of thing to see if they knew anyone. Well one of my buddies had a number of this girl so I gave her a call. She was actually super sweet and understanding about the situation and she said she'd be glad to show my brother a good time for her usual rate. She had a cousin with downs so she was very sympathetic. I told my brother I'd pay a girl to come over and show him some fun on the condition that our parents will die without knowing I hired a prostitute to come to their house. He agreed. So I made plans for her to come over, got my brother shaved and showered for his date. She showed up dressed up super nice she was also super hot. I'm no chef but I had picked up some food from Olive Garden for them. She was a genuinely nice person and was really good with him and I just left them to do their thing while I played the playstation in the livingroom. Eventually they passed by going upstairs to his room. I put my headphones on and kept playing. Eventually they came back down and both had big smiles on their faces. She hung out with us a bit then it was time for her to go. I handed her the cash plus some extra as a bonus. She said my brother was a sweetheart and that I was a good brother to do something like that for him and that she had a good time. She handed me half the cash back. Eventually my parents came back and thankfully are none the wiser as my mother especially would probably kill me. My brother is super appreciative and said it was the most fun he'd ever had. I have no regrets.

Epic big bro shit there. Not gonna hire you to babysit for me but your a champ

Got into an argument which lead him to say “I could care less about you. If you died tomorrow, I wouldn’t go to your funeral”. I didn’t say anything back, just never spoke to him again. He’s tried to contact me several times since, but I want those to be the last words he’s ever said to me. Bitchass bitch

I ghosted a long term boyfriend before (for many reasons but) because every time we would argue he’d say “fine I’m breaking up with you”. So one time he said it, I told him to get the fuck out of my house and blocked his number. Best decision I ever made. Good for you for sticking up for yourself!

it's actually really difficult because I don't find him sexually attractive in any way and especially just his headshots but I have done it every day for about 2 years because I found it funny at first but now I'm so used to it that it makes me feel incomplete if I don't do it every day.

well I hope he checks his reddit regulary

My daughter has a rare blood disorder called idiopathic thrombocytopedia pupura (immune) which causes her immune system to destroy her platelets so she just bleeds, randomly. Her eye just hemmoraged a few weeks ago and an entire half was filled with blood, today, five hour nose bleed. She can feel when they're coming and she sits down with her bloody nose kit, tissues, a trash bag, a puke bucket for when she swallows too much blood and vomits, gauze, cold packs. My daughter is four. I have been able to convince myself for almost three years that ya, she is sick, but not THAT sick. Last week we spent four days at the hospital for severe anemia and no detectable platelets. She is THAT sick. I get it now. She is getting a wish, and she is getting worse because she is that sick. We have tried every medication available for treatment of this disease. Nothing helps. Nothing fixes it. My heart is broken.

As a fellow parent who’s daughter was also granted a wish to Disney World. My advice for you. Enjoy it. Take the time to just be a kid with your kid. Special Needs parents spend so much time wondering about the next day, week, month etc. We sometimes forget how much fun being a parent of an awesome kid can be. The wish may be granted for the child, but especially on the trip wishes, it really meant to allow the family to do something they rarely get to do. Be a family, having fun, without all the worry. My wife has since become a Wish Grantor for the Organization. She loves it. She keeps getting unique wishes as well. Her first one was building a Wheel Chair Accessible Tree House. Was quite the build. I know this is hard time, when my daughter passed due her disability, it was hard on us as well. Not going to try and diminish your anguish on this issue. Especially when you know it coming. But I will offer up this advice, take the time to live and have fun whenever possible. And do something for yourself now and then.

I’ve been married 8 years. I’m 30, my wife is 33. We have two kids; a boy (5) and a girl (3). I get up every week day at 4:00am. Clean up the litter box, walk the dog, sweep up the house (no vacuum because everyone is still sleeping). I fold the clothes that had dried overnight in the dryer. I check the children’s laundry baskets, and start new loads. I go for a three miles run in the dark at 5:00am. I’m showered and on the road by 6:00am. I commute for an hour and a half to a job I’m not particularly thrilled about but I’m good at it and I’m paid well. I’d rather be home building furniture and learning to be a chef. Officially I work from 8:00am to 5:00pm but we rarely finish at the office before 6:30pm. I drive home another hour and a half. When I get home the house is a mess. There’s no dinner. I’m starving. Did they eat? Yes they did. Uber Eats. Did they order anything for dad? Maybe, if I’m lucky. Wife will be on her phone. Daughter sometimes sleeping, sometimes not, son sometimes sleeping, sometimes not. I’d like to spend time with them, but I need to eat. Bowl of cereal or TV dinner, then. I check the laundry machine. Yep. Laundry from this morning is still there, and a huge pile that didn’t even get started is next to the machine. I put the first load into the dryer and start the next ones. Wife lectures me on how stressful and hard her day was. How hard can it be when I hired a day nanny. Oh she means stressful drama with her friends. Oh yes, tell me about what a bitch Brenda is and what a perfect mom she thinks she is and how she’s fake. My, that’s so interesting. Yes, a blowjob would be awesome. Oh wait you didn’t say blowjob, you said bill, as in the bill for all the just had to have things you ordered off amazon today. She tells me about how I never have time for any of them and how I’m an absentee father and I need to “step up” my contribution at home. Well, this weekend I have to mow the lawn and paint the garage and do all sorts of other chores you insist need to be done only by me, I’m sorry if there’s not two of me and I can’t go on play dates with you and go to champagne brunches where you all pat one another on the back and tell one another how brave and hard working you are to be sitting in a restaurant paying $50 for a plate of food at noon on a weekday for a three hour lunch and yoga afterward when your husband gets a Stouffer’s TV dinner that he heats himself. I’m sorry I can’t be like the J Crew family in the ad and be smiling all the time. Someone has to pay for the house you insisted on, the SUVs you insisted on, the Montessori school you insisted on, the fashionable clothes you insisted on, the organic this and that you insisted on, the hair salon and nail appointments you insisted on. Thanks for calling me selfish for spending time on myself on my three mile runs. It’s the only thing for me I ever get to do, thanks, and it’s while you’re sleeping. I really wish you wouldn’t condescend to me when you discuss me to your friends, as if I’m obsessed with my career and that’s why you’re stuck being supermom. You already know I’m happy with an apartment and used economy cars and buying our clothes at Target and working a job where I get to be home to see my kids. Why are you and the nanny so busy that your combined efforts can’t put the load of laundry in the dryer and press a button. Why do you leave dishes in the sink for me to do after I come home. If you want me to keep working my 160k a year job to to fun your lifestyle that’s fine, I’m your hubby and that’s what I signed up for. I’m your man and it’s my job to support you. I wish you would act like you’re on my side, though, realize that I want to be home, but if you want all the stuff you insist are non negotiable, someone’’s got to go out there and pay for them because that shit ain’t free. Thing is, all of it would be more okay if you just said thanks, Mike, I know you’re working hard or us and that you’re doing your part to keep this train rolling. Instead you paint this picture on social media like you’re busting your ass and I’m just off playing golf instead of stressing every second if I’m making enough money to support the lifestyle you want and feel entitled to. You paint me like I’m into myself when I want to be into all of us, be part of the bubble you’re keeping me out of. Why do you resent it so much when our son says he loves me and appreciates me and wants to spend time with me. Why do you hate it when our daughter wants to stay up and watch me eat and talk to me. I’m a husband and a father. I’m a workhorse. That’s life. I’ve told you how I feel but you tell me I’m crazy and being a crybaby. I don’t think asking you to order something for me if you’re going to spend money on dinner is unreasonable. If you really want to impress me, cook something for all of us. Marriage is a partnership. It feels like I’m doing more of the lifting than half. That’s okay. But I need you to not gaslight me and treat me like I do nothing while you do everything. That’s not cool. I’m not your dad but I feel like I’ve just taken custody of you and our kids and just get treated like crap. Please stop rolling y our eyes like it’s cringe when I try to play guitar and sing with our kids. They love it. You don’t have to but please don’t encourage them to laugh at me. This is not a contest. This is marriage. I do my part, you do your part. Your part shouldn’t be laughing at my part, thanks. Also, it’s hard to get a boner when you’re berating me. Be glad I can get it up at all when we make love. Thanks.

Honestly, make her read this; What you wrote. Its very expressive and well written and gets the point across without being mean. Souds like you need to have a serious sit down with your wife.

My heart is pounding writing this because I literally haven’t told anyone this. So I work at this one store, and I work on the sales floor; but before all that, I was just one person interviewing for a position at the store. Before I arrived for my interview, a friend of mine dared me to interview in a British accent. I said I’d do it only if they paid me, and to my surprise, they sent me like $10 through venmo (which was more than enough for me). I went into the interview with the mindset that I wasn’t gonna get hired and they inevitably hired me on the spot. Accent and all. I was nervous because I had already talked to a whole bunch of higher ups with the accent and decided to just go through with it -thinking it was only going to be a summer job. I was so wrong. It’s been like 7 months that I’ve been working there and I still use the accent to this day. When people ask me where I’m from I just tell them my hometown because I have several brits from that town whom I grew up with. The accent hasn’t really posed a problem until now cause my bf is friends with one of my coworkers so I’m gonna have to find the right time to come clean.. thanks for coming to my TedTalk EDIT1: I know that several of you guys wanted to know how I talk, so heres the link to hear me speak as both: a fraud, and as myself! Enjoy roasting me :-) https://vocaroo.com/i/s0UFHVF7Ljtu UPDATE: finally told my boyfriend about the accent and he said, and I quote, “well babe, you just gotta fake it till you make it, and get the hell out of there!” I got a lucky one, y’all! EDIT2: THANK YOU SO MUCH u/Technically-im-right FOR THE SILVER YOU BEAUTIFUL FOX, I <3 YOU AND YOUR COMMENT MADE ME BEAM FROM EAR TO EAR 💕

Fake a head injury and go back to normal. This post is hilarious, sorry OP

Fortnite burger

I unsubscribed from unpopular opinion because this was posted there every day..

(CORRECTION: I MEANT ANTI-CHOICE/PRO FORCED BIRTH) Edit: I personally am not someone who would get an abortion. Someday I would love to have babies of my own. BUT for other women, I will not judge them for what THEY do with THEIR bodies. I will NOT tell them what THEY should do with THEIR lives. What they decide is their choice & all these people who think they are God and whatever can't seem to get their heads out of their ass to realize what the new law just did for women out there. For people who are pro-birth/anti-abortion: As a women. why are you doing this to other women? As a man, why tf are you even speaking on this?

People who are pro life should be forced to take in children from unwanted pregnancies since they were the ones to decide over a woman's body. If you tell me how to use my body, you can take the responsibility. It's so fucked up because when a woman gets pregnant it affects HER mental health, HER physical health, HER finances and HER time. A woman having a kid has nothing to do with me, my life, or anyone else and their lives. Who the hell are we to tell her what to do? UPDATE: ALSO, did we completely forget the RIDICULOUS amount of money it costs to give birth in the US? For vaccines? For clothes and necessities to raise a child? So you're telling me, a country with shitty healthcare, inequality, right to firearms, racism and terrible insurance not only forces a woman to carry a child, but pay to giving birth to it, raise it in their society and clothe it JUST because some conservative MEN wants her to? It would actually make more sense that a first - world country has abortion laws, because we can afford to help the woman in any way we can. But we don't, because we are clearly smarter. Wake the fuck up, world.

My coworker has left himself logged in at work and now im posting on his behalf. &#x200B; Sorry. &#x200B; Ill log you out after this.

Uh oh, busted haha. You've got a good m8 there.

My mom has really had a hard time the past few years. When she entered menopause she gained weight and no matter how much she works out or what diet she tries she cannot drop it. She is a wonderful person, beautiful inside and out, but I could tell it was really taking a toll on her. So I started (lightly) photoshopping pictures I take of her before I send them to anyone or print them. I just nip a little here and there, slight reshaping. and smoothing out a few wrinkles, nothing drastic, but enough. Since I have started this she has started acting more confidently and has stopped making negative remarks about pictures she is in. She loves being in pictures with everyone again. It has really helped. I have not told anyone and never will.

Good on you. Just never blurt out this secret in moments of anger with your mom. It would really crush her self esteem to know that her {son} pretty DAUGHTER thinks she is so imperfect as to doctor her photos. Edited from SON —> DAUGHTER

I can't believe I am actually typing this out right now, it's making it feel very real. And before you say it, I know, I know. I am probably one of the worst human beings on this planet. Around a year ago, my older sister (27), widowed mother of 2 boys (8) and (5) decided to, against every single warning made, get drunk as shit and wreck her car into a rock embankment outside of our town. She was life flighted to a ICU, spent weeks in a coma and awoke in vegetative state. In the past year, she has SLOWLY began to see some progress. Because of this accident, I was forced to quit my job, leave my friends, move across the country and back in with my parents, to help take care of her and raise my nephews. I love them dearly, but I have never wanted to have kids, especially not forced upon me like this. She had the mind of a child now, argues about silly things, can't cook for herself, cries over everything, can't read, memory loss, partially paralyzed on her right side, has aphasia, and a LIST of other problems with me as her caregiver. She tell me how happy she is to be alive after such a bad car accident. I want to scream that I wish she would have died. Her boys are a wreck after losing their dad recently and now having a fucked up mom. My parents are spending all of their retirement savings for her treatments. I can see the years getting shaved off my dad and mom from the stress. I don't treat her any differently, I still tell her stories and laugh with her and do my best, but I hate the way I feel when I look at her. Did you even think about your boys when you got in your car? She is smiling and completely ignorant to the pain she has caused to my entire family. So I guess that's it. That's my confession. I have a deep dark hatred and resentment for someone I love. And I will never let her know. Edit: I am a female btw.. and some people have said pretty horrid and cruel things and I totally get it. But I already feel pretty fucking shitty about my feelings so you can't really make me feel any worse. Everyone else. Thank you so much for the support, advice and feedback. I've read and appreciated every comment. Alot of the medical and healthcare advice I will be talking to my parents about and hopefully the financial parts of this can be helped a bit. Thanks guys, much love.

Damn

Throwaway because I don't want my friends to know. I'm straight but I'm spending this Valentine's day alone after my divorce and I haven't had sex in almost a year. (Divorce was finalized 4 months ago.) Well I've been really horny and lonely so I decided to see if gloryholes were real and not just a porn myth. After some scouring of the web I found a supposed location of one in a local adult video store and a code phrase to access it and apparently it was free and just for fun. I decided to take a shot with it because why the fuck not. I went there and awkwardly said the code phrase to the cashier. She said, "Oh right this way." And led me to their viewing booths. She opened the door to a booth that had a "closed for maintenance sign on it." The room next to it had the same sign. I went in and she said "Have fun." There was random gloryhole porn playing on the tv in there and of course a hole in the wall. I was anxious and the thought of there being a dude freaked me out so I didn't peek to see what was on the other side. As I unzipped I saw a tongue come through the hole and wiggle around a bit then back out. Someone was definitely there. I felt like I'd come too far and I was super horny. I went over and put my dick and balls through the hole and almost immediately a hand grabbed me and started rubbing lube on me and stroking me. Eventually after I got hard from the handjob they started sucking. Honestly they gave me the best blowjob I've ever experienced. Eventually after maybe 10 minutes I knew I was going to cum (apparently the etiquette for this is you knock on the wall) so I knocked and I felt their hand squeezing my balls and my entire cock was swallowed as I came. They kept sucking for a long time and I felt my eyes cross. Finally they finished and kissed my tip so I pulled back. After catching my breath and collecting myself, dealing with the post nut clarity and shame I zipped up and left the room. On my way out I saw the cashier again. She smiled, waved and said, "Come again." I feel super nervous about it and I'm going to get tested for STDs to make sure I didn't catch anything. I don't know if it's something I'll ever do again but it was really good aside from the worry about STDs, the shame and worry about whether it was a dude or not because I honestly don't know. Edit: OK I get it. It was most likely another dude. Whatever I'll cope. "Getting your cock worshipped by a guy doesnt make u gay" -The gay guy in my inbox

Oh god thats fucking disgusting. Where was that gloryhole so i make sure i never go there accidentally

He was riding his motorcycle to work early this morning. At around 230am he crashed his bike, we're thinking he had a heart attack and that's what caused him to crash. In high school, about 13 years ago, I had to do a paper for English class. The topic was "Write a paper on either a personal hero of yours, or something that influenced you growing up." and then present it to the class. I wrote my paper on my dad. I wrote about how much I loved him, how much he cared for me, his 15 years in the Army, and how he was raising me to be a successful adult. I probably spent more time on that than any other paper I did. I was proud of it, and happy I got to read it aloud. Later that evening I mentioned the paper to my dad, told him we could do it on either a hero or something that influenced us. He asked what I did mine on. I was embarrassed so I told him I did it on a band. The last 13 years I've regretted that. The last 13 years I've wanted to tell him what I did the paper on. Just two days ago it came across my mind again. Dad. I wrote that paper on you. You're my hero, always were and always will be. I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much I loved you, and how much you meant to me. Thank you for always being there. I love you Dad. //edit// Wow. I did not expect this kind of response. Thank you everyone for your wishes and condolences. The stories you guys told down really hit close to home. Again, thank you. And if anyone needs to talk or anything send me a message : ) Update 3/26: No one is probably going to see this, so I'm really just doing this for me. Things have been real hard, as you can imagine. My mom has had it the worst. But at the same time I know things are getting better. My family isn't sobbing anymore, and my mom isn't hysterical. People still cry, but it isn't as prevalent anymore. We had a little private viewing on Thursday, it was awful. But needed I think. Yesterday was the visitation. I expected 30-40 people to show up, turns out roughly 250 people were there. It was insane. My dad apparently touched alot of lives and meant alot to alot of people. He was an engineer on the railroad the last 16 years and the railroad literally shut down all operations so the workers could come. Today is the funeral, starts in about three hours. Not really sure what to expect. I'll be speaking during the service and actually reading this story since I don't have a copy of this paper anymore. Update 4/14: Again, definently not expecting a single soul to see this. Maybe I'm just using this as a journal of sorts, I don't know. Anyway. The funeral was exactly like he would have wanted. He was a retired Soldier and was proud of his service so we had a military funeral. It began at the funeral home where somber family and friends filed in. The minister began everything and then called me up to say some things. First being something from my mom who wanted me to tell everyone what her family in Germany is doing in regards to the death. Then I told my story, the one from above. Then I finished off with the Fiddlers Green poem which is a poem about where deceased Cavalrymen go, which he was. I changed a few words around to make it more appropriate and left out the final verse. The funeral was about 40 minutes long and then the 38 car procession left to the nearby Army base where we held the military funeral. It was very nice. Minister said some words, taps, 21 gun salute, and the folded flag which my mom received. It's exactly what he would've wanted. A couple days after the funeral, my mom flew to Washington to stay with my brother and his wife. She's flying back tomorrow and then flying to Germany in a few weeks to see her family. While she's home I'll be living with her for however long she needs, as well as when she gets back from Germany. My family is doing better I think. My mom still had episodes, as do I. It's been a little harder this last week, not exactly sure why. I decided to go to the crash site where we erected a cross with his name, date of birth and death, and a sign with a poem. He worked at the railroad for 16 years and his coworkers were very affected as well. Someone stopped at the cross and put my dad's work vest around it, it was touching. I lost it right there on the off ramp from the interstate. No one has gone to see the tomb stone yet, we're waiting for my mom. Since it's on a military base the tombstones are all uniform but they let us personalize the words some. My mom let my brother and I picked the personalization. It will say, on three different lines, "Proud Veteran" "Black Horse" "Scouts Out". Black Horse being his favorite unit while he was in, and Scouts Out a sort of saying among Cavalrymen. Update 7/9: I've gotten a few messages lately asking about how I'm doing and such, it's unbelievable that a) so many people commented on this and (b) I'm still receiving messages like that four months later. Well. Things have gotten better. One of the comments here said something along the lines of "One day he'll no longer be the 1st thing you think of in the morning, he'll be the 2nd, then the 3rd, then the 4th." I guess that's where I'm at. I still think about him every day, but it isn't the first thing. I'm not sure what I said and didn't say previously and I don't want to read up, it would hurt too much. So if I repeat something, I'm sorry. We got the death certificate a while back, took longer than normal they said. His death was officially ruled accidental, but it also says his heart was probably a factor but it couldn't be proven. Apparently he didn't have but a couple bruises and some other injuries that wouldn't have been fatal. All of his motorcycle gear was on. My mom didn't tell me this initially, but sometime later. He left for work at 2am on his motorcycle. She said just a couple minutes later she heard a motorcycle stop in front of their house and their dogs perked up like he came home. She said she didn't hear him open his truck or anything. Just that a motorcycle stopped in front, and a minute or two later drove off. She thinks, and I do too, that he might not have been feeling well and turned around. That maybe he was coming home to have her take him to the hospital, then decided against it. If that was the case, I've been wondering if maybe he wasn't feeling well the last leg of the trip, he was only one or two minutes from his work. Just maybe he knew something was really wrong at the end and he tried making it to his work, he felt dizzy or something and knew he had to get there quickly for help. But then he just blacked out. We'll never know for sure, but I at least believe he came back and thought about going to the hospital. We've finally gotten a couple of the life insurance claims back so that makes my mom feel more secure financially. She was real, real scared she wouldn't get anything or not get enough to support her. But, my dad really set her up so she should be fine. One policy her purchased pays off 98% of their mortgage, it's crazy. We're expecting her to get around $600,000, and my dad's railroad pension kicked in last week, that was a real bad day for my mom. Every couple of weeks I'll have a real, real bad day so I'll stop at his cross on highway. I feel more attached to that than the military cross on base. Father's Day was terrible. I took my motorcycle there along with an ex-gf. Aside from that I guess I don't have much else to say anymore. My friends still ask about my mom and such but I'll usually try and change the subject if it gets too deep, still hurts too much to talk about. Anyway. I guess I'll update again later, probably not as long as the three months it took for this. Thanks for the continuing guys. Update 10/8: I'm still receiving messages and comments from a lot of Redditors asking how we're doing or that my story has gotten them thinking about their own loved ones. I did not expect any of this. At the time I wrote this I was a sobbing mess and just wanted to vent to myself and figured writing my feelings down would help. But here we are six months later and there are still alot of reactions coming my way. So I figured I'd do another update. But first, I want to apologize to everyone that messaged or commented and I never replied to. I responded to as many as I could but it got to be too much, so I'm sorry. Well, update. Since July, my mom managed to complete all of the life insurance paperwork with the help of an attorney. The attorney found an additional policy that we did not know about, a policy worth $500,000. So my mother ended up receiving close to $1,000,000 from all of the policies and there was another that required the bank to pay off 97% of their house. My dad wanted her to live her life exactly however she wants. He wanted her to go shopping, take trips to Germany to see her family, and never have to worry about money ever again. None of us had any idea he had so many policies, let alone what was in them. My mom is taken care of for life. The attorney she hired went with her to see a financial advisor at Edward Jones. He came up with safe, slow growth investments and put some money into CDs that will ensure her money will last for several years to come. My mother even purchased a new house last week (in cash lol), the house of her dreams. It isn't big, but it has privacy and it's wooden on the outside which is something she said she always wanted. As far as my brother and I..I'm doing better. Someone on here told me a while back, "Right now he's the first thing you think of. Eventually he'll be the second, then the third, fourth, etc." Whoever said that was absolutely correct. I still think about him everyday, mostly at night or when I'm working on someone's furnace in the basement because I'm usually alone with my thoughts (I'm in HVAC). I have several great friends that are always there for me, and a special friend that will sleep over with me on bad nights. I've been in contact with the VA about trying to see a therapist, but the paperwork to see one that isn't VA affiliated is long and arduous. My brother's wife recently found out she's pregnant. It's fantastic news obviously, but solemn as well because they'll never meet each other. I have a five year old and it worries me he won't remember his grandfather. My dad absolutely loved my son and spent alot of time with him. I'm sorry if this is rambling. It's 11pm and I'm on-call so I'm pretty exhausted. I'll for sure update again. It helps typing these things out and helps much more knowing it's helping others. Thank you all for taking the time to read my story and all of its updates. Update 12/1: My mom moved out of their house two weeks ago and it's up for sale. There's already one interested buyer and an open house tomorrow. I drove by the old house and saw the for sale sign, I got pretty emotional over that. It was strange. So many memories there. Obviously family memories, but all of my high school memories and well. Alot of memories with my best friends and various girlfriends as well. It's just..strange. Her new house is very nice. It's one of those that look small on the outside but the inside is real big. The previous owner was a carpenter by trade so he created alot of custom wood work throughout the place. It's very, very nice. Side note my mom fell on ice a few days ago and cracked her knee cap. She was supposed to go to Germany with my brother and sister in law in there weeks but the doctor had said she might not be able to fly. Not really sure why not, but that's what he said. That's all I can think of right now. I'll update again later. Update 1/5/19: It's strange to think about my dad being gone. That one day he's here in my apartment, and 10 hours later he's gone. Like, I'll never see him again. Talk to him again, hear his voice. He's ashes in an urn underground now. I just want to see him one more time. Hear him. Tell him I miss him. He's physically gone. Forever. I mean. I saw him. Then 10 hours later he's gone. And no one saw it coming. I keep wondering what his last minutes were like. My mom heard his motorcycle pull up a few minutes after he left for work and then leave after a minute. Maybe he wasn't feeling well and thought about going to the hospital? I wonder if he wasn't feeling well the whole way to work. When did he realize something was seriously wrong? How fast was he going so he could make it to work to get help? He was only one or two minutes away. Was he panicking? What was he thinking? I keep imagining that's what happened. That he was getting close to work and suddenly he started feeling like something wasn't right so he drove as fast as he could to get help but didn't make it. Did he know he wouldn't make it? What were his last thoughts? Was he only thinking about getting help, or was he thinking about his family? 2018 was awful. I lost several big parts of my life. My girlfriend moved out the same exact night he passed away. I spent most of 2018 depressed. Literally. The majority of 2018 I was sad more than any other emotion. When I was happy it didn't seem to last very long. I have an appointment with a therapist next week. I'm nervous. But so many things happened in 2018 and I don't know who else to talk to except that ex that moved out. She's still my best friend and I tell her everything, but I am still in love with her so I cannot talk to her about her. I'm just sad, and depressed. Jfjdjd

He knows man. He knows.

We aren't like best friends but we know each other pretty well. Today I noticed a pic. from my city someone posted, So I clicked on their user name and started snooping, wondering if I could figure out if I knew them and Holy Moly I sure do. How you may ask, well he...yes he, he post a lot of picture on another sub of his dog and newish adopted cat (didn't know he had a cat but this will be important soon). I started reading his comments/posts and I feel so bad for him. First of all the love of his life past a few years ago, and he came upon a little dog and he fell in love with this at the most 6lbs Chihuahua (named baby), Picture a 56year old, 6 foot 4inch biker dude with a beard that hangs down to his chest that carries a small Chihuahua in his jacket pocket or in the summer the dog goes in a fanny pack and rides with the dog on his motorcycle. Its the most adorable thing I have ever seen. Why is this sad, well like I said, I didn't know he had a cat. After reading his post its clear he has kept the info about the cat a secret, cause people made fun of him with such a small dog for his size. he told me one time about how much baby had help him after his wife past, he talked, he cried and hugged baby and if it wasn't for this little doggy he would've/and planned to kill himself. He said he planned to ride to Colorado and drive off a mountain. In the post of pic's he found this kitten wet, cold and starving. Took the cat to the vet for all its shots and he talks so passionately about his new love. I'm thinking about sending him a message on the pretense of just checking up on him since its been before Thanksgiving since I spoke to him. hoping he will say something about the cat, so I can reassure him he has nothing to hide. but I'm not sure how to really approach this subject or just leave it alone. This man has a heart of gold who helps anyone no matter what he's doing he'll stop just to listen or give a helping hand. now before anyone asked about how do I know for sure its him. I know his house and yard, in the pic's I noticed items that are in his house, his back patio with the same furniture and a smoker (that he built, it's a one of a kind) plus a ring that he always wears. I"m not even sure if I have posted this on the right sub, if this is the wrong sub. sorry please forgive me. EDIT: Thanks everyone, I did text him, Just with HI how have you been? we need to hang out some time for a couple of beers. And guess what!! he told me about the black kitten he found in Kansas on a work trip. He so proud of that little thing. He named her Momma, cause she gives him the same side look his wife would give him and that was what his nickname was for his wife.LOL. We are meeting up this weekend at our old beer joint in town. I'm happy for him, he seems like he's in a good place now.

so when he reads this on reddit how do you think he will feel

I’m glad my top post (BY FAR) is about my poop.

I weighed myself pre and post poop the other day. It was 0.6kg (1.3 pounds). If you measure yourself regularly where does my dump fall within your shitting mass distribution?

I was diagnosed with cancer a little over two weeks ago, after a regular checkup. Turns out I have a tumour on my colon that has spread to other areas (liver and lungs so far) and will require extensive chemo and surgery for any chance to live longer than 8 months I'm not having any treatment and I haven't told my wife because she'll only pressure me to get the treatment, which result in months of pain and suffering for a relatively small chance Instead, I'm making sure our last few months together are filled with only happy memories. I'm starting work later and finishing earlier each day, to make her breakfast in bed and take her on dates in the evenings My landlord I rent my workshop from has agreed to let me run my business rent free for the next 6 months, which means significantly less financial stress and I can save a lot more, so she has something to carry her over afterwards I hope she'll forgive me for taking this path

She’ll forgive you, but she’ll wonder for the rest of *her* life why you didn’t tell her you were sick. It’s your choice. And she may try to pressure you to try treatment, but that part is up to you. Edit: my first gold! Thank you

Couple days ago I found out that the guy who bullied me all throughout high school died, and honestly i couldn't be happier. My friends all tell me I'm terrible for being happy, but they have no idea what I went through because of him. He almost drove me to suicide and knowing he's dead just makes me feel better. I feel bad for his parents and I'd never wish that upon anyone to outlive their children, but I just can't help myself. Edit: Since it's coming up a lot i just want to clarify. I never wished death upon him, I know he was a terrible person and did terrible things, but I never wished the guy was dead. Edit 2: For those asking or wondering how he died, I dont know. I assume it was drugs or alcohol because the obituaries never stated anything nor was it explained on social media. I also made the assumption off of what his personality was like. Edit 3: After thinking about it all day, and reading through the comments I came to realize that 'ecstatic' wasnt the correct word. It's more relieved and indifferent. I dont know what his home life was like or what made him into the bully that he was, all I know is that all he did was bully me and make my life miserable. Could he have been different? Maybe. Could he have changed his ways since then? Maybe. It doesn't change what he did. Life happens, people live and people die. There's nothing we can do about it. Hindsight is 20/20, if I could go back and tell myself to stand up and not take it I would, but I cant. There are a lot of things I wouldve done differently regarding it, but it's done, it's in the past. Nothing can change it.

A guy who I was friends with robbed me and my boyfriend at the time, and my boyfriend was hanging onto his car as he drove away. Someone in the car elbowed him until he dropped to the asphalt and tore up his face, arms, and back. Then the dude called me and blamed me for him robbing me and threatened to come back to my house with a shotgun and kill my family. He was hit by a car and died a couple years later. Very pleased.

We’ve been together almost three years. We live together. I support us 100%. In the time we’ve been together, he’s worked maybe two months. He’s depressed and anxious and he steals all the oxygen and joy out of every room. He never wants to go anywhere but then complains that we never go anywhere. I got him an interview at my work - a moderately well paid entry level position. He refused to go, saying he wasn’t ready. Then spends time complaining about not having a job. You get the idea. Everything in our lives revolves around him and his moods. He cries, yells or just sighs incessantly. There’s no laughter or happiness in our home. I walk on eggshells all the time. I dread coming home from work. He grabbed me a few days ago and shook me so hard I’m bruised on my upper arms. The apartment is in my name, but he literally has no where to go because he has no friends and he refuses to contact his family. So he’d be homeless and I can’t do that to him (or any human really). I fantasize about being alone all the time. Like only cooking or shopping or doing anything just for myself. It would be incredible. To be able to breathe again. His birthday was last week and I saved up for a month to get him something related to his hobby. When I gave it to him, he said “i just told you I didn’t want to do this anymore. What were you thinking?” I think at that point any love I still felt for him just died. He doesn’t cook, clean, care for his dog or do anything but play video games. I’m trapped in a prison and I just don’t really care what happens to me anymore. I don’t want to die, but I wouldn’t be upset if I didn’t wake up tomorrow, if that makes sense. I know what i should do but I’m just a dumb bitch. Thanks for reading. Typing it out helps. Edit: welp this reached the front page and now I’m super uncomfortable with everything so I’m not going to be posting anymore. I appreciate all the advice - the tough love too. Hopefully I’ll be back with a happy update in the future. Thanks for everything, Reddit.

This won’t get better. You have one life - live yours, dump him and move on

edit: squishies are a type of soft squishy toy thing? its hard to describe but you just. squish it. it's almost like a plush so. my girlfriend and i have been together 10 months now, but we've known eachother since 1st grade. anyways, my girlfriend kept giving me squishies, on my birthday, out of the blue, and recently on Christmas, despite me never expressing any want or need for them. honestly i didn't know much about them before she started giving them to me. Yesterday she told me that when she was recovering from self harm, squishies were one of the only things that helped her, and that she was giving them to me because she wanted to see me recover. I'm two months clean, and i almost cried when she told me. i'm so lucky to be dating her, i love her so much.

I don't know what a squishy is, but this is a sweet story either way.

Sad truth, or maybe it’s just me and my circle of friends. Somehow, I also value anonymous opinions over social media ones too, before I deleted all of them.

Reddit is my favorite so far but godamn the people on here are judgey

For those who are asking, their channel is [Cirrhosis Safari!](https://m.youtube.com/channel/UCbM7uQ8QNH3JE7PhokjErRQ)

But did you smash that like button and subscribe?

I was honestly shocked when he told me his was into the idea of pegging and wanting to try it. He's a very old fashioned and masculine man's man so not the type at all you'd imagine would be into such things. I figured why not? I've seen him fuck me it doesn't look hard and I'm not the one taking it (thankfully he dropped the idea of being in my ass years ago) so why not? Well we went to the sex store, bought a strap on, bondage gear and plenty of lube and gave it a shot. Well it was hard to ease it into him but we finally got it in there. He seemed happy and once he loosened up I really started going to town on him. He was tied down and had a ball gag in. Which is new but it's what he wanted. It was hard getting it into him at first but eventually we got there and I started getting into it and really went to town on him. He was moaning really loud and had multiple orgasms from what I could tell but then eventually he shook his head to tell me it was time to stop. So I slowly pulled out the strap on and liquid poop came gushing out of him like a river. All over our beautiful bed, our sheets, the sex towel we laid down and my legs and feet. It wouldn't stop coming out of him so I did the only thing I could think of, I shoved the strap on back in to stop the flow when made him scream loudly behind his ball gag and really only made it slowly leak out. Then I threw up, all over his back and ass and he threw up all over the ball gag and nearly choked on his own vomit but thankfully I was able to release it so he could breathe but of course he continued gagging and vomiting as did I until we were both done. We both were in tears, crying and in shock. He weakly asked me to untie him so I wiped the shit and vomit off of my hands and I did then slowly pulled the strap on out of his still leaking asshole. We both stood there for a moment still crying and gagging occassionally. He said, "What do we do?" I told him let's just say fuck it and strip everything, throw it out and clean it as best we can. We both jumped in the shower to hose ourselves off then I opened the bedroom door to get garbage bags. Our dog was at the door and missed us so he rushed into the bedroom and before I could stop him immediately started licking up the diarrhea, vomit, lube and cum mixture. This of course caused my husband and I to painfully gag and dry heave more. I grabbed the dog and sent him outside and we got everything into bags, took off the mattress protector to wash it and threw the bags into the trash, cleaned the carpet where it spilled. Then showered again and brushed our teeth and re-made the bed and sprayed air freshener and lit candles. During the whole process which took hours we both broke down and cried multiple times. We went to sleep without ever saying a word to eachother and barely said anything to eachother this morning before work. I haven't seen him yet but I don't know what he's feeling or if we're okay in our marriage now. I honestly am so disgusted still by the whole experience and I don't know if I can ever bring myself to do that again. Edit: This has really blown up. I'm glad people can find humor in it at least. Also, yes I am aware anal douching is a thing and that there's prep involved but apparently my husband is less informed. Literally over 100 comments are "YoU nEeD tO dOuChE yOuR aSsHoLe." I know. I will tell him. Edit 2: We talked it out. We're fine. I am going to get back on that horse and peg him again! He's going to try putting it in my ass too. He finally talked me into it. I figure things can't go any worse than this. Edit 3: [update](https://www.reddit.com/r/confessions/comments/sllvfk/update_on_me_pegging_my_husband_more_disaster_we/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share)

I am so sorry but tour tragedy is very funny, just take it easy

My brother is 6 years old. I am 28. To make things as simple as possible, my parents suck. Like, they really, really suck. Last January, I had just started my last semester of nursing school. One day I was walking out to my truck to go to class, and DSS is in the driveway. They tell me that my brother is going into foster care tomorrow and I’m the only option left, so they wanted to ask me before they proceeded. I didn’t even know my brother had been taken or anything that had been going on. Again, my parents suck and I had blocked them and shut off all contact for a while. Apparently, 2 months prior, my brother’s mom had another baby that was born in withdrawal from meth, benzos, and suboxone. My dad also failed for meth and benzos. Unfortunately, the baby died. My brother was also removed that day. He had went to another family member initially, but she could not handle him and there was no other family members that could pass a drug test. Except me. I decided to take him. They warned me. He’s violent, his behaviors are horrible, he has killed animals. I took him any way. I hadn’t saw my brother much in the last couple of years, but I decided to give it a shot. It was a night mare. He was 5 and had been expelled from kindergarten twice. I tried to enroll him in kindergarten at a different school, but he couldn’t function a day without hitting, cussing, destroying class rooms, throwing stuff. One day, his kindergarten teacher had to evacuate the classroom because he was destroying it. I had to put him in a school for “children who can’t function in public school”. He went there for 9 months. He hit me. Kicked me. Spit on me. Screamed at me. Actively defied me and laughed about it. I had to repotty train him. He had been having accidents prior to coming to me. I filed an investigation for sexual assault, which I 100% know he was, but “no evidence, blah blah”. I started him in therapy. He has ODD, ADHD, RAD, and PTSD. I had to leave class every day to pick him up. I was scared I was going to fail, but somehow I didn’t. I got a job in the emergency department, and had to leave a lot to pick him up. Scared I was going to get fired. But didn’t. I tried everything. I cried and prayed more than I ever have. I read 100 different parenting books. I went to therapy for myself because it was so much and I felt like my 2 children weren’t getting any of the attention they deserved because what little I had to pour I poured into him. I started going to therapy with him weekly. One day I went to the court house to relinquish my custodial rights. I just couldn’t take it anymore. 2 days later I took it back and kept telling myself “don’t give up. Be who you needed”. My brother hasn’t had any accidents in a year. He hasn’t harmed any animals. He had to repeat kindergarten, but he has repeated it in public school and I haven’t had to pick him up in over 6 months. He can now count to 100 when before he couldn’t even recognize the numbers between 1 and 10. He can read when before he couldn’t even recognize any letters of the alphabet. He says please and thank you and listens when he is told to do something or to stop doing something. He doesn’t kick or hit or bite or scream. And just last week he walked across the stage as a kindergarten graduate. A day I often wondered would even be possible. I believe my brother, my son, is going to grow up and do very big things. I’m glad I didn’t give up. I’m glad I could be who I needed.

You should be very proud of yourself

I’m the eldest of 4 kids in a family of six and growing up we had a beautiful albino chinchilla named Dusty. Dusty was an awesome little pet to have as a kid. Very sweet, never bit anyone, loved to cuddle and run around “digging” tunnels in the bedsheets. He had this really big cage in our guest bedroom that was connected to my room and every time someone would walk past his cage, he would run to the gate hoping to be taken out. If you opened the gate he would just hop right into your hand.. anyway great pet. So about 3 days after I got my drivers license as a 16 year old, I noticed that one of Dusty’s eyes were tearing a little bit which I hadn’t seen happen before. Feeling like a brand new adult with my new drivers license, I decided to take it upon myself to bring him to the vet and see what was up. So, I put him into a brown paper grocery bag with his favorite blanket, made some air holes, stapled it shut, and strapped him into the passenger seat of my family’s van. Fast forward maybe a half hour and I’m sitting in the vets office holding Dusty feeling like the most responsible adult ever. The vet is an exotic animals vet and takes a look at him then asks to do an X-ray. So she sedates him a little, does the X-ray, hands him back to me and leaves the room. Adult level 9000 as I sit petting him until he wakes back up. So vet comes back in and sits next to me on the little bench in the checkup room and starts petting him in my lap. She’s telling me how wonderful he is and how lucky I am to have such a great little pet, asking me my favorite memories of him, all this. So we are talking and finally I ask her something like okay so how much do chinchilla eye drops cost because I’ve got to get going and she smiles gently saying something like I wish eyedrops could fix this. She gives me a hug and starts to explain. Dusty was not bread responsibly and had some kind of internal deformity involving the roots of his teeth putting pressure on his eyes and brain. This would eventually cause an early death. I couldn’t believe it. I remember starting to cry and putting Dusty back in his grocery bag with his blanket and asking if the vet had a stapler I could use to close it again. I paid cash to the receptionist from my babysitting money and got into my car crying all the way home. When I got home I sat in the car for awhile in the garage trying to gather myself as Dusty chewed on his bag. Looking back I’m not really sure why, but in the car I decided not to tell my family the news. The vet said Dusty wasn’t in pain despite his tearing eye and we wouldn’t have to put him down. She didn’t know how long exactly he had left, but guessed maybe a year. I guess I figured I didn’t want my family to be sad every time they played with him or passed by his cage knowing his time was limited. I wanted the rest of his little life to be normal. Eventually I brought him back in the house and put him in his cage. I went later that day to Petco and bought rodent eye drops as a coverup and “proudly” told my family that night how I brought Dusty to the vet to check his eye and lied saying the doctor gave me eyedrops and told me eye irritation is common in chinchillas. Dusty lived 3 more years after that, 2 years longer than the vet had expected. He passed away just shy of his 10th birthday. On the morning he passed I told my dad what had actually happened at the vet. He told me I was so much more of an adult than I knew. ~ [Edit: Thank you all for all the support, stories, and kind words. I never thought this post would get so popular. I’m sorry for making many of you cry (sometimes in non ideal places), but my heart is so warm knowing my experience touched so many people 🌷 you all are wonderful]

Awe this made me cry: (

My ex and I divorced six years ago. It was an ugly divorce. Our sons are now 9 and 13. We live two miles a part and we get the kids one week on, one week off. After the divorce, we had no real meaningful relationship other than talking about the kids, scheduling and stuff. I had no idea or interest in her personal life and she was the same with me. This last year, she started acting strange. She started being more chatty and friendly with me. I wasn't interested in having a social relationship with her. &#x200B; On Monday, I picked the kids up from school for my week with them and she texted me around 8PM saying how I was the only person who she trusted 100% with the kids and I was a great dad and she thanked me for it. Then she told me to tell the boys that she loved them. That was weird because she would call my eldest to say goodnight every night that they were with me, but didn't on that night. I drive by her place on my way to work and noticed her car was still parked on the street, but assumed she was working from home or sick. I had texted her in the morning about picking up my son's school book that he left at her house and hours had past with no reply. That was very strange because she would reply within minutes if it had something to do with the kids. &#x200B; I started to grow a bit worried and called her. Again, I know nothing about her social life so it wasn't like I could call her friends because I don't know any of them and her parents live out of state. I left a vm telling her that if she didn't call or text me back by 2PM then I was going to her house to make sure she was okay. I left work early and went to her house. There were packages at her door which was another red flag. She would never leave packages unattended outside. I called, texted and knocked at the door and there was no response. I let myself in and called out for her. I went into her bedroom and saw this body with a large blood stain on her shirt and something that looked like a phone in her hand. &#x200B; That wasn't a phone. It was a gun and she had shot herself in the heart. Called the cops and they questioned me for three hours and told me they would reach out to her parents as I was no longer next of kin. I had to pick up my kids and kept a stone face as I was still processing the situation. &#x200B; On Wednesday, my eldest started complaining that his mom was not replying to his text messages and demanded that I take him to her house (which is still all taped up). He thinks she's ignoring his texts or that her phone is broken and wants to tell her to fix it. I asked to speak with his principal in private and told him that he would be missing school next week. He asked what in the world could be so important that he should miss a week of school. I told him his mom just committed suicide the other day and I haven't told him yet. &#x200B; Her mom has been calling me constantly asking to speak to the boys, but I told her I haven't told them yet because things have been moving too quickly. My eldest is picking up that something has happened and now the 9 year old is picking up vibes too. My 13 year old is demanding that we go to his mom's and even threaten to ditch school if I didn't do it. The 9 year old wouldn't let me drop him off at school and had a meltdown. &#x200B; I decided to tell them what happened Saturday because I am not prepared to deal with the madness coming my way. My 13yo will lose his shit.

The only best thing you can do in this worst situation is that Tell your kids right now.. Because You can avoid it for few days but you have to pay additional price for the delay.

Flashback, to about three years ago, I was in a relationship with this girl who I loved so much. I would've done everything I could for her, and I always did. I did my best to keep her happy, but she was going through her own personal battles. She lost her dad before we started dating, and her mom died of cancer while we were dating. She faced a lot, and I tried to comfort her. I think that maybe i started doing too much, because eventually my parents started getting stricter on me, and I used to disobey them to try to make her happy. Fast forward a few months, and there was this one time where she got mad because I didn't tell her I was preparing a surprise gift for her. She got mad, tore up the gift and broke everything in it that could have been broken. My eyes got watery at how she treated something I worked hard for. She told me to "stop being a little b-tch" and punched me in the face. This caught me off-guard as she had never done this before. But this was just the start. Every day or two, she would proceed to punch me in the face or anywhere else twice or three times a day. And I would just take it. I never argued about it, and I never mentioned it to anyone. There were several times that I seemed bruised, but I would just say that I got it while training (I had started getting into working out). She had gone from being extremely emotionally abusive, to physically and I didn't know how to handle it. I wanted to leave, but I was scared to as she had always wanted to kill herself, and I never wanted that to happen. I stayed for 2 years, until she went abroad to study. This is when i finally got to see how it felt to live without the constant fear of pain. Now back to the present day. I met this wonderful and perfect girl who has made me beyond happy. One day she was turning really quickly to ask me a question, with her hand up. I instantly jumped away to that and she looked at me confused. My eyes instantly got watery, and she began asking what had happened. I opened up to her for the first time about it, and I feel relieved. I just feel terrible knowing that this is how I might react to sudden movements for a long time. TL;DR: Ex-girlfriend was emotionally and physically abusive. New girlfriend moved suddenly, and i jumped away and teared up. Opened up about my past.

(If you are a guy, OP) it’s important to know that men can suffer from spousal abuse too, and that you are not alone in this. I’m so sorry you went through that. It’s hard to get over the things that boyfriends/girlfriends do to you, but you can do it. It takes a strong heart and mind but it can be done. You just have to know that you didn’t deserve that, and you are worthy of love and so much more than that. 💜

26f. I was picked up by a stranger from school posing to be my dad's friend. Saying that he would drop me off to the airport to catch a flight with my dad. Not only did I actually have to travel with my dad that day, but this man somehow knew my dad was getting off early from work (he told me that morning) and that he had to go fishing with his friend (he did this a lot). He told me that my dad sent him to pick me up and meet him directly at the airport. I believed him, convinced my teachers I knew him (because I was excited to go the airport) and left with him. I was held in captivity for 3 years. I was raped, beaten, starved. 11 year old me had learnt to make him trust me. It started with us going around in his car, although I had to sit in the backseat and stay quiet the whole time. He let me come into his kitchen and make food for myself, he let me clean his house. The day we went to feed the ducks at the park I ran. I ran as fast as my weak legs could carry me, because of the crowd; I think he lost me. I begged a family for help, telling them I was kidnapped and I wanted to go home. I told them my name, my school's name and my parents' names. Long story short; they caught him, he killed himself. I was back with my dad, my sisters, my dogs. I'm now happily married to my wife of 4 years, still undergoing therapy, have a good job, and a baby on the way. EDIT: I'm very sorry for the last line. I realise it doesn't end well for most and I got lucky. But the only way I kept going was telling myself "I'm going to escape", and then "I'm going to get better" "I'm going to love myself again" "I'm going to get past my trauma". Since this worked for me I assumed saying "it will end well" would work for other people too, of course it wasn't right though.

My mom set up a password with me that only I knew. She said if there was ever an emergency and she needed to send someone to pick me up she would tell them the password. A woman approached me after school said my mom sent her to pick me up. Had my moms name and everything but didn’t know the password so I didn’t go with her. I ended up going to a friends whose parents called my mom Turns out my mom did send her but forgot to tell her the password. Good intentions but she was proud of me for remembering

My boss is generally a dick. I noticed his wife (who also works at the company) came up as a recommended friend on Snapchat, I copied the user name and added her on my burner Snapchat. After a few messages and a few fake selfies she has told me she is single and sent some damn good reveling pictures. I feel a bit guilty now but damn she is hot.

If she’s that quick to send you those pics guarantee she’s sending dirtier ones to other dudes

The other day I told all my girlfriend that my penis was over 7 inches.... I lied. In reality, I have a micropenis. I feel horrible about it (I feel absolutely terrible about lying, especially to this girl I like a lot), but can't bring myself to tell her the truth bc it'll make her not like me anymore. I'm afraid she'll may fun of me. I feel so much shame surrounding the fact I have a micropenis. I'm afraid I'll never get a women to love me, she'll go out with me until she sees it and then will just laugh.

TIL that [u/MisterWhisler\_](https://www.reddit.com/user/MisterWhisler_/) forgot to log out of his work computer, and now a coworker is busting his balls by creating this post, as well as another one posted two hours ago titled, "**TIFU by forgetting to log out of reddit" @** [www.reddit.com/r/tifu/comments/cj2ox1/tifu\_by\_forgetting\_to\_log\_out\_of\_reddit/](https://www.reddit.com/r/tifu/comments/cj2ox1/tifu_by_forgetting_to_log_out_of_reddit/) &#x200B; (Edit: fixed OP's username)

This was the late 80s and I was 14/15 and things weren't a great time to be a gay teenager not that it excuses what I did. I was so afraid of being outed that I started a relationship with my then bestfriend's sister. My friends were constantly messing with me about not having slept with her and calling me gay. They were just joking but I took it so seriously that I convinced her sex and I poked a hole in the condom hoping to get her pregnant so that I'd have proof... She did end up pregnant and when I found out the reality of what I did really hit me.. She just thought the condom didn't work and I never told her I did it on purpose... She was forced to go to an alternative school and eventually dropped out to have the baby. Her and her family moved away with the baby and I never kept in contact with them... I've always felt like a pos for ruining her life and abandoning my kid.

Wow, **THAT** is a confession. Holy shit dude.

As the title says, I get scam / spam calls all the time. I am very polite and say that I'm sorry but this is my work phone and I'm interested in talking with them but I can only talk on my personal phone. The guys phone number who I give seriously screwed me a couple years back after being life long best friends. Fuck that guy. Welcome to spam call hell. Edit: Okay. Explanation time. So I’ve known this dude my whole life. We were best friends for 16 years. For probably the past 5ish years before we parted ways we dreamed of running a business together. He moves to another part of the state about 5 hours away. And one night he calls me up and says he found a business for us to run together. The time had come. He’s found what seems like a perfect opportunity. So I pack up my bags, get my now wife (then girlfriend) on board and move to an area where we know no one and I have no job opportunities. But it was my dream so why not! Literally sign a lease. Moved my stuff in to a house we’re sharing. The day after I move in he tells me he’s been working on another business and it’s taking off and tells me without warning he’s not doing business with me. It really hurt me. But he was my best friend. So I moved on and tried to make a life for myself in this strange place. Over the next couple years he starts hanging out with a new crowd, doing drugs (weed and cocaine), and starts saying pretty rude things to me about how I’ve done nothing with my life and I’m becoming a real loser. I’m infuriated. But I didn’t let him know that. Fast forward a few months. I set up a hard to plan weekend with all my closest friends to come to our house and at the end I was to propose to my now wife. Well the night of the big engagement she said YES! I’m over the moon! What does he do? Invites all these new friends over and they crash the party, do drugs in the bathroom, eat the food that I made from scratch for the night and only had enough for my friends. Then 20 minutes after all the food is gone and I have a new fiancé, he decides that they’re gonna go to a bar and ditches me with the mess and lack of food. I didn’t tell him I was furious. Instead I pretended everything was okay, letting him think he’d be my best man in the wedding. Then once our shared lease was up, I moved out into a new place with my fiancé. Again, I let him think he was still in the wedding. I sent out invites and he doesn’t get his (hmm wonder why?) and I say it should be in the mail. But as the wedding gets closer I talk to him less and less. Finally I just cut him off cold turkey. No explanation. Complete and total radio silence. I did this because I wanted him to go the rest of his life wondering what happened and why I abandoned him. He didn’t deserve closure. But, I’m still mad. Thus why I do this relatively harmless piece of revenge. Fuck him. Clarification: There was plenty of other stuff he did that I called him out on. But I always got those apologies that go “yea that’s my bad, but you did this so I’m not in the wrong. So you’re bad”

you can’t post this and not tell us what he did

That's basically it. When in public places she likes to give stealth blowjobs but when it's too busy for that we go to the accessibility washrooms together and do it there. Everyone assumes I am helping her do her business. She doesn't actually need help, she just wanted a hearty load. Edit: for the people waiting of receipts, some of you who watch the news might know southern Ontario got wrecked by a storm yesterday. We are still without power here, only our emergency generator which powers the missus' medical stuff. I charged our phones at a Walmart while picking up a couple of coolers and ice bags to save our freezer and fridge stuff. I'll hit you guys up after we get power back. And for the record the power outage fried the God damn water heater so I had an ice shower today. If my balls shrink any further they'll turn into a black hole.

Sounds like you found some hot wheels.

[UPDATE] https://reddit.app.link/8M1Lt72Kn1 ... You, yes you, woman with the charming smile who acts so friendly in the street. You know I can hear you scream at and beat your teenage daughter through the shared wall, right? I can hear her cry and gasp for air as you choke her. I can hear you screaming at her for coughing for dear life afterwards. I am aware she cannot leave the house alone, ever, since you homeschool her and never let her leave. But you know I called the police on you 2 days ago. What you dont know is that i've called the non-emergency number as well and had them make up a file of all your abuse of the past few months (when I moved in). You also dont know CPS will be visiting you soon... And that I've started logging everything you do since my call. You hit a high score with 7 different timestamps today! And it's not even after dinner yet. Congratulations, I wrote them all down. You disgust me and I spit on you. I will be recording and logging EVERYTHING and calling the police on you whenever I hear that girl scream. Because she cant. Fuck you. I hope you get hit by a bus and die. Edit: slowly.

Remember to post updates

My ex used to use a specific shampoo and over time i noticed that every time i smell this shampoo on other people i automatically think of her and this got me planning.. For my current girlfriend, every time we got down to business i put on a cologne that i saved specifically for those times. No matter how spontaneous the action was, i found the time to put on a puff or two of this perfume secretly and then continue. After weve been going on for couple months, i began to do tests - i put this perfume on when casually walking in the kitchen past her, and just sat down in the living room. Soon enough, after couple minutes she got here and initiated sexy times! Now i use it ocassionally (im very careful not to overuse it so it doesnt spoil the effect) when i want to get hee going, and it works well enough :) My favorite is putting it on before going out to a public place, and watching her get super worked up and unload at home

What if OP's girlfriend likes that cologne, and is using operational conditioning to make him wear it more?

Title kinda says it all.

That’s some dedication right there

Sorry if this doesn't belong here. I don't have anyone else I can tell. I'm 19 and a guy. My mom married my stepdad when I was 14 and we've always gotten along. My dad died when I was 11 and to be honest I'm still working through the relationship we had. I've always had this fantasy that he was an amazing dad but if I'm honest he was abusive. He made me fight a 13 year old when I was 10. When I said I was scared he told me I was being a pussy. When I didn't win he was disappointed in me. When my mom married my stepdad we kept to ourselves at first but he's honestly twice the man my dad was. It's hard to say that but it's true. The one thing he said to me before he married my mom was that he'd never hurt us and always protect us. It's been 5 years and he's kept his promise. He's always been amazing to my mom and me and I admit that he spoils me sometimes. He'll take care of my chores for me and gets me whatever I want even if I don't ask him for it. If he hears me talking about something he'll just get it for me. He always asks if I have enough money and if I don't he'll transfer money into my checking account. We don't really talk about personal stuff but he's always said I can talk to him about anything whenever I feel like it. Today we were at the store and some older guy accused me of giving him a dirty look while we were in the parking lot. I didn't know what he was talking about and told him I didn't even look at him but he shoved me to the ground. My stepdad jumped in so fast that I didn't even see what happened. I heard him hit the guy and when I got up the asshole was on the ground looking scared and holding his nose. My stepdad was shouting at him in a scary voice "You don't ever put your hands on him." He helped me up and the guy got back in his car and sped away. After that he didn't want me to leave his sights in the store. The whole way home he kept apologizing that he didn't step in earlier and telling me he never wanted me to see him fight. I've never even seen get mad or raise his voice. It was scary but it also made me feel so weird. I can't explain it but it feels like I finally know how much he loves me. We never say it to each other but I always knew how he feels. When we got home I told him I love him for the first time and he gave me the hardest hug I've ever had and I almost started crying. tl:dr: My stepdad fought someone to protect me and it opened my eyes about our relationship Edit: I'm overwhelmed by all the nice comments. I wish I had time to answer them all before I go to work but I'll be late if I do. Thank you to everyone for the comments and awards!

You've got a fuckin great step dad my dude

Used to be a centrist, slightly left leaning. My wife is a non-white legal immigrant, and the amount of bullshit we’ve had to go through to have her be in the country with me is astounding. We also lived in a pretty conservative area during 2015-2016, and I got to witness a fair amount of racism toward her. When they called the election for Trump a few of our neighbors walked down to the end of the court, stood in front of our house (the only one on that street occupied by a brown person) and lit firecrackers, cheering and yelling. We found a big pile of dog shit on our front porch the next morning. My family has a lot of conservatives, both Trump supporters and some never-Trumpers, and we tried being very non-confrontational with them: the idea was for my wife to be an immigrant in their lives that they were forced to love, which would hopefully break the caricature of immigrants as murderers and drug traffickers. She wound up being used as the example to justify their hate. Like if someone accused them of racism, they’d use her as a shield: “I love this one particular brown person, so obviously I’m not biased against them as a group” followed by a bunch of blatantly racist Fox News talking points. They love my family, they just want families that look like mine to be as rare as possible. We got sick of it. After struggling with these issues (and her green card, which has been going through “additional review” ever since shortly after the inauguration) we moved to a super liberal area and just disengaged from all the conservatives in our lives. We’ve never been happier. I can’t see Trump supporters on the news or in social media anymore without a great swelling of bile in my throat. I think I legit hate them as a group. The hypocrisy and ignorance are just boundless and I can’t fucking stand it. There’s nothing substantive to their ideas: it seems like nothing has to work or be consistent; anything that is pissing off liberals is doing its job. I can’t imagine being in that camp and not being an utterly shit human being. I’ve never been so consistently angry at anyone or anything in my life, and I can’t imagine that it’s ever going to go away. So I cut myself off from them. And I don’t miss them one bit. Fuck them. *Edit: Some of these comments were actually really helpful. There appear to be quite a lot more calm, reasonable, non-spiteful conservatives out there than I had given credit for. Legitimately, thank you for your perspective. I’ll try to take it to heart. There were also a few hundred people who commented (or PMed, oh, the PMs!) helpful stuff like invitations to suck their dick, or ideas on how best to kill myself. And I guess I should thank you too, because I’m not angry anymore. I’m just kind of amazed and sad. The barrel truly has no bottom. “So I had some bad experiences with conservatives, and it left a bad taste in my mouth. I’ve been struggling with being angry about it and -“ “NUH UH SNOWFLAKE, THAT SHIT NEVER FUCKING HAPPENED YOU SOY-BOY CUCK! YOURE MAKING IT UP! YOU’VE NEVER HAD A BAD EXPERIENCE WITH TRUMP SUPPORTERS EVER YOU COMMIE DIPSHIT! WE’RE A TOLERANT AND LOVING PEOPLE BY NATURE AND NO ONE IN A RED HAT WOULD EVER DO ANYTHING RACIST SO GTFO MY COUNTRY WITH YOUR ALIEN WIFE AND MONGREL KIDS! YOU’D SEE WE’RE GREAT PEOPLE IF YOU HADN’T LET THE MEDIA BRAINWASH YOU AGAINST US, AND I HOPE YOUR FAMILY GETS CANCER!” It’s like a fractal made of irony. And assholes. And I can’t stop staring at it in a combination of awe and horror.

All political affiliation aside, Socrates believed that ignorance was the root of all evil done in this world.

Karma is a bitch mom and dad. Thanks for always putting me in the middle of your drama as a kid. So sad that you two found it amusing to act like children while forcing me into being the adult. Well now the tables have turned. You're both old and in need of someone to take care of you. Obviously wasnt going to be me. Hope you two enjoy seeing eachother for the rest of your miserable lives and you can figure it out. Waiting to get the phone call of "Did you know your mother/father is in the same nursing home?!" :' ) Ah, I'm gonna sit back now and enjoy my cold one.

Arriving in theaters right between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, “Parents Trapped”. Michael Douglass and Jane Fonda play former spouses who are put in the same nursing home 40 years after a bitter divorce. Will they kill each other, or will nature do it for them? All the fun of Se7en- with the sexiness of The Golden Girls. - Gene Siskel Cocoon meets War of the Roses, thumbs up - Roger Ebert

I have been with my wife for 14 years. She is an amazing spouse, partner, and mother. She is a great woman and I’m happy with the beautiful family we’ve made. That being said, my one true love is a woman I was with right before I met my wife. This woman and I dated for 3 years. She changed my life with her love. She introduced me to so much. When we were together everything was electric. I could listen to her talk for hours and just enthralled by her. She was the only person I trusted enough to poor my heart out to. Even my wife I can’t do this with. She was my perfect match. Compatible in every way. No one has made me laugh like her, made me feel pure unadulterated happiness as her, and I have never been with a lover that I have felt as physically and emotionally connected as her. If there are soulmates, she was mine. In the short time we were together we planned out our lives,together forever. Unfortunately, she needed to leave the country. Her parents were in an accident killing her father and leaving her mother in need of care. I was serving military commitment fresh out of college and I couldn’t go with her. We tried to make it work but when it became clear we wouldn’t be together for another 3 years. She became more withdrawn after the accident and resented me for not being able to be with her. I could feel the separation was slowly destroying us, so I set her free. It broke me but it seemed like the best thing for both of us. I don’t think I’ll ever forget our time together. As much as I love my wife, I know the love between us is not as real as me and my ex’s love. I married my wife out of convenience and I grew to love her. A few years back I got into contact with my ex again. She is married too with kids but she has also never forgotten and is still in love with me and wishes things could’ve been different. We talk sometimes nothing is ever inappropriate, I of course would choose my wife and family over her any time but if I saw her in person again, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be worried something inappropriate might happen.

Wow, heavy confession.

My life sucks. But thank you to anyone that does bother replying to any of my posts! EDIT: Just woken up to the most amazing comments, honestly led here in the dark reading them all made me cry, thank you, thank you to whoever gave me gold. I hope you all have a great new year.... I'm making sure i havnt missed anyone! Edit 2: I am completely blown away by the response to this I'm glad to see lots of people getting upvoted to! And thanks to Every One that gave me gold, I didn't deserve that! But so much did I just need to hear some kind words. You have all cheered me up on a really crappy day!

I'm partially here because I need upvotes to post on an advice subreddit, and partially because I understand. I feel the same way, it's nice when people genuinely respond when you feel you need someone one way or another :)

Around 4 years ago, I was a vendor on the darknet. It was a relatively shortlived thing, I was just doing it because I was too lazy to get a job and at the time didn't want to settle for the 9-to-5 thing. I wanted to start my own business, and use the drug money as a start up. I had been using myself for years, along with that I met lots of people into the dealing scene, and eventually started dealing myself. I have a lot of anxiety though, so I hated meeting up with people in parking lots and I definitely didn't want anyone to know where I lived. &#x200B; That's when I read about the Silk Road, and Ross Ulbricht being caught. Got obsessed with the idea of it, got obsessed with learning OPSEC, all with the goal of eventually using my connections to start up my store. &#x200B; Well, after a couple of months I did. I started my store with 3 drugs: ketamine, meth, and some outdoor weed my buddy was getting for super cheap. All was going good for a few months, had a couple thousand get stolen in an exit scam, but I had about $25,000 saved at that point so it didn't ruin my life like a few vendors I knew of. Eventually, I met a local connect that came into town only once a week, but had fucking ANYTHING I wanted. Mescaline, LSD, mushrooms, PCP, even... and... fentanyl. At the time, people weren't REALLY cutting heroin with fentanyl. I mean, I'm sure people did plenty, but it was not nearly as commonplace now. People just... did fentanyl. And still do. &#x200B; I put all my addresses into an excel spreadsheet along with their name, zip code, order, along with the amount. At the time, I was selling some super white powdered mescaline. The fentanyl was also a white powder. Very similar consistency. Long story short, my Excel fucked up, or I fucked up, and about 7 peoples mescaline orders were filled in as fentanyl orders. &#x200B; They all went out, I didn't notice and kept doing my thing for a few days. After about 5 days, someone contacted me and told me their friend died from my mescaline. I immediately called bullshit, and went to check my order log and scale up how much I had of my mescaline left. Well, I had about 11 grams more than I should have. I still don't know how the fuck it could have happened. I wasn't a user, but I was definitely high off dabs. &#x200B; I went to check my order log on the market to see if anyone had finalized on their purchase, and a couple of them were.. but none from a specific day. Including the person that messaged me. No one that had purchased mescaline that day had finalized their orders. The market I was on also had a feature to see the users last activity, and none of them had logged in in at least 3 days. Most 2 days. &#x200B; I immediately deactivated my vendor account. I didn't even need confirmation, I knew what happened. I knew I just killed several people. I sold the rest of my drugs, converted my bitcoin to cash, and moved the fuck away. Didn't speak to anyone for weeks. Found a job in a restaurant, living in a city I always wanted to. I haven't touched drugs since that day. I haven't had anything to do with that life since then. &#x200B; I still think about them. Every night. I saved their names and Googled them a few days later. I was able to find info on 4 customers that definitely died. One customer shared it with a friend. They both died. I don't know why I'm even posting this, mainly because I have no one to tell, and even if I did, I don't think I could. I spend my days sober. Clocking into work. Clocking out of work. Coming home. Playing video games. I'm a complete recluse. People I used to know have distanced themselves immensely, and I know it's because I'm a shell of my former self. I can't help it. Could I even tell a therapist about this? I don't feel like I deserve to be alive. Am I really living anyway? I don't even know anymore. Maybe this will help me feel better.

Now *that's* a fuckin' confession.

So I have a beloved kitty named pixy. She was around 4 when I found her on the street. She had a rubber band tightened on half her tail. I spent 2 weeks feeding her until she was comfortable enough to let me near her, she didn't trust anyone. I took her in, cleaned her up, and got the dead portion of her tail amputated. After 5 years, she finally warmed up to people and she became so sweet and friendly. It took her years to be comfortable around strangers. Last month, she was out for her daily stroll around the neighborhood and immediately came back in through the kitty door 20 minutes later. Usually she is out and about for 2-3 hours. She had 2 small holes in her chest, and one near her butt. She was completely frightened and was crying/meowing, she wouldn't even let me go near her for the first 5 minutes. I knew for certain that she was shot with metal bb's. I take her in my car and start driving to the vet, but took a quick detour around the neighborhood, I was going to take the long way to see if I could find the culprit. Sure enough I see a kid on a scooter standing on his driveway, with a Co2 powered bb gun, aiming in the drainage cavity by the sidewalk. I see cats in there all the time. It was then I knew who the culprit was. I parked the car, got out, walked over to him and said "I'm telling your parents that you are shooting cats." He replied "they are pests, they told me I could." The smug little look on his face threw me over the edge, I slapped the fuck outta this bitch, and kick sweeped his legs out from under him and watched him fall flat on his ass. I then picked up his gun and smashed it on the ground. A small part of me wanted to finish him off with a stomach kick for good measure, but I'm fucking 25 so I looked both ways before crossing the street, and fucking **bolted**. As I hopped in my car and sped away, I heard him shreaking in the distance. My kitty was treated, and is doing OK. She is a lot more skittish and spends less time outside. Edit: in case your wondering, I'm pretty sure the cops were called. When I came back I saw a few strolling around, I was sure I was d.o.n.e. I've never been In trouble or done shit like this. Anyways, I drove by and literally nothing happened. It's been a month I think I'm good.

“They told me I could.” WELL FUCK THEM TOO.

I grew up loving my mother dearly as most sons do. She was protective, kind, beautiful, successful and smart and was someone I strove to be like when I was young. However, I wasn’t seeing the side of her that is at her core and within the past 3 years, I have come to despise her. She is selfish, manipulative, two-faced and an overall bad human, which is a tough pill to swallow when I adored her for 25 years. It’s weird how you don’t really know your parents until you become an adult. This will be long and if just one person gets through it then it was worth writing, I just need to get this off my chest. My parents are in their late 50’s. My dad is very successful (owner of his own business) and is an all-around good guy, great father to my sisters and I, and is a way better husband than my mom deserves. They’ve been together since they were in high school when in their sophomore year, my mom literally pulled a girl out of his Jeep and got in because she wanted to be with him (red flag). He is more passive, and my mom is aggressive (obviously). Any honey-do list he got, he did it. Anything my mother wanted, she got. His brother and even I always gave him shit for being so whipped. They went into over $90,000 in debt when I was 13 because my mom wanted a big house, Mercedes, and other crap they couldn’t afford at the time. We went on expensive vacations that she planned, we ate a nice restaurants we couldn’t afford, and the only thing my dad ever stood his ground on was that he gets to deer hunt with the guys 3 weekends a year, which my mom still bitched about being left out of. She has always had to be the center of whatever he does in life, no exceptions. But that isn’t what made me see her for who she was. Four years ago, my now wife and I were soon to be married. My mom suggested we all take a motorcycle trip one weekend (My dad and I ride together often) with her old coworker, we’ll call him James. She explained he was going through a tough time with his ex wife and needed to get away. We go and have a good time for a weekend, but it just felt weird. It was my mom, dad, my now wife, and James. The dynamic and overall vibe of being around my mom’s old friend was strange. He was a nice enough guy, he was tall, handsome, rich and brawny. He had an ex-wife and two kids around my age, and he loved taking pictures of my mom and dad, which creeped me out. Anyways, nothing of importance happened on this trip, but my mom starts acting strange afterwards and my dad and older sister are the ones who noticed it. At this time, I lived with my fiancé on the other side of the city, but my older sister was living with my parents because she was in grad school and was recently divorced after 1 year of marriage (found out he was an addict and spent all their money). One night, a few weeks after our motorcycle trip, my fiancé, sister, mom and I went to an incubus concert. My mom was acting weird, wanting to smoke pot, downing beers (this isn’t like her at all) and just being weird in general. It was like she was a whole different person all of a sudden. After being there for 10 minutes, she said, “I’m going to grab a beer”, and gets up and is disappears for an hour. I went looking for her after she had been gone for 45min as I was concerned for her safety and when I came back with no luck, I ask my sister if she’s been able to get ahold of her. She rolls her eyes and goes, “I didn’t bother calling, she’s probably calling James.” ….WTF? She then drops a bomb and tells me she and dad suspect she is having an affair with him. She goes on to explain how sketchy she has been acting, doing things like changing her phone and iPad password, stepping out for phone calls and whispering, even putting a fucking jar of rocks on her phone while she slept so she would be woken up if anyone touched it I’m assuming…idk, fucking weird. My dad managed to look in her phone before she changed her password and quickly skimmed through her texts with James and saw some suspicious cryptic dialogue. My mom finally gets back to us at the concert and at this point I am pissed and devastated all at once. I ask her what took so long (she didn’t even have the beer she left to get), and she says, “oh I ran into some old friends from my old job at ____”. Immediately sensing bullshit (what are the chances her 50+ year old friends ALSO went to see Incubus). So, I ask who. She didn’t expect this follow up question but slyly responds with, “you don’t know them”. I then ask, “well what are their names?” She’s feeling the pressure and stutters before managing to make-up some bullshit names. My wife and sister are listening to my interrogation very intently while Brandon Boyd is killing it in the background singing "pardon me". I get sick of her BS and drop it. I am livid and crushed and thinking of my dad. My sister had already gotten to the point of disgust I was at, so she didn’t say anything and we all kind of ignored it until the next day. After this concert incident, my sister tells my dad what happened, and he finally approaches my mom about everything. He demanded to see her call history and see’s a 45min call to James at the time of the concert, along with many others. He demands to know WTF is going on and she says he is just going through a hard time with his ex, who is apparently debilitated from alcoholism, and she was just helping him get through it as a friend. Anyways, to keep any readers interested, I am going to skip past the shit that could make this the longest read ever. Basically, the sketchiness goes on for months, and at the time of my wedding, my dad has a tracker in her goddamn car, has requested call logs from the phone company and is looking at hiring a private investigator. I still remember dancing with her at my wedding, she looked at me adoringly and I couldn't look back at her. Little did my dad or I know; me and my love for my kayaking would soon give him everything he needed. A month or so after my wedding, I go to stay with my old college roommate for a weekend of kayaking and fishing. He lived by my grandparent’s lake house (my mom’s parents) and I was going to pick up my kayak from their house that day. My dad randomly calls me just to say hi and probably tell me about whatever sketchy BS my mom had been up to (though probably not healthy, he is my best friend, and this had been our convos lately). I tell him that I’m headed to the lake house and he responds “I doubt she would be this bold, but your mom said she was at the lake house with her girlfriends this weekend and I want you to be prepared if that isn’t the case. If it isn’t, let me know.” I knew what he meant. I didn’t give my mom a heads up that I was coming on purpose and as I drive up, I’m relieved to see just her car and another girly looking car in the driveway. I call my dad before going in and tell him my initial assessment is that nothing sketchy is going on from what I see, just looks like her and her friends are here. He’s as relieved I am. I walk up, knock on the door and it’s silent. The back-patio door is unlocked so I walk in. The first thing I see is a leather motorcycle jacket hanging on one of the barstools and immediately recognize it as James’. My heart starts pounding and my adrenaline is pumping as my vision gets all weird and my ears start burning. A million questions went through my head in a second, like “are they here?” – “do they know I’m here?” – “should I announce myself?” – “god dammit mom you fucking cheating asshole!”. I act fast, assuming they aren’t there but could be pulling up any minute. I take a picture of the jacket, I go to the garage and sure enough, James’ motorcycle is there. I take a picture of that and then run back in and see cell phones stacked where they are charging in the kitchen. I grab a phone I don’t recognize. It didn’t have a lock on it so immediately go to the pictures…. first one is of two people I don’t recognize, as well as my mom and James… and they’re kissing each other on the lips. I scroll a little and more of the same shit. My heart is pumping out of my chest at this point and I take a few quick pictures of the photos in the phone and run out of the house, not even remembering or caring what I had originally been there for. Something I should add here, when I was 7, my mom left my dad for a doctor, who just wanted to use her and drop her like a bad habit, and my dad reluctantly took her back after she begged and pleaded. She blamed the doctor at the time, saying he drugged/raped her or some bullshit. My dad later told me that at the time, he told himself he was doing it for the kids and had planned on leaving her after we graduated HS, but they did so well in between then and our graduations that he eventually forgave her and was happy in their relationship. I remember them being separated, but I didn’t know the details until I recently. Okay so anyways, I peel out of the driveway at the lake house, and drive to a secluded street in the neighborhood as I try and figure out wtf to do. I let my heart-rate slow a bit, so I could think more clearly and then called my little sister, trying to decide if I tell my dad and if so, how. Up to this point, everyone just had their suspicions with no solid proof. My little sister, who is the sweetheart of the family, agrees that I needed to call dad and tell him immediately because he deserves to know, despite how bad it will hurt him. I then called my wife and she agreed but we were both worried what he would do. I hesitate for a bit but eventually I call my dad to tell him his wife of 25 years is cheating on him. When he answers I just blurt it out “James is here, I have proof and mom is cheating on you.” I didn’t know how to put it delicately, so I just gave him the facts. He was in shock like me, he kept saying the same phrase over and over “No fucking way...god dammit (insert my mom’s name), god dammit…wow…son of a bitch, God dammit.” After the initial shock wares off, he apologizes that I had to be the one to see it and then says he’s on his way (it’s a 3hr drive) and that he will meet up with me at my roommates. I immediately call my uncle (my dad’s identical twin and my other best friend) and tell him what’s going on. I tell him I’m afraid my dad is going to do something stupid. He said he’ll make sure he doesn't. They end up coming down together and meet me at my roommate’s house. We talk for a couple hours and come up with a plan. They switch trucks with my roommate to go incognito because he must see it for himself. My dad promises he wont do anything stupid despite what he may see. He sneaks up there after dark, parks far away and walks a mile through the woods with his brother and a pair of binoculars. He hides behind some trees when he got in place and sees them on the patio with another couple drinking wine. They’re cuddling and kissing like they’re an old married couple and like what they are doing is not beyond fucked up. It took every ounce of self-control for my dad not to run over there and go insane on them. Instead he did the smart thing thankfully and just took pictures of them and left. The next morning, he cleared out their bank account, sent her the pictures he and I took along with a text that said, “I know everything, I’m leaving you.” I can only imagine what their reaction was like. I rest assured that the rest of their little getaway was quite stressful. The next year was a nightmare for everyone and my mom’s reaction to this solidified my disdain for her. She dragged everyone into her bullshit and made our lives a living hell. My dad and I caught her red handed. He just wanted her to go to James and let him live in peace, but instead, she dropped James and begged my dad to take her back. My dad agreed to pay her alimony if she granted him a divorce without lawyers that would’ve drain them both financially. She reluctantly agreed. After the divorce, my mom cried every day for a year. She moved in with my little sister in an apartment she couldn’t afford. She got on anti-depressants and went into a downward spiral that, because we loved her no matter what, took us all with her. All the lies she had told for a year began to surface more and more. Thinking back on that motorcycle trip where I spent a weekend with this prick made my stomach turn. I even bought that rich asshole a whiskey and coke. Though I despised who she was and what she had done, I was still very concerned for my mom and would listen to her sob on the phone and in front of me. She cried to my wife a lot which I hated. This was my wife's first year in the family and my mom was calling her bawling about how cruel my dad was being to her. My mom blamed my dad’s twin brother for almost everything, saying he had stolen him away from her on all our “guy hunting trips,” and he was the reason their marriage fell apart. She was truly manic. My mom’s parents and brother were disgusted with her because they loved my dad so much and they refused to talk to her about it, so my wife, sisters, dad and I were the ones who got the brunt of it. She tried manipulating everyone to make us think she was the victim here. It made me sick. She tried to make it seem like she was the battered wife and my dad had treated her badly. We all knew the truth and I found myself despising her more and more as person. My dad on the other hand, went full blown frat boy with his newly found freedom. He’s a handsome guy with money, and though my mom’s reaction was taking a toll on him in every way, he distracted himself by getting on bumble and banging a bunch of 30-40 something year-old women, hunted every weekend, and went on Harley rides during the week to escape it all. My mom still doesn’t know about the women and honestly, after being with the same woman for 30 years, being cheated on twice, and having every aspect of his life controlled, he deserved it and needed to get it out of his system. Anyways, getting us more towards the present, my wife and I became pregnant with our first child and the joy of it was completely overshadowed by my mom’s constant meltdowns. I couldn't even get them in the same room to tell all my family that they were going to have a new niece/granddaughter. For 10 months, she relentlessly berated my dad for not being able to forgive her and used my unborn child (their first grandchild) as a pawn to get him back. She told him that it would be his fault if their grandchild grew up with divorced grandparents. It made my blood boil. After a while, and against me and my sister’s encouragement for my dad to stay strong, my dad caved and slowly started to get back with her. They sold their house and now live together in a town home. My daughter is 17 months old now and my parents have fallen back into their relationship of my mom dominating his life, despite him trying to set strong ground rules this time. It’s been like when a villain get’s their power back after losing them. She went from weak and broken, to manipulating everyone to her will like she has always done. My wife is shy, caring and always worried to offend my family in any way, and my mom uses this to try and boss her around when it comes to our daughter until I step in. She'll constantly play the guilt card about how my wife's parents see our daughter more when they live 4 hours away. Uhhh yeah you fucking psycho, they're good people. When I talk to my mom now, there is never love in my voice. I don’t want to hate her, but her flaws are so apparent. She’s a sociopath who has to be in control everyone. We all love her despite this, but I am the only one who calls her out on her bullshit. My older sister barely speaks to her. My daughter is obsessed with her and it makes me happy and furious at the same time. She doesn’t deserve my dad, and she doesn’t deserve our forgiveness, especially since this is twice now (that we know about) that she cheated on my dad. Not sure how to end this. Just wish my mom wasn’t such shit bag. I guess I’m thankful these events and my realization didn’t happen sooner, other wise I wouldn’t know that there are good women out there and instead I’d probably have a a hard time trusting them. If you made it this far, thanks for reading. Edit: Just want to thank you guys. I read through most the comments and messages that ranged from “this is fake” to “your mom is a ****” to something sincere and relatable. I tried to write it in a way that wouldn’t bore people to death. I know everyone says this but I wrote this expecting no more than a handful of people to read it at most (sorry it was so long), I did not expect it to be on the front page. Thanks for letting me vent and for responding with your own stories and thoughts on it. Felt good to get it off my chest. Y’all are awesome.

Why didn’t he just keep banging the younger chicks and hang out with his friends

I recently won a large amount of money and I am not telling my children. They have sucked the life out of me for a quarter of a century. I don’t speak to either one of them because they have let drugs rule their lives. Karma is a bitch because I’m spending it on me.

Sounds good. How about in your will you leave a copy of the cashed check? You know, just for fun?

Edit 1: For those saying Adblock, does that even work on an iPhone? These aren’t ads that show up at the beginning of a video like on YouTube. Imagine watching Titantic and an ad appears right as they are about to hit the iceberg. That’s how it is now on any Facebook video longer than 30(?) seconds. Edit 2: Thanks for my first gold!!! I appreciate you!!!

That's the most annoying type of ad so far. I'm the same way, once that ad pops up I'm gone, I guess I'll never know how to make hamburger stuffed tacos

**I love y'all.**

Being popular online is hard. It’s like attending 10,000 high schools at once. Just do you

I've been a foster dad to my son since he was 5. He is now 9. He's been through a lot and has made significant progress. I am so proud of him. I've been trying to officially adopt him and have spent over $30,000 over the last two years to make it happen. He has no idea. The social worker came by to visit and I told him it was to see how he was doing, but he was worried that I might be getting rid of him so he's been very anxious and clingy, but I've been a bit emotional too. I am getting the paperwork all signed and sealed by my lawyer this Thursday (when the dumbass judge comes back to work). I want to surprise him by showing him that he is officially my son, although he always was and will. I thought about surprising him with the news at his favorite restaurant this Saturday with his Aunt and Uncle and cousins. Keeping this secret is harder that the actual adoption.

Stay strong...you won’t regret waiting when you see the reaction you’ll get from him when he knows it’s official.

We have 16yo twin boys who pummeled each other a few weeks ago. It took me and a neighbor to break them up. My wife was upset and stunned because they really don't fight. I told her it was because one didn't clean up after himself and it escalated from there. Teen boys, hormones, etc. I don't her to forget about it and not to bring it up because they were ashamed. She let it go and held onto the belief that her sons are sweet little angels. The truth is that they got into a fight because Twin A stole Twin's B last condom and Twin's B's girlfriend didn't have an Plan B. So Twin B wasn't going to get laid and attacked Twin A. My wife thinks Twin B is a virgin because he has a baby face and told her so. Why did Twin A steal his condom? For sex. With another boy. My wife thinks he's the one who is going to be a manwhore with women because he has so many female friends. EDIT: People making comments about the condoms. Twin B was getting them for free at school, but the school closed. He didn't plan on that happening. He didn't want to stash them up because my wife will freak if she found them and she does go through his stuff. His girlfriend had Plan B, but also ran out and doesn't want to ask her mom. **His girlfriend will not have sex without a condom or Plan B**. That's why I don't buy him condoms. &#x200B;

That was a fucking ride and a half. Good job, dad.

So there's this guy I met who clearly was interested in me who's definitely a very big man easily over 300lbs which is a lot bigger than me. He wasn't really physically "my type" or at least I thought so but he's definitely handsome just big. He had asked me out and he's very sweet and so I said yes because I figured if nothing else we'd have a nice time. We went to dinner which was nice and as I talked more with him I realized how judgemental I was. I was assuming he'd get a burger and a couple beers or something and he got a very light meal. I asked him if he was actually hungry and he told me he was trying to lose weight and that medication that he had to be on made it very hard due to changes in his metabolism and energy level. He went on about it in some depth. He has a regular light workout routine of what he can manage and a restricted diet. He had lost almost 40lbs this year so far. I honestly felt really proud of him in that moment and after dinner he asked if I wanted to back to his place for a movie on Netflix and maybe a drink. We were having a great time talking so I agreed. We went to his very nice apartment and were watching the new IT while having a couple drinks. Well during one of the scary parts I jumped and instinctively grabbed him and he was so warm and soft like a big teddy bear. I remember looking at him and I kissed him without even thinking about it. We kept making out and eventually we had sex and it was honestly the best sex I think I've ever had. He was very gentle and giving and I enjoyed every minute. I woke up in his arms the next morning and we had sex again after I noticed his morning wood and we made plans to do this again. I honestly really like this guy and fuck what society thinks about him weighing literally over twice as much as me. He's very sweet, caring, feels amazing to cuddle and is honestly likely the best lover I've ever had.

So your saying there's a chance..

You know those hermit crabs they sell as pets to tourists in coastal souvenir shops, the ones with shells that have badly painted cartoon characters on them? The ones that come free with the purchase of a little plastic carrier with a thin layer of brightly colored gravel, some flake food, and a shallow water dish with a sea sponge in it. Maybe your parents let you get one while you were on vacation as a child because it's such a simple little pet, and maybe it lived for a few weeks or months or even a couple years in that little plastic box before you noticed a bad smell and found it dead. And maybe you shrugged it off because it's just a little crab and they don't live long right? Those crabs have a lifespan of 30+ years. Those crabs are highly social and need to be kept in groups. Those crabs require air that's around 80% humidity or higher in order to **BREATHE**, and kept at around 26 C/80 F. Those crabs need separate pools of both fresh and salt water (using marine aquarium salt) that are deep enough to fully submerse themselves in so they can regulate their internal salinity. They need large enclosures with deep substrate to burrow down in so they can molt. They need a varied and nutrient-rich diet with fresh fruit and veg. The little crab you got as a souvenir in the same place selling custom airbrush shirts and shark-tooth necklaces died a slow and miserable death. It's a miracle it made it that far to begin with, as all the hermit crabs sold in these shops (and major pet retailers) are collected from the wild. They have their natural shells broken off their bodies with a hammer so they have no choice but to wear some kitschy garbage with Spiderman painted on it. Roughly 50% don't survive the process and no one seems to care. I care. Several years ago I was in one of these shops and saw hundreds of hermit crabs kept in a bare, unheated open-air cage with only a shallow dish of water. I could smell them before I saw them, dead little bodies rotting in their shells and limbs strewn about. Children were encouraged to pick them up and play with them and beg their parents for one because they're hardly more complicated than a pet rock, right? If I bought some of them I could give them a chance to live, but in doing so I'd be supporting a cruel industry and funding the death of so many more. I'm not sure how long I paced around the shop with my moral dilemma before a sudden realization hit me: I have pockets. As casually as I could, I picked out a couple sickly crabs and gently put them in my pocket. My heart was racing but no one stopped me when I walked out the door. And so started my life of crime. I don't do it often, but if I'm in a town with one of those souvenir shops I'll pop on in and jailbreak a few hermit crabs. I gravitate towards the weak ones and those missing limbs. They're on their way out but I want them to have a chance, or to at least die as comfortably as they can. The ones that've pulled through are all healthy and active now; a colony of contraband crabs. I love the background noise of their shells clacking against their terrarium and each other as they go about their crab business. I'm a little drunk and sentimental tonight which is my excuse for writing all this. I have a feeling most folks won't care to read it all but I hope they do and somehow it'll make a difference. If you made it through my rambling, thanks. May you never be pinched.

I live in one of these tourist, beach communities. Been stealing hermit crabs for years and bringing as many as possible back to the wild. It’s good to meet a fellow crab thief. Thank you for doing what you do.

I hate him so much, the thought of him winning the lottery and having to split it with me makes me so happy :)

It two copies of his numbers so you can enjoy splitting the pot 2/3 to 1/3

Someone had fried chicken delivered to the office for all to share. The smell was potent and delicious, filling the entire building. Shortly afterward I farted, one of those long warm ones, and it was also very potent. The smells mingled in a way that nature never intended. Needless to say everyone was confused and upset. I saw someone gag into their hand and put down their chicken thigh, never picking it back up. Nobody knows it was me.

Worth it for this short story.

That's all. &#x200B; Disclaimer: This isnt to say everyone can't enjoy a good boob, but it's hOW you experience the boob. Edit: More ppl offended by this then I expected, it's just a goof

I knew it! Finally, after all these years of pondering. Thank you!

I started vaping weed. My husband doesn't know. I have really bad anxiety and depression, and we have two toddlers My prescription medication makes me feel nauseous and I hate it. Weed isn't legal here, but I live right on the border of a legal state. It makes me feel so much better. I've gone a week without yelling at my kids or husband. I've been cooking and cleaning more. I want to actually cuddle and be intimate with my husband now. I can sit and listen and play with my kids without getting irritated or just dreading the fact that they're making a mess. I'm not anxious and sad and stuffing my face. My low-carb food tastes delicious now, so I'm actually losing weight. I haven't been getting my daily tension headaches. I'm happy to get out of bed in the morning, and I quit my prescription sleeping pills. I always thought weed made you a depressed couch potato, but it's having the opposite effect on me. My husband is uber conservative and already is kind of disgusted that I take stuff for anxiety/depression. He definitely wouldn't like this.

Good for you. Sounds like you really found something that works for you!

So, I hate cleaning the house, sometimes I enjoy getting in the groove to some music, but mostly it's just tedious and I don't get any help with it. When my, now wife, first moved in together, she was going through a bout of depression and for a few years I would go to bed with her, wake up and go to work, and come back home most days her still sleeping, or if awake has yet to leave the bed, with her only really being up when I was home. So everyday, the living room was the same way it was the moment I left, some times going weeks being untouched and it started to make me feel lonely because it was like I lived by myself all over again. As if Nothing happens when I wasn't looking. Growing up in a family of 6, with many pets, and alot of stray acquaintances(My folks allow friends and family to bum off us when going through tough times as a sort of halfway home); there was never a dull moment in the house, for better or worse, which made it feel like it was home. After no small amount of therapy and constant love, care, and commitment, she's been slowly cracking through her depression with only occasional bad days. And we have recently had our lovely daughter join our life. We just moved to a new area and a new house, my wife plays with the kid in the living room, gets her changed in the child's bedroom, makes herself and the little one some food in the kitchen now that she's eating more solids, and our little one destroys what ever she can get her hands on. Coming home to see my daughter crawling over mommy as they watch PBS, my wife laughing and playing, my house in a lovely mess of activity and life, and I couldn't be any happier. Well if I could get hand with the dishes, that'd be nice, but with such a big victory, I'm not going to complain too much just yet. EDIT: OMG this blew up, I wasn't expecting this to do anything over 10 Up votes! And thanks for the Gold, but please don't waste your money giving me fake internet points. I haven't read any of y'all's comments yet; I've busy finally finishing up the nursery now that I got a 4 day weekend, but also a little hesitant like some sort of stage fright I guess. But I promise that I'll read each and every one and respond to y'all. Edit 2: I've read every comment, and replied to most of them as promised. Thank y'all for the kind words. Also, I agree, this would have fit better in another sub than r/confessions , didn't think it through enough when deciding where to post.

That is so lovely to read, I'm glad your wife is on the mend.

I have a regular at the place I work. She comes in almost every day. She's very old but just so warm and sweet. She always orders the same hot pressed sandwich. I buzz her order that its ready when it really still has about a minute left because I know it takes her at least a minute to get to the counter, and I don't want the food sitting there and getting cold. Its the little things that people may not even notice or realize, but I'm sure they appreciate it. Edit: I can not believe this has received over 250K views and over 5000 upvotes. Y'all are awesome and I appreciate the love and encouraging words :)

I did that when I worked at subway. There was a crew of construction workers that came in everyday for lunch and i quickly memorized their orders so as soon as I saw them pull up I’d start making them

Why the fuck would I do that. I should have never masturbated in front of my turtle. So basically I was watching porn in my 55 inch tv and my turtle was next to me in the couch. The porno was really old. It was a DVD from 2002. It was probably the hottest porn I have ever watch and honestly I'm probably going to watch porn on dvd instead from the internet. The only reason I had my turtle with me was because whenever I cum, I feel really depressed and lonely, so I thought that if my turtle watched with my I wouldn't feel lonely. Well I started stroking my willie, I used lotion, i took all my clothes off, but my dumbass forgot the tissues. I realized that I forgot to grab tissues but it was too late. I was going to cum. I didn't want to cum everywhere so I had to think fast. It was when I saw my turtle when I realized what I had to do. I came like a motherfucker. My turtle was painted with my cum in his tiny little face and all around his shell. He didn't say a word about it, he didn't move, he just stood there looking at me like I killed a bunch of children. I would never forgot the look my turtle gave me. His disappointing face broke my heart. I put on my clothes, I took my turtle to the bathroom and cleaned him off. What happened, happened. But my turtle would never forgot what happened. My turtle, Tommy, would never forgive me. Today, I passed by him and I know he still remembers what i did to him 3 hours ago. My only wish, is that one day, Tommy the turtle will forgive me for my horrible sins.

What the fuck

Girlfriend and I got into an argument over our kids Christmas spending budget. We both have a kid from a previous relationship. Her daughter and my Son. We have an agreed budget of $1000 for each kid. We have met that budget for both kids last week. Today she tells me she wants to get her daughter a phone and wants to buy her an iPhone XS Max easily putting her daughter close to $1200 over our agreed Christmas budget. We have a shared bank account so it’s not quite the “it’s her daughter and her money so what’s the deal” kinda thing.. we argued for three days over the issue, we couldn’t afford to spend another $1200 on my son to even out the budgets again at a ludicrous $2200 each.. my son would have never if know we spent an extra money on her but that’s not the point.. it’s unfair and in my opinion it’s favoritisms.. After another very heated argument over the issue. I walked over to the tree, grabbed her present. Opened it in front of her, and then rewrapped it and addressed it to my son. Now the budgets are mostly equal again give or take $100... Merry Christmas.... Bitch P.S the MacBook was purchased on my personal Credit card so she wouldn’t have known about it.

Is a 1k budget for one person’s Christmas presents not insane to anyone else..?

My son has Asperger's which is like autism-lite. We've done extensive therapy and intervention and for the most part he is no different than any other kid his age except he comes across as shy and a bit nerdy (saying that with love). &#x200B; The only issue we had at school was that he would become overwhelmed, panic and run out of the classroom. Of course that is not okay. We and school decided to allow him to take quick breaks to decompress when he starts feeling overwhelmed. He has not had an "incident" since the 3rd grade. &#x200B; He started the 6th grade last year and it's hard for any kid, especially for an Aspie's kid. We met with all of his teacher's and reminded them that he has this accommodation in writing and he will likely need to use it since middle school is tough for an Aspie kid. All but one of his teacher's understood that and were supportive. &#x200B; His math teacher is just a nasty bitch. She's one of those teachers that should not be a teacher. We're not those crazy in-your-face parents. We just want what's best for our son and work with his teachers to do so. We kept on reminding her, verbally and in writing, especially as our son's anxiety started to grow around her. &#x200B; Imagine my surprise when I get a call from his counselor telling me to pick my son up. Apparently he had bolted from her classroom and ran out to the field. The principal and a counselor tried to escort him to the office and he refused unless they called me. It horrified me because I've seen videos of cops being called and tasering or hitting special needs kids. When I got there, my son was very upset. It was like watching years of progress unravel. &#x200B; Apparently, he started to feel overwhelmed in her class because she's a bitch. She tuned on the heat too high and closed all the doors. He felt trapped and claustrophobic. When he asked for a break, she refused and told him to sit down or get detention. That only fueled his anxiety more and he exploded. &#x200B; The school quickly accepted that the situation was handled poorly by the teacher. I requested that he switch classes and even threaten to get a lawyer for not following the accommodations that they are required by law to follow. That got their attention quickly. They did not send him back to her class; rather he went to another class until the matter was resolved. The teacher did get into trouble and wanted to discuss it with us before pulling him out of her class. &#x200B; We met with her and she was just a nasty bitch. She accused our son of using his diagnosis as a crutch and he needed to grow up. I wanted to slap her. She went to take a phone call and I saw her keys on her desk. I put them in my pocket and we finished our conversation and I politely thanked her for her time. &#x200B; Then I threw her keys in a dumpster and got my son pulled out of her class the next day. That made my day lol.

As a person who has anxiety and Aspergers honestly thank you so much for caring for your son’s comfort. School was hell for me and I had GOOD teachers. I absolutely can’t stand people who act like disabilities are things you can learn to grow out of, especially actual teachers who play a major part in child development. You did good.

The wife came onto me first but I didn't sleep with her out of respect for her husband, til he messaged me on grindr and I realized they're as bad as each other and I may as well have some fun with it. I even popped the husband's bootyhole cherry. I might tell them one day but ehhh the sex is fun. Edit: I thought the nsfw tag would mean I wouldn't get this many responses lol and I'm absolutely living for how many TV shows seem to have this exact thing happen. Also they're super toxic I'm not telling them til I'm ready to bounce.

Now this is what this sub is for.

So like many young modern men I enjoy pornography and partake semi regularly. There's of course a lot of porn out there and I'll confess the normal shit (pun intended) started to get kind of boring to me so I started branching out into some more extreme (but legal) genres of porn. Eventually I stumbled on scat and to be very honest it was super hot and I ended up enjoying it a lot. Something about watching a beautiful woman with a fat ass pinch off a large fecal loaf really turned me on. I'm not exaggerating when I say I spent almost 2 years of my life watching primarily scat focused porn. Well as I got more and more into it the more I wanted to experience it myself. I tried finding women who were into it but they seemed few and far between. Eventually I found an escort who specialized in extreme fetishes and she was super hot too. But very expensive. I knew I wanted this though but I'm not super rich so I took out a cash advance on my credit card and put it with my savings. I contacted her, scheduled an appointment (last month on the 15th) and paid for a hotel room and her flight to my city. I even took time off of work on the Friday beforehand to prepare. I was so excited my heart was racing waiting for her to show up at 6 at my room. She came, we made conversation all while I grew more excited and aroused. Finally the time came. She grabbed her suitcase and opened it and pulled out a large plastic sheet and laid it over the bed. She told me to lay down, undress and get comfortable and she'd change and return. I did so and was so excited. After what felt like forever she came back wearing a leather corset, thigh high boots and no bottoms. She asked if I was ready. I was so excited and aroused I couldn't speak. I just nodded. She got on top of me in a 69 and told me to eat her asshole. I ate it like my life depended on it while she stroked and blew me. It was amazing. Then she asked if I was ready for the main course. I moaned "YES!" She put her entire ass over my face and carefully lined up her asshole with my mouth. I started to see it open up. I was so aroused as she still stroked me gently. Then I saw it open up and slowly a log started to make it's way out. I opened my mouth and as soon as the shit entered my mouth I knew I made a terrible mistake. It tasted so bad. The smell was terrible too. It made me gag. She then moved her ass over my chest and started shitting all over me. Then she sat her ass down and started smashing and spreading it on me while still jerking me off. I was fighting the urge not to puke. Tears of shame, sadness and disgust filled my eyes as I fought the urge not to cry like a baby. She just kept shitting and jerking/blowing me. Eventually I came all over her hands and she smeared my cum and some of the shit together and made me lick it off of her fingers. I felt like I needed to impress her and that I'd spent too much money on this to back out. Then we went and showered and she threw the plastic sheet in a garbage bag, took the envelope of money we made some brief conversation and she left. Immediately I broke down crying, brushed my teeth for what felt like forever and got drunk trying to forget. I found out the hard way last month that I don't have a scat fetish and honestly I feel mentally broken over that night and I don't know if mentally I can overcome this. I've been really struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts since that night. I made an appointment to see a local therapist but I hope it'll help. Edit: Thanks for the words of encouragement everyone it's been overwhelming and incredible having so many pms and comments with encouragement hit me. You guys are such a nice community especially to someone as dumb and perverted as me. Thank you all so much.

My dude! I hope you threw that toothbrush away too. I’m traumatized just from reading this. I think we all need to hug this one out.

So far, she's pushed one out and breathing... 40:00 mins later: She's now at number two... 60:00 mark: the third one has dropped and I'm hoping this is everybody. Everybody's breathing and meowing and I'm so happy for her. # # Thanks for being apart of the event guys.

if a cat is searching for you as emotional support that means that she loves you and trusts u completely....goals..

I recently took a short vacation to a lesser developed country. On my last night I decided to sample some of the more exotic local fare and had a mixed seafood dish which was quite good. All was fine until the flight home when I started feeling a lot of pressure in my abdomen. I could tell I wasn’t going to shart, so I leaned over a bit and poofed out a bit of gas, smooth as silk. I was giving myself a mental high-five when I realized that what was supposed to have been a sly poot turned out to be a horrendous stench bomb that instantly engulfed several rows fore and aft. Little babies started crying immediately, while the adults let out short barks that registered somewhere between shock and despair. In a display of primal instinct, a couple of teens sitting across the aisle reflexively pulled their tee shirt collars up over their mouth and nose. The gas was so dense and foul that I thought I could maybe see it clouding the air in the cabin. A flight attendant up front noticed the commotion and bustled down the aisle, but upon entering the contaminated zone, instantly spun on her heel and beat a hasty retreat. There was no way I was going to fess up and apologize, so instead I just scowled and pretended to look around for the culprit. Fortunately things cleared out pretty fast. I didn’t dare try it again, I had taken my fellow passengers by surprise the first time, but now they were wary and fully alert. For the rest of the flight, anyone that made their way back to the lavatory was subjected to the scrutiny of a hundred eyes. We landed and I deplaned without further incident, however, I did totally trash a toilet in Customs, but that’s another story.

Little babies started to cry hahahahahh fucking brilliant

They’re so annoying, only posting stuff about their baby like it’s the only thing going on in their life. It gets worse after the baby is born because they end up posting like 50 pictures of their kid doing shit kids normally do. Usually it’s a friend’s girlfriend or wife. I know it’s a nit picky thing to do, but I hate babies anyway. Edit: Maybe I should have been more specific. The women who are my friend’s girlfriend or wife. These aren’t my close friends, they’re more like acquaintances, so it’s not like I’m abandoning my best friend or some shit. Jeez. To the incels who think I also unfollow women once they get in a relationship or when they get married: NO I don’t unfollow them when they get a boyfriend or get married. Astonishingly, I don’t only befriend women in hopes that we have sex. I just don’t like kids and I think babies are ugly and annoying.

A girl I went to school with has had two children but she posted on FB that she won’t be uploading any (or many) pics of her pregnancy/birth/ children on social, due to the fact that most people don’t want to see that shit. She instead had a blog where people who actually wanted to know how she and the family were doing could go and check it out on their own terms. I thought that was brilliant and she had a very tasteful writing style so I could check in every now and again.

Me (29M) and my partner (28F) met 8 years ago just before I graduated and we clicked almost immediately. A few months after I graduated, she and her 3 year old son moved in with me. Right after graduating, I started making low 6 figures working for a large bank and then went on to do my own thing having a very lucrative career. My income was more than enough to support the 3 of us so I was comfortable letting her stay home, work on her hobbies and volunteering. I thought our relationship was going well, she's been pressing me to get married for the last 4 years but the time never seemed right because I wanted to get my own business off of the ground first and she seemed comfortable with that. Last week, she asked me what I thought about open relationships and whether we could open ours. I know why she asked, I spend a lot of time travelling for work and she probably wants some action on the side while I'm away working, hell she might already have something on the side. I knew right then we were done but I needed to find out how screwed I was before pulling the trigger. I set up a meet with a lawyer my friend knew and I have to admit I was scared, I'd heard stories of how men were raked over the coals in divorces all the time so I walked into the lawyer's office expecting to lose 50% of everything and more. At first things looked bleak but then he asked how long we had been married. When I told him that we weren't married, he called me "The luckiest mf to ever walk into his office". Common law marriage doesn't exist here which means that when we split up, she gets precisely...nothing...zero...zip...nada. I'm trying to figure out the best time to tell her we're done but that's all I have to say. Not getting married was the smartest decision I've ever made.

Just make sure you give her enough time, legally, to leave. The little one didn’t do anything so don’t make him suffer bc she sucks. Good luck OP. ETA: thank you for the awards.

I haven’t smoked a cigarette in about a week. This is the longest I’ve went in about 7 years. I’m only 24. It’s so nice to wake up without my chest hurting. I’m never going back!

Thank you everyone for the encouraging words! I’m definitely keeping at it. My mom smokes and I’ve reached the point where her cigarettes stink to me. I’ve been airing out my house and washing everything I own. I can only imagine how bad everything in my home wreaks. What a nasty habit I picked up.

I was 13 when you first took a knee. In my eyes, America was the best country in the world and I loved it for all the good it has done. At the time I would have died for my country. And there you were, in direct opposition to the ideals I cared so deeply for. I hated you. I hated your protest. I stopped watching the NFL. I haven’t bought or worn nikes since. Everything about you was wrong. How could you hate something that was so perfect? How could you hate the land of the free and home of the brave? How could you disrespect the millions of American soldiers that have died for the flag? How could you hate my home? Only know do I see the America you’ve always seen. I am disappointed. I am disappointed in my country and I am disappointed in myself. You lost your dream job and had your name dragged through the mud by people like me because I was too blind to see the problems within my own home. I wish I could take it all back. I hope one day you can forgive me for all the wrong I’ve done to you. I’m sorry Colin Kaepernick.

It takes a mature person to admit they were wrong about something like that... and that is what we need in this country. As Americans we need to be open to other's ideas and perspectives. We could do so much good as a country if we would just listen to each other with empathy and love.

Sold our business this year. mid 50s. Net worth now over 10 million USD. Our kids have no idea (teenagers). Our siblings have no idea. Our parents are deceased. Nobody else knows, except our banker. We live a low-income life, still shopping at Walmart and Target. At some point, we may buy a big "look at me" home on a lake or river (like $2-3M) because why not? But for now, we're happy just being retired, not flaunting our wealth, and living a quiet life, driving an old Honda and Toyota. We're minimalists, by the way, and love de-cluttering our home of material goods. Good to just type this out, for many internet strangers to see. Can't and won't tell anyone else. Cheers. ETA: Thanks for the awards, everyone. Well, this got a shocking amount of activity by this morning. wow. Thanks. To answer some common questions: the business sold was related to dentistry / teeth. Boring stuff, but I think it's many times the boring, niche small businesses that do well. The guy pumping out your septic tank? Could be a millionaire. The person making one custom metal fabricated part for some boring industrial machine? Probably retire as a millionaire. Anyway, thanks again for your thoughts and best wishes.

I think it's better when nobody know it. I'm happy for you

Here I sit on another Sunday morning. I love the people I minister to. I believe that there are some really good principles in the Bible (and some really awful ones!) so I feel ok about the message of love and hope that I get to deliver. I push back against the hate and homophobia and judgmental nature of so much Contemporary American Christianity. But I don’t believe the underlying myth, and I have to pretend that I do. Overall, I believe I’m doing more good than harm, but there’s a dishonesty at the center of it that I have to try to ignore. EDIT: A lot of great discussion here. A couple of clarifications: I’m not economically dependent on ministry work. I work outside the church and do my ministry work on a voluntary basis. I used to get a (very) small stipend but gave it up a few years ago when I no longer needed it. I wonder all the time whether I am lying, or just withholding (or whether that’s a BS distinction.) I strive only to say what I believe, but it’s a stretch. When I say God is Love, I really mean Love is God - the highest power. Certainly not Christian orthodoxy. I try hard to teach only what I believe - Love, grace, care for others, etc. There are not many other forums where I could deliver that message in the same way. Not an excuse, just a fact. I appreciate the concern of those who feel I’m defiling the faith. I disagree, but humbly. They may be right. I would hate to hurt those who have trusted me. Thanks for all the encouragement. Thanks for the honest criticism. Reading the comments here is a bit like living inside my brain. To everyone: “... but the greatest of these is love.” Another edit: Thanks to everyone on this thread. It’s remarkably civil and thoughtful. It’s brightening my day. Last edit: this post is almost 24 hours old, so it’s about to die off. But I genuinely thank everyone who participated in such good faith, which was most of you. Whether you offered encouragement, supportive resources or even gentle (or harsh) condemnation based on your deeply held beliefs, I appreciate the conversation and challenge. I read every comment (ok, I may have skimmed a few of the wall-of-text jeremiads to find the main point) and I responded to as many as I felt I productively could. You’ve all given me much to think of and I wish you joy on whatever journey that you are on. Again, to all my new stranger/friends and to those who want nothing to do with me, shalom.

Greetings, Pastor. I’m an agnostic who’s neck-deep in the church, leading seminars for new believers twice a year and the team ministry support for the church version of AA (celebrate recovery). I’m on several other support/lead teams as well, and a former missionary. I’m also an alcoholic, and brutally bipolar which if it was found out, I’d be buried underneath a stack of deacons and pastors so fast, I’d not see daylight for months. It’s happened once before and nothing spikes my terror more than that happening again. You’re not alone. The church is horridly difficult to break free from. I’ve been slowly withdrawing for the last 4-5 months. Dropping a committee here and there and now I’m down to two. Two very big ones, that if I withdraw from, there will be repercussions. I actually like church and believe in God. But my mental health is in tatters right now and Christianity doesn’t allow for mental illness - hence my fear. Here’s more involved here than I’ll bother typing, but safe to say that you’re not alone and as a pastor, you should be able to safely take a 1-year sabbatical. It’ll buy you time, and give you space to think things through. You 100% can tell them that this isn’t your calling and you’re stepping down. They’ll survive. You need to take care of you and yours first. It won’t be easy, I know all too well, but it’ll be worth it in the end. Just don’t lose yourself in the process. Faith meant something to you once, and you’ll need to answer why it doesn’t anymore. Good luck, take care of you. Feel free to message me if you want.

I wanted to say from the beginning that I have never touched or hurt a child, and never will. Obvious throwaway for obvious reasons. How it all began was when I was around 15 or so, I started to become attracted to girls around me (I went into puberty very late). As I grew older, instead of my attractions growing in accordance with my age, they never moved, which lead me to continually being attracted to girls of that age. When I was a minor, it wasn't such a big issue, but when I became an adult it was. When I turned 19, I made the decision to essentially become a recluse. I did not want to hurt anyone, but there were many emotions fighting inside of me. I had urges that I had little control of, and it was a mission every day to avoid following through on them. It came to a head one day when I was speaking to the daughter of a friend and the urges almost overwhelmed me. I almost broke. This was the point when I shut myself away. I would only go out when I knew that children were at school, or wouldn't be on the street (after dark). I avoided media involving children. I avoided books involving children. Most days I wouldn't go out at all, only going out after dark, if at all. I took jobs where I could work nightshift, so that I didn't have to have any contact with children. This made my life absolute hell. I became a nervous wreck. I would get anxiety if anyone came to the door - incase it was a child. I still worked, but my performance was poor. This often led to me being fired or disciplined. No one else knew what I was going through. By necessity it was something I had to endure alone. Around 7 years ago, I found a psychologist. It had gotten to be too much and I had to speak with someone about it. Over the course of the next six months, we discovered that my sexual feelings were brought about by my being sexually abused at a young age. When it was happening, it was frequent and often violent. As it turns out, I had repressed most of it. I didn't know how bad it actually was. However, discovering this lead to that revelation. Over the course of three years of twice-weekly treatments, my feelings towards minors began to fade. Slowly, but surely, I started to get better. I owe my psychologist my life - literally. I was at the point of suicide before I started seeing him. Now, 7 years on, I have no attraction towards minors. I have a much more normal life. I can actually go out during the day without being anxious. I can talk to children with no urges. I am mostly normal. I am still dealing with the repercussions of my dark times, but the dark times themselves are over. I'm married, and I have a baby boy on the way. The process of getting treatment is so freeing. I can't even describe it now. My psychologist is the one who suggested writing this out. He thinks it will help with my healing process. I hope it will. Thanks for listening. EDITS BELOW: First and foremost, I want to thank you all for your support and kind words. My wife and I are in tears reading all of the messages you folks have sent my way. When I wrote this, I expected condemnation and negative responses. I could not have dreamed of such warm and heartfelt responses to my post. To respond to some questions posed here: My psychological treatment was a blend of Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy and Exposure & Response Therapy. Those two therapies lasted for about 18 months, after which we moved into Acceptance & Commitment Therapy, which also helped a great deal. It was hard for me to find a psychologist who was willing to take me on. I live in the American South, so psychologists weren't cheap, but my psychologist was interested in it from an academic standpoint, so reduced his price for me in order to study my disorder and my mind in general over the long term. I ended up paying around $50 a session, instead of the $200 he normally charged. I had a fair amount of money saved to pay the psychologist, as I tend to live a frugal life. Not spending a lot of money on things that most people do for fun or in social situations led me to save a lot of money in general. The one who abused me was my father. My mother didn't find out about this until the abuse had been going on for a number of years. I had never understood why my mother and father split, but once my memories began to resurface, I spoke with her about it. Upon finding out about the abuse, my mother immediately left my father and left the house. She eventually moved us across the country. My father was convicted of 2 counts of rape and 5 counts of indecent assault of a minor and was sentenced to 8 years in prison. After 5 years of incarceration, he committed suicide. After leaving my father, my mother looked after me alone for the next 6 years and then found a new partner. She married him a year later and I am glad to call him my father. I am still seeing the psychologist who treated me, though, on a monthly basis now. In regards to the urges I had, they were different from normal attraction. The best way I can describe it is like an addict looking to get more of a substance. There is this compulsive need that is always lurking in the background, always poking at you to find it out. I would find myself compulsively planning to do horrible things to get what I desired, which is why I shut myself away from society. Thank you all again for your kind words and support. It means so much to me.

I’m very proud of you for getting the help you needed and turning your life around.

If I feel like getting drunk by myself I will go to a gay bar rather than a straight one because I like the attention I get, it's more relaxed because I don't have to worry about drunk insecure dude brahs with something to prove, plus I can drink fruity drinks without being seen as less of a man. Edit: Thank you random people. I've never had this many upvotes on anything before. Edit: Thank you for the gold kind stranger.

I did this on a business trip. It was by accident but I actually enjoyed the night. The bartender gave me a "straight stamp" on my hand and nobody hit on me after that. They were all super polite. It was also very clean and had fun club music playing. 10/10 would go again.

We were watching one of the Garfield movies (I can’t remember off the top of my head) and everything was well until the song “I feel good” by James Brown started playing in the movie. Now, you may ask, what could’ve scared you so bad from a song like that? Well I’ll tell you. In the beginning of the song James Brown does this sort of scream I guess you could say. Well me and my brother had no idea that it was a part of the song and we thought the scream had came from somewhere in our room. After hearing the scream we immediately ran to our parents room and told them we heard someone scream from inside our room, so my father jumps up and grabs a knife from the kitchen and walks into our room to find nothing in there. So now everyone in the house thinks there’s an intruder so we all go lock ourselves in my parents bedroom and call the police. Police show up and find nothing. I was watching the movie with my niece the other day and heard that familiar scream and realized that it was only the movie and we’d had the police called for no reason at all. Edit: Holy crap didn’t expect this to blow up like this thank you all for the upvotes and comments <3 Edit: Thank you so much for the gold it’s my first time! <3

Thats fabulous.

I moved here in April so it's been all mask since I've been here.

This is a weeeeird Corona mindfuck. I started a new job and met all the girls there (also baristas), and days later I saw one without a mask and was like WHAT?? Completely different than I had thought. Not better or worse. Just a different face than the person I thought I had come to recognize.

How hard is that concept to grasp? Since some of you will want a “real” confession.. sometimes I use the same plate 4 times without washing it.

Plot twist : the progress is them getting out of shape and therefore it's on the correct side

Just needed to get it off my chest. So embarrassing. Just wish I could of done more, I feel like such an asshole. -this is how you all sound on this fucking sub.

OMG I can totally relate to you. You should NOT be ashamed of yourself. You are actually a real hero. I would give you all of my Reddit gold! If I had any...

My dad has Asperger's and is notoriously difficult to deal with. Growing up he never really told me that he loved me or hugged me; he just assumed that I knew and wouldn't say it. It was a difficult time, having a dad that didn't understand your emotions or any sort of affection. But he does love me. How do I know this? For his birthday, I made him a small leather bracelet (just a simple band). The inside had an expression he often used with me growing up, and the outside had the nautical coordinates of the dock he used to take me fishing at every Saturday morning when I was a kid. It was our thing. We wouldn't talk, but I liked being outside and I knew he liked it because every weekend, without fail, he would ask me if I was ready to go fishing, no prompting from Mom. He simply called me to say thanks for the gift, and he hung up. I didn't think much of it. But anyways, my mom called me yesterday and asked if I had told her neighbors about the bracelet I made Dad. I was confused; I had not told them. She said that she hadn't either. She told me that they were talking to her about what a great gift it was and we're asking if I could show them where to make one like it. We realized Dad must have been talking about it to them, and actually showed them. Dad NEVER talks about things he likes, especially to strangers. She then told me that he's been wearing ot almost every day (again, this is a man who is not about adornment) and she saw him sending a picture to his brother. He might not say it, but that's how I know he misses me. Hope to see you soon, Pops.

That is so sweet and now I’m tearing up. Good on you for giving your dad such a meaningful gift and not giving up on him because he wasn’t a conventional dad. Good for you for seeing that he does actually love and care about you despite his inability to show it or express it. I’ve worked with a lot of students with Aspergers and they all had trouble expressing emotions and feelings.

And that includes a smile, nod or other form of acknowledgement. Might just be that driving in general changes your personality but I find it rude. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I flip people off under my dash .. safer these days

Things were going well and then bad stuff happened. For almost two years, we were not sure if we were going to be on the streets, but it seemed likely. I barely got by for a year, but we had to do without. I am so ashamed about this. A father should be able to provide for his sons, especially when he is a single father. I just take solace in that we played it off that we were not poor. For example, my 9yo has not had a proper bed for three years. Just a rollaway bed. It was nothing short of a miracle that I got the job that I got a year ago. It literally saved our lives. All of a sudden money isn't an issue. I had to still live on a budget because it was too good to be true. Now I know I am doing a good job, my boss is happy with me, I am raking tons in OT, we have good insurance, etc. I ended up finding a spacious house last month (not apartment like we live in now) well within what I can afford right across the street from their school and park and have been secretly filling it up with new furniture this month and had movers move in all of our stuff today. They're both are actually at the park across the street right on a playdate and seriously have no idea. &#x200B; EDIT: Thanks for the support. It sorta backfired. I met them at the park and their friends were picked up. They asked where they car was because they were cold. I pointed to the car in a driveway and they were confused. I told them that was our new home. They were even more confused and slightly disturbed. I took them to the house and told them to look around and all of their stuff was there including new stuff. They asked about the apartment and I told them we had moved out so we could live in a bigger and better place. It wasn't that they weren't happy but they were overwhelmed and blindsided. They wanted to know why I didn't tell them and were worried that if I had forgotten something at the apartment then they weren't going to be able to get it back and felt excluded. Today they were a bit more relaxed and explored the house. They're getting used to having a kitchen sink (we did not have one at the apartment) AND a dishwasher and having a front and backdoor and a backyard that's all theirs. I'm pretty sure in a few days they will adapt to it and won't miss their old place.

Film their reaction and save it. Whenever you feel down, Replay it and it'll cheer you up.

It was this time 7 years ago I got the diagnosis while pregnant. It was this time 7 years ago I had 2 choices, to abort or to continue my pregnancy and I chose to continue my pregnancy. It was the worst mistake I made. He’s non verbal still. Going to work was my saving grace but with this virus I remember why I hate the life I’m living. I listened to all those bullsh** people in the Down syndrome group about how great life is with our kids. I wish I could turn the clock back around , ignore those people, and terminated. For now i am trapped. And no one understands

I too chose to terminate a Down syndrome pregnancy. But the baby had so many other physical issues. I can’t say I blame how you feel. I have several friends who have teenagers and adults with Down syndrome and I see them secretly struggle. Just know so many moms out there are probably struggling but refuse to admit it

I’ll go first, I convinced someone to not kill themself because I needed their rent money, I can’t afford to live where I do without it. I know there’s many other reasons I could have done it but that was the only one I thought of that night, “if they do it then I’ll have to move”

My mom used to call me in a very specific notable way so that I could find her in a crowd of people. Well these girls in elementary school started calling me that way in the hallway to mock me. Because my mom had done it since I was a toddler, I immediately would whip my head around every time and they’d laugh. Teachers did nothing, counselors did nothing. So I got a notebook and had my entire class ~80 people sign it for fun. Then at the top I wrote “Sign here if you think Taylor is gross” Then I gave it to her and she cried. Edit for clarity: Taylor was the lead bully who told all the other girls about how my mom would call me, we used to be friends at one point.

Makes me sound horrible. I know. I would never say this out loud to anyone ever. Though I said daughter, she wasn't technically my daughter. She was my sister's child. My sister OD'ed when the baby was around a year old. I was 19 at that time and in college. I got custody. I never wanted children. I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to go a different path than the path my family took. But I felt responsible to take her in. So, I dropped out. Took care of her. Loved her. Life was hard but we got by. I was working any jobs I could get and I didn't have any life. I didn't have any friends. I didn't have any time to date. I was either working or at home taking care of her. At times, I felt like I didn't even have time to breathe. 6 years passed. One day, her school bus was in an accident. 3 children died that day including my daughter. I was devastated at first. Depressed. Lost. I was even homeless for a little while. I didn't have any family. I didn't have any friends. All I had was haunted memories in that city. So, I moved to a different city to get a fresh start. Reapplied for college. Graduated. Currently, I am in year one of medical school. I got married a few months back. I feel like finally I am living the life that I wanted to live. Achieving what I wanted to achieve. Take a different path. Do something different. Live a better life than my alcoholic father, runaway mother and drug addicted sister. I loved her. I would have taken care of her like my child if she had lived. I know that. But there is a part of me that is glad that she is gone. It makes me a horrible person. I already know that. But, still I am glad.

Good job for taking care of her, even when you didn't want children. Life gave you lemons, you made the best of it. Honestly, I can't blame you too much that a part of you is happy the lemons are gone, though not everyone will agree with me there.

Warning: long and slightly TMI post ahead I had sex for the first time in high school. I was 16 and all of my friends were doing it, so I hooked up with this girl at a party. It was alright, but it was a little gross and kinda wet, and I wasn't really into boobs like my friends were. I got off just fine, but it was just *fine*, not mind-blowing. I had sex again a few times after that, but not as consistently as other people I knew, and my friends thought I was weird for not liking sex. I grew older just believing that sex wasn't my thing, and that it somehow made me weird. I wasn't constantly trying to hook up with girls, I wasn't interested in strip clubs, I would almost exclusively have sex when I was drunk (just because I'm a horny drunk). I was fine with this fact. I was cool with not having sex and being a crazy horny maniac like most of the guys I knew. I only *recently* began to question my sexuality after having an undisclosed sex dream about an infamously attractive older male celebrity (explained in a previous post). Being the idiot I am, I had never even thought about possibly being gay before because *yeah, I've had sex with women, so I'm not gay*, right? Wrong. Anyway, it rocked me to my core a little more than it probably should have and I began to question my sexual orientation. I only know a few other queer men, but I was lucky to at least know a few. I turned to one of my best friends (let's call him Austin), who happens to be an openly bisexual man with a strong preference for men. Austin basically laughed and told me that I was probably gay, but was very gentle and understanding about it as well. His advice was to basically, I quote, "go out and get fucked." Shockingly, I know, I was hesitant. I explained my reservations about the idea: many things along the lines of "I don't want my first time to be a stranger," "I don't want to be awkward," "I don't want to get hurt trying to experiment with someone who is unfamiliar with ass-virgins," etcetera. Austin came up with the brilliant idea to be my first, which I actually thought was a good plan. One, I knew it wouldn't fuck up our friendship because we were helping each other out. And two, he knows me and would know what to do if it did come to, y'know, taking my *buttginity.* A few days later, I was at Austin's house playing Mario Kart, as adult men do. I decided to initiate something because I knew he wouldn't, so I told him I wanted to figure stuff out and then I kissed him. It was my first time kissing a man, *ever,* but I immediately knew that I was definitely gay. It felt like something completely new, and it made my brain a little fuzzy. Now, I won't go into the details, but one thing led to another and we ended up having sex. It was insurmountably more pleasant than sex with a woman in my not-so-vast experience. Austin definitely got the job done and I hit a record time, if you catch my drift. I told him afterward that I was definitely gay and before I even realized what I was doing, I kissed him again, this time without any sexual intention. I fell asleep with him, like an idiot, despite us originally agreeing that there were not to be strings attached. So, I unintentionally attached strings, I think. This happened yesterday. Incredibly recently. As in, I am writing this *in his bathroom* right now. I haven't seen him today and I am slightly afraid to face him because I don't know what he thinks about last night or if he believes I was trying to initiate something romantic. Hell, even *I* don't know if I was trying to initiate something romantic. I think I will take a shower and see him once I calm down. There may be a follow-up post if anything noteworthy occurs. TL;DR, I just had sex with my best friend, found out I was gay, and am about to face him for the first time since last night.

Good for you for experimenting and trying to figure things out. Sexual identity can be a long journey to figure out exactly how you feel. As for the whole romantic concerns things, to me a bit of cuddling and falling asleep is not a huge deal, so probably don't worry about it. Humans release a lot of chemicals and hormones into our brains when we have sex so some feelings get really exagerated right after. Doesn't mean any thing really unless you want it to. Good you had a safe person to try things with. Best of luck on your journey.

There is a reason for everything. I will never forget how this white woman made me feel. April 2016. 10pm at night and I get a little hungry and decide to head to the nearest store to grab some food. It would be closer to walk than to drive so I head out the door and proceed to walk the two blocks to the store. The streets are quiet and empty and to the far distance, I see a white woman park her car and walk to her apartment entrence. She sees me from the corner of her eye and I can tell she's nervous. She proceeds to put the key in the door lock to open but by this time she is shaking and drops the key. By then, I've gotten closer and am only about 20 feet away from her. She looks at me terror-stricken and begins to scream from the top of her lungs, banging on the door for help. I proceed to walk right past her and head to the store. I didn't do anything. I was just a black man walking to get some food. And for some reason, I couldn't help but think I was the one in the wrong. I felt guilty for making her feel so scared. From then on, anytime I come across a woman at night, I walk to the other side of the street so she feels safe and isn't threatened by me. It's sad this is what I have to resort to but until black people stop being labeled and stereotyped, myself along with other black men in this country will have to resort to similar measures.

I'm not even black and I do this, too, but for pretty much any girl I cross paths with at night. To be honest it makes me feel kind of bad about myself every time. I don't want to scare anyone. That lady sounds a bit crazy, though... (EDIT: I understand that trauma may have played a part in it but I didn't think of this possibility when I first commented. Thanks to everyone who have pointed this out.)

To put it simply I am fat. I'm not big boned, not husky, chunky, or have a thyroid condition. I am simply fat due to eating too much and moving too little. I do not like being fat. So tonight I'm going to bed at 8 so that I can get up at 4 in the morning and run my fat little ass down the road and back and still have time to get ready for work. I've already went running two times this week. I was supposed to go this morning but I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed in time. I'm disappointed in myself at this and with any luck I will do what I need to do tomorrow. Edit: right now my short term goal is to get to my proper weight but long term goal is to have a stomach that women could do their laundry on. 2nd Edit: For any who care I did go running that morning.

One day at a time. You’re on the right track!