A few years ago, I was in a relationship with someone who kept private notes on their phone.

They were not hiding anything from me. It was mostly personal thoughts, worries, things they wanted to work on, and small reminders about what made them feel loved or neglected. One night, while they were asleep, I looked through those notes. I told myself I was doing it because I wanted to understand them better, but that was not the honest reason. I was insecure and wanted an advantage. I wanted to know what they were thinking without having to ask and risk hearing something uncomfortable.

After that, I started using what I had read. If they wrote that they felt I never noticed small efforts, I suddenly became better at noticing them. If they wrote that they missed a specific kind of affection, I started doing that exact thing. If they wrote that a certain argument had hurt them more than they admitted, I brought it up later like I had realized it on my own. They thought I was becoming more emotionally aware. I let them believe that.

The relationship eventually ended for other reasons, but they once told me that one of the hardest parts was losing someone who had “finally learned how to understand them.” That sentence still makes me feel sick.

I did not understand them better. I violated their privacy and then used what I found to make myself look like a better partner than I was.

One of my neighbors owned a MASSIVE German shepherd for years, and would quite literally never walk it with a leash; additionally roughly once a month it would break out of their back yard to wreak havoc.

It’s apparent the dog was never trained at all, the dog not once throughout the years was seen listening to any command from the neighbor; it was really more like my neighbor was the dog’s pet.

When I say “massive”, I’m just over 6’6”, and numerous times when I’d be unloading groceries, working in my garage etc; this dog would jump all over me, and it’s paws would lap over my shoulders while scratching TF out of my neck; and nip at my legs if I had groceries.

Throughout the years it killed two smaller dogs, three cats, and mauled a little girl’s face which resulted in her losing half of her nose. The owner is a cop, and the city literally NEVER did anything over the years.

So, one night I ground up roughly 200mg of Oxycodone that had been marinating in my cabinet for a solid year, made a delicious meatball, cooked it, opened it up, poured in the powder, coated it with butter, and then briefly cooked it just to ensure it stayed sealed.

Later that evening I went for a walk, and inconspicuously lobbed the meatball in to the neighbor’s backyard

RIP Striker.

Edit: Rule #1 defeats the entire purpose of this sub FYI.

I am 25 now, but back when I was younger (13 years old) I took a bag of my mother's breast milk out of the fridge to try it. I ended up loving the taste of the breast milk and ended up drinking most of it, and what was left I dumped down the toilet and flushed away the evidence. My mother had asked where the breast milk had gone, she asked my father and he said that he didn't know, but she didn't believe him anyway so I got away with it. (it was a complex relationship) They fought over the missing milk for months with my mother thinking that my father was a pervert for drinking the milk. They have since separated and they both still don't know that I was the one who took the milk. I've been wanting to confess to them for years, but I'm worried that it will separate me from the family even more.

A friend and I were both interested in the same internal position at work. They were more qualified than I was. They had better relationships with the team, more experience, and honestly, I think they would have done the job better. They were also nervous about applying because they had been rejected for a promotion before and took it very personally.

Instead of encouraging them, I leaned into that fear. I told them the company probably already had someone in mind. I said applying might make them look desperate. I reminded them how badly the last rejection had affected them and framed it like I was protecting their confidence.

I acted concerned, but I knew exactly what I was doing. They decided not to apply. I did. I got the position.

The worst part is that they congratulated me and said they were glad one of us went for it. They even told me later that maybe they had been too afraid to try.

I still work with them. They still trust me. And every time they talk about wanting to be more confident, I think about the fact that I didn’t just take an opportunity. I helped convince them they were safer staying small.

The man was abusive, controlling, I wasn’t allowed to have friends, he sold my car years ago so only he could control where I went and when with his car and him driving, he controlled the money despite the last two years being me who worked 3 jobs while he sat at home doing nothing and me who paid all the bills and so much more I could go into, yet somehow my life with him seemed 10x better than it is right now. I had to move home which is embarrassing enough, I haven’t been able to get a job because the remote work market is so saturated and I have no car or month to get a car, I’m barely getting interviews and the ones I have gotten didnt end in a job offer, I have —$1700 to my name, credit cards going into collections and I see no end to this awful struggle in sight. I should’ve stayed, maybe he’ll take me back, at least I had steady income, a place to live that wasn’t my parents and somewhat of an independent life. Or maybe I’d be better off dead, honestly anything but this endless, embarrassing struggle of not being able to find a job and living with my parents for months.

For context: My mom has this friend (I'll call Stacy) who she's known before I was born, they are still very good friends, Stacy has a older son who (I'll call John), a younger son (I'll call Mark), daughter who I'll just refer to as their sister and a husband was always at work barely even met him.

Back then I (male) was like 3 to 5 (can't really remember the age all i know i didn't go to school yet), used to go with my mom to Stacy's house and I'd play with Mark (he was at least 5 years older than me), he wasn't always available because he used to go play football a lot with the neighborhood kids(My mom wouldn't let me go play with them) , my mom and Stacy along with more women from our neighborhood started meeting more often, they'd meet up about 3 times a week.

At some point, John started showing up sometimes he would join in the conversations or even play cards with the women, then he invited me to play on his computer (To be more exact this was a family computer in the living room, I believe the game was gta liberty city) I was very thrilled to play considering at that age all I cared about was playing and having fun, so I started to ask myself to go over to play, all I had was a old tablet that barely ran anything and John introduced to a whole world of games.

The apartment we lived in was 10 min walk away from their house so I could only go in my mom was taking me, then one day in instead of staying in Stacy's apartment the woman decided to go to another woman's apartment (they lived in the same building) and Mark went go to play football and I was left alone with the pc John, at first it was normal I was just playing then John told me to come as he had something to show me, we went to the bathroom where he locked the door, I was a dumb kid looking back because that should've sent a signal to my brain that something bad would happen but I loved John so much he was like my older brother I trusted him and thought nothing of this, he proceeded to remove my pants and yeah I was touched.

I remember telling him "why are we doing this" and "is this really okay?" his response? "Don't you like playing on the computer? so let me do this it makes me happy", after he was done touching me I went back to playing and yeah that was it for that day, over the following months it became a norm to me that John would take me to the bathroom or his room, he'd wait on days when house was empty so he can touch me, but I wish it stopped at touching as he started pulling his pants off and "teaching stuff" I shouldn't be taught as a kid.

Such as what would happen if I make "happy" and how to make him "happy", I felt like I needed to listen because he wouldn't let me play on his computer, it kept going on for months touching, being forced to taste his cum and jerking him off, and one day he didn't take me to the bathroom or his room but in the living room and he locked the door, he told to go to the couch and bend myself where the arm rest is, then he pulled my pants of and tried to force himself on me but it didn't work so he went out and got some sort of oil or something and applied on me then he proceeded to rape me, and it hurt like hell.

He of course told me not to tell anyone and my dumbass kid brain said okay, thing is I wasn't scared as he didn't threaten me I was hurt badly and didn't want it to happen again I trusted him that much, he left me to play on the computer, I couldn't play because all that was in my head was that John hurt me.

That was my breaking point, I stop coming over and I would beg my mom not to take with her, I hated going there. My mom never took me again and eventually they moved far away too, so seeing John again was finally off the table, some times years later I did see John again, like when Mark graduated high school or when their sister finish her bachelor degree, once me and my brother went on a camping trip with my brothers friends and John was there, I can tell in his eyes he knows and remembers.

Now more than a decade later I am grown and have been attending collage in a whole other country, I came back to see my family during the break and Stacy came by to see my mother, after she left i asked my mom how she was, during our conversation she mentioned John was now married for last couple of months not even a full year of marriage and that shit fucking shocked me, I asked more about him and it turns out he's doing really good in life, he has a stable job, a wife and house now.

And I can't lie I feel like killing him, he does not deserve this, not a fucking thing and all my family and his family thinks that he is making his family proud by being a man and a role model to mark and their sister, that is far beyond from the truth, I wish time would go back and I could tell my mom everything.

What sucks even more? he's very good friends with my older brother and he looks up to my brother which even further enrages me because he is nowhere near where my brother is, if my brother knew what he had done he would have killed him.

I do not wish Stacy's family any harm in any way they are good people, but I cant help but feel a need of revenge towards her disgusting and vile son. also if he will have a son or daughter may they never be put in the same situation as no kid should experience this but I can't lie and say I won't feel satisfaction. I can't hide the fact that I do sometimes pray that his son or daughter will face what I had to face from their father or get it even worse, it will make me happy. But although all the trauma that I am wishing upon his kids. I would never like to hear that type of news upon not only them but anyone.

I just really had to get this off my chest and I don't anyone irl to know about this.

Edit- never getting into a relationship and I mean it

I 23f fell in love with this guy.

We used to hold each and be together and love each other. The chemistry was insane and overpowering.

I am a conservative and traditional girl.

He asked me to sleep with him.

The pure love for him was so overpowering. I just wanted to be so close to him. Wtffff

That I did sleep with him and he broke up with me spoon after.

I realized I went against my morals and slept with him and got fucked.

I feel dirty like a dirty white, a girl in love slept with a guy because she was in love and now got abandoned.

I got used and thrown. in my religion, premarital sex is a sin and now I am a sinner.

I wish he spared me some dignity and if didn't want to be with me forever haven't shown so much love and asked for sex.

There was no abuse nothing. He just gradually broke up with after sex.

Guess I should have known that people change all the time and one can breakup in the middle of cuddling also but the chemistry was so insane I was literally blind in love.

I use to think I was smart but the feeling of love blinded me. I am ashamed. I am ashamed and now I stay locked in my room. How easily can someone make me feel strong emotions and use me and leave me.

Many years ago now but in short:

I was seeing a girl for 18 months. I then discovered she was cheating on me. I kicked her out and dumped her and she remained with this guy. They met at work.

We both worked in the same city centre and as you do, you start work around the same time. I knew her pattern a bit. Anyway I saw she was with that guy a few times on their way to work.

Anyway I was still pissed off with the whole thing. He knew she was with me. She was just as bad of course. I orchestrated it so that not only would we bump into each other, but that we would do so in an area where I knew there were lots of cctv cameras. Words were said and this guy got aggressive. I remained calm on the surface but the words I said were to wind him up further. I wanted him to attack me in the centre.

He did, I fought him off - in defence. Then I pressed charges against him and gave his work address where the police arrested him on site. He lost his job and has a criminal record.

During my last year in graduate school, I was overwhelmed and couldn't finish my thesis on time to do research. So I ended up copying big chunks from several academic papers that were not popular enough for me to get caught using the plagiarism software at my university. And I graduated, using my degree to advance my whole career.

It has never been discovered. I built a successful career using my credentials which I earned not honestly, and I feel ashamed attending meetings when people assume my knowledge and skills come from honest work. I cannot confess because it is already too late and it will be very difficult for me to explain my situation, but I can't stop thinking about those researchers who never got credit for their hard work.

I (40m) was forced into a drug/robbery ring as a teen and I feel horrible about what I did and how I went about it.

This happened back when I was 15-17 years old but wasn’t coherent about my actions because of who it was and what they told me at the time.

Back when I was 15 in 2002, my cousins and I had a very close relationship. We all smoked weed but I knew my cousin had done harder drugs (coke and meth) but had never done them myself at that point. One day he asked me to do him a favor and grab something from a friends house. I didn’t know what it was and when I arrived I was met with the most absurd amount of crack in a cookie form that I have ever seen. I panicked and stuff what I could into my pockets and the rest in my mouth after I wrapped it in plastic wrap. My cousin told me I was helping him and helping my family by bringing in money since we were very poor living in Los Angeles back in the 90’s.

I dropped off his drugs and he handed me $200. Being a broke kid from South Central, who’s been homeless, sexually assaulted and abused most of his life seeing this money made me feel untouchable. I started doing drug movements for him since I was a metal head and most cops were messing with gangsters and drug dealers that fit the profile. And each day I was making close to 4-500 a day at 15.

A few months go by and he hands me a check and tells me to cash it with this ID and withdrawal the money once the checked cleared. What I didn’t know was the checks he was handing me were fake and he was outside verifying them with the bank to cash them instantly but would bounce within a few days. This went on for a few months before a large group of them got caught and it was shit down completely. But the drugs continued.

I continued doing the drug movements for him making several hundred a day. I only had one hiccup and LAPD had stopped me while I was carrying a Universal Studios bag and had about $2000 worth of material on me. I was able to toss it and the cops followed me home to make sure I was telling the truth that I lived in the area. I’ve never ran so fast back to get drugs for payment in my life.

I don’t know what the statute of limitations are but this was over 20 years ago and those who did it were caught and sent to jail while I quit all of that at 17 because my girlfriend (wife now) found out and forced me to change my ways and joined the army shortly after that.

I feel this brought a lot of unnecessary bad karma my way but have since found a better since I was a kid. Thankfully I had a strong person to push me for a better life.

My roommate has been using my makeup, wearing my clothes, and eating my food without asking for months. Since she refused to move out, I decided to pack up and find a new place myself.

I couldn't just leave quietly, though. Right before loading my last box, I dumped fine glitter over literally everything she owns. Good luck getting that out of a carpet or a sweater.

When I was in college I could either do a capstone project or an internship in my last semester, and I absolutely hated the idea of doing a capstone project.
I got an internship at a local business so I enrolled in the internship class for the semester. Maybe 6 weeks into the semester, the internship was awful and so boring. It wasnt at all what I thought Id be doing. I hated being there and I dreaded going. One friday I just left early on a day my boss wasnt there. The next monday, she asked me if anything had happened on Friday. I didnt come clean, and she told me she had asked someone else to keep an eye on me, and that person had told her I left early and didnt come back. She fired me that day, she told me she wanted it to be a lesson.

I told my career counselor at school that I lost the internship but I didnt go into details about the reason. I asked if I got another internship, if I could still graduate. At the internship I just got fired from, I had only done about 60 hours, and I needed 170 hours. She said yes, as long as I get to 170 hours between both internships, I could graduate.

I was telling my mom about the situation I got myself into. And it was her idea for me to "intern" at her medical clinic. She and I didnt have the same last name due to my parents being divorced, so we thought no one would bat an eye. And they didnt. She filled out all of the internship paper work for me. I never actually did any work for my mom's clinic. I lied about doing the rest of my hours at this fake internship. and I graduated.

I felt bad about it for a little bit, but I got my first job offer a few months after I graduated and I never looked back. And I definitely have never stolen time at a job ever again, so that boss did teach me something.

Edit: I did a legit internship in my second year so I dont feel bad about lying about the crappy one I mentioned in this post. Just because my good internship was in my 2nd year instead of my 4th year meant I had to do another one? How idiotic is that. No guilt from me anymore.

So I’ve leaned from a very early age that I was hyper sexual. I was assaulted when I was younger for about three years and it’s impacted a lot of stuff in my early teen years.

I’ve seen a therapist when this first all happened, but now I’m older and I’m in a committed relationship and sometimes I have the fear that it’s all I think about.

He is happy with our sex life and understands what I’m going through but I feel like I’m always wanting to have and sometimes I’ll do stuff to the point that I’m causing pain to myself because it’s not enough.

I’ve also realized I don’t feel loved if I’m not being sexualized and I fucking hate it.

It was her birthday party and everyone was having a good time and finally towards the end of the night i found myself at the end of the couch with her and she kissed me and then we went to bed. I feel absolutely terrible. I don’t know if my friend knows but the thoughts in the back of my mind knows it so wrong. We woke up and she said nothing happened so that’s good haha, but I just don’t know how to go about this now.

A few months ago I was helping someone organize files on their computer. While cleaning up old folders, I deleted one that I thought was a backup. It wasn't.

I tried everything I could think of to recover it. I got most of it back, but a few important files were gone for good.

When they asked what happened, I acted just as confused as they were. They ended up spending hours recreating the missing work while I sat there pretending I had no idea why it disappeared.

Nothing catastrophic came from it, but I still feel guilty every time they mention how stressful that week was. I could have admitted it at any point, but the longer I stayed quiet, the harder it became.

I don't think they'll ever know it was me.

A few months ago, our office kept a small cash jar for snacks and coffee. One afternoon I realized I'd forgotten my wallet, and I took some money from the jar telling myself I'd replace it the next day.

The next day turned into the next week, and then I just kept putting it off. It wasn't a huge amount, but every time I saw the jar, I felt guilty. Eventually someone mentioned that the money seemed to be disappearing, and everyone started wondering where it was going.

I stayed completely silent while people tried to figure it out. Nobody accused me directly, and someone even suggested they must have counted it wrong. I let them believe that because I didn't want to admit what I'd done.

I've since put the money back with extra, but I never confessed that I was the one who took it in the first place. What bothers me most isn't the money anymore it's that I let innocent people question themselves while I protected my own reputation.

I genuinely regret doing it. It was dishonest, and I still think about it more often than I probably should.

I love it all. Quite literally. I love my family kids, wife, job, friends. Did not have the best up bringing. But definitely wasn't the worse. Little bit of trauma. And even if so. It has 0 to do for what else I love. I'm sure I'm not the only one.

I love drugs. Like all drugs except fentanyl and heroin. But I think I've experimented with almost every drug out there. And all were great in there own way. Except for salvia. That was an experience I wish I could forget. I have always been pretty good. At hiding my drug life and my personal/professional life.

The problem.......

I never thought about not doing drugs until recently. And the thought when it popped in my head scared the shitt out of me. And now I'm not as happy about my use as I was. Has anyone ever felt this way. And what did you do. I'm worried all the things I'm interested in will not be interesting anymore. What if I'm not interesting anymore. I'm in my late 30s will I become some boring lop. And what about sex. Like drugs make sex so ridiculously finaminal. That it it's self is a drug. But I always thought I had control. But now I don't feel that way anymore. Is there a happy medium with drug and control? Or is it one or the other. Please no NA speaches. Or life after drugs bs. I want real honest opinions.

After getting fired last spring, I did not want to upset my parents with that information. Instead, every week I get up, get dressed, and continue to make them believe that I go to work by speaking on the phone with them. In fact, I have been doing freelance jobs and spending my savings on them just to survive.

What I started as a lie for not upsetting them turned into an elaborate lie which I cannot even imagine how to stop. They even ask me about people who worked there and whom I invented a story about months ago. They believe that I received a raise in the previous quarter. My mother even shared it with her friends that she is very proud of my "career success."

Every day it becomes more difficult to confess because the longer I keep lying, the more suspicious they will become. I am already avoiding talking to them on the phone because of that. I understand that I will have to tell them the truth sooner or later, and I am more afraid of that moment than

I(15F), have always known that I was different. Ever since I was like 11 that I was different. That was the age that I began to SH and attempt suicide. I’ve genuinely lost track of the amount of times I’ve attempted suicide, id literally go to the bathroom and try to strangle myself with a rope. This state of affairs continued until my mother found out. Instead of taking me to therapy,she chose to blame it on me and nake it on the internet? Being in such pain and having your mother chose not to help you and instead blame you really solidified my intense dislike of her.

In order to fulfil the desire for control that she has previously filled, i developed an eating disorder. My mother never noticed. I would skip breakfast, puke up school lunch and puke up dinner. I was often dizzy and had a hard time staying upright. My mother never noticed that I was starving myself. What she did notice was that I lost a lot of weight. Why was she never able to take action for my suffering? I’ve lost a lot of respect for her.

Eventually 6th grade ended and I just kinda stopped purging? I didn’t really have a safe space to do it with school out for the summer. And I went to church camp and made some new friends so that was nice as well.

Fast forward to 7th grade, im ostracized by my entire class because they see me as the weird depressed kid. This state of affairs continued until high school.

Now im surrounded by a bunch of fake friends who see me as a laughing stock and don’t really see me as human . They never reach out unless I reach out and actively seek to exclude me. It’s never going to get better and I’ll probably end up taking my life before I turn forty. I’ve resigned myself to this and really don’t see any other point of living. Maybe I’ll joking the Ukrainian foreign legion and die fighting Russian imperialism. Or those Mexican anarchists. Fuck if I know and fuck if I care

I lie a lot. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. I don’t just mean white lies like “I didn’t eat the last cookie”. I mean, I told a discord server I’m apart of, I got my jaw dislocated and was unable to talk for a week purely because I didn’t feel like talking for that week.

I write stories, I come up with a lot of stuff just off the top of my head and twist them into entertaining things that I can play in my mind or write down. But I also tend to just say things and tell people things purely because it may either fit the moment, it might make me more interesting, it could also just be me making an attempt to make the situation lighter.

I lie about why I do things sometimes, I don’t like being social so every now and then I’ll make up a lie to get myself out of a situation I agreed to be in, in the first place. Even if that situation is important to someone else.

I’ve lied about my health condition for no reason at all. I was at the store the other day and I was limping around with my cart purely because when I got out my car I tripped and I just kept limping. It got to a point where an employee was shadowing me because of how much I was exaggerating it while I used the cart for un-needed support.

I lie about common things more often than anything. Like doing assignments for my classes or looking for a job. I check the date, do when it’s due and hope there isn’t anything else I need to do and if there is then I just tell my professor things came up or whatever service I’m using is taking longer then it told me so I need to submit the work delayed. For work, I’ll click through the links my parents may send me, or links I find myself on a job search app/website, to find anything that makes me ineligible, sometimes I make it up, purely because I want to keep working for my moms business even though she doesn’t always need me.

If I’m ever caught in these lies, I tend to get myself out of it pretty easily but simply falling back onto my horrible memory and claiming it to be ‘misremembering’ considering the only real thing about it is that my memory is shot from multiple concussions.

I think one of the things that make me so believable is the fact I do a lot of favors for people or just am there for them a lot when things get tough.

I don’t know why it started, I don’t know when either. I just know that I need to stop doing it or else I’m gonna lie one too many times and everything around me will crumble.

I might delete this later but; For context I'm an Asian teen in highschool in bumfuck Canada, just moved here a few years after covid. I was pretty socially awkward and to the extent inept (maybe it was bc I'm autistic). I joined my school's discord server with all the people in the same grade as me. Though primarily most of the ppl there are Asian,I was semi tolerated by my peers until I ranted about autistic ppl on the server which got me made fun of. The reason for that was I asked one of my acquaintances whether my behavior is weird, then got offended by the answer.

In grade 10 it got worse, I "befriended" a student who was known for being a Nazi (or at least joked about being one). We didn't really have anything going, then I joked about drawing myself as sold on my student card, back on the server there still is quite some drama as this student told on me. I got harassed to the point I ended up telling my VP that the student who I talked to was the one who drew the picture.

I've been through the whims of bullying and have met ppl who didn't have enough love as a kid. I did apologize for what I did after being unbanned from the server.

Now mainly everyone either forgot about it or had some faint memory of the incident, I still keep to myself as most of the students don't seem to match my preferences in a friend tho I have good connections to some. I do have mutuals with some of my bullies yet they don't seem to harass me anymore, primarily because of how stressful school is now.

Besides the point I see this situation as a fish out of water,I was in a special education school before Canada, meaning the social cues were more obvious and in a way simpler. Alongside that, a lot of the people on the server were guys into history, the military or politics. I've talked to some people and they said the server is on a level pretty toxic with the Nazi jokes and what not teen boy humor.

That being said I do feel remorseful of my actions and am still learning from them. I took the time to understand what others around me are saying and even got to the point where I managed to land in a stable friend group of my own, even keeping in touch with some of the people I shared my antics with.

I grew up homeless in a toxic environment. I knew the evils that existed in the world and by age 6 I was stone cold. Whenever I did try to get help for anything I was always dismissed. I told my mom the horror stories that came from the addicts she forced us to live with while she stayed in a cozy motel room with her bf & she would tell me to suck it up bc her mom was worse. Oh and I was raising my 7younger siblings. Kids she kept having & leaving but I couldn’t say shxt bc “it could be worse.”

It’s always like that…I went to ANYONE with ears & they always told me to put my head down until I turned 18 bc it could be worse. I was there for myself and I accepted that most people are full of shxt & only help you when they expect something in return. I’ve taken myself out of that toxic environment and haven’t stepped foot in my hometown since I left at 18.

I have intense RBF & I’m usually described as mean or intimidating. I help people but I can’t stand a sob story. Just get straight to the point without all of the emotions & words bc it’s always just BS. It’s hard to connect with people bc I appear to lack compassion. I always think “If I did it with my shxtty circumstances so can you.” I tried therapy and each time I was referred to a different therapist after 1 session. Idk what it was that made them move me along but I’d rather not go thru that anymore. I’m giving up on myself.

20f Today my father call me a slut cuz I wanted a bob cut, but somehow I cut my hair...my mom also she verbally, physically beaten me....

Today night i asked permission to both of my parents to cut my hair, n they said yes in a not so interested way ....Idk what will happen tomorrow when they find out i actually cut my hair and it's a little short...im tooo much afraid.......