January 31, 2022 | Eul Basa

These True Confessions Are Ice Cold


The truth can really hurt, especially when it hits unexpectedly. When dark or disturbing secrets are revealed at times when you aren't prepared to receive them, it can turn your whole world upside-down in an instant. Here are some of the coldest true confessions ever:


1. Didn’t See Anything

I was walking my dog on a dirt road next to my subdivision. This dirt road ran parallel to several backyards and had lots of trees on either side for concealment. For me, it was an unofficial nature trail because it allowed me to get away from people. One morning I spotted two of my neighbors, who were married to other people, making out and obviously about to do the deed.

Since they were so into each other they didn't hear me coming up till my dog started making noise. For several seconds, we all looked at each other without saying anything until the couple took off running in the direction of their respective backyards. We all knew each other but I wasn't friends with the two nor their spouses.

Long story short, I kept my mouth shut about what I saw and neither of the lovebirds ever said anything to me. Have no idea if this had been a one-time thing or a long-term affair.

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2. Guardian Angel

A family member assaulted me until I was 13 and I moved in with my aunt. She's a good person who took me in and helped me get away from the bad people in my family. When we found out I was pregnant, she guessed how it happened. I hadn't told her about what had happened but she said she always expected it but never had proof. She came up with a way to get me away.

She pretended to get pregnant and asked my parents if she could get custody so I could move in with her, get homeschooled, and help her out. They said no at first because they knew they'd lose out on food stamps, so she offered to pay them whatever they would've gotten in food stamps in cash in exchange for me living there. They said yeah once they found out cash was involved, and my aunt gave them some extra cash every month to keep them out of our lives.

My parents are your regular redneck junkies who are no good to anyone. I had the kid in 1988 and have seen my parents a handful of times since then. My aunt went to court to get custody of me and said my parents dropped me off at her house one day and never picked me up. I went along with that story in court and it worked out. I said we went back to my house day after day, but they were never home.

They were ordered to come to court but never showed up. She got full custody of me and I lived with her until I was able to get myself a good job. I don't work the best job in the world, but it's better than where I came from and I'm proud of that. Anywho, she took me to get an abortion, but it was too late by our state's laws. She pretended to be pregnant, even tried to gain weight, and bought clothes that made her look bigger.

I stayed home every day until I had the baby. So now, everyone thinks it's her kid. I don't feel bad about it and won't ever tell the kid unless my aunt wants to or some big emergency happens where he needs a body part. She always said it's my choice to tell, but I think it's her choice too. She raised him, he calls her mama, and I wouldn't want to take that away from them.

He doesn't look like me at all. He doesn't really look like my aunt, either. He thinks his daddy is some guy she met at a bar who she had a one-night stand with and she doesn't know who he was. He's an adult now and is settling down with his wife and they're thinking about having kids. It's sometimes weird because I know if they do, they'll be my grandkids but they'll never know.

I don't feel like a parent to him at all. I know he's my biological kid, but I'm not his mama. Every now and then it makes me sad, but I know it was the right decision to make. He's had a good life. My aunt and I saved up to make sure he could get a good education, and he did that. He knows me as his older cousin and we get along well. He's a good guy.

Hardworking, a good person, does what he can to help others. I'm proud of him. I know DNA tests exist. I don't know if he'll get one done, but we'll talk about what to do if he ever does.

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3. You’re Not Welcome Here

My mother was battling stage four cancer when I was 11 years old. While she was in hospice at home, her mother-in-law was standing by the bed. She woke up, heavily medicated, pointed at her, and said, "What are you doing here, I never liked you."

Deathbed Confessions facts Shutterstock

4. Saved A Life

I lost a baby at 24 weeks. She was a premature baby. She lived for four hours and twenty-one minutes. She was all planned and wanted but I'm glad she didn't live because if she did, I might have to live a life alongside her father who used to beat me. She would’ve been ten now. And I wonder if my life would be so much more different if she lived.

And how hard my life would have been if the father stayed in my life too. There was a major earthquake that occured, and at that time the initial impact of said earthquake thrust me in the air, making me land on my belly. I broke my water too soon at just shy of twenty-one weeks and a few weeks later I gave birth. Her passing is one of great pain to me. But now, I am thankful for it.

I'm a terrible person because I'm thankful. It's not something I would admit to anyone I know in person. That's my secret and dirty shame.

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5. Ring My Bell

My ex used to use a specific shampoo, and over time I noticed that every time I smelled this shampoo on other people, I automatically thought of her and this got me planning. For my current girlfriend, every time we got down to business, I put on a cologne that I saved specifically for those times. No matter how spontaneous the action was, I found the time to put on a puff or two of this perfume secretly and then continue.

After we’d been going out for couple months, I began to do tests. I put this perfume on when casually walking in the kitchen past her, and just sit down in the living room. Soon enough, after couple minutes she’d go there and initiate sexy times. Now I use it occasionally—I’m very careful not to overuse it so it doesn’t spoil the effect—when I want to get her going, and it works well enough.

My favorite is putting it on before going out to a public place, and watching her get super worked up and unload at home. Yes, I’ve Pavlov’ed my girlfriend.

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6. The Prankster

As my mother lay in her hospice bed dying of cancer she beckoned me closer to her and said, "I've hidden the money...I've hidden the money in the..." she was having trouble speaking and her voice was cracking. She tried one last time "The money's in the..." her eyes closed, her breath stopped and her head slumped to one side. A few seconds later she burst out laughing. She was pranking me.

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7.  No Privacy

When I was 14 or 15, I would listen to music and just imagine I was a character in one of the shows I would watch like Teen Titans, Totally Spies, or Hamtaro. The day I tried to listen to music and imagine like this stupid crossover between them and jump around my room, my brother had actually heard my jumping around from previous days and hid in my closet.

He observed all the stupid stuff I did and the mixture of shows combined because I would whisper quips from the characters. When I discovered him, I instantly reacted by trying to choke the living daylights out of him. But instead of being scared, he just laughed his butt off the entire time! Only he and I ever knew and I’ve been embarrassed by it ever since it happened.

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8. Stepping Up

I'm 19 and a guy. My mom married my stepdad when I was 14 and we've always gotten along. My dad passed when I was 11, and to be honest, I'm still working through the relationship we had. I've always had this fantasy that he was an amazing dad but he wasn’t. He made me fight a 13-year-old when I was 10. When I said I was scared, he told me I was being a wimp.

When I didn't win he was disappointed in me. When my mom married my stepdad, we kept to ourselves at first but he's honestly twice the man my dad was. It's hard to say that but it's true. The one thing he said to me before he married my mom was that he'd never hurt us and always protect us. It's been five years and he's kept his promise.

He's always been amazing to my mom and me, and I admit that he spoils me sometimes. He'll take care of my chores for me and gets me whatever I want even if I don't ask him for it. If he hears me talking about something, he'll just get it for me. He always asks if I have enough money and if I don't, he'll transfer money into my checking account.

We don't really talk about personal stuff but he's always said I can talk to him about anything whenever I feel like it. But everything changed today. We were at the store and some older guy accused me of giving him a dirty look while we were in the parking lot. I didn't know what he was talking about and told him I didn't even look at him, but the guy shoved me to the ground.

My stepdad jumped in so fast that I didn't even see what happened. I heard him hit the guy, and when I got up the jerk was on the ground looking scared and holding his nose. My stepdad was shouting at him in a scary voice: "You don't ever put your hands on him." He helped me up and the guy got back in his car and sped away.

After that, he didn't want me to leave his sight in the store. The whole way home he kept apologizing that he didn't step in earlier and telling me he never wanted me to see him fight. I've never even seen him get mad or raise his voice. It was scary but it also made me feel so weird. I can't explain it, but it feels like I finally know how much he loves me.

We never say it to each other but I always knew how he feels. When we got home I told him I love him for the first time and he gave me the hardest hug I've ever had and I almost started crying.

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9. Priorities

My grandfather was on his deathbed and it was obvious he was nearing the end. He motioned my mother over to tell her something. She went over, leaned in close, expecting some declaration of his love for her or something deeply insightful. He said, "The good family silverware is hidden in the ventilation system about 15 feet out from the furnace."

She looked at him like he was crazy. He said, "What!! We travel a lot and that's where I hid it. That stuff's expensive!"

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10. Who Did It?

I visited my mother’s hometown in Mexico during the summer with her and my younger sister. This was the week after the plane crash in Durango happened and we were heading there for a bit so I got super anxious and it kept me up a couple of days after we got there along with the time difference. We stayed at our great uncle’s house and I was sleeping on the futon on the ground while my sister and mom shared the bed.

My anxiety and difficulty adjusting to the time difference meant that I was up pretty late at night. I was just on my phone playing some mobile games when I heard a shot. I live in a dangerous neighborhood back home so I was used to hearing this kind of stuff. Then two more shots. This time it was closer. No one else woke up and I was just lying there thinking someone must be wasted and I should try to get some sleep because it could also be a hallucination.

The next morning, my mom asked me if I was up last night. When I told her that I was, she asked if I'd heard anything. I let her know that I heard some gunshots but I didn’t think about it much. Her face went pale. Apparently, the neighbor two houses down had shot his wife the night I was up. It was a small town so everyone knew and he was quickly put behind bars. She had been shot at least twice.

I asked if anyone else was hurt last night, but she told me that it was just the woman who was shot. The town was close to the city and they were strict about their weapon control. So I should be happy that I know about what caused those two loud shots, right? Well, I think a lot about that first shot. The man was the only one reported shooting that night.

The first shot to my knowledge was more likely from a handgun. Who was that first person? Did the wife conceal her own weapon and shoot in self defense? Was it an intoxicated guy like I initially thought it was? Did someone else pass away that night but no one else knew about it? I think I was the only one who heard that first shot since everyone else was only talking about those two loud ones.

I tried asking to see if they heard anything else but they didn’t. Everyone knows each other like family in this town so surely they knew who did what. But even they didn’t know that the neighbor was capable of doing this. I’m not sure I want to know who fired that first shot.

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11. Mommie Dearest

I grew up loving my mother dearly, as most sons do. She was protective, kind, beautiful, successful, and smart, and was someone I strove to be like when I was young. However, I wasn’t seeing the real side of her. The one that is at her core. Within the past three years, I have come to despise her. She is selfish, manipulative, two-faced, and an overall bad human, which is a tough pill to swallow when I adored her for 25 years.

It’s weird how you don’t really know your parents until you become an adult. I just need to get this off my chest. So, my parents are in their late 50s. My dad is very successful and is an all-around good guy, great father to my sisters and I, and is a way better husband than my mom deserves. They’ve been together since they were in high school.

In their sophomore year, my mom literally pulled a girl out of his Jeep and got in because she wanted to be with him (red flag). He is more passive, and my mom is aggressive (obviously). Any honey-do list he got, he did it. Anything my mother wanted, she got. His brother and even I always gave him a hard time for being so whipped with her.

They went into over $90,000 in debt when I was 13 because my mom wanted a big house, Mercedes, and other stuff they couldn’t afford at the time. We went on expensive vacations that she planned, we ate at nice restaurants we couldn’t afford, and the only thing my dad ever stood his ground on was that he gets to deer hunt with the guys three weekends a year, which my mom still complained about being left out of.

She has always had to be the center of whatever he does in his life, no exceptions. But that isn’t what made me see her for who she was. It got even darker than that. Four years ago, my now wife and I were soon to be married. My mom suggested we all take a motorcycle trip one weekend with her old co-worker, we’ll call him James.

She explained he was going through a tough time with his ex-wife and needed to get away. We go and have a good time for a weekend, but it just felt weird. It was my mom, dad, my now wife, and James. The dynamic and overall vibe of being around my mom’s old friend was strange. He was a nice enough guy, he was tall, handsome, rich and brawny.

He had an ex-wife and two kids around my age, and he loved taking pictures of my mom and dad, which creeped me out. Anyways, nothing of importance happened on this trip, but my mom starts acting strange afterward and my dad and older sister are the ones who noticed it. At this time, I lived with my fiancée on the other side of the city, but my older sister was living with my parents.

One night, a few weeks after our motorcycle trip, my fiancée, sister, mom, and I went to a concert. My mom was acting weird, downing beers (this isn’t like her at all) and just being weird in general. It was like she was a whole different person all of a sudden. After being there for 10 minutes, she said, “I’m going to grab a drink,” and gets up and disappears for an hour.

I went looking for her after she had been gone for 45 minutes as I was concerned for her safety. When I came back with no luck, I ask my sister if she’s been able to get a hold of her. She rolls her eyes and goes, “I didn’t bother calling, she’s probably calling James.” What the heck? My sister then reveals the truth. She tells me that she and dad suspect she is having an affair with him.

She goes on to explain how sketchy she has been acting, doing things like changing her phone and iPad password, stepping out for phone calls and whispering, even putting a jar of rocks on her phone while she slept so she would be woken up if anyone touched it. Weird. My dad managed to look in her phone before she changed her password and quickly skimmed through her texts with James.

He saw some suspicious and cryptic dialogue. Anyway, my mom finally gets back to us at the concert and at this point, I am angry and devastated all at once. I ask her what took so long and she says, “Oh I ran into some old friends from my old job ” Immediately sensing the lie, I ask who. She didn’t expect this follow-up question, but slyly responds with, “You don’t know them.”

I then ask, “Well, what are their names?” She’s feeling the pressure and stutters before managing to make up some fake names. My wife and sister are listening to my interrogation very intently. I get sick of her, though, and drop it. I am livid and crushed and thinking of my dad. My sister had already gotten to the point of disgust I was at, so she didn’t say anything and we all kind of ignored it…until the next day.

After this concert incident, my sister tells my dad what happened, and he finally approaches my mom about everything. He demanded to see her call history and sees a 45-minute call to James at the time of the concert, along with many others. He demands to know what is going on, and she says he is just going through a hard time with his ex, who is apparently debilitated from alcoholism, and she was just helping him get through it as a friend.

Basically, the sketchiness goes on for months, and at the time of my wedding, my dad has a tracker in her goddarn car, has requested call logs from the phone company, and is looking at hiring a private investigator. I still remember dancing with her at my wedding; she looked at me adoringly and I couldn't look back at her. Little did my dad or I know, me and my love for my kayaking would soon give him everything he needed.

A month or so after my wedding, I go to stay with my old college roommate for a weekend of kayaking and fishing. He lived by my grandparents’ lake house (my mom’s parents) and I was going to pick up my kayak from their house that day. My dad randomly calls me just to say hi and probably tell me about whatever sketchy stuff my mom had been up to.

Though this is probably not healthy, he is my best friend, and this had been our conversations lately. I tell him that I’m headed to the lake house and he responds, “I doubt she would be this bold, but your mom said she was at the lake house with her girlfriends this weekend and I want you to be prepared if that isn’t the case. If it isn’t, let me know.”

I knew what he meant. I didn’t give my mom a heads up that I was coming on purpose and as I drive up, I’m relieved to see just her car and another girly-looking car in the driveway. I call my dad before going in and tell him my initial assessment is that nothing sketchy is going on from what I see, just looks like her and her friends are here.

He’s as relieved I am. I walk up, knock on the door, and it’s silent. The back-patio door is unlocked so I walk in. The first thing I see ruins me. It’s a leather motorcycle jacket hanging on one of the barstools and I immediately recognize it as James’s. My heart starts pounding and my adrenaline is pumping as my vision gets all weird and my ears start burning.

A million questions went through my head in a second, like “Are they here?” and “Do they know I’m here?” and “Should I announce myself?” I act fast, assuming they aren’t there but could be pulling up any minute. I take a picture of the jacket, I go to the garage and sure enough, James’s motorcycle is there. I take a picture of that and then run back in and see cell phones stacked where they are charging in the kitchen.

I grab a phone I don’t recognize. It didn’t have a lock on it, so I immediately go to the pictures…the first one is of two people I don’t recognize, as well as my mom and James…and they’re kissing each other on the lips. I scroll a little and more of the same. My heart is pumping out of my chest at this point and I take a few quick pictures of the photos in the phone and run out of the house, not even remembering or caring what I had originally been there for.

Something I should add here: When I was seven, my mom left my dad for a doctor, who just wanted to use her and drop her like a bad habit, and my dad reluctantly took her back after she begged and pleaded. She blamed the doctor at the time. My dad later told me that at the time, he told himself he was doing it for the kids and had planned on leaving her after we graduated high school, but they did so well in between then and our graduations that he eventually forgave her and was happy in their relationship.

I remember them being separated, but I didn’t know the details until recently. Okay so anyways, I peel out of the driveway at the lake house, and drive to a secluded street in the neighborhood as I try and figure out what to do. I let my heart rate slow a bit, so I could think more clearly, and then called my little sister, trying to decide if I tell my dad and if so, how.

Up to this point, everyone just had their suspicions with no solid proof. My little sister, who is the sweetheart of the family, agrees that I needed to call dad and tell him immediately because he deserves to know, despite how bad it will hurt him. I then called my wife and she agreed but we were both worried about what he would do.

I hesitate for a bit but eventually I call my dad to tell him his wife of 25 years is cheating on him. When he answers, I just blurt it out: “James is here, I have proof, and mom is cheating on you.” I didn’t know how to put it delicately, so I just gave him the facts. He was in shock like me. He kept saying the same phrase over and over: “No way…”

After the initial shock wears off, he apologizes that I had to be the one to see it and then says he’s on his way (it’s a three-hour drive) and that he will meet up with me at my roommate’s. I immediately call my uncle (my dad’s identical twin and my other best friend) and tell him what’s going on. I tell him I’m afraid my dad is going to do something stupid.

He said he’ll make sure he doesn't. They end up coming down together and meet me at my roommate’s house. We talk for a couple hours and come up with a plan. They switch trucks with my roommate to go incognito because he must see it for himself. My dad promises he won't do anything stupid despite what he may see. He sneaks up there after dark, parks far away, and walks a mile through the woods with his brother and a pair of binoculars.

He hides behind some trees when he got in place and sees them on the patio with another couple drinking. They’re cuddling and kissing like they’re an old married couple and like what they are doing is not beyond messed up. It took every ounce of self-control for my dad not to run over there and go insane on them. Instead, he did the smart thing thankfully and just took pictures of them and left. Then he reaped his revenge.

The next morning, he cleared out their bank account, sent her the pictures he and I took along with a text that said, “I know everything, I’m leaving you.” I can only imagine what their reaction was like. Rest assured that the rest of their little getaway was quite stressful. The next year was a nightmare for everyone and my mom’s reaction to this solidified my disdain for her.

She dragged everyone into her nightmare and made our lives horrible. My dad and I caught her red-handed. He just wanted her to go to James and let him live in peace, but instead, she dropped James and begged my dad to take her back. My dad agreed to pay her alimony if she granted him a divorce without lawyers that would’ve drained them both financially.

She reluctantly agreed. After the divorce, my mom cried every day for a year. She moved in with my little sister in an apartment she couldn’t afford. She got on anti-depressants and went into a downward spiral that, because we loved her no matter what, took us all with her. All the lies she had told for a year began to surface more and more.

Thinking back on that motorcycle trip where I spent a weekend with this jerk made my stomach turn. I even bought that rich guy drinks. Though I despised who she was and what she had done, I was still very concerned for my mom and would listen to her sob on the phone and in front of me. She cried to my wife a lot too, which I hated.

This was my wife's first year in the family and my mom was calling her, bawling about how cruel my dad was being to her. My mom blamed my dad’s twin brother for almost everything, saying he had taken him away from her on all our “guy hunting trips,” and he was the reason their marriage fell apart. She was truly manic. My mom’s parents and brother were disgusted with her because they loved my dad so much and they refused to talk to her about it.

So my wife, sisters, dad, and I were the ones who got the brunt of it. She tried manipulating everyone to make us think she was the victim here. It made me sick. She tried to make it seem like she was the battered wife and my dad had treated her badly. We all knew the truth and I found myself despising her more and more as a person.

My dad on the other hand went full-blown frat boy with his newly found freedom. He’s a handsome guy with money, and though my mom’s reaction was taking a toll on him in every way, he distracted himself by getting on Bumble and banging a bunch of 30-40-something year-old women, hunted every weekend, and went on Harley rides during the week to escape it all.

My mom still doesn’t know about the women and honestly, after being with the same woman for 30 years, being cheated on twice, and having every aspect of his life controlled, he deserved it and needed to get it out of his system. Anyways, getting us more towards the present, my wife and I became pregnant with our first child and the joy of it was completely overshadowed by my mom’s constant meltdowns.

I couldn't even get them in the same room to tell all my family that they were going to have a new niece/granddaughter. For 10 months, she relentlessly berated my dad for not being able to forgive her and used my unborn child (their first grandchild) as a pawn to get him back. She told him that it would be his fault if their grandchild grew up with divorced grandparents.

It made my blood boil. After a while, and against me and my sister’s encouragement for my dad to stay strong, my dad caved and slowly started to get back with her. They sold their house and now live together in a townhome. My daughter is 17 months old now and my parents have fallen back into their relationship of my mom dominating his life, despite him trying to set strong ground rules this time.

It’s been like when a villain gets their powers back after losing them. She went from weak and broken to manipulating everyone to her will like she has always done. My wife is shy, caring, and always worried to offend my family in any way, and my mom uses this to try and boss her around when it comes to our daughter until I step in.

She'll constantly play the guilt card about how my wife's parents see our daughter more when they live four hours away. Uhhh yeah you psycho, they're good people. When I talk to my mom now, there is never love in my voice. I don’t want to hate her, but her flaws are so apparent. She’s a sociopath who has to be in control of everyone.

We all love her despite this, but I am the only one who calls her out on it. My older sister barely speaks to her. My daughter is obsessed with her and it makes me happy and furious at the same time. My mom doesn’t deserve my dad, and she doesn’t deserve our forgiveness, especially since this is twice now (that we know about) that she cheated on my dad.

Not sure how to end this. Just wish my mom wasn’t such an awful person. I guess I’m thankful these events and my realization didn’t happen sooner, otherwise I wouldn’t know that there are good women out there and instead I’d probably have a very hard time trusting them. Thank god for my wife, too, who is an incredible woman.

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12. Can’t Fool Me

In my mom’s last 15-20 years, things went downhill emotionally and mentally for her and she had built a fictional version of her own history that she shared with neighbors, church friends, and co-workers. She wanted to control the image they all had of her. Things had been tense between us for years, but when she got sick, I helped her.

I spent an entire week living at the hospice facility in her room with her because I didn't want her to be alone, and she had literally timed her calls to her sister, who hadn't spoken to us in decades, and her attorney, hoping to avoid any big revelations until after she deceased so she could "win." But some of the stuff she did to me was just cruel. I didn't find out about all of it before her demise, but I caught her egging her sister on to harass me through text messages when she could barely speak. I confronted her and cleared things up with her sister.

Her co-workers came in and fawned over her and told me what a saint she was, and how wonderful and patient she was with the younger nurses. The day after I had busted my mom for lying about ten different things, her boss came in and introduced herself and I told her I had heard a lot about her. She got this look on her face and I realized that my mom had professed to hating her so much because she wasn't fooled.

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13. Missing Notebook

About a week before I graduated high school my family had a massive house fire. We lived out in the country and no one was home so, by the time anyone noticed the house was on fire it was way too far gone. Thirty feet long flames above the roof. We lost everything else in the fire but had insurance and no one got hurt.

I was in a chemistry class at the time that had 70% of the grade centered around a lab notebook that was graded all at once at the end of the semester. You would do labs every week, and then do lab write-ups in the notebook. I had been slacking off and was way behind on the assignment and would have had to pull a few all-nighters just to turn something in.

The day after the fire, I went into class and told my teacher a massive lie—that the notebook had gone up in the fire and that I had no idea how I would ever turn the assignment in. He was extremely nice about it, told me not to worry, and gave me 100% on the whole assignment. He just said that I had bigger things to worry about and was about to graduate and that he hoped my family was doing ok.

Well, the notebook was in my car the entire time. I immediately threw it away and swore myself to secrecy.

Chilling Confessions factsWikimedia Commons

14. What Goes Around Comes Around

I put my divorced parents who hate each other in the same nursing home. Yep, karma is a witch mom and dad. Thanks for always putting me in the middle of your drama as a kid. So sad that you two found it amusing to act like children while forcing me into being the adult. Well, now the tables have turned. You're both old and in need of someone to take care of you.

Obviously this wasn’t going to be me. Hope you two enjoy seeing each other for the rest of your miserable lives and you can figure it out. Waiting to get the phone call of "Did you know your mother/father is in the same nursing home?!" Ah, I'm gonna sit back now and enjoy my cold one.

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15. Long Lost Brother

I met a lady on a train to Edinburgh who was really nervous because she was on the way to meet her brother for the first time in 70 years. Her parents had told her that he perished when he was one, but they'd given him away because they couldn't afford so many kids. She didn't find out he was still alive until her mother confessed it on her deathbed.

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16. Caution Wet Floor

When I was about seven years old my dad took me to Blockbuster and I really had to pee. Blockbuster didn’t have a restroom, and in a moment of utter panic, I did the most embarrassing thing imaginable: I peed in one of the aisles. I’m pretty sure the cameras saw me, but thankfully,  there was no one near me. Taking that one to my grave.

Quentin Tarantino factsWikimedia Commons

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17. Forever Home

I've been a foster dad to my son since he was five, and he is now nine. He's been through a lot and has made significant progress. I am so proud of him. I've been trying to officially adopt him and have spent over $30,000 over the last two years to make it happen. He has no idea. The social worker came by to visit and I told him it was to see how he was doing, but he was worried that I might be getting rid of him so he's been very anxious and clingy.

I've been a bit emotional too. I am getting the paperwork all signed and sealed by my lawyer this Thursday. I want to surprise him by showing him that he is officially my son, although he always was and will be. I thought about surprising him with the news at his favorite restaurant this Saturday with his aunt and uncle and cousins. Keeping this secret is harder than the actual adoption.

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18. Not to The Taste

Me and all of my cousins were gathered around my grandfather's hospice bed as he lay dying. Each and every one of my cousins gave him a kiss and tried to talk to him/said they loved him, etc. But he wouldn't respond to any of them, just started. Until I came up. I sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand. Everyone was watching us.

He looked at me and said, "I don't like Mexican food." And that was it.

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19. That’s Nasty!

I peed in my dad's bottle of Bacardi. He drank from it every night and was a raging alcoholic when I was younger. Anytime he acted like an asshole, I'd have this small sense of satisfaction in the back of my mind that no matter what he said or did, he drank my pee. It's the best secret I have, and the best decision I ever made.

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20. Dad Knows All

We have 16-year-old twin boys who pummeled each other a few weeks ago. It took me and a neighbor to break them up. My wife was upset and stunned because they really don't fight. I told her it was because one didn't clean up after himself and it escalated from there. Teen boys, hormones, etc. I told her to forget about it and not to bring it up because they were ashamed.

She let it go and held onto the belief that her sons are sweet little angels, but I knew the real story. The truth is that they got into a fight because Twin A took Twin's B last condom and Twin's B's girlfriend didn't have a Plan B. So Twin B wasn't going to get laid and attacked Twin A. My wife thinks Twin B is a virgin because he has a baby face and told her so. But that’s not all.

Why did Twin A take the condom? To sleep with another boy. My wife thinks he's the one who is going to be a lothario because he has so many female friends.

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21. At Least She’s Supportive

Just before my aunt passed away, my older brother confessed to her that I was gay. She called me in and explained how our family has been through so much and that she was willing to totally accept me for who I am. I think that is great of her to be that open-minded. Except there was one huge problem: I'm not gay. She never believed me because my brother had "confessed" it.

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22. If Only They Understood

My mum does not like that I’m on medication to control my anxiety. She claims that it’s bad for my health and that it will cause more problems down the road. Whenever she brings it up I just tell her that the doctor wanted me to take them, and that I didn’t just walk into the doctors and be like, “I want to be on medication”.

While that is true, it’s not the whole truth. I have a history of suffering from panic attacks that lead to self harm and suicidal tendencies. The reason I’m on medication is to help control them and give me less incentive to hurt myself. She doesn’t know, and I have no plans on telling anyone in my family. This is a secret I will take to my grave.

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23. You Can’t Choose Your Family

I'm staying with my boyfriend’s family for a couple days at the moment. I like to consider myself a reasonable person and not a huge germaphobe, but I am having a mental breakdown in the bathroom right now. So when you’re sitting at the table with them, if you ask for more mashed potatoes or a refill on milk or whatever, they'll look around to see who has potatoes or milk left that they aren't going to finish AND DUMP IT IN YOUR PLATE OR HAND OVER THEIR CUP.

And if you say, "Oh, no thanks, I'd rather get my own," they insist it's "No problem at all." Then his grandma INSISTS you clear your plate and snaps at you to finish your milk. It's so disgusting aaaaaghhh. I have social anxiety. I came out to make myself a cup of coffee and grandma insisted I finish off her 1/3 cup. This is my worst nightmare.

Oh, and my idiot boyfriend insisted on washing my clothes before we head back and washed all of my bras, so now I get the joy of wearing a thin white tank top without a bra around his family or hiding in the bedroom the rest of the trip (or until they dry), but what the heck, dude. There was also a lot of other issues that exacerbated this situation, too.

For example, the shower and bathroom were disgusting, there's a lot of dust everywhere that irritated my asthma and allergies, and his father has disgusting table manners—like rip smelly farts type stuff. I told my boyfriend about it and he was very kind and understanding and said he would take care of it in the future. He's a good guy, and actually very clean and different from his family in that regard.

Anyways. If I see them again, I'm getting a hotel and eating before I go there.

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24. Gather The Stars

My aunt had cancer. She knew she was going to die and she knew it would probably be in less than a week. She couldn't eat and drinking was hard. She wanted to be sedated heavily and kept asleep permanently, essentially for the last few days because, "this whole dying thing sucks and I've had more than enough." So fair enough, a doctor is called up, a plan is made and carried out.

The last thing my aunt said before going under for the rest of her life was, "Ah, I see the stars, they're sweet and run carefree. Gather them up." And that's when she went under. She passed three days later. Nobody knows what she meant. But somehow, those last words fit her, so her husband got them tattooed on his chest, over his heart.

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25. Ruined Christmas

During Christmas last year, my mother got completely wasted. She had already prepared a lot of food but there was still food being made. My mom and I only have each other so it was just me and her. She had made a big thing of pork and asked if I would like to try it. I said yes, but she was so intoxicated that she couldn't even cut a piece off.

I was just 17 at the time and had little experience with drinking, so I didn't know how badly she was inebriated. Twenty minutes later she was trying to take the pork out of the oven and dropped it all on the floor. All the oil spilled out to coat the kitchen floor as well. So as she tried to clumsily recover the pork, she slipped and hit her head on the floor.

She wasn't knocked unconscious but she was dazed and confused. I had to clean up the food off the ground, clean the oil off my mother and carry her to bed. I then spent the rest of the night cleaning the kitchen and driving around my town looking for a place to eat on Christmas. I didn't find anything and had to go back home without eating anything.

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26. He Who Smelt It…

Someone had fried chicken delivered to my office for all to share. The smell was potent and delicious, filling the entire building. Shortly afterward I farted, one of those long warm ones, and it was also very potent. The smells mingled in a way that nature never intended. Needless to say, everyone was confused and upset. I saw someone gag into their hand and put down their chicken thigh, never picking it back up. Nobody knows it was me.

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27. Big Announcement

My grandfather was in the hospital in a pretty nasty state. He barely could speak, but he made it clear to us he had something to say. He had my mother get him a piece of paper and a pen. Thinking he has some important words to leave us with in case he doesn't have the chance later, my mom does just that. There's silence in the room as he scribbles something onto the paper, with my mother and her two siblings waiting in anticipation.

My grandfather finishes, and with a big smile turns the paper for us to see. "I've got a girlfriend," it read, as he pointed to Anna, a neighbor and friend of his. The goofball ended up pulling through and living several more years.

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28. For The Oopsies

When I was nine, my dad and I were reading Reader's Digest and found a magazine subscription card for a free case of Depends adult diapers. That's when we came up with a genius practical joke. We wrote my uncle's name and address down and put it in the mailbox. He got it a couple of weeks later and called everyone in the family to find out who it was.

We knew my uncle was fuming, so we kept it to ourselves. To this day, everyone suspects that it was my other uncle.

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29. Bless This Mess

I clean up my house every morning and come back to it trashed after work, and I couldn't be happier because of it. Don’t get me wrong, I hate cleaning the house, sometimes I enjoy getting in the groove to some music, but mostly it's just tedious and I don't get any help with it. But when my now wife and I first moved in together, she was going through a bout of depression, and for a few years I would go to bed with her, wake up and go to work, and come back home most days to her still sleeping.

If she was awake she had yet to leave the bed, with her only really being up when I was home. So every day, the living room was the same way it was the moment I left, sometimes going weeks being untouched, and it started to make me feel lonely because it was like I lived by myself all over again. As if nothing happens when I wasn't looking.

Growing up in a family of six, with many pets and a lot of stray acquaintances—my folks allow friends and family to bum off us when going through tough times as a sort of halfway home—there was never a dull moment in the house, for better or worse, which made it feel like it was home. After no small amount of therapy and constant love, care, and commitment, she's been slowly cracking through her depression with only occasional bad days.

Plus, we have recently had our lovely daughter join our life. We just moved to a new area and a new house. My wife plays with the kid in the living room, gets her changed in the child's bedroom, makes herself and the little one some food in the kitchen now that she's eating more solids, and our little one destroys whatever she can get her hands on.

Now I’m coming home to see my daughter crawling over mommy as they watch PBS, my wife laughing and playing, my house in a lovely mess of activity and life, and I couldn't be any happier. Well, if I could get a hand with the dishes, that'd be nice, but with such a big victory, I'm not going to complain too much just yet.

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30. Lies For All These Years

For years my grandma complained about how my grandpa cooked eggs. My mom would also tell me the story about how she would hold the eggs my grandpa made in her mouth and spit them out at school. When we were younger my grandpa would make us eggs if we slept over at their house and I thought they were fine. My grandma would never eat them though.

It was funny because my grandpa didn't care. My grandma got sick and was in and out of the hospital. She would tell the staff how much she didn't like my grandpa's cooking, especially the eggs. My aunt was the last person to visit her, I was supposed to see her that Friday. The night before her demise, my grandma admitted to actually liking my grandpa's eggs.

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31. One Man’s Trash Is Another Man’s Treasure

About 20 years ago I worked for a big publisher. They were upgrading all their tech and just dumping it in a skip. I asked a security guy if I could take some stuff from the skip and he said to help myself as it was all going to get crushed anyway. During a night shift, I filled up my car with beige G3/Quadra Apple Macs, keyboards, mice, and some 19” Formic screens.

Some of the Macs had QuarkXPress and Photoshop on them. I cleaned them up and sold the entire lot. I made enough to buy a G4 Quicksilver of my own which I still have today. I didn’t tell my co-workers, ex-wife, managers, or anyone else.

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32. You Get What You Give

My girlfriend and I got into an argument over our kids’ Christmas spending budget. We both have a kid from a previous relationship, her daughter and my son. We have an agreed budget of $1,000 for each kid, and we met that budget for both kids last week. Today, she tells me she wants to get her daughter a phone and wants to buy her an iPhone XS Max, easily putting her daughter close to $1,200 over our agreed Christmas budget.

We have a shared bank account, so it’s not quite the “it’s her daughter and her money so what’s the deal?” kind of thing. We argued for three days over the issue. We couldn’t afford to spend another $1,200 on my son to even out the budgets again at a ludicrous $2,200 each. My son would have never known if we spent extra money on her, but that’s not the point.

It’s unfair and in my opinion it’s favoritism. After another very heated argument over the issue, I walked over to the tree and grabbed her present, a MacBook Air that I purchased on my own credit card. I opened it in front of her, and then re-wrapped it and addressed it to my son. Now the budgets are mostly equal again, give or take $100...Merry Christmas, witch.

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33. She’s Here

My grandfather was dying of cancer. He was 90. Our entire family would sit with him in his own home, tending to him in shifts, making sure everyone had alone time with him and all made him feel needed and loved during his passing. Gramps would regularly point to a spot where no one was and say, "Hello, Hazel, they are all here again." And then smile. Or he'd say, "Yes, dear, that's Linda's little girl."

Hazel was his wife, my grandmother, who had deceased two decades prior. The chilling bit was that Grandpa would then turn to us and say, "Oh, I forget you can't see her."

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34. Hand-Me-Downs

My mom left me to be homeless while I was still in high school. She wanted to move out of state with her abusive new husband. When I finally got back in touch with them three years later, they gifted me one of his prized possessions—a car. It was kind of an olive branch? The problem was, as a 20 year old with a minimum wage job living in DC, I couldn’t afford to plate it, inspect it, get insurance, gas, or taxes on it.

Literally nothing. Still full of hatred for this man, I spitefully sold it to a coworker friend whose big family desperately needed it.  I sold it for probably 10% of what it was worth, and told my stepdad and mother that I got in an accident and it cost $400 to tow and my insurance only covered this. This is my biggest secret. It’s been 11 years now.

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35. A Hard Lesson To Learn

My son has autism, previously diagnosed as Asperger’s. We've done extensive therapy and intervention and for the most part, he is no different than any other kid his age, except he comes across as shy and a bit nerdy (saying that with love). The only issue we had at school was that he would become overwhelmed, panic, and run out of the classroom.

Of course that is not okay. We and the school decided to allow him to take quick breaks to decompress when he starts feeling overwhelmed. He has not had an "incident" since the third grade. He started the 6th-grade last year and it's hard for any kid, especially for an Aspie kid. We met with all of his teachers and reminded them that he has this accommodation in writing and he will likely need to use it since middle school is tough for an Aspie kid.

All but one of his teachers understood that and were supportive. His math teacher, however, is just a nasty witch. She's one of those teachers that should not be a teacher. By the way, we're not those crazy, in-your-face parents. We just want what's best for our son and work with his teachers to do so. We kept on reminding her, verbally and in writing, of his accommodations, especially as our son's anxiety started to grow around her.

Imagine my surprise when I get a call from his counselor telling me to pick my son up from school. Apparently, he had bolted from her classroom and ran out to the field. The principal and a counselor tried to escort him to the office and he refused unless they called me. It horrified me because I've seen videos of officers being called and tasering or hitting special needs kids.

When I got there, my son was very upset. It was like watching years of progress unravel. H started to feel overwhelmed in her class because she's so horrible. She turned on the heat too high and closed all the doors. He felt trapped and claustrophobic. When he asked for a break, she refused and told him to sit down or get detention.

That only fueled his anxiety more and he exploded. The school quickly accepted that the teacher handled the situation poorly. I requested that he switch classes and even threatened to get a lawyer for not following the accommodations that they are required by law to follow. That got their attention quickly. They did not send him back to her class; rather he went to another class until the matter was resolved.

The teacher did get into trouble and wanted to discuss it with us before pulling him out of her class. We met with her and she was just a nasty witch, as we had known all along. She accused our son of using his diagnosis as a crutch and said he needed to grow up. I wanted to slap her. Instead, I had much better idea. She went to take a phone call and I saw her keys on her desk.

I put them in my pocket. We finished our conversation and I politely thanked her for her time. Then I threw her keys in a dumpster and got my son pulled out of her class the next day. That made my day.

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36. Blessing in Disguise

My grandma confessed to my mom when she thought she was dying that she tried to coat hanger abort her. Obviously it was unsuccessful. My grandma was a religious woman, and decided that God wanted her to have this baby, and treated my mom like her favorite child. This messed my mom up for a while, and that wasn't even the worst part. It got 10 times more awkward when my grandma surprisingly got better.

After Grandma expired for real, my mom eventually made peace with it. After she was born, Grandma never treated her like she was unwanted, so mom understood she was in a vulnerable place at the time.

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37.  Hello, It’s Me

I can't exactly remember how old I was. It was the dial-up internet era. I'm now 29 years old. But back then we received a phone call and I answered it. But a man called and explained to me that my dad had an affair with his wife. I hung up and never told anyone except my therapist like a year ago. It hasn't bothered me much to be honest, but it was a weird experience.

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38. Fighting With My Family

My wife thinks I take our daughter to dancing classes, but I actually take her to an MMA gym. The dancing and MMA gym aren’t too far apart, which is how we have been able to get away with it for two years. My daughter loves it there and everyone is so kind to her. Before you jump in telling me I’ve forced my daughter into being an elite fighter over a dancer—I didn’t!

At first, I took her to dancing classes and she hated it. She said all the girls were already in groups of friends when she started and they wouldn’t talk to her. So I said, “Screw it, why don’t we both learn MMA, it’s way more useful than dancing anyway.” I can’t tell my wife about it because she hates stuff like that and there is literally no reasoning with her on the subject of fighting.

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39. Holding On

My cousin, my dad, and I visited my grandfather in the hospital right before he passed. When we were leaving, both my father and cousin gave him a hug and said their goodbyes. I did the same, but when I was about to move away he grabbed my hand and held me there for a few more seconds. I was always close to my great grandparents, closer than any of my siblings or cousins, but he never showed how much he loved me until that moment.

No words, just holding on one last time. His demise was the hardest I had to deal with, much because of that moment.

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40. Do Not Try This At School Kids

When i was in 4th grade, I put mustard in one of my friend's burger because he had told me that he hated mustard. Turns out he was actually allergic. He didn't come to school for three days and I was scared that I made him really sick and finished him. To this date no one knows that I was the true culprit, and I'm hoping it stays that way.

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41. Keep It Together, Man

I recently took a short vacation to a lesser-developed country. On my last night, I decided to sample some of the more exotic local fare and had a mixed seafood dish, which was quite good. All was fine until the flight home when I started feeling a lot of pressure in my abdomen. I could tell I wasn’t going to shart, so I leaned over a bit and poofed out a bit of gas, smooth as silk.

I was giving myself a mental high-five when I realized that what was supposed to have been a sly poot turned out to be a horrendous stench that instantly engulfed several rows fore and aft. Little babies started crying immediately, while the adults let out short barks that registered somewhere between shock and despair. In a display of primal instinct, a couple of teens sitting across the aisle reflexively pulled their tee shirt collars up over their mouth and nose.

The gas was so dense and foul that I thought I could maybe see it clouding the air in the cabin. A flight attendant up front noticed the commotion and bustled down the aisle, but upon entering the contaminated zone, instantly spun on her heel and beat a hasty retreat. There was no way I was going to fess up and apologize, so instead I just scowled and pretended to look around for the culprit.

Fortunately things cleared out pretty fast. I didn’t dare try it again, I had taken my fellow passengers by surprise the first time, but now they were wary and fully alert. For the rest of the flight, anyone who made their way back to the lavatory was subjected to the scrutiny of a hundred eyes. We landed and I deplaned without further incident, however, I did totally trash a toilet in customs, but that’s another story.

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42. Chase The Rainbow

This cherished memory was when my grandmother from the other side of my family was in hospice and on her way out. She and I always used to joke about dying and how it was shocking that she was the last of my grandparents as she smoked, drank, and stayed up all hours of the night watching TV. She was my best friend for my whole life.

I really wish I would have known it was the last time that we would talk. She was in her hospital bed and looked at me as I held her hand and she said, "I'm ready now." "You want the jello now grandma?" I asked her. She genuinely guffawed and said, "NO I'M READY!! I'm ready to go chase rainbows!" Then she relaxed and said she was tired and wanted a nap.

My son who was two at the time said, "I love you" as we left and she was the second person he ever said that to. I'm crying just thinking about it. She was such an awesome woman.

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43. Bros Before Everything

I was in high school and had problems talking to people. I was known as the shy kid. I found out my cousin went to the same school and saw that he was in the same boat. He was a lot more social and a lot more funny but he didn't click with people, just me. We became best friends and had a blast at lunch every day. One day a girl invited me to go eat sushi and I was stoked.

I had plans with my cousin, like a tradition you may say, and I did something that I regret to this day...I just bailed on him. I was like, "Yo, this really cute girl asked me to eat sushi with her." And although he was upset, he was like, "Cool, have fun". Well, when it was time to go eat, I went with the girl and some people told her they were going to go eat at some other place and they only had room for one more in their car.

The girl without hesitating said "yes" and just got in and left me behind. I was scared to walk through the hallways as I was scared to run into my cousin. I didn't have the guts to tell him what just happened. I passed by the library and saw him there, sitting alone, passing time. Broke my heart that I left him. Never happening again. Bros before everything.

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44. A Crisis Of Faith

I’m a pastor who doesn’t believe in God. Here I sit on another Sunday morning. I love the people I minister to. I believe that there are some really good principles in the Bible (and some really awful ones!) so I feel ok about the message of love and hope that I get to deliver. I push back against the hate and judgmental nature of so much Contemporary American Christianity.

But I don’t believe the underlying myth, and I have to pretend that I do. Overall, I believe I’m doing more good than harm, but there’s a dishonesty at the center of it that I have to try to ignore. For what it’s worth, I’m not economically dependent on ministry work. I work outside the church and do my ministry work on a voluntary basis.

I used to get a (very) small stipend but gave it up a few years ago when I no longer needed it. I wonder all the time whether I am lying, or just withholding, or whether that’s a stupid distinction. I strive only to say what I believe, but it’s a stretch. When I say God is Love, I really mean Love is God—the highest power.

Certainly not Christian orthodoxy. I try hard to teach only what I believe: love, grace, care for others, etc. There are not many other forums where I could deliver that message in the same way. Not an excuse, just a fact. Some might feel I’m defiling the faith. I disagree, but humbly. They may be right. I would hate to hurt those who have trusted me. To everyone: “... but the greatest of these is love.”

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45. Young at Heart

My great-grandmother asked my mother to go clean her "toys'' out of her nightstand before the rest of the family went through the house after she perished. My mom thought it was hilarious and awesome.

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46. Special Treatment

I once punched a special needs kid in the face while I was in the school bathroom. Hear me out, I was peeing and he came up behind me and put his hands around my neck. He wasn’t choking me, but he did have a firm grip. I zipped up and slugged him hard. He ran out crying down the hall to his classroom and I just went back to mine.

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47. Memento

My 13-year-old perished in Peru after getting caught in a whirlpool when we were on vacation. His mother, my ex, blamed me for his passing, and our other son also blames me so he doesn't speak to me. He's now 13 too. I don't force him to see me. Nonetheless, when I drive home from work, I pretend that I am talking to my son about how his day was at school, what kind of music he wants to listen to, what he wants for dinner, etc.

That is why I haven't gotten a new car. There are just too many memories.

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48. Dancing to Another's Tune

My grandmother was super religious my whole life. Always going to church and doing right by her community. In her last few hours, she said she really did not believe in god and wished she had not wasted all that time in her life doing what she thought others wanted her to do. It was pretty crazy for her husband, my dad, and aunt to hear her say that.

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49. Nature’s Calling

Two days in a row, when I was in the second grade, I peed my pants because the teacher had this policy where she wouldn't let any student go to the bathroom even during free time in class. By the third time, I had spent a solid 10 minutes begging her before she finally said fine but I peed my pants on the way to the bathroom.

My family only knows of the one time but I had to deal with that humiliation two times before and it was within the first week at school. After that, I had a water bottle that I would relieve myself in during her class for the remainder of the year. I know she thought that letting kids go to the washroom was like giving them an opportunity to goof off. But seriously, I had no friends. There was zero chance of any shenanigans going down.

If I had the opportunity to go back in time, I would have advised myself to pee on her desk because that would have been less humiliating than pissing my pants three days in a row.

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50. Sweep It Under The Rug

How this all began was when I was around 15 or so, I started to become attracted to girls around me—I went into puberty very late. As I grew older, though, instead of my attractions growing in accordance with my age, they never moved, which lead me to continually being attracted to girls of that age. When I was a minor, it wasn't such a big issue, but when I became an adult it was.

When I turned 19, I made the decision to essentially become a recluse. I did not want to hurt anyone, but there were many emotions fighting inside of me. I had urges that I had little control of, and it was a mission every day to avoid following through on them. It came to a head one day when I was speaking to the daughter of a friend and the urges almost overwhelmed me.

I almost broke. This was the point when I shut myself away. I would only go out when I knew that children were at school, or wouldn't be on the street (after dark). I avoided media involving children. I avoided books involving children. Most days I wouldn't go out at all, only going out after dark, if at all. I took jobs where I could work the night shift, so that I didn't have to have any contact with children.

This made my life an utter nightmare. I became a nervous wreck. I would get anxiety if anyone came to the door, just in case it was a child. I still worked, but my performance was poor. This often led to me being fired or disciplined. No one else knew what I was going through. By necessity it was something I had to endure alone, I just had to.

Around seven years ago, I found a psychologist. It had gotten to be too much and I had to speak with someone about it. Over the course of the next six months, we discovered the awful reason behind my urges. My feelings were brought about by my being intimately mistreated at a young age. When it was happening, it was frequent and often violent.

As it turns out, I had repressed most of it. I didn't know how bad it actually was. However, discovering this lead to that revelation. Over the course of three years of twice-weekly treatments, my feelings towards minors began to fade. Slowly, but surely, I started to get better. I owe my psychologist my life—literally. Now, seven years on, I have no attraction towards minors.

I have a much more normal life. I can actually go out during the day without being anxious. I can talk to children with no urges. I am mostly normal. I am still dealing with the repercussions of my dark times, but the dark times themselves are over. I'm married, and I have a baby boy on the way. The process of getting treatment is so freeing.

I can't even describe it now. My psychologist is the one who suggested writing this out. He thinks it will help with my healing process. I hope it will. Thanks for listening. For what it’s worth, my psychological treatment was a blend of Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy and Exposure and Response Therapy. Those two therapies lasted for about 18 months, after which we moved into Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, which also helped a great deal.

It was hard for me to find a psychologist who was willing to take me on. I live in the American South, so psychologists weren't cheap, but my psychologist was interested in it from an academic standpoint, so reduced his price for me in order to study my disorder and my mind in general over the long term. I ended up paying around $50 a session, instead of the $200 he normally charged.

I had a fair amount of money saved to pay the psychologist, as I tend to live a frugal life. Not spending a lot of money on things that most people do for fun or in social situations led me to save a lot of money in general. By the way, the person who harmed me was my father. My mother didn't find out about this until it had been going on for a number of years.

I had never understood why my mother and father split, but once my memories began to resurface, I spoke with her about it. Upon finding out about it, my mother immediately left my father and left the house. She eventually moved us across the country. My father was convicted and was sentenced to eight years behind bars. After five years of incarceration, he passed by suicide.

After leaving my father, my mother looked after me alone for the next six years and then found a new partner. She married him a year later, and I am glad to call him my father. I am still seeing the psychologist who treated me, though on a monthly basis now. In regards to the urges I had, they were different from normal attraction. The best way I can describe it is like an addict looking to get more of a substance.

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51. Secret Agent

My grandmother wrote us a letter to read at her memorial service where she admitted that she had been recruited by the CIA when she was a young woman in the 1950s. Now that was a surprise.

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52. Secret Santa

One Christmas when I was 9 years old, I knew that Santa wasn't real, but for my seven-year-old brother, the fantasy was very much alive and good. We shared a room and my brother woke up on Christmas morning and looked confused that Santa had not eaten the Kit Kat that had been left out. He went quiet and I could see that he was working the facts through in his head.

When he wasn't looking I ate the Kit Kat and showed him the wrapper and claimed that he imagined seeing the wrapper unopened. This was 26 years ago and I have not yet told him in case he works out that Santa is not real.

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53. You Do You

I'm a straight man who goes to gay bars. If I feel like getting tipsy by myself, I will go to a gay bar rather than a straight one because I like the attention I get, plus it's more relaxed because I don't have to worry about insecure dude brahs with something to prove. Oh, and I can drink fruity drinks without being seen as less of a man. I love fruity drinks.

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54. Double Life

Both of my grandparents served in WWII and were lucky enough to survive. While growing up we were told that they performed normal basic jobs during the war. As each one came closer to their demise, more truths came out. My grandfather on my mother's side revealed he was more of a black ops seal type and not a cook as he previously stated. Grandfather on my dad's side was in charge of the army's computers for casualty tabulation.

Timothy Leary factsPikist

55. Free Drinks

When I was in elementary school I once lost something so I asked to go to the lost and found. In the lost and found room, which was a big storage closet, they also stored soft drinks for the pop machines. I took one. Then, probably 3-4 times a week, I would “remember” that I had lost something else and go grab another coke. I don’t know how long I did this for, but I got a lot of free coke.

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56. Free And Clear

Not getting married was the best decision I ever made. I’m 29, and my partner (a 28-year-old woman) and I met eight years ago just before I graduated. We clicked almost immediately. A few months after I graduated, she and her three-year-old son moved in with me. Right after graduating, I started making low six-figures working for a large bank and then went on to do my own thing, having a very lucrative career.

My income was more than enough to support the three of us, so I was comfortable letting her stay home to work on her hobbies and volunteering. I thought our relationship was going well, but she's been pressing me to get married for the last four years. However, the time never seemed right because I wanted to get my own business off of the ground first and she seemed comfortable with that.

Last week, she asked me what I thought about open relationships and whether we could open ours. I know why she asked; I spend a lot of time traveling for work and she probably wants some action on the side while I'm away working. Heck, she might already have something on the side. I knew right then we were done, but I needed to find out how screwed I was before pulling the trigger.

I set up a meet with a lawyer my friend knew and I have to admit I was scared. I'd heard stories of how men were raked over the coals in divorces all the time so I walked into the lawyer's office expecting to lose 50% of everything and more. At first things looked bleak, but then he asked how long we had been married. When I told him that we weren't married, he called me "The luckiest man to ever walk into his office."

Common-law marriage doesn't exist here, which means that when we split up, she gets precisely...nothing...zero...zip...nada. I'm trying to figure out the best time to tell her we're done but that's all I have to say. Not getting married was the smartest decision I've ever made.

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57. They Deserved It!

It was a few months before my grandmother passed when she told me that she peed on her mother-in-law's grave, and said, "Son of a wench deserved it!" She was a little nutty, and I have a deep streak of her madness flowing through my veins.

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58. Bring That Time Back

When I was 8, I spent most Saturdays with my grandma and we would watch the same VHS of Moonstruck every week. I never told her how much I hated that movie. We would watch it and then eat ice cream afterward and put on Saturday Night Live. Opera man era, I would give anything to watch Moonstruck again with my grandma.

Chilling Confessions factsShutterstock

59. Hindsight Is 20/20

Something scared me and my brother really bad when we were younger and I’m just now remembering the details...We were watching one of the Garfield movies and everything was well until the song “I Feel Good” by James Brown started playing in the movie. Now, you may ask, what could’ve scared you so bad from a song like that?

Well, I’ll tell you. In the beginning of the song, James Brown does this sort of scream I guess you could say. Me and my brother had no idea that it was a part of the song and we thought the scream had come from somewhere in our room. After hearing the scream, we immediately ran to our parents’ room and told them we heard someone scream from inside our room.

So my father jumps up and grabs a knife from the kitchen, then walks into our room to find nothing in there. Now everyone in the house thinks there’s an intruder and we all go lock ourselves in my parents’ bedroom and call the authorities. Officers show up and find nothing. I was watching the movie with my niece the other day again and heard that familiar scream.

I suddenly realized that it was only the movie and we’d had the authorities called for no reason at all.

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60. Unexpressed Love

My grandfather and I were never close despite us all living together. We were both arrogant know-it-alls so our personalities clashed. We loved each other, just rarely had anything to say to each other. Most of the family was away on a trip with just me, my siblings, and grandma looking after him when his heart condition worsened. We took him to the hospital and I was told, "This is it." And then they tell him the same.

He just nods silently and goes, "Yeah, I figured." I spend every day by his side while studying for my exams and again we don't talk much. My family booked the quickest flight back and arrived just a few days before he passed. Found out a week after his demise that when I was off writing an exam he told my mom he was insanely proud of me for keeping everything together and that I wasn't as lazy or self-absorbed as he once thought.

I never got that hug and final understanding moment with him, but I'll always love and remember him fondly. I'm glad we did understand each other, even if it wasn't face to face.

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61. Crisis Avoided

When I was in fourth grade, I forgot to submit my homework to the teacher and she forgot to ask. The next time when I had to submit my homework to her, I got really scared. I was afraid she would find out that there's no teacher's signature on the previous assignment. So, when my parents were sleeping, I took the notebook and made tick marks on all the pages I forgot to submit and I also signed it by copying her signature and dated it according to the previous week's date.

She didn't suspect a thing, and to this day, I haven't told anyone this.

Chilling Confessions factsShutterstock

62. Out With The Old

I have a surprise for my sons when they come home. Things were going well, and then bad stuff happened. For almost two years, we were not sure if we were going to be on the streets, but it seemed likely. I barely got by for a year, but we had to do without. I am so ashamed about this. A father should be able to provide for his sons, especially when he is a single father.

I just take solace in the fact that we played it off like we were not poor. For example, my nine-year-old has not had a proper bed for three years, just a rollaway bed. It was nothing short of a miracle that I got the job that I got a year ago. It literally saved our lives. All of a sudden, money isn't an issue. I had to still live on a budget because it was too good to be true.

Now I know I am doing a good job, my boss is happy with me, I am raking tons in of overtime, we have good insurance, etc. I ended up finding a spacious house last month (not an apartment like we live in now) well within what I can afford, right across the street from their school and park. I have been secretly filling it up with new furniture this month and had movers move in all of our stuff today.

They were both actually at the park across the street on a play date and seriously had no idea what I was about to do. I met them at the park, and they asked where the car was because they were cold. I pointed to the car in our new driveway and they were confused. I told them that was our new home. They were even more confused and now slightly disturbed.

I took them to the house and told them to look around, and all of their stuff was there including new stuff. They asked about the apartment and I told them we had moved out so we could live in a bigger and better place. They were so overwhelmed and blindsided. At first, they were just worried that if I had forgotten something at the apartment, then they weren't going to be able to get it back.

Today, however, they were a bit more relaxed and explored the house. They're getting used to having a kitchen sink—we did not have one at the apartment—AND a dishwasher, plus having a front and backdoor and a backyard that's all theirs. I'm pretty sure in a few days they will adapt to it and won't miss their old place.

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63. A Critic’s Eye

When my grandad was on his deathbed, my mum and dad arrived shortly before he passed. He opened his eyes and looked at my dad to say, "I don't like your jumper."

Deathbed Confessions factsShutterstock

64. Hard One To Clean

I was fourteen years old. I wanted to clean the poop, which I had accidentally stepped on, out of my shoe and accidentally smeared it all over the second floor of the school. The school bathroom, where I tried to wash my shoe, was also stained with poop and grass. I just smeared that stink everywhere. Oh, those high school years! No one knew it was me.

Chilling Confessions factsFlickr, SuSanA Secretariat

65. A Gifted Son

I had a small victory with my dad today and it's making me happy. My dad has Asperger's and is notoriously difficult to deal with. Growing up, he never really told me that he loved me or hugged me; he just assumed that I knew and wouldn't say it. It was a difficult time, having a dad who didn't understand your emotions or any sort of affection.

But he does love me. How do I know this? For his birthday, I made him a small leather bracelet, just a simple band. The inside had an expression he often used with me growing up, and the outside had the nautical coordinates of the dock he used to take me fishing at every Saturday morning when I was a kid. It was our thing. We wouldn't talk, but I liked being outside and I knew he liked it because every weekend, without fail, he would ask me if I was ready to go fishing, no prompting from mom.

He simply called me to say thanks for the gift, and he hung up. I didn't think much of it. But then I realized just how much it meant to him. My mom called me yesterday and asked if I had told her neighbors about the bracelet I made dad. I was confused; I had not told them. She said that she hadn't either. She told me that they were talking to her about what a great gift it was and were asking if I could show them where to make one like it.

We realized dad must have been talking about it to them, and actually showed them. Dad NEVER talks about things he likes, especially to strangers. She then told me that he's been wearing it almost every day; again, this is a man who is not about adornment. She also saw him sending a picture to his brother. He might not say it, but that's how I know he misses me. Hope to see you soon, Pops.

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66. God’s Plan

My gramma's brother was in his final moments and he confessed to his wife that he was cheating her a lot, with three other women. He confessed because he was afraid of going through misery after his passing, but it looked like God had other plans for him. Unfortunately for him, and no one knows why, in a blink of an eye he got better and better, until one week later he was released by the doctors. His wife's brother was a lawyer, they issued him and got almost everything.

He lived for seven more years without any money and all the women and their children abandoned him, so he perished alone at home.

Pretending To Be Asleep FactsShutterstock

67. Kid’s Innocence

I was abused by my friend when I was 11 years old and he was 12 years old. He made me suck his dick. I won't ever be open to talk about this with anyone and wasn’t aware at the time about what was happening. He said it’s normal and I think he is bisexual or gay now. I'm a straight male and I just feel like I could never ever say this straight to anyone.

Chilling Confessions factsShutterstock

68. An Education

I only realized that people shower daily when I was 16. I just had no idea. I had a bath once maybe twice a week, and thought that was standard. It wasn't until I went to a boarding school that I realized people would usually shower daily. Thing is, I grew up in quite an isolated location in a foreign country with only my sister and alcoholic mom.

My mom didn't so much as clean the house or cook food, she just drank. My sister and I weren't really clued up on what normal families did. For as long as I remember, I cooked the stuff I could, washed my own clothes, if my mom was too wasted I would ride my bike (about five miles up steep hills) to school, and generally looked after myself. I didn't know how often people changed bed sheets or brushed their teeth.

Simple things you'd usually learn from family went amiss. I didn't even know how to wash dishes manually since we had a dishwasher. It was a weirdly embarrassing moment learning how different I'd been living before boarding school. I learned how to open bottles with a pair of keys for my mom while she drove before I learned that you shouldn't drink and drive.

I knew we grew up a bit different, but entering the normal world was a big eye-opener.

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69. Best of Both Worlds

My mom and her dad both grew up believing and hearing stories from my great-grandmother about how she was the daughter of a Cherokee woman who ran off and joined the circus. It was a good tale. My great-grandmother taught all of us rain dances and other cultural things. All of her decor and style was Cherokee-inspired. She even physically looked Native American. My older cousin even got some college grant based on being 1/16th Native American.

On my great-grandmother's deathbed, she tells my grandpa that she made all of it up. Turns out her mother was really just a woman of European descent who slept around with other men in her neighborhood and dumped my great-grandmother in an orphanage.

Deathbed Confessions factsShutterstock

70. It’s A Win-Win Situation

This year I sent an extra-large toilet paper roll holder to my friend's house as a joke. They still don’t know it was me and I’ve never laughed so hard in my life when he called the whole friend group asking who did it. I put the name on it as “Mr. Poopee Buhole.”

Chilling Confessions factsPixabay

71. Too Young To Love

I left my husband after 30 years and three kids. We were married on February 4th, 1989. I was 15 years old, and he was 16 years old. He looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky. Our parents had approved of us. The wedding preparations had been in process for a few weeks, but we had met at the beginning of the week when we were engaged.

He did all the talking. I didn't see him again until the wedding. It was a beautiful day. It's hard to remember now, and everything blurs together, but I remember thinking about how my world was ending by the time the end of the day came. See, I never wanted to be married. I never wanted to have kids. But I didn't say anything that first night, or any nights after that.

Not after the birth of our first son, nor after the birth of the twins. He did everything to make me happy, and I'll never forget that. I've gotten the divorce papers ready. I've moved out my things. He's devastated, the children hate me, but that's okay. I know I'm a terrible person for ruining this. I have no idea what I'll do after this. I have no high school education, no work experience either.

I'm in my 40s, and I've wasted a lot of my life being unhappy. If there's anything you can learn from this, don't be like me.

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72. Anything But a Teacher!

I come from a family of teachers. My grandmother was a teacher, my mother was a teacher, my father was a principal, and four of my grandmother's sisters were teachers. On my grandfather's deathbed, he called me over, grabbed my hand, and said to me "Kasper-X-Hauser, whatever you do, don't waste your life and become a teacher!"

Deathbed Confessions factsShutterstock

73. Right Under Their Nose

It's my fault that pogs, cards, and other collectibles are forbidden in my old school. When I was eleven years old, I was the perfect kid. Smart, the best grades, and the teacher's pet. But I was an ugly, 'masculine' girl so I got bullied a lot. One day I decided I was done and went about finding my own sense of justice: I swiped more than three hundred pokemon pogs from the kid who bullied me.

I told a teacher I needed to go to the toilet to puke, then I sneaked inside of our class during recess, hid the large bag in the back of a cupboard, then walked out and played with some friends to have an alibi. Each backpack was searched that day and we were collectively and individually interrogated before we went home.

I waited an entire month before retrieving the bag of pogs and slowly started selling the pogs to my classmates, including the guy who bullied me. No one but me ever knew what happened to the bag. It was such a scandal in my school that more than ten years later, kids cannot bring them to school or they'll get confiscated.

Chilling Confessions factsShutterstock

74. Chew On This One

While waiting outside my kids’ school to pick them up, a class of middle schoolers walked past. It was close to Halloween, and I looked up when a girl with makeup and colored hair called out, “Hi!” to me. I was kind of caught off guard but noticed she was made up for Halloween and guessed she wanted some attention for her costume.

I noticed what looked like big teeth and assumed they were fake. Trying to be funny, I said, “Wow, you really need to see a dentist.” Almost immediately, I regretted it. I think I heard her mutter, “How rude...” And my brain finally caught up and realized her teeth were not fake, but just abnormally prominent. There was nothing I could do at that point.

I’ve seen her once more around the school but didn’t say anything. I can’t really say, “Sorry, I thought those were fake costume teeth.” That wouldn’t help. Now, I just feel like a jerk. I physically cringe every time I think about it.

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75. Let The Boat Sail

Before my grandma from my mom's side passed, she had spent at least three weeks in a semi-conscious or more like a quasi dream state before finally dying. Her house was on a lake and her deathbed was in a room that overlooked it. During those weeks, she would constantly tell my mother that a boat was waiting for her and asked if it was all right if she could get on it.

This persisted, along with my grandmother having full conversations with relatives who were gone years before I was even born, until one day when my grandma asked my mother if it would be alright if she could leave on the boat again, to which my mother finally replied with, "It's alright if you want to." My grandma departed a couple hours later.

Eerie little tidbit, my grandmother's watch, which was in another room at the time of her demise, stopped at the exact time of my grandmother's passing. Apparently, it's pretty common for weird stuff to happen around the time of passing for people in my family. When an uncle who I never met perished, a car of his that hadn't worked for years suddenly turned on.

And when my grandma from my dad's side expired, the doorbell at my parents' gate rang but no one was standing there.

Caught on Home Security Cameras factsShutterstock

76. What’s Her Name?

I didn't know my best friend's name for almost ten years. She goes by Katie almost exclusively and got it in my head early on that it was short for Katelyn. Imagine my surprise when I heard her being referred to as 'Kathryn' at our convocation. No right way to bring that one up in a conversation.

Chilling Confessions factsShutterstock

77. The Girl Can’t Help It

My wife needs a liver transplant, and part of me wants her to pass before getting one. Honestly, I struggled using the word "want," but if I am confessing, I'll be blunt. Now that that is out there, how about a little background? My wife and I have been married for 12 years and have one child. We met in Germany (she is German) but moved to the States in 2010.

Things were good for the first couple years. Some culture shock, disappointments when education didn't transfer, and learning the ins-and-outs of living stateside, but nothing drastic. That's when the depression began. The wife became super depressed. She was working part-time, where I was working 12-hour days. I would leave for work before she woke up, and I would get home after her.

Despite that, I would have to get our son ready and take him to daycare in the mornings, and most days I would pick him. This is where things started to go downhill around the house. Dishes would get left in the sink overnight, floors wouldn't get swept as often, stuff like that. And I'm not saying that is all her fault; I'm an adult and know how to wash a dish or operate a broom, but sometimes after 12 hours at work, screw that noise.

I chalked it up to having a toddler, a dog, and two working adults. It is a house, not a museum. I mentioned the depression, let's get back to that. It started simple enough, crashing on the couch. She'd get home after a rough day, have some drinks, and pass out on the couch. Not every night, maybe once a month. This lasted for months, but over the course of over two years, it became more and more normal and she was drinking more and more until it was more often than not.

With her on the couch, intimacy started to wane. Again it was gradual, and again I chalked it up to raising a family. Then the rejections started. As a kind of joke throughout our relationship, we would “trade” things for intimacy. For example, "If you cook dinner and do the dishes tonight, you’ll get lucky," or "If you want to go hang out with the boys, you better sleep with me now."

Just our thing. Well, she kept making those same promises, but would never go through with it. Yes, I know that no one ever owes anyone else intimacy. Yes, I know it is her body. But at that point, we were going without for months. I was still asking, she was still saying yes later, and then she would pass out. No biggie once or twice or ten times, but this had become the unending norm.

Every time that she promised but passed out instead was a rejection. I would stare at her while she slept and just feel hurt. Fast forward a few years; she is drinking more and I've stopped asking. We are roommates at this point. She has stopped working and stays at home full time. The house is a wreck. Clutter and dirt everywhere.

We stop having friends over so no one will see the clutter. Piles of unfolded laundry in baskets. Every morning I would search for matching socks. Every morning I was reminded of how little she did around the house. This is also when we were fighting all the time. Both yelling, her crying, her passing out...it was our nightly routine.

One of my often repeated points in our arguments was the house. I'm working full time, the kid was in school, she was home all day, why is the place a mess? What was happening was she was getting wasted in the morning, passing out, getting up in the afternoon, just to drink and pass out in the evening, but not before squeezing in a fight.

I was done and was ready for a divorce, but the only thing that was keeping me from doing it was my son. Still, something had to change. I laid down my ultimatum: get a job, go back to school, or GET OUT. She picks going back to school. I help her look for a school and find a program she is really excited about. The drinking lessens (never stops), and good times are here again. Until I get the phone call at work.

She called to let me know she was about to kill herself. Didn't see that coming. Rush home, get there just in time. Let's revisit that depression I mentioned earlier. She was in counseling and working to find the right balance of medication, but something that day was too much. She was checked into the kind of hospital that takes your shoelaces and was there a week or two.

After this, she was like a changed person. Fast forward a few years. You need a psychiatrist to prescribe medication. Hers retires. The office where she gets counseling didn't hire a new one. She stops taking the medication. Hello again depression, and I see you brought anxiety with you. Awesome. Oh, and here comes the drinking again, but it has managed to increase.

Double awesome. This time, the wife couldn't be without drinks. She started sleeping downstairs again, a drink always within reach. ALWAYS. She would carry a bottle in her purse. Eventually, she got sick. Wow, that was a lot, but it brings us to the last two years. At the beginning of 2017, she was hospitalized. Early stages of liver failure, but still treatable.

Think she quit drinking? Nope. A few months later, I come home with my son and find my wife collapsed and unresponsive on the floor. Ambulance ride, ICU, coma. The doctors aren't sure she'll live. At this point, I'm devastated but I try to steel myself for the possibility. The last few years haven't been great, and I was ready for a divorce, but I didn't want her gone.

She is the mother of.......OH GOD! It hits me. It hits me hard. I was prepared for her to get sick, possibly pass, but facing the real possibility I realized I would have to tell my son. I would have to look him in the eyes and say, "Mommy is gone." I hit bottom. I know I cried the rest of that night. She made it. Eventually, she woke up, was moved out of the ICU, and sent home.

For a week. That is when the seizure happened. Another ambulance ride. She aspirated during the seizure, which led to pneumonia, which led to the ICU. However, in her weakened state, she couldn't be treated locally. She was transferred to a university hospital. She needed a new liver, but to get one, you must be sober for six months.

She got worse. She was transferred again, this time to a hospital we'll just say is ranked pretty high GLOBALLY. No new liver, but things got better. She was released with a new lease on life. She quit drinking. She was transferred back to the local hospital, and continued outpatient treatment. End 2017. 2018 started good, but, about midway through, her condition worsened again.

No worries. She is being treated by a doctor, and with her new sobriety, they'll put her on the list. She can't do a lot on her own. I have to open bottles of water, help with medication, and some activities of daily living. The house is more cluttered than ever, the wife still sleeps downstairs, and intimacy is nonexistent (obviously), but things are looking good.

I'm not going to lie, these last two years have been rough. I know I haven't been perfect, and things have fallen by the wayside, but the major things are taken care of. The boy gets hot food every night, help with his homework, and clean clothes every day. The wife gets to her appointments and gets her treatments. I'm still working, and even picked up a promotion. Then tonight happened.

I just found two grocery bags full of empty cans and bottles. She has been hiding drinks. I'm done. The last two years have been an absolute nightmare. It has taken every ounce of me to not lose it. To manage everything. I can't anymore. Every day I would drive home from work, I would get stressed. As soon as I open the door, I'm overwhelmed with everything that needs to be done, but I focus on getting all the necessary things taken care of to keep the household rolling.

I've been so lonesome having a wife, who turned into a roommate, who turned into a responsibility. During the many, many appointments I've been to, one doctor explained the liver transplant this way: "Two people will pass so that you can live. The person who gave you the liver and the person who didn't get it in time, because you did." So here it is, here is my confession:

Part of me thinks my wife doesn't deserve the transplant, and my life would be easier if she wasn't here.

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78. Final Message

When I was fifteen, my dog had to be put down due to an inoperable heart tumor and internal bleeding. It was a sad moment, but as I went down to pet him one last time in that time of tranquility, he growled at me. Not anyone else in my family of six. Just me. That dog really growled at me. It's like in his last moments, he was giving a final, “Screw you."

About two years before his passing, my dog Tucker began to dislike me. A lot. Before this, he used to love me and I used to love him. But as I hit a growth spurt, and got half a foot taller than I was, he began to resent me more and more. This resulted in me having not much of a good relationship with him, and I guess this showed on his deathbed.

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79. Never Too Old To Learn

To this day, I still don’t know how to ride a bicycle.

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80. Take A Hike

Some years ago I decided to go alone on a beautiful two-day hike a few hours away from where I lived. I decided to do it because I wanted to challenge myself as I hadn't really done much on my own at that age and was highly dependent on other people. If you're familiar with the route and in good shape you can complete it in one day, but due to me getting lost and stopping to enjoy the scenery, I had to set up camp twice.

A couple of years later, I met a girl who I fell in love with instantly. I hadn't been with anyone before, so to me she was extra special, and within six months of meeting each other we moved in together. After being together for a little over a year and a half, I took her to the same trail that I hiked alone years earlier, and we had an amazing time.

We didn't rush it but because I knew the route, and we finished late on the second day. The year after and on the same date we walked the trail again. Due to some bad weather, we had to set up camp twice. Even though that year wasn't as good as the first, we enjoyed it a lot. In the third year of being together, things weren’t as good as the previous years. I could feel something was wrong in our relationship, but it being my first relationship I didn't know it had simply run its course.

In an attempt to bring back the spark, I suggested we should do the trip a third time and she agreed. We had a good time, but it just wasn't the same. A little bit after this, I ended the relationship because I could tell she wasn't happy. Or I thought she wasn't happy. The next few months absolutely sucked for me. I decided to go no-contact because talking to her would be too hard.

I still loved her very much. I struggled a lot for about eight months. I quit my job, I moved back in with my parents and I isolated myself completely. I quit doing anything that reminded myself of her. We used to watch TV shows together, play games on my Nintendo, we cooked together and had our favorite recipes. I stopped doing all of this.

I couldn't even go back to dating. Even flirting with girls felt wrong. I was absolutely miserable, so in an attempt to get my life back together, I thought it'd be a good idea to reintroduce myself to the things we did and make them my own. I cooked our favorite meal, I watched the last season of Game of Thrones and I invited a friend over to play Mario Kart.

It was depressing at first, but after a bit, I managed to enjoy doing it without her. Thinking I was getting over her, I figured I should go on our hike once again alone, just like I did the first time. It was the ultimate symbolic nail in the coffin of our relationship. My plan was to start dating again after this trip, and I knew exactly who I was going to ask out.

The day came for the trip, and I was getting ready. I was excited, but a little bit depressed as well. I felt butterflies in my stomach and was a little bit nauseous. I was shaking more and more the closer I got to the parking site. I arrived late in the day as my sleep schedule had been rather out of sync for a very long time. Once I got my gear out of the car, I debated not doing the trip at all.

It didn't feel right somehow. After thinking about it for some time I decided to do it. I had to do it. I didn't enjoy it at first, but it was a beautiful day, so I came to enjoy it after the first hour or so. I was getting hungry so I looked for a spot to camp for the night. After eating and thinking for a little bit, I decided to walk a little longer. I remembered the first camping spot my ex and I used, and it was only a 25-minute walk or so.

Once I got there, I spotted another tent in the exact same spot as we were in the first time. I tried to look around for a person, but I couldn't see or hear anyone. I set up my tent not too far away, but not too close either so they wouldn't feel creeped out. I sat outside with a fire enjoying the dusk. It was getting dark when I heard the neighbor talking on the phone.

It was a girl. Her voice was so recognizable I froze up for about a minute. I tried to listen to what she said, but I couldn't make it out. I was 90% sure it was her, but it had been a long time. She didn't talk after that so I guess she fell asleep. I, on the other hand, could not sleep at all. I was still using the same tent my ex and I used when we went together.

I hoped she would recognize it in the morning, but to make sure I left my sweater outside that I'd had for years. When I woke up the next morning, I had hardly slept at all. My entire body screamed for me to look outside and see if the neighbor tent was still there. When I finally did, I saw that it wasn't. I got out, ready to eat my breakfast, and then I saw her.

It was really her. She waved at me and after a few seconds, I waved back. She came over towards me and said hello. I asked her why she was there and she told me she enjoyed the hike so much she wanted to do it again. I asked her if she was with anyone and she said no, it was just her. I remember thinking it was a little odd as she'd always been a little scared at night when we were together.

I couldn't imagine her ever going alone. I was also very shocked to even see her again. I can barely remember what happened just after that, but I remember eating my breakfast and sharing some of my cookies with her. She showed me her new tattoo and told me she was planning to get more. I never took her for a tattoo person. She had changed so much, but she still had the same personality.

For the rest of the way, we walked together. We talked and we laughed. Eventually, we made it to the second camping spot and we set up our tents. We got ready to eat and compared our foods. I brought spaghetti and she had stale crispbread and liver pate. She looked a little disappointed, so I asked her if we could switch because my stomach hurt a little bit and I didn't feel like eating spaghetti.

She didn't accept at first, but after some convincing she happily accepted my offer. It was getting late so we decided to head to bed. I was crazy tired after walking all day so I fell asleep almost immediately. Sometime during the night, I woke up and heard her coming into my tent. She told me she was hearing some scary sounds, though I told her I couldn't hear anything.

She mumbled something for a bit and then asked me if she could sleep in my tent with me. I was half asleep but somehow managed to move my stuff around enough to make room for her. She brought her sleeping bag and got inside. I was just about to fall asleep when I heard her taking her clothes off, and suddenly I was wide awake.

She never enjoyed sleeping with her clothes on so I knew she was naked. She also made sure to leave her bra between our sleeping bags so I could get a good look at it. It took some discipline to fall back asleep, but eventually, I managed to do it. When I woke up the following morning, she was still sleeping and I was spooning her.

I had set up my tent with a little bit of an incline so sometime during the night, she must have inched closer and closer to me. After so many months of not being with someone, lying this close her and knowing she was naked in her sleeping bag made me extremely, uh, agitated. I decided to go out in the woods and get some air, but the action of getting out of my sleeping bag woke her up.

I told her I was going out to pee, but I don’t think she was fooled. I got out and realized I really did have to pee, so I stood by the trees for a few minutes waiting for it to calm down enough to let the water out. It was close to impossible, but eventually, I managed to do it. Having been out there for a good few minutes, I heard her yelling at me and asking what was taking so long.

I just said I really, really had to pee. She told me to come back, but I knew I wouldn't be able to walk all day like this. She yelled again so I went back inside. She was still in her sleeping bag, still mostly naked but she had put on a thin, but still see-through sweater. She sat up straight and zipped down her sleeping bag and gave me a good long look at her.

I swear I almost passed out from blood loss. I couldn't hold myself back so I kissed her. She kissed me back and within seconds we were both naked on her sleeping bag going at it. For the rest of the trip we were back to our old selves, exactly how we were before the relationship took a bad turn. It felt amazing and I don't think I've ever been happier.

When the trip ended we hung around for a bit, but eventually got back in our cars and drove off. When I got home, I unblocked her on Facebook and looked through her profile. A shock of sadness went through me as I looked. I noticed a guy she had introduced me to at the end of our relationship in some of her pictures. I asked my friend and he said they got together a few weeks after we ended it.

I'm not sure if she cheated on me or if she just acted weird because she developed feelings for the guy, but I fell back into the same depression I'd developed after our breakup. It didn't last as long this time, but it took much more from me to get out of it. I also learned from our mutual friend that this guy was the reason she got into tattoos and that they only dated a few months and that she was the one who ended it.

I wanted to contact her, but after some time and rational consideration, I decided not to. After some time, I met a new girl. She was amazing and I enjoyed her company a lot. I realized that I didn't love her, but I clung onto her to not be alone I think. We dated for a few months, but I couldn't get serious with her. I believe she was in love with me so I couldn't bring myself to end it.

My yearly hiking trip date was coming up. I debated going, but I knew I wouldn't be able to keep myself from going just in case my ex did. I packed my stuff and left for the hike. I got there early and waited in my car to see if she showed up. I sat in my car for two hours just waiting when I finally saw a car arriving. Sure enough, it was her, but the car was new.

I waved at her and she smiled and waved back. We caught up and I told her I had a girlfriend. She looked a little disappointed but she was happy for me. She did ask if I minded us sharing a tent so she didn't have to carry hers, and stupidly enough I agreed. We started the hike and we had a good time. It was not the same as the previous year, it got a little awkward at times, but it was fun.

The first night was tough. She once again got naked in her sleeping bag and I was hot and bothered, but nothing happened. The next morning, she woke me up saying she was ready to eat. When I finally managed to open my eyes and look at her, she unzipped her sleeping bag again, showing me her fully naked body. We kissed and touched each other for a little bit but I broke it off before anything really happened.

I had no idea where that strength came from, but I didn't want to cheat on my current girlfriend. We ate breakfast and after a quick bathroom break away from each other, we set off for the last part of the trail. Things got weird and we decided to walk the rest of the way over camping another night. We got to the end and said our goodbyes, and I immediately regretted finishing the hike so early.

I stopped her from leaving and invited her to talk for a bit. We sat on a bench and talked. I told her I wasn't happy with my girlfriend and she helped me a good bit. I realized I had to break up with her. By the end, we kissed and touched each other some more. She ended it there and we went our separate ways. First thing I did after coming home was break up with my girlfriend.

She cried for a bit, but took it surprisingly well. I talked a little bit with my ex after that, but nothing really came out of it. I was so into her at this point, almost obsessed. After some time, I blocked her again. She didn't really return my messages so I left it at that. Eventually, I had mostly forgotten about her. I had some random hookups but nothing that really lasted.

Then, the date was getting closer and I started thinking about her again. If I went, would she be there? I was happy and sad. I wasn't in love with her anymore, or not like I used to at least. My feelings for her were confusing. The date was coming up and I made sure to take the Friday off from work in good time, but the day before they called me and said I had to come in.

I decided not to go on the hike, even though I was all packed and ready. When the morning came I got up and ready for work. In the shower, I suddenly felt really depressed. I called work and told them I couldn't come in. They said it was fine and that the guy who called off was coming anyway. I hurried up and packed my camping gear into my car and drove towards the hiking trail faster than I've driven before in my life.

I was super excited to get there, and scared she wouldn't be there at the same time. I had no idea if she'd be there or not. I hadn't asked around about what she was up to or looked at her Facebook at all. That made it even more exciting and scary. The only stop I made along the way was to buy the most optimistic condoms and lube I've ever bought.

Eventually after some delays, I made it to the trail parking spot. I drove around looking with my pulse going crazy. It was taking forever even though the parking spot is really small. I spotted a familiar car and sure enough, there she was. She was glowing and smiling wider than I've ever seen her before. She looked so happy! I got out and gave her a hug.

It felt so good to just stand there and hug her. We hugged for probably five minutes, but it felt like it was only 10 seconds. I could not get enough of her. We set off once again, with only one tent. I had brought a comfy inflatable mattress, pillows, and blankets this time so she didn't even bring her sleeping bag. We didn't get far, not even the usual camping spot, before we were all over each other.

The spot was terrible, but we quickly set up the mattress and blankets, not even caring about the tent. The spot was fully visible from the trail, but we didn't care at all. She got naked, and we went at it for what felt like hours. It was amazing I was more drained after that than I've ever been hiking this trip before. We set up camp and stayed there for the length of our trip.

There was a small lake nearby that we skinny-dipped in twice a day. We stayed there for three days and only ended the trip because we ran out of food and snacks. We decided to end it with a decent meal at a nice restaurant. Coincidentally, she met one of her friends there. The girl seemed nice, but also a little confused as to why I was there. Maybe she knew I was her ex or something, I don't know.

Now, as it turns out, this last trip was almost a year ago. I haven't talked with her since, but I've thought about her every day since that. I'm pretty sure I'm in love with her. More so than any other girl I've been with. I can't get her out of my head, especially now as the date is coming up in a few months. This year I've heard rumors that she's getting married, but I haven't had the guts to ask around.

My friends probably know, but don't really care enough about her to even tell me. I don't know if I should go this year, but I know for sure I won't be able to stop myself. I haven't even checked if she has a boyfriend. What I do know is that she's definitely going. My only friend who knows about it sent me a screenshot of her status saying how much she's looking forward to her yearly hiking trip, and I got a text badly disguised as an advertisement for the hiking trip that exact day.

It included stuff like "...mountain with sexy scenes" "...hot nights” and "...bring protection from wet weather and cat attacks." I also get photos of her in camping gear that gets increasingly more revealing. She's down to a see-through fishnet sweater with no underwear. I'm madly in love with this girl, even though we only meet once a year.

We have amazing chemistry and have so much fun the days we meet. I'm not doing myself any favors meeting her like this. I doubt I'll ever find someone else if I keep doing it. It's not right to do it if she's serious with someone else, either. I don't know what I should do, but I darn well know what I am going to do anyway. I can’t help myself.

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81. Tough Love

In a sweet moment, while my grandmother was in hospice, my aunt started singing her a hymn while she thought she was resting. My grandma opened her eyes and told her she was a terrible singer. Wouldn't have hurt to have provided that bit of tough love a couple of decades earlier, to be honest.

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82. Odd Booger

I put boogers on my little brother’s wall by his bed for years. He got in so much trouble.

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83. The Old Switcheroo

I am a bartender, and I once saw a guy drug another girl’s drink. While he wasn’t looking, I switched the drinks. I then watched the guy drug himself. This has been on my chest for the last few months and it finally feels good to confess. Until now I have told no one and I just feel much better. I feel like I truly did the right thing and I acted on instincts.

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84. Majestic Park

My Grandpa was effectively my dad, though not biologically related to me at all. He expired of Leukemia in 2011, and my family and I essentially took days with him in the hospital during the time before his death. During my day with him, he was a bit off thanks to pain and medication. Right after one of his more disconnected episodes, he sits up in bed, swings his feet over to the floor, and then suddenly just stops—maybe due to fluid motion abruptly ending.

From the mouth of a man who had never said anything about beauty, art, or the like come the words "Majesticpark, look at the sky! It's beautiful," so I look. Looks to me like the sky from "The Seine at Argenteuil," which is kinda pretty even to me, a complete neanderthal with respect to art. Then he continues, "I'm so proud of you and your mother."

For me, the shocking part was the verbal recognition of something beautiful, but the latter portion had me pretty bent out of shape, in a good way and I needed to sit out the evening shift I had at the time. I miss that guy.

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85. No Sharing, No Caring

In pre-school, a parent brought in fruit roll-ups for the entire class and they mysteriously went missing while the class was in the gym. I ate like a king after bedtime and had the best week of my life.

Chilling Confessions factsFlickr, inazakira

86. Forbidden Fruit

My boss is generally a jerk. One day, I noticed his wife, who also works at the company, came up as a recommended friend on Snapchat, so I copied the user name and added her on my burner Snapchat. After a few messages and a few fake selfies, she has told me she is single and sent some darn good revealing pictures. I feel a bit guilty now, but darn she is hot.

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87. Left Unsaid

I was on the phone with my grandpa when he was in the hospital. He was dying from emphysema and COPD. He had been on oxygen for years, a small tube in his nose. I guess in the hospital they put an oxygen mask on him. We had a short conversation, and it was really hard to understand him. He repeated something and I just said, "Okay." While I had no clue what he was saying.

To this day I feel like he was trying to tell me something. It bothers me a lot. I feel really bad about it.

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88. Was A Blast

When my siblings and I were on family vacation around 10 years ago, I put a firecracker in the toilet and it shattered. I blamed it on the family friend who came along that year. It was me.

Chilling Confessions factsPxfuel

89. Bizarre Love Triangle

I have been sleeping with both partners of a married couple. Neither of them is aware the other is cheating, and the wife doesn't know the husband likes men. The wife came onto me first, but I didn't sleep with her out of respect for her husband. Until, that is, he messaged me on Grindr and I realized they're as bad as each other and I may as well have some fun with it.

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90. Guardian Angel

My girlfriend was sitting with her father near his deathbed. He was incoherent the past few days as he was obviously getting close to dying. He sat up, looked at her, and pointed to the ceiling. "Denise, he said. That's my guardian angel. I don't need him anymore, I told him to watch over you. He laid back down in bed and passed.

Deathbed Confessions factsShutterstock

91. Smart Work

I speak two languages. So every time I received a new essay I would browse the topic in my own language and translate the text word-by-word to English then submit it. No one has ever caught me for plagiarism before.

Workplace Suck-Ups FactsPexels

92. We Need To Talk About Kevin

This is very hard for me and I have been carrying it for a lot of years. On the advice of my therapist, I’ve written it all out to try to work out my feelings on it. I still really have no idea how I feel about it, even after all these years, but I will submit for judgment by the masses. I know I did wrong on some things, probably a lot of things.

I tried to do the best that I could. My son was very troubled. VERY troubled. If you have seen the movie We Need To Talk About Kevin, it will really help to understand what I'm talking about, because I swear to God when I watched that film I thought I was watching a documentary of my life. I felt like the writer must have had cameras hidden in my house, that’s how accurate it was.

The only difference is that in the movie, the boy appears normal to his father and only reveals his true nature to his mother. With my son, he didn’t have that mask. His insane behavior was the same with everyone. From the day he was born, my son just came out wrong. He was planned, my wife and I tried to get pregnant and were ecstatic when he was born.

He was wanted and loved. We showered affection on him and really tried to give him a happy childhood. But from the day we brought him home from the hospital, he was miserable. He cried for 13 months straight. I’m not exaggerating, 13 months without a break, he cried until he had no voice left and kept crying, you could see his little face scrunched up and no sound coming out, totally hoarse.

There were times he would literally be crying in his sleep. I’ve never seen or heard of any other kid being able to do that. We brought him to doctors, specialists, tried changing his diet, held him, rocked him, toys, swaddling, music, mobiles, everything we could think of. Nothing worked. 13 months of grating, grinding, no sleep nightmare.

Once he got over the crying stage, we thought we were out of the woods. We were so, so wrong. It quickly became clear that for some unknown reason, he was just angry at being alive. I never saw that kid have a genuine, joyous smile once in the time I knew him. I saw him grin a vicious, horrible grin many times, taking a perverse pleasure from causing pain or suffering or breaking a rule, but a smile from real pleasure at something nice? No, never. Not once.

He had no interest in anything positive; he was fueled by hate, and everything he did was bent toward that. As soon as he could walk, his mission in life was to destroy things. He would break or try to break anything that came in his range, smash it, chew it, throw it in the toilet, whatever he could. After a while, he figured out how to get his diaper off and took great pleasure in pooping and peeing anywhere he could.

After that, he also figured out he could hide it, and started peeing and pooping in places we wouldn’t find right away, grinding it into carpets and making it even more of a problem to clean and making the house stink. When he got older, (ages nine-15) he would pee and poop in our bed, until we got a lock on our door and he wasn’t able to get in anymore. That made it so much more horrific.

He’d just take a dump in the hallway in front of our room. That biological battle started around two and a half years old and he never grew out of it. I’ll try to speed it up as I could literally go on for days about this stuff, but as he grew older, he became more and more unmanageable. He would bite, kick, scream, scratch, and spit at anyone trying to do anything with him.

He was kicked out of school twice before he was nine, then they let him back in and then kicked him out for good, and he had to change schools. The next one put him in a special class that kept him away from the other students. We had to install a door and lock on the kitchen because he would take knives and use them to gouge the walls and furniture or chase people with them.

When he was 10, he got me pretty good in the hip and butt; I still have the scars. As he grew older, he grew darker. He moved into setting things on fire and tormenting local animals. There was a stray dog that hung out around the park near our house, my son blinded it in one eye with a BBQ fork. He would dip cats’ tails in gasoline and light them on fire.

He became a violent, stinking, vicious beast that lived in our house. We couldn’t do anything with him. I will take this opportunity to pre-empt the tsunami of objections: YES, we had the kid in therapy. He saw a psychiatrist twice a week, and had god knows how many different medications prescribed to him over the years. Nothing worked.

Therapy didn’t work. Meds didn’t work. Nothing worked. He was like a poison cloud of hate and fury lashing out at anything in his reach. When my son was 16, my wife got pregnant again. I can’t tell you how different our reaction was. Instead of joy, we felt horror. This pregnancy had not been planned, and we really were at a loss over what to do.

My son had been such an unending nightmare for 16 years, we couldn’t take the idea of starting again from the beginning. We talked a lot about terminating, but a) access to abortion was not as easy in those days as it is now, and b) my wife was very against it. We talked about many options. In the end, we decided that my wife would have the baby, and if it turned out evil we would put it up for adoption.

We knew we just couldn’t do it again with another child like our son. We had a daughter. She was normal. Suddenly, we saw what our lives should have been like the whole time, how things would have been had our son not been himself. She laughed at things. She breastfed without biting—she didn’t have teeth yet anyway, but you could tell she was just trying to eat, not tear her mom’s breast off.

After four months, she was sleeping through the night. She was happy. She was NORMAL. I can’t describe the relief and happiness that we both felt, I don’t have the words for it. This is where I believe I may have started really pulling back from my son. Up until that time, whatever mistakes I made, I had always tried to do the best for my son, I am convinced of that.

I tried to help him and love him and care for him, I really tried. But when my daughter was born, my wife and I both instinctively just turned toward her. She became our focus, not from malice, but just because she was so much EASIER. She was so happy and sweet, every moment we were with her was like magic. I understand this was wrong, but we honestly couldn’t help it.

I don’t have a better explanation than that. My son hadn’t cared at all about my wife being pregnant, I honestly don’t know if he really understood it, but when we brought our daughter home he started acting out even more. I didn’t think it was possible, but he took it up another notch. At this time he was 17, and we were having blowout screaming matches daily.

Usually after we fought, he would storm out of the house and disappear for hours at a time, or come back the next morning. It was a relief. I started to actually look forward to our fights because it would get him away from us for a while. After the birth of our daughter, my relationship with my son was almost entirely gone, and our only real interactions were screaming at each other.

My wife was even worse with him, she just had nothing left. By that time, if our son even came into the same room as her, she would just stop whatever she was doing and start screaming “GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY! GET OUT!” until he left. He started spending more and more time out of the house, which was a blessing for us.

I have no idea what he got up to out in the world, but we were just happy it wasn’t being inflicted on us. As a consequence of our son’s behavior, we had invested heavily in locks around our house. All of the cheap, thin interior doors in our home had been replaced with thick, dense wood doors that couldn’t be kicked through, equipped with keyed locks that my wife and I carried keys to.

I know it sounds extreme, but locks and heavy doors were the best way we had found to create safe spaces from him. And again, before I am inundated with criticisms, I was not locking my son in rooms; he had free rein of the house and could come and go as he pleased. My wife and I would lock OURSELVES in rooms to protect ourselves from him.

On the day in question, I had fought with my son in the morning and he had left the house in a rage. My wife and I were enjoying some peace and quiet in the kitchen while our daughter napped in our bedroom. And then my daughter began crying. Any parent who has young children can tell you, you get used to your child’s cries and you can tell after a while what they need.

They cry differently if they are hungry, or need changing, or are just restless and want to be held. Babies can communicate pretty well before they can speak. This cry was none of those things. This cry was terror. The second we heard it, my wife and I were both up out of our chairs and running to the room. The door was locked of course, and it took a few seconds to get the right key and get it open.

My son was in the room. We lived in a bungalow, and he had climbed in the window to get to her. He was standing over her crib with a steak knife in his hand. I have no idea where he got it. It wasn’t one of ours; we controlled our knives very carefully and always kept them in locked drawers. I think he may have taken it from one of our neighbors’ houses.

He had broken her skin twice already, once in the belly area and once on her arm. I could see blood running down. When I entered the room, he was dragging the back of the knife down her face, not cutting, almost tickling her with it, teasing her while she screamed. He looked up at us and smiled. Before I knew what I was doing, I was already moving, running to put myself between them.

I didn’t think about it, I just moved instinctively. Even with that, my wife got there faster. It was like a movie on fast forward. She got to our son and bashed his hand away, knocking the knife across the room, and then she shoved him with her whole body weight, so hard that he flew away from the crib and bounced off the wall.

I picked up my daughter and held her while my wife screened us. I could see her shaking, almost convulsing. I can remember the smell of the room, the sound of my daughter screaming and wailing. The look on my son’s face as he stood there. Just nothing. Blank. There was nothing in his eyes, no emotion. He looked like an alien to me.

I watched my wife take a step toward him. I could have reached out and stopped her, but I didn’t. She stepped forward again, very close to him. I could have stopped her again. But I didn’t. She waited, looking at him for maybe three to five seconds without moving. And then she punched him in the face. Now until this point, you may have been picturing my wife as a typical woman, small frame, dainty, delicate.

This is not the case. My wife does have a small frame, but dainty and delicate she is not, never has been since I’ve known her. Since her early teens, my wife has been a boxer. MMA didn’t exist back then, but karate and boxing were big in those days, and my wife was a VERY talented amateur. She was about 130 pounds, she carried a lot of muscle and she knew how to punch.

I had 70 pounds on her back then, and I have no doubt that in a real fight between me and her she could have and would have pounded me flat. Neither of us had ever laid a hand on our son in anger before, but something broke in her that day. All the years of anger and pain and sorrow and frustration just came pouring out. When she hit him, his head snapped back and blood started pouring out of his nose.

He hardly reacted; he just looked at her with this shocked expression like he didn’t know how to process what had just happened. She waited another second. And then she hit him again. I could have reached out and stopped her again. I could have dragged her out of the room, taken her away, and calmed her. I didn’t. I just stood there and watched while she systematically started to pound him to a pulp.

Every time he brought his hands to cover one part, she would blast him somewhere else, body, head, body, head, over and over. He started screaming, crying out, yelling for her to stop. It’s the most genuine reaction I’d ever seen him have to anything in his whole life. But she wasn’t stopping. I watched her ramping up, hitting harder, faster, working him like a heavy bag.

He tried to swing at her and she slipped him easily. She was on autopilot, sinking down into her training. I stood there watching for a minute. Then I turned my back on them and took my daughter out of the room. I brought my daughter to the kitchen and gave her a bath in the sink. I found that he had cut her a third time on the sole of her foot.

All the cuts were superficial. I cleaned her up and held her until she calmed. I put Polysporin and Band-Aids on her cuts. In our bedroom, I could hear my son screaming, calling my wife horrible names, telling her he would cut her head off and things like that. After a while, I didn’t hear him saying anything anymore, and didn’t even hear him crying out.

I assumed that he must have been knocked out. But I could still hear her beating him. That went on for a long time. Long enough for my daughter to drift off to sleep in my arms. I just sat at the kitchen table waiting for her to finish. Finally, she came out and sat down across from me. Her hands were swollen and red. Her face and arms were splattered with blood.

Her chest was heaving. We just stared at each other without saying anything. After a while I asked her, “Is he gone?” She looked back at me and answered, “I hope so.” I nodded. That was all there was to say about that. I understood how she felt perfectly. I felt the same. I didn’t know what to do, so we just sat there waiting silently.

Eventually, my wife started crying and went to go take a shower. I just stayed where I was holding our daughter. After a long while, I heard moaning and sobbing coming from our room. It turned out that my son wasn’t gone. I went in to see how bad it was, and it was…pretty bad. I’ve never seen a more merciless beating laid onto anyone, before or since.

When my wife came out of the shower, I still didn’t know what to do about our son. I didn’t know whether to call the authorities or an ambulance, take him to the hospital myself, I honestly didn’t have any idea what to do. And then it came to me. After a while, I realized that I simply didn’t care what happened to him anymore, and we decided to just let him live or perish on his own.

There was an in-law suite in the basement that we had never really used, and my wife, my daughter, and I just moved down there. We simply ceded the top floor of the house to my son and locked everything down, separated our lives entirely. There was plenty of food in the upstairs cabinets, enough for a couple weeks or more, he had a washroom and bedrooms to use.

We had a washroom in the basement, a small kitchenette, and a separate entrance so we just stopped going upstairs. We just decided we were done with him. I figured we'd let his food run out and see what happened. Over the next week we could hear him moving around upstairs sometimes. I think he just spent most of time lying in bed recovering.

I went to work, watching on high alert in case he attacked me in the driveway, but he never did. My wife stayed home with our daughter. She was never out of our sight. One night we heard him going ballistic, smashing things and banging. We didn’t respond. He never tried to get downstairs or get near us, though. I think he was afraid that if he got near us again, my wife might finish the job on him.

After three weeks down there, we hadn’t heard anything from up above for a few days, and I ventured upstairs to the main floor of the house. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The place was demolished, and there was no sign of my son. He was gone. It took months to repair the damage he had done and get the main floor back to normal again.

There was food and poop smeared all over the walls and broken glass on the floor, big holes in the drywall; he had ripped the place apart. He tore up the linoleum in a corner of the kitchen and emptied an entire foam fire extinguisher into the living room. I feel thankful that he didn't burn the house down with us in it, I'm honestly not sure why he didn't, since the kid wasn't shy about lighting things on fire.

After that, I lived in fear every day that he would come back, that he would ambush us out of the blue and try to hurt us. We moved houses about three years later and I finally stopped being afraid that he would show up again, as now he had no idea where we were. I finally felt safe from him. All this happened a long time ago. My son was born in the spring of 1971, my daughter was born in 1988.

I'm an old man now. I’ll be 70 this year and my wife passed from cancer in 2016. My daughter is 31 now, and I moved in with her and her husband after my wife passed. I’ve got two granddaughters and they are the joy of my life. I see a therapist a couple times a month to talk about all this. I don’t know where my son is. The last time I saw him was when he was lying on the floor of our bedroom, bleeding and smashed.

I haven’t heard from him since he left, more than 30 years now. I don’t want to. I carry a lot of guilt from that time, and a lot of conflicted emotions. I didn’t beat him myself, but I allowed him to be beaten, and I thought he deserved it. I was happy it happened. I didn’t try to end him, but I would have been happy if he passed. I will say that I do hope he was able to overcome his demons and go live a normal life somewhere.

If he wasn’t able to do that, if he stayed the way he was, then I truly do hope someone out there ended him. When I knew him he was a rabid dog, and whichever way it went I just hope he isn’t still out there hurting anyone else.

ConfessionsUnsplash

93. The Obvious Answer

My girlfriend told me that her grandfather's last words were a joke in response to his nurse. The nurse asked, "How do you feel?" He replied, "With my fingers."

Funniest Comments Anesthesia Patients Made factsShutterstock

94.  Your Secret Is Safe With Me

As a teen, I stayed the night at my best friend's house and slept in their guest room. I was woken about 2 am to the sound of her older brother arriving home intoxicated from a party. He saw me in the guest room and leaned against the doorway to say "Hi." He then stumbled down the hallway to his bedroom but never turned the hallway light off, and it made it difficult for me to get back to sleep.

So after about ten to fifteen minutes I got up and walked down the end of the hallway to the light switch. I turned it off and started walking back to my room when I briefly glanced into his bedroom as I walked past...I couldn't believe my eyes. His door was wide open and he was sitting at his computer with his back facing me. He was naked from the waist down, masturbating to what looked like a transgender adult film.

I must have made a noise because he swung around and saw me staring. Then I immediately and swiftly returned to bed and lay in the dark not able to get the image out of my mind. Five minutes later I heard him creeping down the hallway. I was like, "Oh God, here we go.” He looked so sheepish and uncomfortable. He stood in the doorway and apologized for what I'd seen and begged me not to tell my friend, his little sister.

I swore I'd never tell them and told him it's fine and to go back to bed. To this day they wonder why he hasn't got a girlfriend and they think perhaps he has a crush on me because he acts weird around me!

Chilling Confessions facts Shutterstock

95. What She Doesn’t Know…

I was diagnosed with cancer a little over two weeks ago, after a regular check-up. Turns out I have a tumor on my colon that has spread to other areas (liver and lungs so far) and will require extensive chemo and surgery for any chance to live longer than eight months. There’s just one problem. I'm not having any treatment, and I haven't told my wife.

Obviously, she'll only pressure me to get the treatment, which will result in months of pain and suffering for a relatively small chance of survival. Instead, I'm making sure our last few months together are filled with only happy memories. I'm starting work later and finishing earlier each day to make her breakfast in bed and take her on dates in the evenings.

My landlord who I rent my workshop from has agreed to let me run my business rent-free for the next six months, which means significantly less financial stress and I can save a lot more, so she has something to carry her over afterward. I hope she'll forgive me for taking this path.

ConfessionsPexels

96. Sharing is Caring

My father was recently diagnosed with cancer. After the initial surgery to remove tumors, he was very weak, in a lot of pain, and scared because for the first time in his life he wasn’t in control of what was happening to him. Let me preface the rest of this by saying he’s always been very selfish and only really does anything that either benefits him somehow or is convenient for him, including being a parent. We were raised by a single mother for most of our childhood, and then got an awesome step-dad from our middle-teens to current day.

My father has always told my brother and I that we aren’t getting any inheritance and that he’s going to spend it all before he dies. He’s been a bachelor for 30 years, so he has no spouse either. We’ve always said that it was fine, to not give him more power over us and it is his money so he should spend it how he chooses.

So my dad is in the hospital, thinking he’s going to die any day, so he calls my brother and I and says he’s realized that he doesn’t need to be in a pine box before giving us anything. He’s going to give us each a chunk of money and watch us enjoy it before he dies. Now, this money did come with strings—we had to tell him what we were going to use it for and he had to approve.

We both talked about doing some home improvement. This was met with approval. He never said how much we were going to get, but the ideas he was throwing out there were pretty high dollar, a new pool for my bro, new floors and windows for me, so our eyes were kind of popping. It was very generous, and in my case, potentially game-changing, as I really do need both and am in no position to afford either.

Fast forward two weeks and all the tests came back. He had a very treatable form of cancer that was caught early and he had an excellent prognosis. Both my brother and I flew to where he lives to care for him after he got out of the hospital and started chemo. He sat us down and said something to the effect of, “Now that I’m not dying, there are still some things I want to do, so I’m not giving you any money.”

Totally his prerogative and his money, and totally in keeping with his personality. But still, oof.

Paranormal Mysteries FactsUnsplash

97. He Deserved It

I had been at my first job in high school for a couple of years. Some new kid came in and told a bunch of lies to the owner about stuff I had apparently “done at work.” I wasn’t questioned, just let go immediately. I was so angry, I immediately started plotting my revenge. On the kid’s next shift my best friend and I went and placed large nails up against all of his tires so when he drove forward they would go right into his tires.

I heard he had to replace all four. That was 20 years ago and I still have to side-eye when I see him around town.

Chilling Confessions factsShutterstock

98. Putting It Off

My ex and I divorced six years ago. It was an ugly divorce, and our sons are now nine and 13. We live two miles apart and we get the kids one week on, one week off. After the divorce, we had no real meaningful relationship other than talking about the kids, scheduling and stuff. I had no idea or interest in her personal life and she was the same with me.

This last year, she started acting strange. She started being more chatty and friendly with me, but I still wasn't interested in having a social relationship with her. On Monday, I picked the kids up from school for my week with them and she texted me around 8 pm saying how I was the only person who she trusted 100% with the kids and I was a great dad and she thanked me for it.

Then she told me to tell the boys that she loved them. That was weird because she would call my eldest to say goodnight every night that they were with me, but didn't on that night. I drive by her place on my way to work and noticed her car was still parked on the street, but assumed she was working from home or sick. I should have seen the signs.

I had texted her in the morning about picking up my son's school book that he left at her house, and hours had passed with no reply. That was very strange because she would reply within minutes if it had something to do with the kids. I started to grow a bit worried and called her. Again, I know nothing about her social life, so it wasn't like I could call her friends because I don't know any of them and her parents live out of state.

I left a voicemail telling her that if she didn't call or text me back by 2 pm then I was going to her house to make sure she was okay. I left work early and went to her house. There were packages at her door, which was another red flag. She would never leave packages unattended outside. I called, texted, and knocked at the door and there was no response.

I let myself in and called out for her. I wish I could unsee what came next. I went into her bedroom and saw her body with a large bloodstain on her shirt and something that looked like a phone in her hand. That wasn't a phone. She had shot herself in the heart. I called the authorities and they questioned me for three hours and told me they would reach out to her parents as I was no longer next of kin.

I had to pick up my kids and kept a stone face as I was still processing the situation. On Wednesday, my eldest started complaining that his mom was not replying to his text messages and demanded that I take him to her house, which is still all taped up. He thinks she's ignoring his texts or that her phone is broken and wants to tell her to fix it.

I asked to speak with his principal in private and told him that he would be missing school next week. He asked what in the world could be so important that he should miss a week of school. I told him about his mom, and explained that I haven't told him yet. Meanwhile, her mom has been calling me constantly asking to speak to the boys.

I told her I haven't told them yet because things have been moving too quickly. My eldest is picking up that something has happened and now the nine-year-old is picking up vibes too. My 13-year-old is demanding that we go to his mom's and even threatened to ditch school if I didn't do it. The nine-year-old wouldn't let me drop him off at school and had a meltdown.

I decided to tell them what happened next week because I am not prepared to deal with the madness coming my way.

ConfessionsPexels

99. Ready To Go

My grandfather had a couple of inoperable embolisms that were going to kill him at some point, and doctors told him that he'd know it when the time came. One of them ruptured a few years later and he was taken off to the hospital where they confirmed there wasn't anything they could do for him and it was only a matter of time.

He told them since he was dying anyway he was going to keep his pants on because hotel smocks suck and he was dying and they couldn't make him. He passed out for a few hours and we all thought he was gone until he sat up, looked around, and said, "What am I still doing here?” He went back to sleep and passed shortly afterward.

Deathbed Confessions factsShutterstock

100. Amazing Grace

My great-grandmother passed in July at 105. She had really bad dementia, so she never knew who I was and barely remembered her own kids. She lived in a nursing home for the last fifteen years of her life and the last five of those years she became a clairvoyant. She would sing amazing grace when she could tell someone was about to die, it was the craziest thing, because the nurses at the nursing home said that it would happen literally every time.

The most chilling part about it is she sang it one day and no one croaked, but she passed out a couple of hours after singing and then expired later on that night.

Doctor Visits Took A Horrible Turn factsShutterstock

101. Into Thin Air

I’m a 26-year-old girl. When I was young, a stranger from school posing as my dad’s friend picked me up. He was saying that he would drop me off at the airport to catch a flight with my dad. Not only did I actually have to travel with my dad that day, but this man somehow knew my dad was getting off early from work, which he’d told me that morning, and that he had to go fishing with his friend.

This man told me that my dad sent him to pick me up and meet him directly at the airport. I believed him, convinced my teachers I knew him (because I was excited to go the airport) and left with him. I was held in captivity for three years. Eventually, 11-year-old me learned to make him trust me. It started with us going around in his car, although I had to sit in the backseat and stay quiet the whole time.

He let me come into his kitchen and make food for myself, and then he let me clean his house. The day we went to feed the ducks at the park, I ran. I ran as fast as my weak legs could carry me. Because of the crowd, I think he lost me. I begged a family for help, telling them I was kidnapped and I wanted to go home. I told them my name, my school's name, and my parents' names.

Long story short; they caught him, and he offed himself. I was back with my dad, my sisters, my dogs. I'm now happily married to my wife of four years, still undergoing therapy. I now have a good job and a baby on the way.

ConfessionsPexels

102. Locked Secret

I lived with my aunt in 4th grade and she had a neighbor that lived downstairs so they had a shared backyard. The rule was to always make sure the latch is closed on the gate so the dog doesn’t get out. I always made sure to lock it. One day I forgot. The dog got out and was eaten up by my neighbor's massive dog. I blamed it on the neighbor.

She cussed him out and would badmouth him any chance she could. I was too scared to tell her and she still doesn’t know.

Scary After Dark FactsUnsplash

103. All About The Money

During the summers when I was growing up, my parents would often leave my brother and me with our aunt and uncle who lived out in the country. It was great as they had four sons of ages close to ours so we had a lot of fun doing kids' stuff. One summer when I was eight years old, my oldest cousin was maybe 16. We somehow got talking and he asked me if I wanted to sleep in his room that night. Bad idea.

He has the nicest room and bed so I was all for it. I got into bed and he asked if he could touch my dick. I was young and just thought it was okay, so I let him. He rubs it for a bit and then asks me to do the same to him. So I do. This progresses and eventually, I'm sucking him off. I think I knew this was wrong so I said I didn't want to carry on.

We stop and I go to sleep quite confused. I wake up the next morning and he hands me some money and tells me to never tell anyone about what happened. The next night he tries to do the same thing. Now all I cared about was the money. So I do it. But that wasn't even the worst part...This carried on for two summers. Eventually, I got old enough to realize it was quite wrong regardless of the money and stopped.

I've never told anyone about this. He is now married and has two kids. I'm also married and we see them sometimes at family events. I don't have the balls to even try and talk to him about it. I'm not even sure what I would say to him.

Customer Service FactsFlickr, Marco Verch

104. We’ll Have Some of What She’s Having

My grandma said some pretty funny stuff while she was on painkillers after brain surgery. My aunt jokingly asked her who her favorite child is and my grandma said and pointed at my mom without missing a beat. Then she told my aunt that the purse she gifted her for her birthday was hideous and that nobody needs that many zippers.

She made some fairly inappropriate remarks to the doctor as well, she was really cracking herself up. By the end of the first day, we'd all stopped asking her questions that we didn't want to know the answer to and everyone was wishing they had a bit of whatever she was on to get through the rest of the week.

Make You Smile FactsShutterstock

105. Nature’s Calling

This is when my grandfather passed. We knew the time was near. Hours rather than days. He started telling a story in labored breaths. It was an analogy of how becoming a good person is like making a pie. We called everyone to his bed. It's time we all thought. I won't go into the details of the story but it ended, he closed his eyes. It was quiet. We were all watching his chest to see if he was still breathing.

We knew the time had come. We all held hands around his bed and said a prayer. He then whispered something. We couldn't understand what he was trying to say and asked him to repeat himself. In a somewhat annoyed tone, he said, "I've got to go poop!" We laughed it off and a few of us assisted him with his needs. He passed early the next day. I think those may have been his last words.

Hospital Horror Stories FactsShutterstock

106. No Show

My wife's grandmother, who raised her, believed that when you are about to die your deceased relatives show up to escort you to heaven. She was by all accounts a horrible person. On her deathbed her last words were, in a quiet terrified voice, "They're not coming."

Deathbed Confessions factsShutterstock

107. Wear Your Hard Hat Kids!

I had a co-worker "Larry" who was in a job-site accident. Basically, he was underneath some scaffolding when it was backed into by a vehicle and collapsed on top of him. He was pinned down, couldn't feel his legs, and was bleeding from a head wound. Larry was 100% convinced he was going to die. We were trying to pull the scaffold off and render first aid and all that, and he kept asking to use a phone to call his wife "Suzie."

Our supervisor gave him a phone. Larry called Suzie and confessed to everything. It was truly shocking. He admitted to having multiple affairs, looting from Suzie's parents, creeping on their neighbor's teenage daughter and doing coke with Suzie's sister. Larry was crying, telling her he was so sorry, begging for forgiveness. Turns out Larry was just pinned down by a couple of tubes and bracers that fell together just right and was tight enough to pinch a nerve and slow circulation a bit.

He got six stitches on his head and some bruises, and that was the extent of his physical injuries. However, he did lose his house, his pickup truck, custody of his kids, and half his paycheck to child support and alimony. Plus he got written up for not wearing a hard hat under scaffolding.

Deathbed Confessions facts Shutterstock

108. Parents’ Princess

In my grandma's last days, she requested that mum stay with her alone, and it was only then that she revealed the secret she'd been keeping for decades: She revealed that my mum wasn't her biological kid. My grandma confessed that she had bought my mum from a child trafficking ring, which was common in China, because she had tried for many years and still could not get pregnant. My mother cried a lot, not only for the unimaginable pain that her biological parents likely went through in losing a baby, but also for the fact that my grandparents have gone beyond to treat my mum as their little princess.

They literally did treat my mum as their own. They were never abusive and only gave her the very best in life. They even willingly sent my mum to the US for a university education even though they aren't rich by any means.

Deathbed Confessions facts Shutterstock

Sources: Reddit,,, , , 


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