We all have secrets; it's human nature, but some secrets are much darker than others.
Redditors recently shared the things that they have never told anyone else and these were the blackest moments found in their all too human hearts.
(Content edited for clarity.)
Not Every Family Is A Happy Family
“My dad used to go to a bar near the house every night about an hour after he put us to bed. It wasn’t until I was around 12 years old that I realized where he was going. And I was fine with it. We lived in a good neighborhood, he would lock the doors, and I knew where his magnum was, just in case. Not that at the age of 12 I would have had the courage that it would take to actually pull the trigger on someone.
One night, my dad was gone a while and came home sloshed, parked sideways in the driveway, stumbled in, and noisily went to his room.
I was awake for all of this because I had a lot of stress with puberty and girls, so I didn’t regularly sleep well. I heard my dad take a leak, stumble around, and then leave his room. Then I heard my sister’s door open. I thought it was her seeing what all the noise was. But sadly no, it was my dad.
He went into my sister’s room at 2 a.m. and attempted to violate her. This was the first and only time this happened, my father had never been violent or inappropriate towards us in any way. But the moment I heard my sister wake up and ask him what he was doing, I was up, put pants on, and was standing in the doorway. I became so filled with rage that someone who I was supposed to love and look up to could ever do something like this, that I pushed my dad up against the wall and started shouting at him. He threw me aside. Then I picked up a lamp from my sister’s nightstand and beat my dad’s head, face, and stomach with it. He has a big scar on the top of his head, a semi-circle about as big around as a pop can. The next morning I told him he had gotten into a bar fight. Not sure he believed it, but we never talked about it again.”
Did His Revenge Plot Go Too Far?
“A friend of mine I used to hang out with a lot, Chase, told me a bad secret during our sophomore year of high school. We were good friends and smoked a lot together, but we came from a bad neighborhood.
Anyways one day at school, I watch his back when he sells a gram of weed to this guy Terrance (bully senior). As we’re walking away, Chase just keeps going on and on about how much of a prick that guy was. After school, we both put our money together from our sells to buy another ounce. As we’re smoking, he tells me he needs to tell me something. He says that Terrance guy tried violation his sister at a park, but stopped after she started screaming (who at the time was in 8th grade). Chase tells me how Terrance wanted to buy some weed after school but didn’t have enough for a gram (this was after his sister told him what happened). So he said he’d give it to him for free if he stole a few cans of Four Lokos. After, Chase said he acted like he was really happy about it and smoked him out for free and then gave him a blunt to take home.
He told me that when he rolled it earlier, he laced it with smack for Terrance and has been lacing all the weed he sold him and basically turned Terrance to a junkie. Told me he’s been doing it every day for weeks and been charging him double since Terrance doesn’t know anyone else to buy off of. Chase has even been to his house and got to take some of his shoes, TV, Xbox, iPod, basically everything a teen would want in exchange for more.
I did my fair share of messed up stuff throughout high school but I felt really weird about that. I didn’t say anything because I was a gang member at the time so I didn’t feel like I had a right to judge, so I never told anyone. We grew apart after that. I moved away from my hometown a year later but I hear that Terrance has been in and out of rehab/jail and struggling a lot. Pretty much homeless when he’s out.”
It Took Years For His Rage To Finally Come To Fruition
“I was violated by my parent’s neighbors. A father and son. The son was in his teens, I was 8. They used to put me in this walk-in closet and have ‘Show Time.’ I never realized what was happening until several years after we had moved from my grandmother’s house in Phoenix to Houston. Fast forward 20 years go by and I have a daughter of my own. She’s 4 and we decided to visit Grandma in good ol’ valley of the sun. We get there and one day, my daughter’s outside with her older cousins playing. I step outside to check on her and I’m greeted with that same neighbor’s son holding my daughter giving her raspberries while his dad is playing with the others cousins.
Something clicked. I walked outside, grabbed my daughter and corralled the kids and made my presence known. That tipping point sent me into an emotional spiral of brewing thoughts. I’m white collar, I make my money off of thinking. What I did next I’d never say to a real-life human nor will I ever give the details of how I did it, but several months after our visit with Grandma, my wife thought I had another work training when in fact I came back to Phoenix.
I burned their home to the ground. Everything was lost except for the master bedroom and walk-in closet. They both survived, unfortunately.
I swear to God I’ve hoped I’ve done enough good in my life to earn at least one wish. That would be to meet those low life maggot creepers in Hell and be their eternal tormentor.”
When He Couldn’t Deal With His Abusive Mother Any Longer
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“When I was 16 years old, I tried to commit suicide. I was young and stupid, and sad because my mom was yelling at me (I had a very domineering, abusive mother), and decided that I would go get my dad’s weapon and end my life. I rooted around in my parents’ closet until I found the weapon, then loaded it with the only ammo I could find, a box of 12 ga. Winchester deer slugs.
I went and made myself a nice meal of bacon and eggs, then went to the bathroom (when my grandpa died, he had pooped himself, I didn’t want that to happen to me). I stripped down to my underwear, and loaded one of the fat green slugs in the tube; I could feel the little bumps and ridges on the plastic coating of the shell. I racked the slide, chambered the round, and leaned back (I had chosen the lazy-boy to kill myself so I wouldn’t have to pull the trigger with my toe). I settled down, snuggled the barrel under my chin, and pulled the trigger. That click was the loudest noise I will ever hear.
Unbeknownst to me, I had made the (not-so-mortal) error of using twenty-year-old shells that had been sitting next to a shower for fifteen or so years. I decided that God probably didn’t want me dead quite yet, and went on to live a successful life with a loving wife, three kids of my own, and four grandchildren (two more on the way). Truth be told, I’m happy that I couldn’t even kill myself.”
His Life Growing Up Was A True Tragedy
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“When I was around 7-8, my mother used to see a guy who would beat her just about every chance he would get. It wasn’t anything for her to come grab me and my sister in the middle of the night and we’d run away for a few days.
Finally, one day, I had enough of it. It started like it always does and he started laying into her. When he did, I jumped on his back and started hitting him as hard as an 8 yr old could hit a grown man. He threw me off him and onto the kitchen table. I tried him again and this time he threw me into the refrigerator, held me by my throat, and I took my mother’s beating for her. All I remembered was seeing his fist, then waking up and seeing it again.
Something happened and I when I started to come to, I was in the front seat of my mom’s car with my sister in the back and she was driving fast. She lost control of the car and we flipped into the ditch. I pulled myself out but my shoulder and arm hurt so bad I could hardly move it. Still, I managed to pull my sister out and then proceeded to collapse. I woke up in the hospital. Nobody was there. Nobody visited. I was alone.
After about a month stays, I was moved to a place called Helping Hands where I was reunited with my sister. We stayed there for roughly 2 months until one day my mother showed up. She had been in prison. She took us home after a few weeks of supervised visits.
I was forced to grow up fast, never had a childhood. The days I wasn’t watching this boxing match in the kitchen, I had to basically care for me and my sister by doing the cooking and making sure we got what little school we could. My mother made poor choices with relationships and her addictions and as a result, I lost the better part of 10 years of my life.
After that, I finally was able to move in with my dad. I ordered everything I found, wouldn’t wear shoes, didn’t take being scolded well, slept in my closet, and never really slept until I passed out from lack of it. He stuck with me though and got me on a ‘normal’ path, and for that I’m grateful, but I still have problems to this day. A 33-year-old man shouldn’t have to sound out words when he reads.
I’ve only told my wife about this. I’ve worked hard and now have a good career. I have two daughters that I pray will never see half what I do and that is my main drive in life.
Unfortunately for my sister, she didn’t follow me. Even though I begged and pleaded with her, she continued to stay with my mom for another few years. My mother’s influence was too strong on her. She spent her later teenage years dropped out of school and doing illegal substances. Fortunately, she’s never had kids through this experience.
She was recently released from prison for prescription fraud and intent to distribute. The last I heard she overdosed and had to be given two shots of a Narcan to be saved. I tried to get her clean but she stole from me numerous times and got a bunch of credit cards in my name and maxed them out. It was a huge mess. I haven’t seen her in almost a year, and while I wish her well and hope she cleans up, it can’t be me to be the one to do it.”
The Lover Of Your Nightmares
“I met a guy online just after I turned 18. I was extremely naive and far too trusting. He said all the right things and I thought I was in love. We skyped and I trusted him.
I trusted him to the point where if he wanted nude pictures, I’d send them. If he wanted me to strip while Skyping, I would strip. He could be the sweetest, most loving person I’ve ever known if I did everything right. If I did something wrong I was a ‘ho, a worthless ugly human being who would never find happiness with anyone because I was pathetic.’
I didn’t realize at the time, but it was a toxic relationship. I was so dependent on his approval I didn’t notice how it was affecting me. I got sick. I became anorexic because I couldn’t keep food down. I’m naturally skinny and have always been teased about being anorexic but this time it was no joke. I was so scared and didn’t realize he was the reason this was happening until about a month later. So I left him. I said I couldn’t do it anymore, said goodbye and walked away.
A year and a half after this happened, my Facebook started getting a bunch of random messages from guys I’d never seen before. He had uploaded every single photo I’d sent him to multiple adult sites. He had included my personal information in the description boxes. I went to the cops and got told, ‘Well, you shouldn’t have done that,’ and fell into a massive spiral of self-blame and self-hate. He made me feel worthless. The cop who said it was my fault made me feel worthless. The strangers I’d never met who were commenting on my body made me feel worthless. I stopped attending my college classes, I failed half my papers and I never told a soul why I went from A’s to C’s.
When I told my boyfriend what happened, he broke down. To see him crying broke my heart more and made me sadder/angrier than the photos themselves being uploaded.
I’m not the same person I was. I’m meaner, I’m more emotionless and I can’t seem to change it. I take anti-nausea pills two and a half years later because some days I still can’t take it. I have a smaller appetite and food was one of my biggest loves. I can’t stand strangers looking at me in the street because I immediately assume they’ve seen me naked. I hate my body because it’s a constant reminder of my mistakes.
Two and a half years later and I’m still a complete mess and I hate him deeply for that. I hate him with a passion I never knew I had. When I need motivation, I use that hatred. I use it to make me do better in school (now studying law). I use it to get out of bed every day and let him know he didn’t win. I didn’t kill myself, I survived and I’m getting better every day. I won.”
Caught In The Act
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“My stepdad has been having an affair with the 19-year-old boy next door.
I was sent home early from work one day for being sick and went straight home to get back into bed. I had assumed everyone would be at work or something, but when I got home, my stepdad’s car was in the driveway.
I went into the house and went to the kitchen to see my stepdad nude and getting it on with the kid next door over the kitchen table. He was moaning pretty loudly, so I’m guessing they didn’t even hear me coming in. The neighbor’s kid saw me standing there and just screamed, ‘Oh my god!’
My stepdad turned to me, grabbed his clothes said ‘We need to talk about this later,’ and went into another room. They both got dressed and left, and I went to bed never wanting to eat off that kitchen table again.”
His Friend Took Justice Into His Own Hands
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“Some time ago one of my best friends found out that his mother was violated by a guy he knew, even though it happened a long time ago.
My friend told me he’s gonna kill the guy.
Few months after that, I found out the guy was declared missing and they never found him.
I’m pretty sure my friend killed him.”
The Wrong Thoughts Can Haunt You
“When I was 15, I was lying in bed one morning, and I heard my dad coming up the stairs. Being a typical teenager a conversation with my dad first thing in the morning was not something I wanted to do, so I pretended to be asleep. I heard my dad come into my room, and he stood at the end of my bed in silence. This went on for a long time, and after about five minutes, he left and I thought, ‘Thank goodness he’s gone, what was he doing staring at me so long?’
My dad walked downstairs, out of the house, and drove off. They found his body three days later. Those five minutes in my bedroom was him taking a last look at his son before he killed himself, and all I could do was lie there thinking, ‘Go away, you weirdo.’
He had been off work with a bad back, my parents were struggling to keep up with the bills and he was about to have his wages halved because he had been off work for so long. It was probably this that sent him over the edge. When he died, his employer paid off our mortgage and my mum got some life insurance money giving us the financial security he was struggling to provide. I like to think that he gave his life to give us this. I just wish he knew we’d rather live in a tent with him by our side than in a house without him there.”
Unhappy Coincidence Leads To A Life Of Guilt
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“Last year, my 3-year-old cousin died after a long battle with brain cancer. About five months earlier, he was doing terrific. He was beginning to make a great recovery after a surgery that supposedly got rid of the tumor causing the cancer. He did a lot of moving around and stayed in St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital. Like I said, he was doing great, and all he wanted to do was play. And myself, being a sulky little teenager, wanted nothing of it.
One day, he had an MRI to see if he needed more treatment. I remember being at school and thinking, ‘Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they found something. He’d have to move back to Memphis, and I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore.’
It turned out, they did find something, but the something they found was too much to treat. He wasn’t going to make it beyond 2012. I was devastated and realized what I had thought earlier in the day. I know I wasn’t the reason that his cancer came back, but it still makes me want to throw up whenever I think about it.”
The Darkest Of Confessions
“I am allowing people to think that I like women. This is not the truth. Some people know that it is not the truth. I tell those people that I am just not interested. Then they understand why they never see me with a woman.
This is not the truth either. I’m attracted to little children, but I would never hurt a child. I am so afraid of doing those things that I refuse to act physically. It is dangerous to ask for treatment for this.
I wish it was not a sin to kill myself because I do not want this life.”
This Poor Girl Has Been Suffering Her Whole Life
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“In school, there was this girl who was bullied constantly and had no friends. She was a bit of weirdo (she had no social skills) and her mother was even more strange. I was one of the only kids who didn’t bully her and the only one to actually talk to her (but I was no hero – I was too scared of the other kids to actually be friends with her).
Anyway, one day, when we were about 11 or 12 years old, she sat alone in a classroom, crying after being bullied. I felt bad for her, so I walked in and tried to comfort her. We started talking, and she told me that her father violated her when she was a toddler and continued doing so until her parents divorced when she was 10. I never told a soul. I wish I had told someone when she told me, or at least encouraged her to tell someone.”
A Mother’s Guilt
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“When I was a kid, I had asthma pretty bad, so, I’d be up all night coughing constantly.
My mom and I lived with her parents. We shared a room, so I slept in her bed often when I was a toddler.
Mom would come home from work and lay down for bed, but I’d keep her awake with my coughing. Sometimes at night, I’d be coughing and she would hug me so tight that I couldn’t breathe. It would really distress me that I couldn’t breathe but I knew mom loved me so much and I didn’t want to tell her she was literally squeezing me to death because I was afraid of hurting her feelings, so I’d just tell her that I loved her so much, and she would cry pretty hard after that.
Took me years after having my own kid and treating him gently to figure out that it’s actually pretty difficult to squeeze a kid so hard that they couldn’t breathe.
Mom is bipolar and has had other incidents of hurting people and abandoning those in her care that need medication and can’t take care of themselves.
So…I finally put it together and figured out mom would be so agitated with my asthma that she would try to stop me from coughing by squeezing me almost to death. And then she would cry out of guilt when I told her I loved her.”
She Was A Baby Herself
“When I was in fifth and sixth grade, I was best friends with a girl whose high school-aged brother was in a local gang. One night, her brother threw a party, and one of his friends ended up getting it on with my friend.
I wasn’t there, but she told me all about it the next day. He came into her room, and he was wasted and they did the deed. Weeks later, my friend and I were at her house and she admitted to me that she thought she was pregnant.
I didn’t know what to tell her, being so young, I didn’t even know where to begin. A week or two more passed, and she called me crying saying that she needed me to come over and help her. My mom dropped me off and I headed up to her room only to find her curled up in the fetal position in her bed, crying. After she calmed down, she told me that she forced herself to have a miscarriage by punching herself in the stomach repeatedly. She had the fetus in a small dixie cup.
My stomach was churning at this point. She said she wanted help burying it in the backyard. We headed outside, dug a hole by the fence and buried the baby. She swore me to secrecy after that.”
“After I Saw Her Lifeless, I…”
“When I was about five years old, my sister (2 years old) and I were in the backyard in a kiddie pool. When my mom went inside, I attempted to drown my sister. After I saw her lifeless, I realized that it was a big mistake, pulled her out of the pool and called for my mom. Luckily she knew CPR and she was life flighted to the hospital.
My mom thanked me for saving her and pulling her out of the pool. Next week was my birthday, so the police, firefighters, paramedics came to my house to give me gifts and celebrate my birthday.
To this day 20 years later, I still think about it. I remember the day so vividly, not a soul knows the real truth.”