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.......

Without writing an entire backstory, for the past couple weeks I've been tired, and stressed about the future. Tonight I decided to do something to myself that I felt like I had control over. I was really trying not to do it until I was taking a long shower and there was nothing to distract my thoughts. After I dried off and put on my clothes I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a serrated knife and used it on my left forearm. I was really feeling an adrenaline rush and I didn't press down hard enough the first time so I tried again a little harder. I waited a moment and saw a little bit of blood coming out so I did it again 3 more times with the same strength. The feelings I felt were so euphoric an I couldn't believe how easy it was to cut myself. I didn't feel much pain since the cuts were shallow and about an inch long at the longest. I spent a little while admiring the specks of blood bubbling up between the cuts I had just made. Then I had got very nauseous because the emotions were making my head spin really bad. So I decided to grab some hand soap and squirt it out across my four cuts and then I used a wet paper towel to kind of pat the soap in to make sure it was cleaned. As I'm writing this some blood started to bubble out my last two cuts again, I think I moved my arm too much. I know everyone will say get help or talk to someone but how the fuck am I going to explain to anyone that I'm some crazy person who enjoyed slicing themselves open not once but 4 times? I don't think I want to cut again because my head is still hurting after what I just did so I think I'll drink some water and turn on Breaking Bad since I was watching that earlier. I'm sorry to whoever's time I wasted by typing this out I just had to say something about this.

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

A couple years ago I bought a pressure washer for a one time project, a big deck cleaning job at my parents' place. I only needed it for that one weekend, and it was expensive enough that I didn't want to just eat the cost for something I'd probably never use again.

After I finished the job, I cleaned it up carefully, repacked it in the original box exactly how it came, kept all the tags and manuals inside, and brought it back to the store about two weeks later claiming I'd "changed my mind" and never used it. The return policy technically allowed returns within 30 days for basically any reason, so nothing about the process itself was against the rules, but I knew what I was doing wasn't really what that policy was meant for. I got a full refund, no questions asked.

At the time I told myself it was a smart move, everyone finds loopholes, no harm done to an individual person. But looking back, that's not really true. Someone somewhere absorbs that cost eventually, whether it's the store adjusting prices, employees dealing with return policies getting stricter because of people like me, or it just quietly padding into shrink that gets written off in ways that affect other people down the line.

I haven't done anything like that since, but I still think about how easily I justified it in the moment, like using an item and then pretending I hadn't was just a clever hack instead of something dishonest. It wasn't illegal, but it wasn't right either, and I regret treating a return policy as something to exploit instead of what it was actually meant for.

I was just crafting last night but I couldn’t help but do it again, and now I wanna do it again and again, last time before I stayed clean, I stopped because it started getting into suicidal territory, I stopped because I was forced to but other than that i definitely wanted it to go that way, I can’t believe I did it again last night, i got really scared when I saw completely white then it didn’t stop bleeding, it was so scary but now I wanna do it again, and deeper. And it’s not even like I see it as a distraction or that it feels good like some most people express it, but as something I deserve, when I get to anxious, when I embarrass myself or think I did so, and with rsd, I can’t help but almost always think that, I see it as almost a punishment, when I said an opinion and my friend misunderstood me really bad, I felt like shit for even saying a word in first place I felt so stupid I cried I thought my friend would see me as a weirdo forever, i absolutely feel like an idiot. Maybe that’s what caused me to do it again last night, everything always feels like my fault and that I deserve punishment, besides the fact that I get absolutely brutally punished in other ways from people around me, I’m tired

It happened over 12 years ago, back in high school.

This girl let's call her Kelly was a constant presence in the classroom; she would even record assignments for the teachers whenever they forgot them. At first, she was a decent person, but suddenly, the power went to her head.

She started policing the classroom and blowing trivial things out of proportion like the time she reported me to the principal for inappropriately kissing another female classmate. It was just a quick, childish kiss lasting about seven seconds but she claimed it was intense and that we were touching each other too intimately. That got both of us into serious trouble.

My revenge carried out with two other friends involved creating a fake Facebook profile for the boy we thought she liked and posting nice things about her just to mock her. But we never thought Kelly would actually confess her feelings to that boy; we assumed it was just an online crush and nothing more. We never imagined the boy would be cruel enough to humiliate her in front of the whole class and make her cry so much that she ended up switching classes. We thought it was just payback, but looking back, it was immature to toy with an innocent girl's feelings. I ran into her at the market recently, and she told me she’s never had a partner because of that incident; I felt a profound sense of remorse.

I still feel guilty about this, even though it happened over a year ago.

I worked with someone who constantly left dirty dishes in the shared kitchen and never cleaned up after themselves. Everyone complained about it, but nobody wanted to confront them directly. I let my frustration build instead of dealing with it like an adult.

One afternoon I saw their lunch sitting in the office refrigerator. For some reason I convinced myself that throwing it away would somehow teach them a lesson. I waited until nobody was around, tossed it in the trash, and acted surprised later when they couldn't find it.

They spent the rest of the day wondering if they had misplaced it or if someone had accidentally taken it. Watching them search for it made me realize how childish I had been. They never found out it was me.

The worst part is that I wasn't trying to solve the problem. I just wanted them to feel as annoyed as I had been feeling. It didn't improve anything, and the kitchen stayed just as messy afterward.

I've never told anyone because it's embarrassing to admit that I handled my frustration in such a petty way. Looking back, I should have either spoken to them directly or brought it up with a manager instead of taking my anger out on their lunch.

I honestly regret doing it, and it's one of those small moments that still pops into my head and makes me cringe.

Throwaway for obvious reasons.

When I was younger, I hated my life. I felt depressed because of my family situations that I had and did alot of drugs. I would go sleepless from meth withdrawals during the night and lure cats on the street to kidnap them.

I know that isn’t a valid excuse for what I did. Nothing would be. What I’ve done is so shameful that I don’t know if I can ever be forgiven for it.

Late at night, one of the small kittens that I lured using cat food kept scratching at the front door of our house, probably because it was so hungry and I hadn’t fed it enough. I opened the door very angrily for reasons I don’t remember and don’t want to remember and kicked it with full force into a fence, effectively ending its life. It couldn’t withstand the force that I used because it was at most 2 months old. I quickly got something to put it in and disposed of it in a large garbage bin near my house. I was never blamed or caught for this. To this day the thing that I’ve done haunts me and I try everything I can to make it up even a little.

I was 14 back then. I couldn’t stomach what I’ve done and wanted to escape from it by any means neccesary so i used even more drugs. 6 years after abusing drugs almost every day that was possible, I finally got sober. Now I’m alot older and I’ve finished med school. I am now in training to become a licensed cardiologist to help as many people as I can live long lives. That’s how my brain rationalizes how I can repent for my actions. At home, I have 4 cats I’ve saved from shelters and paid fully for surgeries that they could not have lived without otherwise. I deeply care for the cats and would never do the thing I’ve done before to them over my dead body. I’ve gotten the necessary help by going to therapy and going on proper anti-depressants instead of drugs and alcohol, which I’ve been sober of for the past 14 years.

I don’t expect anyone to forgive me or have any sympathy for me. All I want to do is write it out so I can stop holding it in my chest so much. I will never feel good about myself ever, so there’s no need for bringing me down. I already am.

I am 14 years old now and I experienced bullimia, ed, unsupportive parents, bullying, height insecurity, insomnia, ocd, failing grades and ect. I can tell where this is all going and there is no stopping it. I'm scared to do it. I just want to slip away peacefully without pain. I don't even know how to set up a rope and I'm afraid to jump off a 14th story building.

A few years back, the engagement of my best friend ended because of an anonymous message I sent to her fiancé's ex, creating enough doubt about him just before the marriage ceremony. It was me. I was having a tough time and couldn't bear to see her live a life without me. Everything went according to plan. He was made to pay the price for talking to his ex-girlfriend, and they split up.

I stayed by her side when they broke up. Consoled her when she cried, packed his stuff for her, made her realize how much better she could have been. What she didn't know was that the man who had betrayed her was sitting next to her.

Now I wonder whether it was from love or desperation that I did what I did. And I'll probably never tell her either.

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 person was the new partner of an ex, while they were engaged. I was at a pretty low point in my life and a jealous person. I don't even know the guy personally (the only things I know about him are through social media) and he has no idea who I am, but he seemed like a decent person (worked at a school, volunteered at a shelter).

Their engagement broke off and this relapse was likely a factor in it.

i met this woman on hinge, and we both then started on ig. i masturbated to her posts and when i realized what i have done a couple weeks after, i went and apologised to her and practically ruined her day. i was and still am very guilty for doing that to her, but should have kept that to myself. shouldnt have told her the information but i fucked up.

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 23F had a thing with my classmate 21M for 5 months. Im already not proud of this story for a few reasons ( we were each others rebounds, things got messy and i felt like iwas being a doormat and letting him cross many boundaries ,,,). Things ended a while ago but i had remaining for anger so i decided to message to let some things out that i held too long for myself. I know i fucked up and that i should’ve focused on growing and moving on, i really do.

I ended up messaging him from a second ig account of mine he added me on where i wasn’t blocked to confront him about. I wrote angry messages, some were insulting but mostly things like wishing i never met him, that he blamed me for his shortcomings and academic results while in reality he was the one who didn’t study, and some things he told me about his ex, about how he ruined my life for few months etc,,. I felt half ashamed about it but i also was hurt and it was liberating.

Well fast forward, this guy exposes me in the class group chat except he stretches the story to oblivion, he accused me for stalking him near his home ( i dont even know where he lives he’s the one who used to come to my place and lives with his parents), of creating multiple accounts to message him while it was the same and shared part of screenshots) . I was wildly shocked, i never took him for the kind of person capable of doing that and most of all i feel like people won’t believe me as they don’t know which parts are or aren’t true.

I don’t know what to do, i denied and told him he’s always all talk and no action like usual, that he’s basically also harassing me for creating drama inside a groupchat designed to share homework to begin with then i left all of them. I feel like it was none of their businesses, and I was under shock so i didn’t even know what im supposed to say or not say i didnt even have it in my to defend myself. Technically my life now won’t be affected because most of my friends aren’t in school and the 2 people who were my friends dmd me to ask if im alright and sending me support although i have no idea what they actually thing. The rest are people i didnt exchange with since the year ended but i will be studying with some of them for the next ( and final) year.

Ive always the quiet girl next door, i have a good reputation everywhere even at work im liked by everyone , and i never had to deal with any gossip since highschool. I was looking forward to the next year but now idk what to do. I know i fucked up but reality is im lost and still under shock

26F here. i’m going to use code names for it all. this is a long story but i’ve finally got the balls to finally post this and let it all out, to try and free myself from the guilt i’m feeling and have been feeling for a while.

any judgement, advice, support, hate, give it to me. i want all sort of feedback as i know this is bad but i also need to know i’m not going crazy.

like i said, 26F. in 2011 i joined secondary school, where i met this guy called samuel. we were both extremely good at maths so we always stayed close. he was more of the nerdy type, and i was more of the “party animal”, if i should label it. this is anonymous so i have no shame to admit that i come from a well off family, so even at a young age i was in non school uniform day in my louboutin trainers, things like that, im still that kind of girl at heart.

we were polar opposites, but we both shared the same humour, and we stayed close. like i said this was also influenced by our shared love for maths. we stayed close through maths competitions, out of school and in school, we were the top performers in our year group. nothing happened romantically between us, until year 10, and we dated for around 7-8 months if i remember correctly. that doesn’t seem like a long time, but it definitely was for secondary school, he was my first proper boyfriend and i was his first proper girlfriend.

we broke up but things were amicable, i feel like we were quite mature for our age due to different things that we both went through in our personal lives at young ages, which definitely mixed some trauma bonding in there too.

at the end of year 11, i was hosting an end of year / after prom party at my house. samuel felt uncomfortable coming, as we were close but we weren’t part of each other’s friend groups. i urged him to come, and i told him to bring a friend if he felt that uncomfortable. so he did, he brought his friend johnathan with him.

i’d heard of johnathan over the years briefly, his childhood best friend from primary school, but he ended up going to a different secondary school in our town. me and johnathan really hit it off, we got on really well and we started dating, at 16.

like i said due to my maturity at my age, things moved quickly with johnathan. he was my first “time”, and i truly felt like he was the love of my life. and i did enjoy him being samuel’s closest friend, so samuel was very much still involved in my life even after school.

we got engaged very young, and we got married just two weeks before my 19th birthday. we both shared extremely old fashioned views, traditional views if you must. it was a gorgeous wedding, in a church, i honestly have tears in my eyes just writing about it. my parents bought us a house, and we were really happy. at my wedding, samuel was the best man, and he introduced his new girlfriend to us, called amanda.

amanda came along to the wedding as a plus one, and she even met samuel’s family at the wedding too (that’s how deep the familial ties are between samuel and johnathans family, as well as samuel and mine).

but a few weeks after my wedding i made a huge mistake. i slept with samuel. i can’t remember much of it, and johnathan never found out. it was a drunk mistake, i was just 19. i called the “affair” off, i didn’t want to pursue anything else, i had just married his best friend, and id never slept with anybody else apart from my husband up until that point.

my marriage was good, really good. people thought we wouldn’t last because of our age. we’d go clubbing together, go on late night drives. we had our ups and our downs, we were serious, jokey, i truly felt like i’d spend the rest of my life with johnathan (think you know where this is going).

just three years after i got married, samuel and amanda were getting married. at this point me and amanda didn’t really get along. she knew about me and samuel dating back in school (as did johnathan, but he didn’t care and certainly wasn’t threatened by samuel). i’m not sure if amanda was threatened, i don’t know what it was, but we just didn’t gel at all.

backtracking now, around a year after i got married, i personally got into some trouble legally. i made a big mistake, and i still regret it to this day. my husband stood by my side, and samuel supported me and my husband too. who didn’t? amanda. she urged samuel to stay away from us, more particularly me.

samuel didn’t listen to her, maybe that’s where her grudge against me started, i’m not sure.

like i said, they ended up getting married, and things were okay. we did double dates, and when me and amanda did get along we actually went abroad to turkey together, on a couples holiday. it was really fun. and i never thought about the mistake me and samuel made years ago at this point, it didn’t affect me.

i never wanted kids going into my marriage. but to cut a long story short, typing this now ive miscarried three children, with the second time being twins. i’m not going to write a lot on it as it’s still raw and i think even now im not quite sure how to grieve.

after my miscarriage with twins, me and johnathan couldn’t do it. we’d moved into a big house next door to my parents, i’d been a maths teacher for a few years at this point, business was going well for johnathan with him co-owning a restaurant and bar with his parents. things were really good in that aspect, but neither of us could move forward having to grieve yet again, and this time it being with two babies.

i miscarried in the february, and in the august i filed for divorce. it sounds silly but i moved out (next door to my parents’ house). at this point samuel and amanda had moved up to edinburgh, a job opportunity had come up for her. we didn’t speak much to them at this point, i think johnathan and samuel did speak, but my communication with both of them was very limited, naturally. and i couldn’t stand amanda to be fair.

in the october, i was back in the house, and johnathan had leased a terraced house nearby. i still had love for him, you can’t just turn your love off like that, he was my husband, my world.

what happens next i do not want to be judged for. i was young and naive, and i grew up to trust and commit myself to my husband.

after my legal trouble years ago, an investigation was launched on me and my husband. i don’t know the ins and outs even now, but they were thoroughly investigating the finances of me and johnathan. it wasn’t good at all. like i said i was naive, if my husband told me to sign a letter, i signed it. i didn’t know any better, and i never was given a reason to not trust my husband.

in the same month, october, we were “caught”. multiple counts of fraud, tax evasion (him, not me), fraud on our mortgage etc. we were getting divorced at this point, but legal proceedings were put on hold.

i’m looking back at what i’ve written and it’s a lot so im going to try and wrap this up. we both pleaded guilty in april last year, and in july we were both sentenced.

i didn’t get any prison time, just a shit tonne of money to pay back, it was awful but i take full responsibility for it. johnathan was sentenced to prison for almost 4 years.

this was so tough for me, i was divorcing the love of my life because of a tragedy, and it now feels like i have to grieve someone im not allowed to grieve, all over again. his sentence began last september, and our divorce finalised two weeks later at the beginning of october.

but in the midst of all this, last january (2025) the school i work at announced there was a new maths teacher joining. i had no communication with samuel specifically since before id filed for divorce.

but, he was the new maths teacher. he’d split up from amanda the same month id left johnathan. this is where my memory / what id been told goes blurry. i don’t know if johnathan knew, if he did im confused on why i didn’t know, there’s still a lot of question marks regarding that period. but, i was too focused on trying not to put myself in prison if im being honest, the idea of it now even makes my hairs stand.

samuel seemed to be doing well, we got quite close again quickly, now working together. it was awkward at first sure, he told me about his new girlfriend from america (he’s big on american basketball, i think he met her there). he was at a good place in his life, even if he was back in his hometown living with his mum.

18 months since samuel has come back into my life, working alongside me, we’ve even introduced a new course together, we do well together, but… it comes with a price.

he goes and sees his american girlfriend quite often, during most half terms, she seems sweet over facetime. that’s my problem, ive spoken to her and she seems so sweet. and yeah, as you guessed it, me and samuel must’ve really missed each other, and i feel so guilty about it. he’s in america right now with her, but he’s still messaging me, facetiming me when she’s at work.

i hate it, but i can’t stop. sometimes i wish i married him instead of johnathan. but also sometimes when im “intimate” with samuel, i close my eyes and think of my ex husband.

i feel like such a piece of shit when i think about it, when i talk about it with samuel, even writing this now. johnathans nearly a year into his prison sentence, samuel’s poor girlfriend is super happy with him, and i feel like such an ass.

i’m with samuel every working day, our classrooms are across the hallway from each other. he even walks me to my car now. i’m so filled with guilt, but the want fills me up so much more and i hate it.

i’ve missed out so many details on here so i apologise if this doesn’t make sense, but i already feel like such a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

hi I’m ethan and this is the story about how I figured out that I wanna be a girl or at lease I felt like it at the time you see the year is 2025 around October I had just gotten off of xc practice and it was almost 6:00 pm which means the cheer coach had left her office for the day and the entire time I was at this particular high school I fantasized about being a cheerleader being cute having gal pals and twirling around in little cheer skirts I wasn’t very handsome looking at the time I was about 5’11 and I was nerdy with glasses and highlighted blonde hair and when I saw the cheer coaches office unlocked I went inside and I saw it all the cheer uniforms that the girls have been wearing so being the fantasied teenager that gets turned on by the though of being a cheerleader i opened up both my athletic bags and stuff as much as could in there and when I got home with all of em I tried them on they were tight kinda hard to breath in but it felt right in a way after that I hid them away I still wear them every once in a while but they never found out it was me

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.

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.

Three years ago I volunteered to coordinate a food drive at my workplace. People brought in canned goods, pasta, rice, all sorts of stuff for families in need during the holidays. My job was to sort everything, box it up, and deliver it to the local food bank.

I was going through a rough patch financially. My hours had been cut and I was behind on bills. When I saw all that food piling up in the storage room, I started taking things. Not huge amounts at first, just a few cans here and there that I figured wouldnt be missed. Then it became more. I probably took home about 30 percent of what was donated over the two week collection period.

I told myself I needed it more than some abstract family I'd never meet. I convinced myself the food bank probably had plenty anyway. But I knew it was wrong the whole time. I delivered the rest of the donations and everyone thanked me for doing such a great job organizing everything. I even got a little recognition award from my manager.

The worst part is I never really needed to do it. I could have asked family for help or gone to that same food bank myself. Instead I stole from people who trusted me and from families who actually needed that food. I think about it whenever I see donation bins now and I feel sick. Nobody ever found out but I still carry it around. I wish I could go back and just be honest about my situation instead of taking what wasnt mine.

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.

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.

We were both drunk and having a sleepover and her butt was pressed up against my stomach and I put my foot close to her foot and started playing footsie until she moved her foot away. Then the next sleepover I tried to play footsie again with her but she moved her foot away again.

Hello guys. i have a problem thats been from my childhood, the problem is that i can get dopamine from literally tormenting animals. ever i was a kid i was tormenting animals (not like punching or kicking them) i was tormenting by messing them around or worser, i remember when i was 7 years old i found a dog in my village, and i was trhowing him and getting him up because i was getting dopamine from that, and when im lived in Russia i had a cat, i dont remember really but i know a little when i was playing with it and wasnt understanding that i was injuring cat. then a year ago i had a cat again Sofi, she was beautiful but i was mocking it and also one time because of emotions i kicked it really hard. im still feeling bad about it nowadays, im 13 and i got a cat, we named her erina, my mother and father are in russia so i live with only my older sister, because of emotions again i way messing cat around that hard that he car ven cried a little, but i wasnt understanding why i did that when i finally realised that i got dopamine from tormenting animals. i thought about abandoning the cat because i wanted to not make any harm to it again, but because of my religion i cant do that, so please help me with my worst habit. update: i was doing it mostly because of anger and strong negative emotions, when i was mocking my cat i didnt understanded why i did that and whats wrong with. so i just sat there crying and regreting everything. u can write me negative comments because i know that im a bad person. and if u tell me "therapy" in my country Uzbekistan therapy cost a lot of money so its a luxury i cant really afford. also the tormenting is really rare in my behavior, i really love animals, but because of emotions i cant get really angry over nothing, and realeese my anger on something else like tables, i hate myself for doing all of this, i usually regret doing that and asking sorry for my cat because i was angry at my fuckass. today im tying my best to not harm my cat. updateAgainBruh: so i dont really torment them brutally its just tweaking them but its still very bad, and i dont punch my cat whenever i get angry or 24/7. also abt dopamine, yes i get the dop. but i usually then regret everything, and only time i did really make a hard move, its the time i kicked my cat, i know thats very bad, but i did it because of anger and emotions, when i get angry i just cant control myself and i usually get crazy. for everyone. no i dont torment them brutally and do this 24/7, i cant confess to the police and doctors because in my country people literally do not care about animals. also please be polite because being rude not always makes everything better