Have you ever had one of those days where everything goes wrong? Your alarm doesn't go off, your shower's out of hot water and then you rush to get to work on time only to get pulled over for a speeding ticket. If this sounds like something that only happens in movies, congratulations! You are not plagued by the same level of bad luck as these poor folks!
Enjoy these 16 stories, curated from Reddit, as these poor souls recount the worst days of their lives and be happy that you have never been as unlucky as them!
"My SO locked his keys in his car about 6 weeks ago. Well, only the hidden key that lives inside the fob. But you see, the "unlock" key on the fob is broken, so the key is required to enter the car, and the fob fits into the ignition.
He had no other choice than to open the trunk with the fob, punch out the small trunk access door that's behind the backseat armrest, find the lever to lower the rear seats by shoving his body through the tiny door, crawl through the car, and retrieve his key in the front seat. I also forgot to mention that the alarm was blaring this whole time. He finally gets through to the front seat, starts the car, and kills the alarm. Exhausted, with bloody knuckles and scrapes all over, he gets out of the car and shuts the door behind him.
It is then that he realized he had left the keys on the seat... Again. And the door had locked behind him. He turned and gave a swift punt to his tire out of frustration, immediately snapping his third metatarsal, breaking his foot.
He then had to repeat this scenario to get his keys out, this time with a broken foot. He just got his boot off last week."
"I was working for a large hotel chain in London for a few weeks, shooting interiors/exteriors for their brochures and I'd end up going from hotel to hotel meeting managers/assistants who would take me round the hotel all day while I took my photos. Knowing full well that no-one works in a hotel without acquiring some pretty amazing stories, I would interrogate each one for their most outrageous tales.
I got to hear a bunch of stories that ranged from fascinating to dull: The swinger parties, the famous faces cheating on their spouses, the occasional slaughtered goat in the bath (incredibly more common than you might think...) and the time that the cast of Friends stayed at the hotel while they were filming those episodes in London.
One story rose above the rest.
A gentleman, alone in his suite, woke up in the middle of the night with a DIRE need to unload his bowels. I mean a really, really desperate need, to the point that he must have woken up in a panic as he jumped out of bed, butt naked, bolted for the bathroom door and burst inside.
Except he didn't.
In his tired state, and no doubt thanks to his unfamiliarity with the hotel room, he bolted for the front door of the room by mistake and let the door shut behind him.
Now this man who both, lets not forget, feels an agonizing rumbling in his intestines and is as naked as the day he was born, suddenly finds himself in the corridor and panics. Understandably.
His desire to defecate is so strong that it overwhelms any other thought going through his head. He. Must. Poop.
He starts banging like a maniac on a neighboring door, hoping someone will answer, and eventually, someone does. A man opens up the door, probably assuming that a fire has started in the hotel and he's being woken up for an emergency evacuation. And in a sense, he's half right.
Our naked hero bursts into the room, pushing past the confused and bewildered occupant, apologizing along the way, and makes a break for the bathroom. But no. He doesn't make it. Half way there, his sphincter gives in to the pressure and he unloads a spray of effluent across the floor of the stranger. Some of the foulest smelling waste imaginable is dumped all over over the place in a mottled line, leading to the toilet. The rooms original occupant, who was up until this point, standing scared, bewildered and confused by the door still, immediately vomited.
To his credit, the digestively challenged man did make it to the sitting position in the bathroom, and sat there, crying and apologizing to the vomiting man and eventually the hotel staff, for a full 10 minutes while his gut punished him for some earlier indiscretion.
When the man had finished, the hotel moved the neighbors belongings (some of which were speckled with feces) to a new room.
But wait; it gets worse....
In the morning after the debacle, the poor guy walked into the restaurant for breakfast and who should be there but last nights victim, sat eating his cornflakes. The two apparently locked eyes, whereupon last nights memories must have come flooding back to the victim with a vengeance, because the poor man, in the middle of a crowded room full of people enjoying their food, immediately vomited all over the table."
"So I found out I had a huge tumor on my ovary. It was growing hair.
Then I got surgery to remove it and they found out I had stage 4 endometriosis which would severely impact future fertility.
Then I go home in extreme pain, I go to the ER that night because I am doubled over and screaming in pain. The ER tells me its residual gas from the laparoscopy.
So then I sit on my recliner for three days crying out in pain and vomiting every single thing I try to ingest. Not farting or belching at all like you need to do after a laparoscopy to get rid of the excess gas used to inflate the area they work on.
Then I have enough and get my husband to take me to a different hospital. They do a scan with contrast dye (boy was that difficult to keep down long enough for the scan) and they find out that I am bleeding internally and leaking poo into my abdominal cavity.
Then I get taken in for emergency surgery.
Before the surgery I am informed that there is also a huge tumor in the middle of my right ovary and would have to have it out. I could either do it then, or at a later date. I opt to do it then.
I wake up from the surgery after four days in a medically induced coma in a different hospital in the ICU. I am intubated and have a nasogastric tube. I panic and I see a nurse in the hall but can't get her attention. I undo my restraint on my left hand and yank out the tubes (you can rip out your vocal chords by doing that, luckily I didn't) and yell for help.
Then I proceed to spend weeks in the hospital recovering. Eating nothing but soup broth, I eventually get upgraded to ensure.
I get MRSA in the surgical wound and it takes a few rounds of very strong antibiotics to contend with it.
A bunch of my hair falls out.
I go home and can't bathe for a few weeks because the incision is still pretty much open (they didn't stitch the skin together). I have to have a home health nurse visit me every day to clean the wounds.
It takes about a year to heal.
I keep getting recurring MRSA infections in the top of the incision site inside of my belly button.
Whenever the MRSA comes back my belly button oozes a ton of pus and blood and forms a giant, painful boil.
It's been two years and this crap is still happening."
"My oldest sister was murdered. But wait, it gets worse.
Her husband was (unbeknownst to us) a high functioning lush. He quickly became an “unable to function at all” drinker.
But wait, it gets worse. They had 5 children. The oldest called me from the dentists office, where my brother-in-law was being arrested for driving the kids there while wasted.
But wait, it gets worse. I can’t take custody of the children because I live out of state. Even if I pack up my family and move, we would have to be residents for 6 months before we could be vetted as foster parents. So the children go into foster care.
But wait, it gets worse. There was not a foster family available that willing to take 5 children together. They went to 3 separate families.
These kids lost their mother permanently, and their father and siblings temporarily."
"Two of my friends had a falling out. I was dying to know what was going on between them, because they lived together and I felt like I was watching mommy and daddy get divorced. One friend was never around and the other told me he honestly didn't know what going on.
After a couple months, I finally got some one-on-one time with the friend who wasn't around, and he explained everything to me in detail. Basically he asked if he could date the other friend's cousin, who emphatically said NO. But, since the other friend had dated his cousin without asking, he violated bro-code and started seeing her anyway.
In dating this girl, he came to find out that she and the other friend were more than just cousins... They had carried on a physical relationship for years. Basically they got it on like bunnies whenever the family wasn't looking.
But hold on! It gets worse... He was told this went on for 10 years. The girl was 22. Her cousin was 24. They had been hooking up since middle school.
But hold on! It gets worse... The girl's father, and her cousin's father, are identical twins. Let that sink in for a second. Genetically, they are half-siblings.
At that point in the story, I downed my cold one and apologized for even asking about what was going on. I wish I never knew. As a follow up, they no longer live together or speak to each other. I'm still really close with the incest-free friend. I see the other friend in passing and we're still friends, but its hard to look him in the eye."
"My mom planned a 3 generation trip of a lifetime with my grandpa, my brother, and me. We we're going to stay in Vegas for one day, go down to a gold mine of one of her friends, visit the Grand canyon, and then fly back from Phoenix, while making multiple stop on route 66.
We were going to leave after my high school graduation.
On the day of my graduation, my grandpa hits his head because the Comfort Inn he is staying in installed new slippery tubs (he wasn't the first person injured). He did a concussion test on himself and since he didn't have a bump on his head, he went to my graduation and went on the trip with us.
We spend a night in Vegas checking out the casinos, but my brother and I can't gamble or drink so there wasn't a lot we could do. We go to bed and wake up the next morning and went to check out, but our grandpa wasn't down yet. He doesn't answer his phone and we ask the hotel manager to let us into his room. We find him unconscious and unresponsive.
They take him to a hospital and we find out he has a brain clot. They aren't able to treat it, so we have to take him off life support and he died 7 hours later.
Once we got home we tried to get a death certificate, but we're told that it could take between 4-6 weeks for them to give it to us. 6 weeks later we received a death certificate with a mistake because the person who filled it out googled h my grandpa's address instead of using the one we gave them. A couple of days ago (5 weeks later), we have received the death certificate. In a week my mom and brother are going down to Florida to get his stuff, but I can't go with them because of college. We still don't even know where his will is and I bet more stuff is going to hit the fan.
In short: Comfort Inn kills my grandpa immediately after my graduation, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas including death certificates, and I won't be able to go down to my grandpa's house for the last time."
"My twin and I were born, mother from poor Native American reservation doesn’t want us and does not want us to grow up there so she leaves us on some door step to a stranger's home. Police are called and we are put into foster care shortly after...but it gets worse.
Adopted parents abuse us for years. Adopted extended family says we're not really family don't really want anything to do with us. It gets worse.
I contemplate suicide at 7, tell friend to bring knife to school so I can kill myself in bathroom. Friend tells his mom who tells my mom, who hands me a knife and beats me for trying to take it. Then continues to ask me if I want to die and beats me until I say I don't. It gets worse...
11 years old twin and I say we don't want to live with them after years of them threatening to call CPS to take us away, they beat us both until we say we want to stay... it gets worse
16 years old, attempt suicide first time by swallowing bottle of pills, doesn't work. Gets worse...
17 years old, attempt suicide by swallowing a lot of pills, found, stomach pumped, survived. Gets worse..
18 years old, attempt suicide by slashing my arm with box cutter. Pass out from bloodloss, wake up with EMTs over me and tourniquet on arm. Survive, sent to mental hospital where I stay for 3 months. It gets worse...
19 find apartment, work 2 jobs barely able to make ends meet. Often pay rent and starve for two weeks.
24 years old... twin offers place to stay, don't want to but am convinced that I can go to school and save money and eat. 3 months later find out sister can't afford house even with my rent and I go homeless. It gets worse...
Couch surf with few friends when I can, sleep under pine tree other times, use illicit substances to self medicate. Work odd jobs through temp agency. Little sister finds out about homelessness we become roommates. Gets worse...
25 years old - little sister says she can't pay her half of rent, doesn't like that I make more money on unemployment than she does at her job. She can pay rent, just choose not to and promises to pay me back - never pays me back. I am considered independent now, get loan go to school. Gets worse...
26 give twin stuff I had in storage, says she will store for free saving me money and stuff will be safe. Agree, year later I want something in storage, all my stuff is gone. Ask twin about it, says she doesn't know anything about it. Found out later she pawned all my stuff.
Twin and I find our birth mom, find out she's cray-cray, suffers from schizophrenia and in jail for stabbing roommate. Says she doesn't know who father is, she was assaulted but she loves us now and calls us flesh over her flesh and wants to see us...
I decline, figured that she was manipulating us and that she's off her rocker. No idea who father is or if anything she said is true.
But it gets better...
28 work and go to school, graduate with a 3.2 GPA meet future wife, cut out bad influences and keep good influences. Have good job now, wife, 2 kids. Still struggle with past, biggest fear is being abusive to own children."
"Had debilitating arm pain for a few weeks and spent a lot of money and time going to the doctor, trying to get it figured out while navigating the American healthcare system. But wait, it gets worse.
My doctor decides that I am depressed and this is causing my pain. He prescribes anti-depressants which make me incredibly sick and cause loss of appetite. But wait, it gets worse.
I start having chest pain and difficulty sleeping. It gets so bad I go to urgent care and they tack on a script for for some painkillers. I start popping these as often as I can to try and control the pain I am in/pass out. But wait, it gets worse.
The chest pain starts to get so bad and is accompanied by difficulty breathing so I go to the ER. After an emergency CT scan it turns out I have a pulmonary embolism. But wait, it gets worse.
I am taken off anti-depressants and my birth control pill and put on a loading dose of blood thinners. This causes me to have my period. But wait, it gets worse.
I start bleeding excessively. Not to be too graphic, but clots the size of baseballs every 10-20 minutes by day 2. But wait, it gets worse.
I return to the hospital and am told I am just having a bad period, an the reason I passed out walking to the bathroom was not from my blood loss, but from influenza, which I tested positive for. I go home and lie on the couch, bleeding through my clothing and delirious with fever. But wait, it gets worse.
My flu symptoms improve and I am cleared to fly to go to Canada to see my parents for Christmas despite still having heavy bleeding. My husband has to help me onto the plane because I am so weak. I am wearing adult diapers because it's the only thing that controls the bleeding. But wait, it gets worse.
I make it home to my parents' and spent 2 days in bed. On Christmas Eve I check my heart rate monitor and see that my resting heart beat is 140 BPM. I am incredibly dizzy and pale. At first I attribute this to flu. But wait, it gets worse.
I convince my Dad and my husband to bring me to the hospital. As it turns out my hemoglobin is so low from all the bleeding that at this point I am in danger of having a heart attack. For Christmas I get two emergency units of blood and a ton of morphine. But wait, it gets worse.
The morphine and blood loss combo causes the worst migraine I've ever had in my life. I start screaming and puking. I need an emergency CT scan on my head, my second in just over a week. But wait, it gets worse.
Luckily my head CT is clear but I continue to have debilitating migraines. I spend the next several months recovering and finally am well enough to start functioning like a normal human again. Then I get a bill from the hospital explaining that my insurance company says that they will not cover my initial CT scan (the one I had that diagnosed my PE originally) because I didn't pre-approve it. Still currently fighting this with both insurance and the hospital."
"My ex wife wanted to be a stay at home wife, even after I offered to pay for school or help her start a leather working business.
My best friend/Co worker gets promoted over me at work due to what akins to a coin flip.
Friend has day off work one night, and comes in anyways. Turns out his wife caught him and my ex wife sending some dirty messages to each other.
Come to find out that they had a physical relationship as well, like 3 nights prior. While I was a sleep in the other room.
Fast forward through some marriage counseling and 2 years later.
New state, New opportunity, she doubles down on being a housewife.
I pay for her to fly out to go to a convention with her friends while I'm away in the desert for a work thing. Literally a month in one of the hottest spots on earth.
Come home and she basically holed herself in the house, choosing to live online and neglect reality.
After some arguments, find out she and on of the friends she flew out to go see were having an online relationship.
She told me she wished I never came home.
Work got worse, I believed about the marriage failing was my fault.
Suicide attempt last year. It failed. (basically poisoned myself.) was sick for 2 days and thought my insides were going to eat themselves out, 0/10 do not recommend.
Finally wake up and file for divorce.
She publicly accuses me of mental and emotional abuse.
2017 wasn't a good year for me."
"I’m a hostess at a really fancy restaurant. There’s this one old couple who are kind of regulars. Super stinking rich. We’ll call them Mr. and Mrs. Green. Mrs Green has I assume some kind of ALS because her hand is all shriveled and she can’t use it. Mr. Green is aware of his wife’s situation and does absolutely nothing to assist her. Makes her open doors, doesn’t pull out her chair for her, doesn’t cut her food, etc. it’s almost as if she’s one handed because tasks are difficult for her.
One night they come in to eat. Usually Mr. Green is very rude and demands a table that’s already been reserved and makes a huge hassle, but tonight, he was behaved. I seat them at their table, pull out the chair for Mrs. Green, and a huge smile appears on her face. She gives me the biggest THANK YOU ever. It’s as if that’s the nicest thing that’s ever been done for her. Her husband apparently doesn’t do it.
Work is busy as usual, there’s me and another hostess (let’s call her Lucy). Lucy is seating a party and I’m up at the front answering phone calls. All of sudden, Mrs. Green comes up WADDLING to me. She grabs my arm as if her life was in danger. She says to me, “HELP ME!”
“Is everything alright ma’am?”
“I JUST POOPED MY PANTS!”
I honestly didn’t know what to do. What did she want from me?
“Okay, the restrooms are right over here.”
“I NEED YOU TO HELP ME IN THERE”
“Oh...um” I was hoping she was pulling a prank on me. I was speechless. After what seemed like forever, I said “Okay I’ll meet you in there after I seat this party.” She said ok and went to the bathroom. I grabbed Lucy and told her what happened. She had no idea what to do either. We thought about getting her husband but we knew he was useless. Lucy kept doing her job while I checked on Mrs. Green.
I went to the bathroom and there is Mrs. Green in an open stall on the toilet. I looked away and asked,
“Uhh...is there anything I can do for you?”
“Can you get me a plastic bag for my underwear?”
Phew! I thought she was gonna ask me to wipe her or something. I went and got her a plastic bag. After I handed it to her I asked,
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“YES WATCH THE DOOR CUZ I’M GONNA COME OUT AND WASH MYSELF IN THE SINK”
“It’s ok ma’am I can just hand you wet paper towels.”
“NO I NEED THE SINK!”
Jesus, Joseph and Mary. I go out and watch the door, thankfully, nobody came by. I went back in to the bathroom and ask,
“Are you gonna be ok?”
“NO I NEED HELP PULLING UP MY PANTS!”
F&@*! I literally held my breath and braced for the worst. Everything seemed going fine until the very last second where I accidentally touched her butt.
I scalded my hand like there was no tomorrow. I helped her back to her table and pulled out her seat again. She leans over to her husband and says “Honey, we have to go. I just pooped my pants.”
You know what Mr. Green said?
“We’re not leaving! This is a nice restaurant and I want to finish my dinner!”
My heart sank. I wanted to scream. There was nothing else I could do though. I go back to my hostessing duties and tell Lucy everything. After a little while later, the Greens are leaving. Mrs. Green is just mere steps from the door when she stops and says,
Not again. SHE POOPED HER PANTS AGAIN! This time both me and Lucy help her to the bathroom. I am not doing this again! (Literally)
This time Lucy helped her in the stall. If you recall, Mrs. Green already soiled her underpants so she was wearing just regular pants now and now EVERYTHING is ruined. There was literally nothing we could do. When Mrs. Green comes out of the stall, tears are streaming down her face from embarrassment. I felt awful.
We walk her out to the front of the restaurant where Mr. Green is waiting for her, not happy. He groans and opens the door so fast that he almost hits Mrs. Green. We decided to walk her to her car.
That was the worst work experience of my life.
WAIT IT GETS WORSE
The Greens still come back every now and then. Mrs. Green doesn’t even remember me. She came up to me another day and said “I’m sorry dear but I need some help in the restroom.”
Yes. This is my life.
I told management of this problem and they didn’t seem to care."
"I get pulled over for expired registration. Since I'm a first-time offender, they give me a fixit ticket.
A mile down the road I get pulled over for expired registration again. Cop laughs, has me wait a bit, then sends me off.
I fix my registration asap and bring in proof to the court house. Court house won't accept it because the ticket isn't in their computer yet.
Months go by, I forget about the ticket. Eventually I get a fine; now I have a late fee. My mistake, that sucks, whatever.
Take PTO to go to the court house to get all of this taken care of.
Go out to my car in the morning and find it's been broken into. Everything has been cleared out - including the original ticket, which I need to show it was a fixit ticket. Without it, I now have to pay the fine for an expired registration. Somebody STOLE MY TICKET for whatever godforsaken reason. Other things stolen: novelty sunglasses, a euphonium, a bag of trail mix, a gallon of water, my CD collection from high school, various other stuff I've probably forgotten, all of which wasn't really worth much with the exception of the euphonium.
Go to court house, wait an hour, explain situation to lady. Lady says I can go to DMV and get a reprint of the ticket so I don't have to pay for the fixit ticket, which saves me $300. Why not?
Drive to DMV, wait an hour. Lady at DMV tells me they have no record of this ticket, and that the court house should have the record.
Drive back to court house, wait an hour, talk to same lady. She says she can't, because it's just a digital record. At this point, I'm beyond angry, so I just pay the thing off. $600 down the drain - $300 for registration, $300 for late fee. Forget it.
Go home, find out the robbers took the glass breakers out of the side compartments of my car. Uh oh. Over the following week there's a rash of car break-ins, all of them using a glass breaker. Luckily my car was not broken into a second time."
"I dated a crazy girl once. It got a lot worse (diagnosed as full-blown paranoid schizophrenia) when she got pregnant. She ran away, accusing me of conspiring with Google and Iran to turn the kid into a demon and enslave humanity. Hired investigators to track down kid since she is in no way fit to be a parent. Turns out I didn't know her real name and she has a bit of a track record back home in the midwest. Found out her real name from a warrant for parole violation. Wait for it...
Wait for it...
Turns out she was pre-op FtM trans when she got busted for GTA and sentenced to two years. Since being a person with a warm spot between my legs locked up in a men's prison is not most people's idea of a good time she de-transitioned and went to women's prison. She violated parole pretty much as soon as she got out, running to Virginia where she met me.
So I thought I knocked up a mentally ill but basically decent person and it turns out she's a felon on the run and has a history of substance abuse. Also she might never have been pregnant but I need to know for sure before I stop looking.
On the plus side I started cleaning up her stuff from my apartment and have found a bunch of things she bought with my credit cards. So far I have a desktop computer, printer, laptop, electric fireplace, stand mixer, and a time lock safe that has something inside it but I can't yet get in. Also a vibrating adult toy. My buddy with the wire EDM machine is going to break into it this weekend. The safe, not the adult toy."
"Driving six hours to my cousin's wedding with my partner. Leave early, having a great trip, arrival time is about three hours before the wedding starts so we have time to check in to the hotel and change.
Get a call from my dad - his car broke down (he's terrible about maintenance) and he's half an hour behind us; can we please come rescue him? We double-back, and because he refuses to give us any cross-streets (his description was "by the trees in the pullout by an overpass"), it takes us nearly an hour to find him. We get his car to a safe location, back on the road, get to the hotel, throw on nice clothes. Dad says it'll take 15 minutes to get to the venue, so he takes an extra ten minutes getting ready. It's actually 15 miles/30 minutes; we get to the wedding five minutes late. We have to sneak in in front of everyone and I have to stand in four-inch heels on grass for half an hour because there aren't chairs outside the front row. Okay, fine, we made it. That's the important part.
But wait, it gets worse.
In the middle of the appetizers, the DJ pages "the person driving [my distinctive car]". Rear tire is flat. Okay, cool, better than finding out late at night. We find a small nail in it, swap it out for the donut, go back to the party. Plan is to get the tire patched in the morning before driving back to deal with Dad's car.
But wait, it gets worse.
Get up after four hours of sleep, head to Walmart to get the tire patched because they're the only place nearby open on a Sunday. Don't get hotel free breakfast because they won't let you remove food from the serving area. Go in to Walmart Auto fifteen minutes after they open...hour and a half wait already. Okay, cool. We wander the store and play on the wifi. Finally get called in to deal with the fix.
But wait...it gets worse.
Tire wasn't flat because of a nail. Tire had two major slashes, probably from hitting a piece of glass. $100 later, I now own a new tire. It's now 9:30am, so no hotel breakfast. I'm exhausted and hangry, and we go grab something resembling breakfast and the largest coffee money can buy. We go get Dad, get his car to the only shop open on a Sunday, they say it will take at least a day to fix. We get him a hotel and drive the rest of the four hours home so my partner can work the next day.
It was a lovely wedding though."
"Last November, I started therapy with a new therapist. I was in an emotionally abusive relationship with this guy who WOULD NOT tell the truth. I had been trying to get him to renew his license for the past two months, so he could access his bank account so he could pay me rent money. HE wouldn't do it. So i am venting about this in my first therapy session. And my therapist is like "does he have warrants out for his arrest?" And I said I hadn't looked, because I was afraid of the answer. So she grabs her laptop, does a quick warrant search.
"What's his name?""[Redacted]""How old is he?""Thirty.""....what color is his hair?""red."
She turned the computer around. Turns out he had two warrants for his arrest for theft from before we started dating in 2014.
So, I broke up with him that weekend and found out a LOT of information. Like he had a debilitating opiate habit. And he wasn't working at all, he would just leave every day until I left for work. Everything he had ever told me was a lie.
BUT WAIT IT GETS WORSE.
The next weekend, I was about to go out with my friends for the first time as a single gal. I am about to catch an uber to the bar when my best friend's mom calls me. I pick up because she has never called me. She was really concerned about her daughter, because she thought she had mixed her pain meds with heavy drinking and was slurring her words.
I uber over to my friend's place and I find her gray on her bed unconscious. I immediately call 911 while screaming at her to wake up. She is barely responsive. The EMTs arrive, I ride in the ambulance with them and have to hear them give her Narcan, which doesn't work.
My friend somehow survived, despite being dangerously underweight and overdosing on 45 mg of oxycotin, 6 mg of klonopin, and five heavy drinks. The EMTs said it was good that I got there when I did.
My friend had left a note for her married boyfriend who had started dating her while holding an unethical amount of power and control over her. I told my therapist this, which led to a light prompting by the former head of his advisory board. My friend found out and proceeded to spend the next 24 hours after I found her almost dead sending me some of the most abusive and terrible texts I've ever received. We are no longer friends.
And that is why you don't mess with opiates kids."
"This was the worst year of mine and my husbands life.
Beginning of February 2012, I had a faint positive pregnancy test, went to the doctor thought great confirmation.
It didn’t turn out that way.
But wait it got worse, he dismissed me saying because I have endometriosis I can’t be pregnant (I had been pregnant twice before both losses) and that I was crazy even thinking I was.
It gets worse. Two weeks later I was around 18 weeks by my dating-I miscarried a little boy in my bathroom. I knew I was pregnant and nobody except my husband believed me.
It gets worse.
2 weeks later we lost my father in law from a massive heart attack so on top of grieving for the baby, I was grieving for my father in law.
It gets worse.
A month later my husbands grandma my grandma in law dies of pneumonia and a broken heart. We couldn’t make it to the funeral no money we were 700 miles away.
It gets worse.
Less than 2 months later my husband lost his job which meant we lost our house. We had a couple weeks to find accommodation that would take a hyper puppy our dog we had adopted.
It gets worse.
The only place we could find was a cockroach infested trailer, we didn’t know it had roaches until move in night. My husband had gotten up to get a drink of water a 1,000 roaches come flying out of the sink. We cleaned got an exterminator nothing worked.
It gets worse
We had horrible neighbors, got flooded in during a tropical storm and my husband ended up working 100 hour work weeks.
It gets sort of better
March 2013, we decided to move far far away and start over. While getting ready to leave we had to throw out all our kitchen appliances, leave furniture and throw out a computer printer all so we could leave roach free. It didn’t work. Took another year to fully exterminate them.
It finally got better
My husband got an amazing job, we’ve been here 5 1/2 years, we have a daughter the dog is now 7, our home is great the landlord rocks and life is great."
"Many years ago, I started dating my current wife. We lived two hours apart and it was difficult to start with. We'd had one date and I'd spent one weekend at her house. She came to spend a weekend at mine. On Fridays I would play Magic with friends and get little buzzed. She walked into this chaos... And, she didn't play magic.
Apparently I was drinking too much and way too fast. I stumbled upstairs and puked all over the bathroom. She cleaned up and helped me into bed and told everyone I was done for the night. She then proceeded to climb in and sleep next to me. But, wait...
So, at the time I was still living with my ex. We had separate bedrooms and were completely platonic. She was still there though. She had went up to the local bar with a couple friends. At some point in the night my phone started blowing up with messages from her. Finally, future wife, completely sober, couldn't sleep and answered the phone. Ex had been kicked out of the bar and needed immediate pickup. Apparently ex was slamming drinks herself and just projectile vomited all over the bar.
Future wife grabbed my car and headed to the bar in this unfamiliar town. She made the pick-up for her ex and two friends. She continued forth on the half-mile drive back to my house. And... then she proceeded to turn left on a no left turn intersection. Unfortunately a cop was near and decided to pull her over. Typical ma'am do you know... blah blah and ex pulls open the door and proceeds to puke everywhere. Officer is all like looks like you've got your hands full and sends her on her way. Cool....
They make it to my house. I am still obliviously passed out. Ex stumbles out of the car, falls down in the yard. Maybe pukes a bit more. Totally wets herself. Future wife helps her inside, cleans her up, helps her change clothes and gets her into bed. She then climbs back into bed with me.
About a year later we got married. I don't know what she was thinking."