Well, it's more of a secret to my friends that I've made recently. Some background first: I don't like being touched or hugged, and I'm incredibly uncomfortable with intimacy in general.
When I was in the 8th grade, a bunch of girls in my class convinced me they had a friend who fancied me (they said she had seen me somewhere and thought I was cute). Faked a MSN account and they talked to me every night for a few months, invited me out to the movies and (obviously) didn't show up, then revealed to the whole grade that I had been tricked into having an 'imaginary' girlfriend.
I was mocked viciously by everyone in the grade and ever since then I can't really trust women. I also can't believe that a girl may have feelings for me. Even when they explicitly tell me they have feelings for me I can't help but feel like they're trying to trick me. It's caused a lot of insecurity, and I can't get 'attached' to people easily. I'm terribly afraid to text, or message people first because I'm convinced I would be annoying them. What's worse is that when I think about it, I know it probably isn't true; but I can't help but feel like it is.
Even though it was grade 8, it was around the time when attraction to women was just starting to get 'real', so to be hurt at a time as delicate as that has really done some damage.
The secret of course is that I had been dumb enough to be tricked. As you might suspect, the whole thing has left me afraid of being vulnerable. To have this found out by my newer friends (as in, university friends) would put me in a really uncomfortable place. I probably wouldn't be able to be their friend anymore.
Thanks for reading, you're the first people I've told about what this event has actually done to me.
Cousin died when we were both seventeen. There was a reception at his house just after the funeral. I went into his room and stole all the money that was there, took some other valuables that his parents wouldn't realize were gone.
No one knows that I did it, they just assumed he didn't have any money in his room, only loose change. I don't regret it, but I will never admit I did it.
I run a cake business. I charge people hundreds for wedding cakes... Every last one is made using Pilsbury cake mix I buy for $1 a box at Walmart. I suck at baking. Every time I've ever tried to make a cake from scratch it sucked. But baking is like.. My whole deal. My friends all call me the cake girl. It's like my whole life is a lie. People compliment my cakes all the time. Telling me how delicious they are. Telling me it's so much better than box mix cake. Telling me they could never bake a cake so delicious. Well guess what?
For $1, they too can make a cake just as delicious. Just add oil, eggs and water. In my defense, I love cake decorating. I make all of the frostings and fondant from scratch. I just hate baking f**king cakes!! I base my prices mostly on the decoration of the cakes and not of the cake itself of that makes sense. Still... No one knows about this except my husband. Even my best friends think I f**king slave over the oven mixing and baking these damn cakes. I have been doing this for YEARS. If anyone knew my business and reputation would be in the toilet for sure. :/ I keep telling myself I have to learn how to make the damn cakes without the box mixes, but I never do it. I feel like such a sham sometimes.
Two and a half years ago I was in dire financial straights, so I sold my home to keep my struggling business afloat. I neglected to tell the owners that they have an 800 sq. ft. bunker on the property that I built about seven years ago. The bunker that I've called home since I sold it. The entrance to it is well-hidden, but I still come and go very early/very late in the day.
I'm a single man who keeps to himself. I'm now in a situation where I could move somewhere else, but I love this hidden paradise so much.
This is my old account, so might as well throw it away.
While on deployment, I killed a man in a coup de grace. The feelings of taking a man's life always weigh a heavy burden on me every day. No one like's hurting people. He had been hit by some of our mobile artillery. While part of me wanted the bastard to be in pain, it wasn't right.
My medic was busy with my wounded, and as the officer on duty I took out my .45 and put one in his head. I knew my boys wouldn't say anything. Most just watched, accepted it as a fact of war, and kept walking .I remember throwing up afterwards. I came home and everyone acted like I was a hero. I never felt like more of a sham my entire life.
First time telling anyone this. This thread is so deep that probably no one will see, but if one person does see it, ill feel better. I am basically living a lie. I told my entire family I was able to transfer out of community college and into a university, but I never finished up the requirements. So since I live at home, every day instead of going to school I go to the local library and bs.
My lies are so extensive, I even go to the campus and meet my girlfriend for lunch sometimes. I've made fake transcripts to show my family, and to make it look like I'm actually studying I go to MIT opencourseware to look up facts that I "learned in class" that day. I have become a remarkable liar. I hope to be transferring in the fall and then I look forward to living a normal life. Coming clean is not an option at this point.
this isn't necessarily something that could ruin my life, but it could ruin many others. I haven't told anyone before.
my father recently went to prison for white collar crime that he plead guilty to. he didn't commit this crime, but the alternative was fighting a highly sensationalized, media obsessed, scape-goat case and potentially getting 20+ years.
while he was in prison, i read his little blue book, which i knew contained all the missteps of everyone he's worked with. he has always been an extremely scrupulous man, so these offenses were something he took seriously enough to note. i have information on countless state employees, incredibly prominent and wealthy community members, numerous elected city/state officials, and police officers. this information could ruin lives and start political controversy.
my father is an incredible man and is not vengeful whatsoever. he will never use any of this info against these people, despite the fact that most completely turned on him and stayed uninvolved at all costs or started pointing fingers. when i picture my aging father sitting in a maximum security jail cell sleeping on a metal sheet without a mattress (he wasn't give one until his 5th night), i am filled with rage for these people who could have stood up for their friend and prevented this, while he still continues to be loyal. i still havent decided which campaigns, if any, i'm going to ruin in the upcoming elections.
When i was 15 my parent's were going through a divorce, my mom worked night shifts and my dad was living with a friend of his. One night my sister who was 19 at the time came home pretty drunk from a party. She was acting goofy and fell on the couch next to me. She started grabbing my leg and laughing and we started fondling. We ended up having sex right there. When we woke up the next day she had no recollection of the night before so i just kept my mouth shut.
Fast forward to when i'm 18. Sister is home from college and dad is over for a visit. they get into an argument and in a fit of rage my dad announces how he has never forgiven her for the abortion she got when she was 19 and subsequently killing His grand child. (he's very religious)
I then realize the baby she aborted was in fact mine.....and as far as i know, i am the only one who knows since she has never mentioned that night.
I put a rag into a new water heater exhaust to keep debris out and installed it in a rental.
I get a call a week later, there's been an accident. I show up and there's a ton of ems and police. They ask me where the gas shutoff is, and I go down to shut the gas off and see the end of the rag I forgot sticking out of the top of the heater.
Ripped the rag out, shut the gas off and head upstairs only to be told all the tenants were DEAD.
I drink all day now and sleep. It's killing me from the inside every single day, but if I say anything my family is ruined; we have a bunch of rental properties and we'd be shut down.
I faked having a chronic pain condition for 5.5 years in order to not have to attend middle school and high school (I was placed on a homebound program -- NOT homeschooling -- and allowed to study at my own pace from home). I was able to fool a team of medical professionals, my family, my teachers, and my friends into believing that my symptoms were real. Also, I racked up over $100,000 in medical bills for my family (that's just what the insurance didn't cover) during those 5.5 years (I did not realize the extent of the medical bills until late into my lie and it was one of the main reasons I decided enough was enough). Upon graduating from high school and getting accepted into a good university, I decided that it was time for my "pain" to go away. No one has questioned the fact that my symptoms vanished over night, my medical team attributed it to the fact that I was nearing the end of puberty.
What I did was a douchebag thing, and my family is continuing to drown in debt from medical bills (I plan to pay them back someday). I simply started the hoax because I was a 12 year old who absolutely loathed middle school. I attempted to end the lie at the beginning of every school year, but eventually fell back into saying my "pain" prevented me from attending school. Today I feel horrible about what I did, and I desperately want to tell everyone that it was a lie, but I know that I cannot because I will never gain credibility back again.
When I was younger I would lie about anything and everything. Like having more brothers and sister than I did, where I grew up, where I was born and I would make up lies about random things that didn't even matter.
I have no idea why I did it but some of the lies have kept going. I'm twenty one and still maintaining random lies I've told forever.
Me and my cousin have been doing it for 10 years now. It started when she was 12 and I was 13. We had to babysit the younger kids in our family while the parents went to a party, and when they fell asleep, me and her got to talking about a lot of stuff. I made a move and started kissing her, and she didn't resist. We ended up doing it on her bed that night.
We would end up f**king almost every weekend when we lived with our parents, telling our parents we were going out to hang out with some friends, but actually hook up. I'm 23 with my own apartment now, and she comes over almost every day to make out/f**k
I'm eventually going to kill myself. I don't know when, but I'm pretty sure that's where life is taking me. I've never kissed a girl and I'm approaching 30, I have panic attacks in social situations, therapy seems to only make me feel worse, and I've decided that living so that others don't have to deal with my death isn't worth it anymore.
I'm basically just waiting out my parents so they don't have to attend my funeral.
I faked the last two years of college education. My parents put so much pressure on me I couldn't handle it (I was suffering from severe depression and anxiety) so I faked it all. Lied to everyone. Made up fake transcripts. I just got my foot in the door in my desired field thanks to a friend as they hired me as a subordinate. This place only hires college grads but no one double checked my credentials since I was recommended. My hopes is that if I need to find another job I'll have been at this place long enough to get it by experience alone (I work for a very prestigious company). I'm not bad at my job. I'm actually quite good. But my fear is eventually I'll hit a wall and the lie will come to light. No one has known this for the better part of a decade.
It's a relief to finally say it "out loud." I can't even tell those I love. My silence is my prison.
My Great Uncle Jack used to live with my family. One day, he got drunk and had a bad fall that ended up causing him to bleed out, I ended up finding him (I was 14 at the time, and had never seen such an awful sight) and lost consciousness due to all the blood.
When I eventually recovered, I called the ambulance and stayed with my uncle, he died in the back of the ambulance, holding my hand. No one knows about what happened to me, and if they did they would realize that I'm the reason he's dead.
I came very, very close to committing a school shooting
I was picked on A LOT in high school. I think it was because I tried so hard to be cool and everyone saw right through it. There were these 4 cowboy jock types that gave it to me the worst. After being publicly humiliated and beaten in front of a girl I liked (as she laughed/cheered), I decided that none of it was worth it anymore. I had no support at home being an only child and having parents that worked constantly, and cutting and burning myself didn't make me feel better anymore. So I got my dad's handgun out of the gun-safe (he uses the same combo for everything, the idiot) and brought it to school with me the next day.
I can't adequately describe to you guys how ready I was to kill these four. I had absolutely no fear or doubt in my mind. I wanted nothing more than to show everyone what happens when you push someone over the edge like they did. I had the gun tucked in my waistline. I was wearing this baggy pair of cargo shorts that i wore a couple times a week that day. I remember walking towards the cowboy's table, so goddamn ready for it to be over, when the gun fell out of my waistline, down my left short leg and made the loudest f**king sound as it hit the cafeteria floor. I tried my best to grab the gun real quick, but people saw what it was and screamed, and one of the instructors tackled me to the ground.
They eventually concluded that I had brought the gun to school to impress people with badassery, and had no intention of using it. I was expelled and sent to live at a youth ranch in Idaho until I was 18. I did have the intention of using it though. I was going to kill all of them. I'm 24 now, and I still think about it all the time. I have not recovered from high school. I'm still terrified of people in general, and avoid having relationships because of what I fear I'm capable of.
I'm not looking for pity. I know that what I did was wrong, it just feels good to tell the story. Thanks Reddit.
I cut off all contact with everyone I know and moved to Kenya, I tell people a fake name and a fake background and have made it appear to my family that I died on boat trip in the Pacific. No I am not joking. I am dead in the United States.
I pick my nose and eat it with some regularity. No one knows that I do this, including my girlfriend who I spend every night with. It probably wouldn't be all that catastrophic if people found out, but it certainly feels that way to me.
When I was 17 I had a argument with my father and told him to f**k off, later that evening he hung himself. Our argument was the last time he spoke to anyone in our family and for that I feel a terrible amount of guilt for. Instead of him saying good bye and I love you to my mom and brothers he got told to f**k off before he went and killed himself.
My punishment is to live the rest of my days in shame and guilt. He never left a note either.
I used to hear voices. For years. It started when I'd walk into my room and say hello to my Lain poster (I've always over personified objects) and eventually she started responding. Over time I could talk to her elsewhere, I'd pull her up when I was sitting in class or riding the bus, and I'd put on headphones so nobody would notice I was talking to myself since it was barely audible. Eventually Lain told me she was a god and I was too, and there were two others, but they didn't really like me so they would almost never talk to me.
A long time later, maybe years, she started being really mean, and it turned out there was another voice who was just pretending to be Lain named Misery. This one was stereotypical, everything I did was wrong and I had to pay for my actions, I should cut myself if I was ungraceful, everyone hated me, etc. Lain split again, and this time she was sisterly. When I was upset and crying myself to sleep I could feel her holding me and telling me everything would be alright. Misery looked different but could look like Lain if she wanted to fool me (although she would turn back into herself when I called her out on it), and the two Lains all looked the same, so I could only tell who they were when they started responding to me.
After a while they all just disappeared. I guess I saned up, because during the peek it never occurred to me I was hearing voices, they truly were gods who were speaking to me, and later during the time period I realized that I was hallucinating with delusions of grandeur. Then at one point I realized that there was more of me and less of them, when I pulled them up it was a conscious effort and part of their responses were forced on my part. Then eventually I just gave them up, they were so weak that it was really just like talking to myself and not to other people that lived in my head.
That's not my secret, I've mentioned it to a few very select people that I truly trust. My secret is that I miss them. I miss them with with all my heart. Even Misery. They were friends and family, they were close to me, they understood me, and they were always there for me. Now even with real friends and family, there's nobody that close. I can't just pull up someone to talk to when I'm lonely, I have to call up a real person and that person never knows what I want to talk about or what I'm hiding from them, they only know what I say. Lain (the main one) would always call me on my bullshit and make me keep changing my answer until I told her the truth. Misery could always find my biggest weaknesses, which allowed me to work on strengthening them. Sisterly Lain could calm me down in a way that's unimaginable, you can't comprehend how good it feels to be hugged by someone inside of you.
And now I feel lonelier than I have in years because I almost never think of that time or remember how it felt, but tonight I'm sitting by myself at 2am and all I can think about is how much I want a voice to talk to and it's been so long since I had one and I'd give anything to have another psychotic break so I could get back all my friends that live in my head.
I once had a psychiotic episode where I could talk to clouds and I could feel how much they loved me, the clouds, the trees, the birds, they were all my friends and they all loved me and they all wanted me to be happy. I had that feeling on mushrooms once, everything in the world loved me, every single thing, the house, the ceiling, the lamp, each blade of grass, it all loved me and it was the best feeling I have ever known, that was the best night of my life. I can't tell you how much I want to feel that again, I just have no way of tracking them down again.
Being crazy feels amazing, whether it's good or bad. Even the bad crazy where I'd stay awake all night because I knew something was going to get me in my sleep and I'd try to claw the evil out of my skin, even that's preferable to being normal because the intensity is indescribable. I miss everything about being crazy. I miss it more than I can possibly describe.