There are secrets, and then there are secrets. From things so embarrassing that one can only hope no one witnessed, to things so dark that they might change our perspective on humanity as a whole, a deep dark secret can really be quite a dramatic thing to learn. Here are 50 stories about some of the deepest, darkest secrets that regular people out there have been hiding.
When I was about nine years old, I once went over to a neighbor's house. I would usually go hang out with my adult neighbors because they would let me watch TV and give me snacks in exchange for helping them. I didn’t mind helping them, and I did so with the intention of seeing if I could play with the foster puppies she had.
Well, this day, she wasn’t there, but her door was unlocked and I just went in and played with the puppies. When I walked out of the house, she was coming down the driveway. There was a bunch of stuff in front of her door, blocking it from view from the driveway. So I just pretended like I had been waiting at her door for a minute. Then we walked in and I got to play with the puppies again.
My secret is that when I was very young, I'd frequently put my mom’s vibrating adult toy in my mouth and turn it on because it felt funny. I didn’t even know what the thing was at the time. Now I just wonder what the heck was wrong with me. Also, I’m a guy. I had no idea what it was used for. And no, I don't remember the taste of it.
The experience didn’t leave any lasting impression on me. I was doing it because of the vibrating sensation, not the taste. I'm pretty sure it was clean. Or at least that's what I’m telling myself all these years later...
My secret is that I often used to comb my butt hairs with my sister's styling comb whenever she would get under my skin. It was a great way to get back at her without her even knowing that anything was up. Anyone with siblings knows that you don’t always get along with one another, but few have ever taken their revenge quite as far as I did!
My secret is that I think that I am beginning to hallucinate every once in a while. It's mostly just random little things that appear to be there, and then a few moments later they aren't. It hasn’t gotten to the point yet where it really hurts my life in any way, but I’m not gonna say I’m not concerned that it might grow into a bigger problem in the future. Yet, so far, I haven’t told a single person.
My last relationship ended because she was cheating on me with another man. When I found out who it was, I was absolutely horrified. The other man was her dad. In regards to how I found out, I can't share all the gory details, as they're pretty identifying. But what I do want to say is that it was nothing visible physically. They wouldn't kiss on the lips or do anything that someone could brush off as "European friendly."
I also never witnessed anything physical happening between them with my own eyes. The proof was in the place where you'd expect it to be in today's day and age, an electronic device. If you know anyone dealing with something like this, help them in any way you can. I have not told anyone in my life that this was the reason that my relationship ended.
My secret is that I’m pretty sure I'm obsessed with being in a relationship, and I've started finding any woman who talks to me attractive. I no longer have any real reason or interest in getting into most of the relationships that I get into, I simply can’t stand the idea of being single for even a short time. I think it might be some kind of psychological addiction, in all honesty.
My mom abused me for my entire childhood by either being active in the mistreatment, or by being silent and allowing her boyfriend to do it. Fast forward to now. Her mental health issues are taking a toll. She is frequently intoxicated, frequently uses bad substances, and gambles away everything she has. When she calls me, it's like someone I don't even know.
Last week, she was in the hospital for a heart attack, and I really wished she would just pass. I should feel bad about it—but I don't. I lost her when I was a kid. I feel like this version of her is an imposter, and I just want it to go away. I never want to see her again, and I want my pain to end. Needless to say, I have never shared these feelings of mine with anyone.
I don’t know what people’s reactions would be if I admitted this openly. When I post about it online, the response is a mixture of sadness and happiness for me. I would like to give a somewhat brief overview to my story, and perhaps it will help others in similar situations. I don't remember exactly when the mistreatment started. But my earliest memories are of it occurring.
Here is a funny joke: What do someone who wears glasses and someone who was mistreated from an early age have in common? They both think how they see the world is normal. I never thought to question anything, ever. For a number of years. I was a quiet child and didn't make many friends because people scared me. By the time I realized that something was terribly wrong in my household, I refused to let the few friends I did have over.
I have a very vivid memory of being small. I must have been around four, because my younger brother was an infant. My mother had taken the three of us into one of the bedrooms and locked the door while her boyfriend smashed things downstairs and was just losing his mind. He was a substance user too. He had a cattle prod and I could hear the crackling of the electricity through the walls.
My mom had burns from it all over her arms. She asked me, a small child, if I would call the authorities if he broke into the room. I started crying, and begged her to please not make me. I said that I would get in trouble, and that he would hurt me. I was scared. She asked me, "Do you want me to lose my life?" Those words are so clear in my mind, I can still hear them perfectly.
To this day, I have nightmares of having to call the authorities, and not being able to speak, or pushing the wrong buttons. The mistreatment became worse. Every trip to the hospital was an accident. Every public outburst was treated as a parent having to wrangle an unruly young kid. Finally, one year, I tried to run away from home in the winter.
I packed some clothes in my little backpack and went out onto the ice of a river near our house. I laid down in the middle, in the cold, and daydreamed. Just watching the snow fall down. I was nice and warm in my coat and multi-layered pants. My parents would never buy a snowsuit for me. But I eventually went back. Because I was scared of what would happen to my mom.
Her boyfriend always told me that if I ran away, he would kill her and my brother, and keep me alive so that I would have the memory. I stayed until I was 14 years old, and he tried to drown me in dirty dishwater. I then ran away again and started living at a friend’s house. My mom would call constantly, begging me to come back. Apparently, things had gotten so much worse for her.
But I was too afraid, and the guilt piled up. He ended up leaving when I was 18. I have not talked to him since. I consider the time I was around him like a terrible, horrible nightmare. But even then, my mother spiraled out of control. What was once a functional drinker turned into a complete mess. She turned to prostitution to subsidize her habits. She lived on the streets.
Every time I moved and slowly got better, she would call and ask for money. I gave in to that for a long time. I was hospitalized and diagnosed with a number of mental disorders. She called me a malingerer and said that my pain was nothing in comparison to her own. I got married, and had two wonderful children. She tells me that my husband will leave because I am crazy.
She also claims that my children will grow to be substance users. That I am her clone. That I can't escape it. She is like a voice in my head at all times, berating me. While at the same time working her way back in, like some sort of manipulative spouse. When I listen to music intended for exes, it makes me think of her. Adele's “Hello” is about my mom for me.
To everyone who has dealt with a similar situation, you are amazing. You are strong. You will get through this. When I was young, every single day was a nightmare. I thought it would never ever end. But it did. It will get better. You just have to make it better. I love you all. I don't know who the heck you are, or what you have been through, but I love you.
And to everyone reading this story and feeling guilty because you didn’t have it as bad or thinking what you went through is nothing in comparison, stop it. You just stop it right now! You have pain. You are allowed to feel it without feeling bad and comparing it to another person's pain and suffering. We don't sit around comparing our joys, do we?
You don't win a hundred dollars off of a scratch ticket and immediately tell yourself, "Well, this is stupid. I don't have as much money as Bill Gates!" Your suffering is just as darn legitimate as mine, because it's you who felt it! And now you all know the secrets of my relationship with my mom that I have carried with me for basically my entire life.
Well, this is a secret that my mom confided in my girlfriend, somehow not expecting her to tell me. I found out a month ago. And it is still messing me up. My dad took his own life when I was two years old, just two days before Christmas. It always left me wondering why—but I wasn't prepared for the answer. I’m 24 now, and just found out. Apparently, she was cheating on him with my stepdad.
She had also told him he would never see me again. So he took his own life at his place of work after hours because he didn't know where else to go. I always thought my middle name being my stepdad’s first name was just a coincidence, because I don't remember him coming into my life until a couple of years later.
My mother found out that she was pregnant with my little sister just three days after my father's passing. I've always resented my stepdad, even before I knew the full story, because he had burned all my baby pictures with my dad in them and I never knew why. I look nothing like my stepdad by the way, so I know I am my dad’s kid.
I still haven't confronted my mom since finding out.
A little more than three months ago, my fiancée, who I’ve been with for the past 15 years, lost her life in a car accident more than two-thousand miles away. I literally have nothing now. I’m so depressed that every time I see someone happy on social media of any kind, I get closer and closer to taking my own life. That’s how bad it is.
My therapist isn’t able to help me. No one is. Everyone keeps telling me it gets better, but so far it only gets worse. I don’t want to take my own life, I just don’t want to be alive anymore, because every single minute of life is an absolute nightmare. I'm also struggling with the anger I feel towards the guy who took her from me.
The moron who plowed through three cars in his truck. Every single day I struggle against my own unquenchable thirst for vengeance. The very idea of "hope" feels like a completely foreign concept to me right now. And I will carry these secret feelings around with me everywhere I go, every single day for the rest of my life.
My wife thinks that I go to work 30 minutes early every morning because my training program requires me to do so. In reality, I get there early every day so that I have time to watch reruns of Dog the Bounty Hunter with my boys. This is my secret. My wife doesn’t suspect a thing. And I wouldn’t dream of having it any other way!
My big secret is that I fall asleep to the Donkey Kong Country soundtrack pretty much every single night. I know it’s not exactly the darkest thing in the world to be hiding from people, but I just worry that everyone would laugh at me if they found out. I find the music very relaxing, and the habit is too ingrained in my routing to stop now!
I have told my husband, and my mom knows, but nobody else. When I was seven years old, I pooped the bed in the middle of the night. Just like a perfect log in my underwear. I was scared of getting in trouble, so I threw my underwear and poop behind the dresser in my bedroom and promptly forgot that I had done so. My mom found it two weeks later...
My secret is that I had a baby when I was 15 years old, and he was adopted. Closed adoption. Most painful thing I’ve ever gone through. He turns 18 in a few months and, if he so chooses, he can find me. I’m married and have kids now, and my kids have no idea that he exists. I really, really want to meet him, but I’m terrified that he’ll have mental disorders like his biological father, who is now serving time for taking someone’s life.
The real reason that my arm is broken is that I now owe a seemingly unattainable amount of money to the wrong people, all because I tried to help my deadbeat brother out of a bad situation. PSA time people. Substances can ruin not only your life, but your family's lives as well. Thankfully, I'm still alive and have cut my brother out of the equation.
I won't be talking with him or his circle anymore. I am going to disappear for a while and try to rebuild my life elsewhere. For those who want to help, seriously. Thank you. I do not deserve a single bit of it. And as far as any of my other family and friends will know, I broke my arm in an accident and I’m just taking a little vacation.
One time, my wife and I got very intoxicated. The scallops she ate were not sitting well, so she went to sit on the floor of a hot shower. I join her and we are just sitting there hugging when she suddenly pukes all over me. Not too bad, as we were in the shower anyway. A little later, she has to pee and, since neither of us wants to move, I tell her to just go. So she does. On me.
And we will never speak of that day to anyone we know.
My secret is that I have an adult toy buried deep in my closet. I haven't used it for years. When I did use it, I used to shove it in the opening of a filled laundry bag so it would feel like I was sleeping with something that had heft and mass. I had some very lonely times in college and that really, really helped me get through them.
I'm too hesitant to throw it away now because I don't want someone to find it in my garbage. I just know that the one day I throw it away will be the day that there is a freak storm or flood that blows the trashcan over and spills it all over the street. Or the garbage bag will rip. Or it will bounce out of the garbage truck and into the street.
So it sits in my closet until the day I pass and my family has to discover it.
My secret is that I have Leukemia. CLL, to be precise. It’s the slowest growing form of Leukemia and there’s no treatment for it other than stem cell, and hopefully, I don't need that any time soon. I’m not even 40 years old yet. I don’t look sick at all. Even my own family wouldn’t believe me if I told them, so why would anyone else? I guess you need to be frail, pale, skinny, and bald to have cancer, right?
My secret is that I've actually been homeless for a while and I’ve been hiding it from everyone. I have literally no money to my name. On the bright side, I have a job interview at a CVS pharmacy tomorrow at noon. I'm so terrified and really hope it will go well. I need this job very badly. I'm honestly desperate at this point…
I recently revealed to a Reddit friend the fact that I am a closet schizophrenic who has had daily conversations for over forty years with my daughter who passed as an infant. This has been my biggest secret for all those decades. I cannot tell you how liberating it was to finally share something that I couldn't even reveal to my therapist.
Now that I am Reddit-outed, I've also shared the news with my husband, best friend, and therapist. What did I learn? That they suspected my condition all along. And are unconditionally supportive.
I have four sisters. I’m the only guy in the family. My secret is that I’ve slept with the best friends of every single one of my four sisters. And none of them have ever found out. No matter who my sisters become friends with, I always try to get them into my bed. And I don’t say anything to them because I want my sisters to keep bringing friends home.
My secret is that I know my friend's wife doesn't love him anymore, but she doesn't want to divorce him because of their baby girl. I think they'll separate in less than a year. In case you’re wondering how I know this information, the husband is my friend. He’s not my closest friend in the world, but I still consider him a good friend. Me and his wife also have other friends in common.
They have arranged free days for each other where they each get to hang out separate from one another. She gets Tuesdays and he gets Thursdays. It's been three times now that she has spent her free day coming to gatherings with our mutual friends where she always gets a couple of drinks. Usually just two or three, so she's not even close to intoxicated per se. But that's when the secrets come out.
She starts crying about how she isn't happy with her guy because she doesn't love him anymore and wants to get out of the relationship but can't due to her daughter. At least five people know about this, including myself. And, to my knowledge, the husband doesn't know yet. I have to add: I DO NOT feel comfortable intervening in other people's business if they want to separate or stay together.
I think that's something they must decide as a couple. I cannot brainwash someone or try to make suggestions and influence whether they choose to be together or seperate as spouses. That just doesn’t seem right to me. All I can do is lay down the facts, stay out of their business, and let them make their own decision when they feel the time is right.
My house is currently up for sale. Everyone I know thinks I’m moving to a nearby area. I’m actually planning on selling my house, quitting my job abruptly, and then traveling the world for a few years. All of this is a secret and I don’t plan on letting anyone know until it actually happens. I hope to hand in my notice at work before the end of this year!
My secret is that my mum almost took my life in a fit of rage when I was about three years old. We have a great relationship now, and we have for most of our lives, but we've both suffered from mental health issues and I think she blames that incident on a lot of my self-esteem issues. No one would ever suspect that a thing like that could have happened between us.
My secret is that I used to regularly get intimate with my cousin for a few years, and only stopped when she unexpectedly got pregnant. Obviously, no one in our family knows that we had been doing this. And yes, I guess this means I might be the father of my cousin’s kid. I don’t really know for sure. But either way, this is a secret I’ll take to the grave.
My secret is that I’m 32 years old and I still suck my thumb to help myself fall asleep each night. I also often do it when just sitting idly alone. If anyone saw me do this, they would laugh and think I was doing some kind of impression of a child. But it’s a habit that I really do still have and have never outgrown since infancy.
I spent two years of my life being repeatedly taken advantage of by the guy across the street when I was younger. It started when I was ten and he was about 15, probably as a game of Doctor or Truth or Dare or some such thing. It wasn't until years later that I looked back and noticed the fact that I was in elementary school and he was in high school, and then I realized what it was.
It finally ended when I was twelve and my family moved away. He was really good at all the grooming, saying things like it was totally natural and that I'd get in trouble if anyone found out. He'd show me adult videos and even got physical a few times. He kicked me in the ribs once and locked me in a closet on a few occasions.
When I finally realized what was going on, probably years later when I was 16, I thought about the fact that I was 11 when he was 16 and realized how screwed up it really was. I knew right then that I'd never tell anyone. I didn't want my parents finding out. They both had to work full time. I got home from school at 3:00 and my mom at 5:00.
So it normally happened in the hour and a half or so that they weren't home for. I never wanted them to feel like it was their fault that I was put into that situation and mistreated, so I'll take the secret to my grave. My spouse and best friends don't even know about this. And no one ever will. Thanks, internet. That actually felt pretty good to get off my chest!
I could never take my own life. But I sometimes ponder about how easy it would be to just not have to deal with life anymore. The last two years of my life have been emotionally very difficult. It's gotten a little bit better as of late, but things are still not where I wish they were. I use homework as a coping mechanism, and I also use it to get out of my house, where I honestly hate spending time.
When I get off work, I try to find things to do, just so I don't have to sit there alone, falling asleep alone. My bed feels so darn huge. And nobody knows that I feel this way.
My secret is that my ex-wife slept with her sister’s husband on New Year’s Eve of 1998. Only the four of us know about this. That is it. The sisters sort of made up. My ex told me that it was not consensual. I don't know what to believe. I am just glad that I am finally divorced from that family and their endless drama.
I have the most amazing girlfriend now. We talk, and we communicate very well. It is a mature adult relationship. Good riddance to the old crew and their nonsense. I have so many stories about them, you would not even believe it. For example, my former sister-in-law would punish her kids and my kids by not letting them play together when she was mad at her sister.
The kids were six years old when this was happening!
About three months after finding out that my now ex-wife was having an affair and our subsequent split, I got really depressed, and it pushed me to do something terrible. On two separate occasions, I downed a fifth of a hard drink and played Russian roulette. Once, the bullet was only one chamber over. The other time, it was two away from the chamber. I got lucky.
I could just as easily not have been here to tell this story right now if the game had gone slightly different. I never told anyone about this experience. I was already getting tons of sympathy and I hated it. I hate when people feel sorry for me, so I never told anyone about how far I had sunk and how close I came to ending it all.
For clarification, this was back in 2014, so people don’t need to worry about me anymore. I’m stable and moving on with my life now. I saw a shrink for a time and it helped a ton. That and exercise. Best solutions I know for conquering depression. If I can come back from that, anyone can come back from anything. Never give up. Fight until you're exhausted, and then fight a little more.
No matter who you are or what has happened to you, somebody somewhere loves you.
I get 21 days of vacation from my company every year. My secret is that I split it up by going to Thailand once every few months to sleep specifically with ladyboys.
My secret is that I once got a wooden ball stuck in my butt for an entire day. Don’t ask why I was putting it up there in the first place! I couldn’t get it out, so I had to go to school and stuff for the entire day with the ball just sitting there. I was terrified that it was gonna be stuck in there forever and that a doctor would have to get it out.
My secret is that I sneeze when I'm turned on. My other secret is that I'm always turned on. So yes, as you can infer, I sneeze all the time. And no one knows the real reason. Everyone in my life thinks that I just have some pretty bad allergies. But in reality, I'm thinking about sleeping with half the guys in the room at any given time…
I don't tell people I'm autistic in person until I've known them for at least multiple years and grown to trust them. Sometimes, by the time I tell them, they're already like, "Yeah, no offense, but I've known for pretty much the whole time I knew you!" As funny as that sounds, I still am very serious about keeping this part of myself a secret from almost everyone I know.
My secret is that literally the only thing keeping me alive is that I don't want my children to grow up without a father. If anything happens to them, consider me a goner.
My secret is that I'm about to put a firm deadline on my relationship with the man I love. I’m going to tell him in no uncertain terms that if he doesn’t fix up his life by that deadline then I'm leaving him. And when I say I’m about to do this, I really mean I’m about to do this. I'm going to have this conversation with him in five minutes. Wish me luck.
My secret is that I was unintentionally very high at work the other day. I’m new to partying, so I’m not sure how these things work. I turned 21 on Sunday, and so I obviously went out and drank far more than I should have. When I woke up the next morning, I went into work with possibly the largest migraine that I’ve ever had in my life.
A few hours went by and, finally, I broke and asked a coworker who’s known to have anxiety and depression if she had any medication that I could take so I could at least do my job. Well, I’m not sure what kind of pills she gave me, but they definitely weren’t what I was expecting. Once I asked, she just said that they help with migraines.
So I took them. There were three identical pills made of powder and they had numbers with a dash between them. Anyway, I take them and, for a little, I don’t feel anything. And then I just start feeling odd. I’m like “Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have taken all three.” But at least the headache is gone, so I just shrug it off. Then things took a serious turn.
Twenty minutes later, all I can do is scroll through Reddit. And I’m on cloud nine. I was reading The Shining before but I had to stop because I realized that I had read the same page more than ten times in a row. But then things kind of went downhill. I haven’t been back at work since Monday because I was randomly tested for substances two and a half hours later. They didn’t find anything, but have decided to suspend me for a week and a half for the suspicion that I used something.
I guess they could tell from my behavior that something wasn’t right. I don’t plan on telling anyone about this whole embarrassing saga.
My mom and her boyfriend abused me and my two younger siblings when we were very young. I was the oldest. I was five at the time of my brother's first birthday, when I noticed something wasn't right. But at five, I didn't really understand what was going on, and I thought their treatment was normal. Until one day, a few days after my brother's birthday, when my mom told me that my brother was "sick" and that he needed to go to the hospital.
I didn't think much about it and said my goodbyes as my mom dropped me off at my aunt’s house on the way to the hospital. I arrived at my aunt's house. She gave me a bath, and me and my cousins played and watched television until it turned dark. Then something went wrong. We heard a knock on the door. I heard, and started after the door, thinking my mom was here with my baby brother.
I was thinking he was okay and everything was fine. My aunt opened the door, and started to cry. I tried to piece it all together before I realized there were two tall men at the door. Officers. They picked me up and told me I had to go away. I remember screaming for my aunt, and I didn't get to say goodbye. At the time, I didn't understand what was happening at all.
I even thought maybe they were picking me up and taking me to my mother. We arrive at a place I cannot remember much about, where they fed me and took care of me that night until the sun came up. After I had woken up, it was off to another location. They were taking me to a foster home. I was living with a large family I didn't know, and it was all too scary for me.
I stayed there for a few weeks until I was moved somewhere else. There I waited in a room when I spotted people I knew. My grandparents and my sister. But my brother wasn't there. I began to worry that he was still sick. I got so excited still, and even more so learning that they were taking me home. That's when they began to explain to me where I was and why all of this had happened.
Apparently, all the mistreatment and neglect had been too much for my brother. He wasn't sick. He was dying. And the reason why I was taken away was simply that my mother and her boyfriend were being charged for what they did to us. Their mistreatment was too much, and my brother didn't make it. All this didn't really phase me at the time, since I was still just a child.
But many years later, I started to blame myself for not being able to do anything about it, even though I was so young and I couldn't possibly have done so. Every year, on his birthday, I go to where he was buried and put a flower on his grave. My aunt told me he loved yellow, so I always make sure to get yellow flowers, and maybe a small toy I think he would've liked.
And sometimes I wonder if he's up there, looking down on me, and likes the fact that I still visit him every year.
My secret is that the only thing that has stopped me from taking my life so far is the reminder that my student loans would just get passed on to my parents if I did. And I don't want to inflict my endless bills and financial burdens onto them or my little brother. That is literally my only reason for living at this point, despite appearing outwardly to be a happy person.
My secret is that I've been offered a threesome with my mate and his girlfriend. And my second secret is that I’m thinking of taking him up on it…
My secret is that I don't really enjoy living anymore. I'm just going through the motions at this point. It wouldn’t bother me one bit if I found out that my life would be coming to an end this very day.
My secret is that I was taken advantage of by an adult when I was only about six years old. But I'm a guy, so I don't tell anyone because I’m embarrassed about it and afraid of seeming weak. I told a therapist about it once, and she was like, "How do you know?" Seriously, lady?? Like, honestly, don't freaking ask me if I know what freaking happened to me! I think I do, last time I checked!
My secret is that I'm a well-adjusted, normal adult female and I still play with stuffed animals. Practically every single night. I just love getting that sweet nostalgia feeling, and nothing else quite does it for me like hugging a stuffed animal. I know it sounds silly and immature, but that’s what I do. And it’s probably the biggest secret that I have.
My secret is that my fiancee is the only person that I actually enjoy being around. I don't really say that out loud because it puts unfair pressure on her and exposes my antisocial tendencies. I wasn't always this way. It kind of happened over the past six or seven years after a deep depression and a struggle with substance use.
I've been happy and substance-free for several years, but I haven't been the same. When I make myself hang out with friends, I generally sit there thinking about how long I should stay before I can duck out and go home without looking like a jerk. It’s hard for me to have conversations with people because I just think things like: "When are they going to leave me alone?" or "When can I leave?"
I'm pretty good at hiding it and have several people who consider me to be their friends, but I secretly get no enjoyment out of those relationships. I'm not sure why my fiancee is different, but it makes me very afraid of losing her. I'm almost positive I won't find anyone else who I will be able to love like I do her.
There have been a few months here and there in the past where we split up and I went out on dates with several other women. Some of them were very pretty and very nice, but I absolutely hated the entire process and never followed through on subsequent dates. I wish I could change that about myself, but I don't know how.
I am a leader at my church. I volunteer, so I’m not paid or making a career of it. I used to even teach Sunday school, and I still occasionally fill in if someone is sick. I went to a Christian college for a bit. I minored in New Testament Greek. I married a Christian girl. I have several kids who are currently growing up in our church.
But my secret is that I can no longer bring myself to honestly believe in God. I wish I could, but it just doesn't make any sense. I only maintain the illusion of keeping the faith because it would cause a lot of heartbreak to people who I really care about if they knew. It's like I lost a friend who I had for 34 years, who I was super close to, who was always there for me, who knew me better than anyone else.
But I can't mourn this loss, because my family and close friends still believe this friend is alive. And if I tell them I don't believe, they'll feel like they lost me.
My secret is that I'm the reason my cousin is mentally handicapped. We are both the same age, and when we were seven years old our grandpa bought dirt bikes for us. Well, we decided to make our own trail out in the woods, and it took the entire summer. One day, while riding on this trail with my cousin, I purposely put this tree branch at roughly head level in a spot that he was about to pass through.
I did this just so he could duck under it, thinking it would look awesome. The branch was heavy, but I was able to sit it conveniently between two trees. He was braver than me, so he went first. Being dumb kids, we didn't wear helmets. I yelled for him to duck, but he didn't. He hit his head on the branch, got knocked backward, and hit his head again straight into the ground.
I told everyone that it was an accident. Grandpa sold the dirt bikes, and I didn't see my cousin a whole lot after that. That was nearly 25 years ago. I now see him every Christmas, and it's always the same. In a wheelchair, being spoon-fed by his mom. He can't speak. He likes to draw funny shapes. He most likely doesn't remember the incident, and I don't even know if he remembers me.
But that's what haunts me.
I once ate a huge sub at Subway. On my way out, I let out some massive gas from my butt. I then drove to a gas station and got out of my car. Some old lady quickly parks her car behind me. She angrily slams her car door, comes up to my face, and starts screaming, "Just who do you think you are? Passing gas in my face like that! You’re lucky I didn't call the authorities on you!"
She writes down my license plate number and drives off fast. I stood there confused for like five minutes until I realized that she must have been standing behind me in the doorway when I was leaving Subway. So yea, I guess I accidentally passed gas in some old lady’s face. And I have never told anyone about it.
Well, my wife knows this now, but I wouldn’t tell another soul. A few years ago, me and my wife moved into her parents’ place to save some money, so we were adjusting to living with parents again. It was strange and uncomfortable enough to begin with—then my worst nightmare came true. I woke up under the weather one morning and it felt like the world was about to fall out of my butt.
I went to open the bedroom door and could hear my father-in-law getting ready to head out for work. I'm panicking thinking “Uh oh, I know this is gonna be bad. I'm not gonna go take this mega dump so early on into our time living here. I need to devise a plan.” So I stayed in the bedroom, emptied out the little bin we had in the corner, and pooped into the bag that was placed in there.
I then wiped my butt with some tissues that happened to be on the side, before standing up and tying a knot in the bag. Now I'm getting ready for work with this bag of poop by my feet. My next stage is to get rid of this thing. I can't do it in any of the bins here, so I think, “I know! I’ll take it out and find the nearest public garbage can I can see.”
I head outside and start looking for a garbage can. I even weigh the possibility of dumping this bag of poop at a neighbor’s place if nobody is around. In the end, I walked for about fifteen minutes, all the way to work, with a bag of my own poop in the pocket of my hoody until I could finally find a public garbage bin to throw it into. And I’ve kept it a secret ever since.
My secret is that about ten years ago, I lent one of my best friends 20 bucks, knowing that he would probably buy illicit substances with it. I lent him the money because I did not want to deal with his whining if I held out or tried to refuse. I knew that what I was doing was enabling his dangerous habit. That day, he passed from an overdose just three hours after I lent him the money...
My secret is that I own a five-foot-tall adult doll while living with two grandmas and my mom. It was interesting ordering the doll and getting this big box weighing eighty pounds into the house with no one noticing. I sat outside waiting for UPS to arrive just so that no doorbell would be rung. I then had to go through the front door, through the hallway, and then into my room.
Somehow, I did it with no one seeing. After owning the doll for about a week, I realized that it was really hard trying to keep it clean with people around. So I started strategizing clean-up times in the bathroom. One time, I had it in the bathtub to clean it up, so I took a shower so that no one would question what I was doing in there.
Then, to my horror, I opened the bathroom door to see my grandma waiting to use it. She went in to use the toilet while the doll was still sitting behind the curtains in the shower. I just had to pray that she didn't open the shower curtains while doing her business. And I got lucky. She didn't. Then, a few months go by, and some family needs to move in with us.
I was told that I would now share my room with my brother and his girlfriend temporarily. So I hide the doll in a big enough box, deep inside my closest. To this day, no one has spotted it. No one knows I have this life-sized doll. And I would prefer to keep it that way!
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