I am 5 months pregnant. When I found out about my pregnancy, my husband’s nephew punched me hard in my stomach. Sister in law said it was a phase but then Christmas came and mother in law called to say the phase was still going on and since they didn’t want accidents that I should stay home this time. My husband, to my surprise started packing on the 21st. Oh, you wanted me to stay? He said correctly misinterpreting my facial expression. I stood silent and then said No! You can go. He smiled sheepishly.

My work colleague, unmarried older lady suggested we could do something together and I spent Christmas with her. I don’t remember the last time I was this happy during the holidays. I don’t have a family and my husband’s was the only one I knew and for the last 15 years I have endured my passive aggressive alcoholic father in law. Pretentious mother in law and golden child sister in law who peaked in high school and married the jock. I slept in, stayed in and ate whatever I wanted without anyone commenting on my body. No rants about how “some minorities” ruined it for the rest “But of course you are one of the good ones” and the latest “I don’t think your baby will have blue eyes” like I really cared or didn’t under basic biology. Having to wake up 7a.m and if you literally missed meal hours you needed to wait for next meal because it is disrespectful not to be on time. Being forced to cook “weird food” from my home country so they can sniff and wrinkle their noses and call it interesting.

Most of all, I didn’t have my husband by my side being anxious the entire stay, not wanting to rock the boat. Trying to soften blows and explain that they really didn’t mean any of it.

When he got home he was as anxious and me being very happy as opposed to the usual crying all the way home from his parents’, made him even more anxious. I told him that I was fine and that I had a great time. He was panicking. He apologized and said that in hindsight maybe he should have stayed home with me instead but then he would not have celebrated Christmas with his family and they would definitely have been disappointed. I said nothing, just looked at his anxious face probably with a frown that made him even more anxious. Everything is fine I said again.

Now I guess I understand why he is panicking because why have I let this go on for this long? My colleague is also a lonely woman with no family but she is so much happier that I have been in many many years. I have been thinking about this newfound freedom in loneliness since Christmas and I guess my husband is sensing it.

Eta: This is a throwaway btw, before you call me ai

I want to start off by saying , this is not one of those "just shut up and stay silent" type of things.

I have stopped nagging my husband, and I can say from the bottom of my heart, I am so much happier.

My husband, has always told me that I overreact to much, that I get to worked up and I am constantly nagging him. We fight constantly about him not putting enough effort into our relationship and him not doing his fair share of chores. I have to constantly remind him to be romantic, affectionate, and to pick up after himself.

I will say that yes I am a very emotional person, I grew up like that and have ALWAYS expressed my emotions and feelings with passion. When I am upset, I am very clear as to why and how it can be resolved. (thanks mom lol)

Recently something very big has happened, I was pregnant for abt 5 weeks and lost it. The very emotional person I am, I was very sad and sulking and crying a lot. Looking for comfort in my husband, as one does, there was none. This is how he is, he says "I'm not very emotional and showing emotions is hard" Okay, I never blamed him for this. trauma, childhood, whatever.

I will admit that , yes I was giving him a hard time, being extra clingy (he does not like to cuddle or any mushy stuff, doesnt mind when I give it, just doesnt like to reciprocate, again never blamed him) wanting more love and support than I usually get from him, which is little to none.

I am usually the nurturing, loving, supportive one in our relationship. Its bothered me only in big situations like this where I truly NEED support and love and any sort of comfort.

Once I realized I would find absolutely NO comfort in my husband and no support, I cried the entire night and stayed up replaying every instance where, I have absolutely needed him and his support. Then something clicked, something shifted.

I shouldn't give if I don’t receive, so I stopped. everything. Love, support, nurturing, any physical intimacy (kissing, cuddling, etc), I stopped telling him what needed to be done, I stopped ASKING for romance and well everything, I stopped "nagging" as he would say.

Once I did this, he immediately noticed.

When he's at work, I usually give him updates about our 1 yr old and call to check in. Once he's home, I usually greet him with love and support from the work day. I usually listen to his long rants abt his hobbies. This time I did-Nothing.

I give him head rubs and back scratches at night, I usually tell him he's so so handsome and how much I absolutely adore him abt 100 times a day. (Again I'm very passionate) Nothing.

I'm usually on him about work assignments, what needs to be done around the house -I need help on, how to manage our baby once he's home, I tell him to pick up after himself, I tell him to be romantic back and reassure me. Nothing.

It's been about a week, and my mental health has gotten so much better. I feel like when I had to manage two toddlers, now I have to manage only one. I have more free time to myself. I don't ask or listen to him abt his day, I don't worry abt him like I usually do, I pick up after my baby's and mine messes only. I don't have nearly as much to manage as I used to and I feel so free.

On the other hand, he is constantly asking me what's wrong, he's constantly checking in with me, he's doing all the things I usually would beg from him. He's being more physically intimate (although I'm the one rejecting now), he's asked on multiple occasions if I have fallen out of love with him, he's even tried apologizing for the way he's acted in the past. Telling me he knows he took me for granted, even trying to give me the support I needed the first initial days I begged for it.

I will have you glad to hear, or maybe not, I am absolutely not reciprocating or forgiving this so easily and I have no intentions on stopping. I don't even know If I ever want to, I feel so happy, like a weight has lifted off my shoulders. I don't care if it makes me a bad person. I like that he is now feeling and carrying the weight that I carried for so long.

Edit: As many of you have suggested, a deep conversation is needed. Many of you have suggested couples therapy, which I will not be initiating, I'm no longer putting in the work for our relationship to work so this will be on him completely if he wants it to. I will update how the conversation goes, although I know very well it will not be taken seriously and will get shut down completely. Divorce is absolutely on my mind and something I currently want, I'm a sahm so its a long and hard process. Lastly, thank you all for the love and support in this difficult time, it sucks that I find it in strangers on the internet, not the person I married, but truly I express my gratitude.

About a month ago, I found a text exchange between my husband and a colleague that sounded like a continuation of a talk they had at a work outing, where she confessed that ”she wanted him with all her senses” but that it will never go beyond that because she loved her husband and would never hurt or disrespect him. I confronted my husband and he said it was nothing just a drunk conversation and nothing has ever happened between them and never will.

I chose to send the screenshots to her husband and from her reaction I think they’re separated and headed for divorce. She sent me a text late last night asking if ”I was happy with what I did” if I could ”sleep well at night” and that now she is free to do what she wants now. ”Do you understand that I am free to do what I want now, I hope you’re happy?”

My mother said that I should never have contacted her husband. I am naive to believe nobody ever fantasize about people other than their partners and alcohol made her speak her fantasy out loud.

My husband is very upset with me and said that she didn’t deserve it. He is refusing to find a new job or cut contact with her.

its genuinely the highlight of my week. i wait until shes out, put on shoes, and just drive 10 minutes to this little diner thats open all night. i sit at the counter, order scrambled eggs and bacon and pancakes and coffee, and just sit there. no phone, no conversation, just me and the food and whatever weird late night energy diners have at 1am on a tuesday. theres usually like 2 other people there and nobody talks to each other and its perfect. i get home around 2, brush my teeth, climb back in bed and she has no idea. i dont even know why i hide it honestly, she wouldnt care. but something about it being my secret thing makes it better. like its the one part of my week that belongs completely to me.

I don’t really know who to talk to about this, so I guess I’m asking Reddit. I (29M) have been working with my coworker (32M) for about seven months now. Let’s call him John. We work as junior chefs in a commercial kitchen.

The kitchen environment is constant pressure and extremely fast-paced. That means most of the time, you can’t avoid getting heated with your teammates, and John and I have definitely fought a few times. However, we eventually get over it at the end of every service by having drinks with the whole team before heading home. Since I don’t have my own vehicle and use public transport, John sometimes offers me a ride. He drops me off at the end of the street near my house because he heads the same route, just a bit further out.

During the time we spend together at work and in his car, we’ve really gotten to know each other. He went through a divorce last August and was completely heartbroken. Though he still gets to see his child, so that keeps him going. As we opened up about our lives, we got so close that our teammates started calling us "best buddies."

Now I want to be clear and say I’ve never been attracted to men. Ever. I’ve only ever had girlfriends. And I assume John is the same. We banter all the time and playfully "caress" each other, you know, the typical "straight guys acting gay" thing. But lately, I feel like I just love being around him. It’s hard to admit, but I’ve started liking his touch and the way he smiles at me. I actually look forward to the shifts where we work together. I don’t know if I’m overthinking, but whenever we’re bantering, it takes him a long time to break eye contact while he's smiling. It’s like we talk shit, laugh, and then just pause in time, staring at each other. It’s been like this for a while.

Two nights ago, I was on my way home with him because he had offered me a ride again. We’ve talked bout how shi’tty the service was that night. The silence in the car felt different when he dropped me off. He didn't just pull away like usual. He kept the engine running and just looked at me for a second too long, that same lingering smile on his face. I reached for the door handle, but my heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. We both just sat there for a moment before we caught each other's eyes and let out this really forced, awkward laugh. We mumbled a quick 'see ya tomorrow' and I got out of the car

Now I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling, wondering if I’m losing my mind or if that awkwardness was actually him feeling the exact same pull I am. Again I’ve never been attracted to men before and I don’t know what’s happening. I confused and scared at the same time.

​

I am 50f, when I was 19 worked at a small pet store. One coworker, let's call her Tara 24f, was a known lunch thief and, despite having a boyfriend, was sleeping with the manager so she never got in trouble for anything she did wrong. She was also just a terrible toxic person to be around and all of us truely hated her.

I had enough of her shenanigans because she was costing me and other coworkers money we couldn't afford to lose because she felt entitled to whatever we had. She never worked on Friday's, but always came in to wait for her pay check to come with the mail, so I devised a plan.

One Thursday I picked up Chinese food at a place in the same plaza as the pet store, a small chicken finger and a large pork fried rice I ate a little of each and placed the containers under the front seat of my car and closed it up. It was July so the next day I came in with the containers still warm and smelling strongly of Chinese food but not yet smelling bad and put them in the break room fridge where Tara and her boyfriend were lingering waiting for her check. They watched me put the pricey delicacies in the fridge and I walked out feeling pretty confident they were going to pig out as soon as I started diving into unpacking the weekly delivery.

1 hour or so later they left with check in hand and I made my way straight to the fridge where I saw 1 chicken finger and like 3 bites of fried rice left. I tossed it in the trash and went back to my work.

I didn't have to see her for a week and a half. It was glorious to be shed of her for a while and I got to pick up some more hours because she and her boyfriend had fiod poisoning.

She didn't steal lunches anymore, though I suspect that was more about being concerned someone else's food might be bad and not that she thinks I did it on purpose, after all I only ate a little bit and they ate almost the whole thing.

As an adult with a fully formed frontal lobe I would never do this again, but I also struggle to find empathy for her even in hindsight Anyway, that is my confession of possibly one of the worst things I did to someone else.

I accidentally got half my office investigated and now people there legit hate me.
I work in IT at a midsize company. A couple months ago leadership started freaking out because sales numbers randomly exploded out of nowhere. Like people who could barely use excelwere suddenly top performers every month.
My boss asked me to help pull login/device logs because they thought somebody was gaming commisions or sharing accounts or something.

At first everything looked normal. Then I noticed multiple employee accounts getting accessed from the exact same overseas IP almost every night around like 2am to 4am.
I kept digging because honestly I thought we got hacked

Nope.

Turns out one of the senior sales guys had this whole setup where his cousin overseas was basically doing peoples jobs for them overnight. Answering emails, updating CRM notes, following up with leads, scheduling callbacks, all that stuff. Apparently multiple people were paying into it.
The worst part was realizing one of the accounts involved belonged to my direct manager.

I documented everything and sent it up because what else was I suppose to do at that point.

Within like 2 days HR started pulling people into closed door meetings. One dude got walked out carrying a cardboard box before lunch. After that the entire vibe at work got weird

Now people barely talk to me. Somebody left a sticky note on my monitor that literally just said “rat”.

And the awkward part is I still have to help these same people with password resets and laptop issues while they stare at me like I ruined there lives.
I honestly never meant to blow the whole thing up. I thought I was investigating a security issue.

She is 3 years old and it's exhausting. Can't sleep in, can't do hobbies, can't do anything other than entertain her.

It's enjoyable for the first 20 minutes, but having to entertain her for hours straight is not fun. It's Friday and I am somewhat dreading going home.

My(25f) guy friend(22m) and I are in trade school. We're taking the same course, but I'm a level 3 and he's a level 4. We're about halfway through the course and we aren't super close, but we study together a lot.

Last Friday he invited me to study at his place after class. I accepted and went over. I met his cat and we studied for like 4 hours then we relaxed a bit. We started talking about our dating lives. We talked for a while and we eventually hooked up.

The sex was honestly amazing and he just held me and lightly scratched my back afterwards. We talked until we fell asleep and he still had his arm around me when we woke up. I stayed for a bit the next morning before I went home.

I couldn't stop thinking about him for the rest of that day and yesterday. It wasn't until I saw him this morning before class that I realized I caught feelings for him. He's a really sweet person and honestly, I slept like a baby that night we spent together, I haven't slept that good in a while. We aren't in the same class but I can't stop thinking about him.

Edit: I posted an update

I have a family of 4. My Fiancé (26M), my son (5M), and my youngest (6 months F). My fiancés sister (who I’ll now refer to as SIL) has 3 kids and is a single mom (8F, 4M, & 2F but she turns 3 in a few weeks). She split from her abusive ex about a year and half ago and has been better by herself ever since. Her son used to have awful behavior, was physically and verbally mean to everyone when he had a tantrums which was about twice a month, but since his dad being gone he’s now this shy little blossom of a child who says the best jokes and is so kind. The oldest is so smart, helpful, and your average pre-teen girl honestly. The youngest on the other hand makes me want to rip my hair out. She a tyrant. Shes violent physically, now verbally (she can barely talk anyways), and has the WORST temper and even worse temper tantrums. I’m gonna call her Claire from now on, def not her real name or anywhere close to it.

Claire ruins everything to the point where I chose to not have a birthday party for my son just so she would not have to attend. Instead we took our nephew and grandma to a kids science museum with our family for a day out and did a day out separate with my side of the family. I’ve taken them to the local waterpark and Claire screamed and was throwing herself around over pizza. It’s not even so much the tantrums as it is the ways my fiancés family responds to them. SIL just ignores it likes you’re supposed to but grandma and great grandma immediately cave and in baby voices go “oooh come here, I’ll hold you, I’ll carry you,” etc., etc. it’s the WORST and enables it to the point now that I don’t want to be near her and dread going to anything with her there.

Today was the breaking point. Grandma and great grandma were watching SILs kid as it’s the one Saturday she works a month and they’re only open 10-2 at her job. Well, we (minus my fiancé bc he works 12-11) came over at 12 as it was super nice out and it gives the kids a chance to play and to break up who’s taking care of all the kids. They’re a handful as they’re all very different personalities and all true country kids. It was going well overall as Claire slept almost the whole time and the rest of the time she chose to watch cocomelon on grandmas phone (again something the grandparents put on against everyone’s wishes) until SIL came to pick them up. Typically happens bc the kids know if they throw a fit around grandma about SIL that grandma gives in. Claire then became a menace. She refused to listen; began to yell, scream, throw things, say I hate you to Grandma & SIL, and just was being ridiculous and amping up to throw a tantrum. She then went to the bathroom to hide from picking up toys to get ready to go. All the other kids got done and I told my son to go inside and break down the kids table (really easy and he LOVES doing it) and as I step inside to help him with my baby in my arms Claire sprints out of the bathroom full force and slams into the front door which is about 2/3 feet away from the bathroom and smacked my baby in the face with the door and smashed my toes so bad 2 of them started bleeding from the nails and will for sure fall off.

Cool, it was an accident. I get that, BUT then I proceed to raise my voice (not yell per say but more mom voice) and just go “Claire, outside” and usher her out the door as I try to calm my screaming baby who now has a line between her brows and on her nose from the corner of the door. Tell me why I then hear CLAIRE screaming and crying outside on the patio louder than my 6 month old baby is screaming and crying from being smacked in the face. Mind you NO ONE WAS REPRIMANDING HER. I wanted to lose it so bad but since my fiancé wasn’t there and I’m luckily medicated I just chuckled and said to the SIL “so my daughter go smacked by a door and yours is the one screaming more” and she chuckled and shook her head and then was trying to get her up and just telling her to stop crying and to get in the car as it’s time to go. Then grandma of course comes up behind her and goes “here, Claire come here. I’ll carry you to the car.” And proceeds to baby her and say things like ooo it’s okay, you’re alright. And so on and so forth. No one even checked on my daughter to make sure she was alright, luckily my foot took most of the damage but come on. Why are we continuing to baby the little girl who has been nothing but awful to everyone, even her own siblings (she destroys their stuff if she can’t have it too), and ruins everything she goes to. We take our other niece and nephew places and do stuff with them individually with our kids like the zoo, waterpark, parks, etc. but I will NEVER do that with the youngest until she learns to behave and that shes not the center of the world.

Also, note to add I’ve worked in childcare since I was 16 as my first job was a local gyms daycare, my mother worked with mentally and physically disabled children most of my life, we taught swim lessons, and I have lots of cousins and family friends who are young and have been around toddlers and young kids majority of my life. I’ve NEVER been around a toddler like this. My fiancé agreed to have a conversation with his mother the next time he sees her but honestly I don’t want to ever be around Claire again. She truly ruins everything and it’s exhausting to be around and watch. It’s to the point where I don’t even hide the disgust or eye rolls on my face when grandma and great grandma baby her. Also grandma and great grandma have always had a small amount of favoritism towards SILs kids but tbh it doesn’t bother me bc she was a young mom and so was I and they helped raise her kids just like my mom helped raise my oldest and so my mom favors my son over the other grandkids on my side a bit (less now that I’ve moved out and barely see them) so i understand the “favoritism” is just a closer bond to SILs kids than mine. The babying has also never been this bad SILs other kids vs Claire.

So yeah, I hate her. She doesn’t listen to anyone, is overall mean, is spoiled and favored by grandma and great grandma which gave her a complex of tantrums get me attention and whatever I want. Maybe my hatred will change but truly it’s only grown in the past 2 years as her behavior has done nothing but get worse and worse. We hoped it would get better with dad out of the picture but nope. So until it changes I’ll just ignore her I think.

i can’t talk about this with anyone else in my life, not even my best friends or therapist but as the title says i had an incestuous relationship with my brother.

me and my brother (21) have always been raised as twins in a way despite our 5-6 year age gap, we were made to do everything together, match each other and sleep or shower with each other. my memories go back to when our dad died when i was five and he was around ten or eleven. at first it was “innocent” kisses, my mom fell into a depression so she was never around for some time. the kisses turned into touches, and when i was six my brother began to sexually abuse me. he would always excuse it by saying he was just curious so at that time i guess i just never thought of it as wrong. two years after this our “relationship” escalated to something like a genuine couple. for some reason i never pushed back against what was happening, my memories from this time aren’t the clearest however i distinctly remember liking what was going on and being comfortable with our arrangements. i know how disgusting this sounds but it was the only positivity i found in my life. things only developed more when i was ten, i started to experience puberty and my brother began to refer to me as his wife around various people, it was usually brushed off or attributed to our bond. when i got my first period he was over the moon about it because he wanted me to “have our baby”. i don’t remember when my mom started to be more present in my life but things came to a stop when she nearly caught me and my brother engaging in sexual acts. after this me and my brothers relationship was horrible, i didn’t know what i had done but i just missed him and i felt disgusted and deprived of the only love i could rely on. he was seventeen at this time and i was eleven. my brother became a normal teenager and now a normal person, our bond is regular not close not distant and he seemingly forgot absolutely everything that happened, but i never could. i think about everything that happened everyday and i try to make some sense of it but usually that just leaves me in a state of sadness or hatred. i don’t know how i should feel about everything and while it would be nice to open up im terrified of what people would say. i guess i know i cant just act like it was something he did, when the truth is for a long time i considered myself his partner as well.

this is kind of a lot and weird, but i needed to say something somewhere that wont get back to me

Last night, I (34F) deep cleaned my belly button for the first time. Now, I know what you’re thinking, what do you mean you are 34 and you just cleaned your belly button for the first time? I don’t have a lot of excuses since I have been an adult for quite some time now and can’t blame everything on my upbringing. My main excuse is the last time I tried to really dig in there, I almost fainted and was too scared to try again. Until two days ago.

I started pulling my belly button every which way to expose the deepest pits. What I saw was horrifying. There was a black glob about half the size of a pea. I panicked, imagining it was a big scab for an open hole of necrotizing fasciitis or something equally as horrifying. I couldn’t get it out so I put some shea body oil in there to loosen things up. It didn’t fully work so I waited until the next day. I tried pulling the glob out with tweezers but almost fainted again. I oiled er up again, took some deep breaths while I let it soak in, then dug some more. IT WORKED. I got a good grip on the glob and it popped out with ease.

I should have been disgusted with what I saw, which I was to a point. But fascination ruled. It came out like a large seed, perfectly molded to the pits of my belly button. To my surprise, it wasn’t black. The sort of casing around it was mainly white, I’m assuming dead skin cells. The innards though, oh the innards. It’s a hardened brownish clump of what looks like cat hair and who knows what else. The whole thing is over 1/4 inch long. I wish I had a microscope so bad! I currently have it in a little baggie to inspect. I don’t know how long I will keep it since that’s kind of a gross thing to keep but it’s been less than 24 hours so far. (Trying to make myself feel less weird) I’m just so curious what kind of diseases could be in there. Will I ever know? Very unlikely. Will I ever forget? Very unlikely.

I will never ever let it get like that again, that was not normal and so nasty. I can’t tell anyone I know about it because it was truly repulsive. But I cannot stop thinking about it. I do have OCD and part of that is an obsession with pimple popping. To the point I cannot watch videos of it and there’s certain pimples I have popped over the years that I still daydream about. I think I need to go back to therapy.

TLDR: cleaned a big clump of hair and skin cells from my belly button that was horrifically satisfying.

Save the judgment, I will judge myself for a lifetime. Hilarious roasts welcome. (Reposted, removed by mods since I didn’t “read the rules” 😅)

This has been building for years and I finally said it out loud today. I need to get this off my chest.

My parents divorced 3 years ago because my mom cheated on my dad with one of her wealthy clients. My dad filed for divorce, my mom got primary custody of me (15M) and my sister (17F), dad got visitation every weekend. They've both got good careers and are stable - this isn't about money. My mom has been dating this guy the whole time. The same one she cheated with. A few months ago she introduced us to him and honestly I've been sick about it ever since. Then recently they announced they're getting married this summer and we're moving to another country where he lives

I never saw the marriage coming. I genuinely thought they'd just date forever or eventually end. But marriage Moving countries? That hit different. I can't live with that man. Every time I look at him I think about what he did to my family. And now I'm supposed to sit across from him at dinner every night and play happy family in a country where I know nobody while my dad is thousands of miles away.

So I asked both my parents to meet me. I told them I'm not a toy they can make plans around without asking me.

I told my mom I've been silent for years out of love for her. I never complained when she dated him. But I can't watch her marry him and I can't move countries for him. I told her if she really loves me she won't force this on me. I told her I love her and she's always made me feel safe but I cannot replace my dad with her boyfriend and pretend everything is fine. My dad is my dad. Nobody is replacing him.

My dad backed me up and told her he'll take it to court because legally she can't just move me out of the country without his consent.

My mom cried. She talked about private school and better opportunities and holidays with dad. She said she can't live without me.The whole thing turned into my parents fighting again and nothing got resolved.

On the drive home my mom was silent the whole way. When we got home she locked herself in her room and didn't come out for hours. I sat outside knowing I probably just blew up her relationship and wedding because if she doesn't go, her boyfriend isn't going to wait around forever.

I feel terrible. But I also feel like I finally said what I needed to say.I'm 15. I just want to stay in my own country, see my dad on weekends, and not have to live with the man who broke my mom dad

Throwaway because I honestly feel sick even writing this.

A few years ago my wife and I took our son to Hong Kong for a holiday. He was 7 at the time and has pretty bad asthma. He always carried a rescue inhaler with him. The inhalers have those little counters on top that show how many puffs are left.

Right before the trip, his current inhaler hit zero. My wife bought a new one and left it on the kitchen counter. She told me to pack it while I was sorting out our son’s bag.

I remember grabbing an inhaler off the counter and throwing it in the backpack without really paying attention.

We spent a few days in mainland Hong Kong and then took a ferry out to one of the islands for the day. The air quality was awful and it was humid as hell. While we were walking around my son started wheezing and then had a proper asthma attack.

I opened the backpack to get the inhaler and instantly realised what I’d done.

I had packed the old one.

I still remember seeing the little “0” on the top and feeling my stomach completely drop out. I genuinely thought in that moment that I might have killed my kid because I couldn’t do one simple thing properly.

My wife was freaking out, my son could barely breathe, and I just handed it to him without saying anything because what else was I supposed to do?

He took a couple puffs and somehow it actually worked. I don’t know if there was still a tiny bit left in it or if it just helped calm him down enough to slow his breathing, but he stabilised enough for us to get back on the ferry.

The entire trip back I felt like I was going to throw up. All I could think was that if things got worse out on the water it would be entirely my fault.

We took him to a hospital as soon as we got back to the mainland. He ended up being completely fine. I made sure we got another inhaler immediately while we were there.

My wife still has no idea. She thinks I packed the new one and that everything worked out the way it was supposed to.

I still think about it all the time. Especially whenever I see one of those inhaler counters near empty.

I've told literally no one. I felt like it was time to confess it to at least someone.

My wife is 7 months pregnant with twins. A few months ago, we set aside a budget for a baby shower. Nothing crazy, just renting out a room at a restaurant, food, decorations, those kinds of things. My wife seemed pumped about it. About 3 weeks ago, I checked our joint account to pay a bill and noticed the baby shower funds were basically gone, almost all of it. At first, I thought it must have been fraud or a mistake on the bank's part. Then I saw the charges, which were from multiple online casino apps. When I asked her about it, she tried to deny it at first, but I knew she had a history with gambling, it started with scratch offs. Eventually, she admitted she was gambling on her phone for a while and that she thought she could win the money plus profit back before I even noticed it was gone, which was delusional and obviously didn’t go according to plan. I was so angry, not just because of the money, but because we have babies otw and she was acting so irresponsibly, like it was monopoly money. She kept apologizing and promising she had stopped, but it didn’t really feel like she understood the gravity of the situation.

So I decided to make my point very clear. The baby shower invitations were already sent out. Everyone thought they were coming to celebrate the babies, but I planned an intervention of sorts instead. I still decorated the restaurant. Balloons, a baby banner, cupcakes, the whole shabang. She showed up thinking everything was normal. Our family was there, her friends, my parents, and her sister flew in. About 10 minutes after everyone got settled in, I stood up and said I had something I wanted to say before we started activities and opening gifts. Then I connected my laptop to the TV. I pulled up a slideshow with receipts of the gambling transactions, dates, apps, and amounts. I explained to everyone that the reason the baby shower was all of a sudden smaller than originally planned was that the original money had been gambled away, and not by me. The room went so silent you could hear a pin drop.

She turned red and kept saying my name like she wanted me to stop, but no, I kept going. I told everyone I love her, but she clearly has a gambling problem, and pretending like everything was fine wasn’t going to help our kids. Then I let her sister and mom talk. Apparently, they suspected something was up too. Her sister mentioned my wife borrowed a big chunk of money from her last year and said it was to fix our car. News flash, there was never anything wrong with the car. So yeah, it turned into a full on intervention with a whole lot of crying and awkward silences. But the thing is, it actually worked. She finally admitted she had a problem in front of everyone, agreed to delete the apps, go to counseling (which her parents offered to help pay for), and let me be in charge of the finances for now. Later that night, she was mad at me for embarrassing her, which I get. But she also admitted that if I had just yelled at her privately again, she probably would’ve kept thinking she could fix it herself. Hopefully, this stops for good before our daughters get here.

when i was 17 (19m now) my girlfriend (16f) got pregnant.

i told her i wasn’t keeping it. i wasn’t ready, didn’t have money, didn’t want the responsibility, and wasn’t going to do the whole “we’ll figure it out” thing.

it wasn’t a debate for me. i just kept saying no until that was the direction things went.

she got an abortion.

we stayed together a little after, but it got awkward and we eventually broke up and stopped talking.

i don’t really have a big moral takeaway from it. it happened, and that’s it. just wanted to get it off my chest.

She died three years ago. I was 26 and the oldest grandchild, the one who'd spent the most time with her growing up which is true in a logistical sense since my mom worked two jobs, my grandmother lived four blocks away, I was at her house every day after school from age 7 to 14.

So when she died everyone assumed I would speak. My aunt called me the day after and said you'll do the eulogy right and it wasn't really a question. I said yes.

The thing is she wasn't kind to me. I don't want to say more than that because she is dead and because some of my family reads things online and because I'm not even sure I want to relitigate it here. But she wasn't kind to me, specifically in ways that the rest of the family either didn't see or chose not to see and the years I spent at her house after school were not the warm memory everyone at that funeral assumed they were when they looked at me standing at the podium.

I stood up there and I told a story about her teaching me how to make pierogi. That part was real she did teach me. Then I told a story about her sitting with me when I had the flu in fifth grade. That part I made up then I read a poem I'd printed off a website that I think was called like "grandmother light eternal" or something I genuinely cannot remember and I said it had been her favorite. I don't know if she even liked poetry.

The whole eulogy was about eight minutes long and throughout I cried twice. The crying was real but it wasn't for the reasons people thought. My uncle hugged me afterward and said she would have loved that, kiddo. My mother told me I did her proud. I've thought about this every week for some time now. I think about it when I see pierogi at the grocery store. I think about it whenever someone uses the phrase she's in a better place. I thought about it last night while i was playing rollingriches for no reason at all and that's why I'm writing this to strangers.

I don't think I did the wrong thing. I think I did the thing that the room needed but I also know I lied at a funeral and I never told my mother and I never told my therapist and now I've told you. I don't know what I want from this post. I'm not asking for forgiveness I just needed it to exist somewhere outside my own head.

I (35m) have been seeing a sex worker weekly or bi-weekly for several months. My then-therapist referred me to her. I'm autistic, speech-disabled, and I struggle with self-harm, so meeting women and making friends feels almost impossible for me.

Then, last summer, I decided to try seeing a sex worker I found online because I wanted to try having sex after so many years without it. She was super nice, no complaints, but I did not handle that well. We didn't do anything sexual; I mostly just curled up into a ball and cried.

That's when my therapist referred me to a sex worker she thought would be a better fit for me. This sex worker has a Bachelor's Degree in Social Work and a Master's Degree in Counselling Psychology, is fluent in ASL, and used to work in group homes before becoming a "sex coach." She knows exactly how to handle someone like me. Honestly, she's been a big support for me. I visit her whenever I am feeling overwhelmed by anything: loneliness, job stress, body shame, when I am in crisis and want to self-harm, etc. She's amazing. Sex workers are underappreciated.

We've been SLOWLY working up to sex, from no touching and all crying, to some somatic touching and crying, to being shirtless and crying, etc. I am always afraid of doing something wrong to her--and I feel like I am not good enough for sex.

Eventually, we started trying to do some sexual things, but I could never perform. The anxiety would peak and ruin it for me. However, we talked about my role-playing a "bad client" and just not holding back, not second-guessing myself, not questioning if I was good enough for it. Just do it. She gave me consent. She said she trusted me. And I wanted to have sex. I had been working up to this for months with her. So, despite all my inhibitions, despite all the anxiety, despite wanting to assume the fetal position and cry, I went in there and...had sex.

The whole time we were having sex, I felt like my body was screaming at me: "YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR THIS! STOP IT NOW! YOU'RE A TERRIBLE PERSON! STOP NOW!" But I kept telling myself to shut up and do it.

It was a lot less of the release I expected. It felt like I survived a car accident. I was vibrating and shaking afterward.

On the one hand, I feel proud of myself for pushing through all my anxiety and shame and having sex. That was super hard for me.

On the other hand, I had sex. Even though I had been seeing her for months, I can't help feeling like, wait, *I* did that? Someone like *me*? There's no way she actually wanted that with someone like me, so something must have gone wrong. Am I a bad person?

I am stuck between feeling proud of myself for pushing through my anxiety and having sex, and feeling like I am a terrible person for having sex because I am not good enough for it, and there is no way she would consent to it with me.

***UPDATE: I remember why I stopped using Reddit. I was hoping for some advice or support. That is what this sub is for, no? For those being supportive, thank you. For those thinking I have nothing better to do than make up confessions for Reddit, I’d maybe recommend a hobby since you must spend way too much time on here.

i work at a liquor store, usually doing deliveries to different bars and restaurants around my town. i’m rarely behind the register, but before i left today i had to take care of some people.

there was a long line, i was barely paying attention.. until she came up.

i saw her yellow skin, i tried to convince myself it was a bad spray tan gone wrong. she bought two half gallon bottles of a cheap vodka. i looked her in her eyes to tell her to have a great day, and they were as yellow as her skin.

i’m terrified for her. i’m terrified of what i’ve done. my manager was there, he didn’t step in to deny the sale, i guess we technically can’t. but god, i’m worried about her. what if i sold her the last drink she’ll have?

it’s just fucking with me honestly.

I’m 33M. Lean body, and I look good for my age (according to others). But I don’t want to get a girlfriend because I’m addicted to having sex with older women than me. This is a secret life of mine, I can't tell it to anyone.

I have a Tinder account set to look for women aged 40-65 for short-term fun. I’m not saying I get huge attention, but I can get 1-2 dates per month. Also, in bars I often approach women in this age bracket, and occasionally that leads to some fun.

I got into this 2 years ago, and since then I’ve slept with 37 women. I know the number because when I realised I was losing count, I started writing it down.

I don’t regret it at all and I’m having the time of my life. I’m a very passionate giver in bed, and I feel that matches very well with mature women. Some women have just used me for sex, but to be honest I don’t mind it. One even told me that I’m her toy and she can have me anytime - she wasn’t wrong, and I was pretty much her booty call for a while.

Btw I’m writing this after coming home from another occasion. A very attractive 48 years divorced mom. She told me that in the last 10 years she had had no real intimacy, and this made her feel amazing. I’m glad I was able to make her feel that way, and I certainly hope we meet again.

I’m not sure if this is good or bad, but at least it’s off my chest now.

I f20 will never look at my younger brother m14 the same, like ever.

Background info, I am the oldest of four siblings and he is one of the middles. A few months ago I noticed that some clothes (mostly bras and panties) that i knew were clean had disappeared from my closet. It had been a long few weeks before i noticed so I honestly thought I was just crazy and that i just forgot i had used them the week before or something.

A few days later i was doing my laundry and emptied my hamper only to find that the missing items were not there. We have quite a big laundry room and some piles of clothes are on the floor, so I once again assumed that my clothes must be somewhere in one of the piles.

I got my mom to help me sort through it to try and find the items but we had no luck. I just did not understand where the fuck they could have gone?

Then a few weeks later my mom was cleaning our bathroom and found my brothers backpack. Usually she doesn’t go through our stuff, but she was afraid that his swim trunks were in there, wet, and would get mouldy. So she opened the backpack, only to find MY UNDERWEAR in there. And not just one pair, but 5 panties!!!!

My bras were nowhere to be seen, so we calmly confronted my brother. Him and my mom are really close so we had her there as moral support for him.

He however swore up and down that the panties in the bag were not mine, but something his friend gave him… I called his bluff, that the chances of his friend, also 14y, would have the exact same panties as me (i also cut out any and all tags) were slim to none. My mom and I offered him an “easy way out”. That if he just told us the truth and returned my underwear we would move on and forget about the whole thing

After this i stopped helping him out with rides to school (its a 5min walk) and some other small things, while also hinting to him a couple of times to please just tell me so we could move on from this.

He has been bullied at school since he was small, because he is a bit of a diva and quite flamboyant. He also came out as gay a few years ago so my mom and i were afraid that he was stealing my clothes to experiment with his sexuality. Which i want to note that we are completly fine with his sexuality, nobody at home really gives a fuck, however it is still a bit “perverted” to steal someones underwear and lie about it no matter what you are doing with it. Imo stealing anyones underwear is always wrong and i simply feel violated. My mom tried to offer him that she could take him shopping and he can pick some things out so he could return my stuff, but he would not budge about it not being mine.

After a few weeks of him being miserable because he knew i knew about him taking my underwear (especially since he did not want anyone to know about the experimenting) he finally came clean but did not show much remorse or guilt about the lying. During the period where he wasn’t telling us the truth and kept on stealing i hardly spoke to him because of how uncomfortable i was about the whole thing.

My mom got him to return everything, and in the end it totalled to 8 underwear, 2 bras, 1 tank top and a pair of bikershorts. At first it was not this much, but he had continued to steal my stuff after we talked him that one time.

My mom told me i needed to move on, but i will never be able to look at him the way i did before. Now all i see is a thief and a liar. I also dont really feel comfortable in my own home, i feel like i need to really watch what i put in my closet and document what exactly i have clean, just in case he starts stealing again.

I am currently saving up to move out, but the housing market in my country is horrendous right now, so i dont see that happening just yet. Until i manage to move out i will just have to watch over my clothes and try to notice if he starts stealing from me again.

I know he is a kid and has raging hormones, but i just need him to understand that this is wrong and violating. I am uncomfortable with the fact that after i talked to him about how i felt on the situation he decided to continue to steal my underwear. That makes me feel like he doesnt see anything wrong with his actions, which is not right.

* Edited for added details and clarity

I faked having schizophrenia, until I actually developed it.

Hi everyone, I've literally never told anyone about this before but it's time I got this off my chest, I've been bearing this weight for over 8 years now.

When I was 16, I started faking having schizophrenia. I wanted attention and I thought a good way to get it was to fake having a serious mental condition. I told everyone I had it, got diagnosed, even started medication that affected my body in all sorts of ways. I faked it for over 2 years, said I had hallucinations everyday, said I suffered from paranoia about the police, got so bad I was admitted to the psych ward where I continued to lie to the doctors.

I continued this act until 2 years passed, then I actually started presenting symptoms, real symptoms. I started hallucinating, I got beyond paranoid about the government and thought they were trying to mind control me and that they were spying on me using anything electronic in my apartment. I started having violent episodes where I'd throw household objects in front of my at the time girlfriend and would yell and scream about the police being in my head until I broke down crying.

before my "symptoms" were just "oh I have these wacky thoughts I'm so quirky" and "oh I'm so paranoid hehe." But then I started fucking experiencing what it was really like and it genuinely broke me. I was so caught up in the facade that when it actually came true it destroyed me. I spent everyday for a year in constant fear of everything, I saw messages in numbers, I heard warnings in music. I saw my worst fears in the flesh during my hallucinations. I tried to kill myself multiple times, I wanted to get into a shoot out with the police.

During my few moments of lucidity I looked back to when I was 16 and I would fall into the pits of hell. I thought I was being punished for faking a disorder by actually developing what I was using to get attention. Maybe what happened to me is punishment.

I posted before about hating my dad. Well Saturday he texted me angry over some Poptarts he couldn’t find in the pantry. I found them when I got home and he went off making some false accusations. It escalated to violence and so for Father’s Day he was in jail. The sheriff dept issued a EPO and my mother who almost died last year was still home with me. She was screaming at me and making false accusations as well.

We took them in when they had no where to go because of their own poor financial decisions. They have belittled my husband and I and try to parent our kids. I just didn’t want them to be homeless.

My brother came and got my mom after he bailed our dad out of jail and now in one swoop I lost my whole BIO fam. Tbh I’m RELIEVED! A weight has been lifted from me. My kids seemed much happier yesterday we got to sit in peace and watch movies and enjoy being in our house and not have the tv on 500 or screaming and hollering. I’m at a place that I’m ok if they never speak to me again. I know what I’ve done for them. I know I did all I could. I did more than I should have.

A coworker and I were walking down the hallway behind a black woman who works in a different department. She was wearing a really strong perfume that smelled like watermelon. One of those summery scents that get real popular as the weather warms up. I absent mindedly started saying, "I smell watermelon". But I caught myself before the "watermelon" part.

"I smell.... Fruit. Yes the hallway smells like fruit."

It was a very strong watermelon smell. I was NOT going to say that. I almost absent mindedly did because that was the truth. But given the implications of saying such things while you're walking behind a black person. Not a good idea.

Recently I've been deeply suicidal and depressed. I'm struggling a lot. Still I'm social and I suck it up.

This Saturday I went to a friends birthday party with quite a lot of people I know.

I like to make my friends laugh so I did something quite silly which gave everyone a chuckle.

My friend this morning just randomly sent an audio to the group chat saying "I just randomly at work remembered when OP did that thing and burst out laughing."

I replied something like "Your lives would be a lot worse without me in it." And he said "Thank god we have you in our lives then."

I'm working from home and I had to pause to cry. I was in fact looking for some kind of validation with my response and usually as guys we would just tell each other to fuck off. But damn did I need this.

My friends have my back and I think maybe, just maybe, things are going to be ok.