A Blessing In Disguise
“I know a guy who was going to break up with his girlfriend one night after a date. He was dropping her off at home and they walked in to find her dad dead on the floor. He didn’t break it off. Thirty-five years later, they are still married.
That’s the story of how I almost never existed.”
Late Night Confessions
“A very well-known and well-liked guy pulled into my yard at 4 a.m. Then, he backed his truck up behind some trees so it could not be seen from the road.
‘You have to help me,’ he said, after we asked what was going on. ‘I killed a guy and the cops are looking for me.’
Apparently, he was in a bathroom at a truck stop and a really big guy kicked in the stall door and said, ‘You are gonna suck me off.’ My friend hit him in the face with the ceramic toilet tank lid. Blood went everywhere. Assuming he had killed him, he drove off.
We talked him into turning himself in. When the cops arrived, they said that the guy had assaulted several people in this fashion, until my friend knocked him out, but didn’t kill him. Now, they finally caught the guy. He swore me to secrecy since he wants to run for office.”
Cat’s In The Cradle
“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 could be arsed with so I pretended to be asleep.
I heard my dad come in my room and he stood at the end of my bed in silence. I waited. He continued to stand at the end of my bed in silence. This went on for an oddly long time. After five or six minutes, he left.
Thank God he’s gone, I thought. What’s he doing staring at me? Weirdo.
My dad walked downstairs out of the house and drove off. They found his body three days later. Those five or six 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, Back off, weirdo.
He left no note so we can never be sure why he did it, but 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.”
Bad Bar Fight
“My dad used to go to a bar near our house every night about an hour after he put us to bed. It was not until I was around 12 or 13 when I realized where he was going. I was fine with it. We lived in a good neighborhood, he would lock the doors, and I knew where his .44 was, just in case. Not that at the age of 12 I would have had half the balls it would take to actually pull the trigger on someone.
However, one night, my dad was gone a while and came home COMPLETELY sloshed and parked sideways in the driveway. He stumbled in and noisily went to his room, which was across from mine. I was awake for all of this because I had a lot of stress with puberty and girls so I did not sleep too well regularly. I heard my dad take a leak, stumble around, and then leave his room. Then, I heard my sister’s door open. She was 13 or 14 at the time. 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 am and attempted to assault her.
This was the first and only time this had happened. My father had never been violent or inappropriate toward 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 stood 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. I, a kid who was pretty well sized for my age, pushed my dad up against the wall and started shouting at him. He clumsily 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 pretty big scar on the top of his head – a semi-circle about as big around as a soda can. To this day, he thinks he got in a bar fight and got kicked out of his favorite pub. I told him that the next day.”
“He Destroyed Me”
“I met a guy online just after I had 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 completely. I trusted him to the point at which if he wanted nudes, I would send nudes. If he wanted a strip while Skyping, I would strip. He could be the sweetest, most loving person I had ever known if I did everything right. If I did something wrong, I was a ‘a worthless, ugly human being who would never find happiness with anyone because I was pathetic.’
I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was a toxic relationship. I was so dependent on his approval that 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. Best. Decision. Ever. My parents didn’t find out about this until about six months later when I broke down crying because he was messaging me on Facebook calling we a worthless floozy, among other things.
A year and a half after this happened, my Facebook started getting a bunch of random messages from guys I had never seen before. He had uploaded every single photo I had sent him to multiple websites. He had included very personal information in the description boxes – my full name, age, which city I lived in etc. I went to the cops and got told ‘Well you shouldn’t have done that.’ I fell into a massive spiral of self-blame and self-hate. The cop, who basically said it was my fault, made me feel worthless. The strangers I had never met who were commenting on my body made me feel worthless. I stopped attending my university classes. I failed half my papers and I never told a soul why I went from A- to C’s.
My parents don’t know he uploaded them all. They just know he has them. I will never tell them this and I’ve mostly managed to get them all off the internet. But I’m not stupid, I know they can easily be uploaded again. My boyfriend knows they’re on there because we were dating when they were uploaded. I broke down and told him why there was such a sudden change in my mood. He cried. I had never felt so much anger for someone before. To see him crying broke my heart more and made me sadder and angrier than the photos themselves being uploaded.
If I ever get to meet that guy in person, I will freaking kill him. I have so much rage, so much self-blame and hate and it stemmed from insecurities (high school bullying) that he preyed on. He played me for the fool I was and destroyed me emotionally, mentally, and physically. I’m not the same person I was. I’m meaner, I’m more emotionless and I can’t seem to change it. I’ve never fully recovered. I take anti-nausea pills two and a half years later because some days I 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 freaking 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 at university – now studying law. I used it just to get out of bed every day and let him know he didn’t win. I didn’t kill myself. I survived my own nightmare and I’m getting better every day.
Fake It Until You Make It
“I’m a total fraud. I did not have a proper education. I did not go to college. After years of working in customer service and two failed start-up businesses, I faked my resume, glorified everything I did and was hired as a manager.
I have a lot to learn, but I do what I can to survive the wolf’s den. So far, everything is going pretty well. Two things I have learned is that ‘confidence’ can make a big difference and that there is a gaping hole in the system of companies doing background investigation.”
The Vaseline Incident
“I was in the 11th grade and was having stomach issues that persisted for weeks. Luckily, I had never poo’d myself at that point, but I was very gassy. I mean it was awful. The worst farts ever. Greasy farts that smelled like rotting trash would blow out of me a couple times per hour, clearing out the entire classroom at one point. No one ever figured out who it was, so I had to take action before I embarrassed myself into a new high school.
I come across the idea after seeing my grandpa use Vaseline to temporarily stop water from leaking in the garage so figured I could try it out and see how it worked on my bum. I grabbed a handful of Vaseline and stuffed my rear with it, creating an airtight seal.
The first day went well. No farts, no smells and by lunch, I had forgotten I even had a glob of Vaseline up my butt. It was a major relief for my classmates and I. I would pull the Vaseline out, take my daily dump and hop in the shower cleaning myself real good. This went on for a while, even after my stomach was feeling better. I didn’t want to risk it and have the nasty farts come back. So, I kept my routine for the time being.
I got home from school one day and, without having a chance to poop and clean myself up, I had to go to one of my mom’s work events. There was food and games so I didn’t care. We were there very late and I remember falling asleep on the way home. I don’t remember anything else until I woke up to my mom yelling that I was going to be late for school.
I hopped out of bed with cramps and my stomach was looking bloated with 24 hours of farts just begging to be released. I went to school, not having any time to take care of myself and feeling awful, but I survived until third period. Toward the end of third period, I decided to skip lunch and try to empty my insides of farts, Vaseline, and poop. Unfortunately, my body could not handle it anymore. My stomach was hurting and I felt a release coming at any moment.
The bell rang for lunch, but I could not make it to the bathroom without crapping myself. I moved very slowly, gathering my things at a snails pace. Once everyone left the room, I shut the door about half way, pulled down my pants, and blew an explosion of greasy Vaseline and crap onto the wall behind the door. The sight was awful. The smell was even worse. I rushed to the bathroom to clean myself up real fast and make it to lunch without anyone noticing.
The next day, they had the room taped off. People were asking questions, but the administration said nothing to the students. I assumed no one suspected me because I was not questioned and no one acted weird around me. The room was reopened the next week with a new paint color and tile replacing the carpet. I never used Vaseline again and I never spoke a word to anyone. Twenty-five years later, I still think about it on occasion. A few years after the incident, I found out I was lactose intolerant. I cut out dairy and I have not had issues since.”
A Boy’s Worst Enemy Is His Mother
“My mother and I have a very damaged relationship. We don’t really talk at all. I know that she doesn’t like me and that she is waiting for me to finish school and move out. I am her youngest child and the only one who seems to be successful in school and building up a life.
My brother is 22 and dropped out of school. He smokes green all the time and pretty much does nothing. My sister is 20 and dropped out of school because of her boyfriend and religion. I am sure that my mother would prefer them to be more successful than I because I know that I am her least favorite son, but that is just the way it is. She does not feel like a person I can rely on. If she was not my mother, we would probably just hate each other. Our personalities and interests do not match.
I have no father either. He died when I was 10. When my mother and I start arguing, sometimes it gets really loud and emotional. If it gets really bad, my mother reminds me of that one day. September 2, 2011, and that she has been scared of me ever since.
Before that day, my mother would physically abuse us when we didn’t obey. It was her way of raising us up. It was annoying. Home felt like a prison with way too many restrictions quite often, especially when I saw how my friends didn’t have to cope with those things. As I’ve started growing bigger, I have had enough.
One day, my 13-year-old self was sitting at home and watching TV. My mother told me to take out the dog. I asked her to wait 15 minutes so that I could finish the match and she slapped me in the face. In our house, this was absolutely normal and expected. Usually, I would apologize and take the dog out immediately, but this day was not usual. On this day, I hit back. Imagine a 13 year old hitting his mother. I had planned it. I wanted to show her that she could not do this to her kids and wanted her to show how I had felt every time she hit me. I did not realize what this would mean to her and to me later. My mom was completely shocked and hit me a lot that evening. Really, a lot. My cheeks glowed and I was too afraid to sleep in my own bed that night. The abuse would continue until I was around 15 when my mother stopped and changed.
I don’t know if it was because she wanted to treat us better, or because she was scared of me. It was probably something in between. But, these days, she shows a very caring side, and tries to treat me good. I appreciate it and love her for all the sacrifices she has made for her kids. But, I cannot have a normal conversation with her. I want to avoid her in every way possible and only seek conversation if necessary. Sometimes, I try to push myself and talk to her but it’s hard. It’s very hard. I don’t know if this relationship is ever going to be fixed but I pray that I will have a better one with my kids.”
She Needed Her Help, And Her Loyalty
“When I was in 5th or 6th 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. One of his friends ended up violating my friend. I wasn’t there, but she told me all about it the next day. He came into her room completely 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 might be pregnant.
I did not really 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. 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 mouth rinsing size dixi cup. It was super small and did not really even look like a full baby yet.
My stomach was churning at this point. She said that 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. Our relationship soon fell apart and we fell out of touch. This was probably, at least, 20 years ago.”
An Uncomfortable Honor
“Two of my good friends, one guy and one girl, were both repeatedly assaulted as children by the pastors of their churches. Same state, different churches. The girl’s pastor was her father. No one else knows.
A former co-worker I had known for about half an hour told me about an inoperable tumor on her spine that keeps her in constant pain so she’s always doped up on pain meds. It also causes incontinence, so she wets the bed almost every night.
I was born with one of those faces that says, ‘Please, tell me something incredibly personal I have no idea how to appropriately respond to.’ It’s an uncomfortable honor.”
He Was A Turbulent Presence In Her Life
“I met this guy at a party on New Year’s, and I thought he was really attractive. Well, lucky me got a midnight kiss from him, and then I went home since I was only 15. A few days later I got a friend request from him and I was overjoyed. He asked if I wanted to go to a party with him and, of course, I said yes.
For a few months, we partied almost every weekend. I turned 16, he turned 19, and everything was great. Then, one night after we went out, he asked if I wanted to stay the night with him and a friend. I did. That night, I wasn’t me.
Normally, I have morals. I’m a nice girl. But, with the combination of drinking and hanging out with a guy I wanted to be with, I was willing to do anything. He asked me if we could have a threesome and I was really hesitant. They just kept asking and asking so I said, ‘Fine.’ He started touching me as the friend watched and it wasn’t so bad. But, then, his friend unbuttoned his pants and got on top of me. Once that was over with, the guy I liked decided he didn’t want seconds and that was it. I asked him if I could leave so he just said yeah. I walked myself to the car and went home.
After that, the only times I would really talk to him was when I bought weed. One night, I went to a party and I saw him there. We only said hi and he asked for my pipe, so I let him use it. The next day I asked if I could go by and pick it up and he said yeah. I went to his house and we started talking. I ended up telling him how much I liked him. I was just telling him everything about myself.
We ended up hooking up, but after that was when I really got betrayed. Afterward, he told me that he didn’t want a relationship but we could be friends with benefits. Nope. I just said ‘Bye,’ and left.
I didn’t talk to him until a month later when I told him I was pregnant. He denied it was his, but we had a paternity test after my son was born and he is. He has never seen him, even when we did the paternity test. They were in the same room, but he didn’t attempt to even look in the car seat. I know he didn’t tell his family, and I’m sure he still denies it if anyone asks. We don’t talk. He blocked me on Facebook and changed his number. My son is turning 1 soon, and he has never met his dad. He probably never will. I feel sad for my son, but seeing how he reacted, I’m glad that kind of guy isn’t in my son’s life.
The secret part: when I was around 20 weeks pregnant, he asked me if I could keep quiet about it because he didn’t want his girlfriend of two years finding out. As far as I know, they’re still together and she has no idea.”
“It Could Just Be Paranoia”
“I’m 33 years old and dealing with some mental health stuff right now and all that fun business. So, who knows? This could just be paranoia, but I have this sneaking suspicion my dad is a child predator.
It is just little works here and there, such as the shows he watches. He watches a lot of kid shows, anything that involves children dancing in skimpy clothing. Sometimes I catch him standing in front of the TV with his hands in his pants.
He hasn’t done anything, that I know of, but it just makes me highly uncomfortable at times. I think back to things when I was younger. I would take baths with him. A lot. I never thought anything ill of it. He also helped my grandmother with Sunday school a lot. He loves younger women. He is about 67 right now.
I mean, I have zero proof, besides, maybe the bathtub stuff well over two and a half decades ago. It just irks me. Even now, when I am far too old for him to be… yeah. Sometimes, he just makes me very uncomfortable.
But, hey, mental health issues. It could just be paranoia.”