rSlash - r/Offmychest My Crazy Mom Killed 3 People

Episode Date: June 30, 2025

0:00 Intro 0:10 Family tragedy 3:31 What gold 8:43 Affair baby 12:30 Enabler Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Welcome to r slash off my chest where OP's mom goes crazy and kills three people. Our next Reddit post is from Maybe I'm Being Cute. In 2020, my mom and sister died together in a locked apartment along with my mom's friend. They didn't die in an accident or from illness. They starved themselves to death, together in the middle of summer. My mother had developed paranoid schizophrenia, but the diagnosis came post-mortem on my request in desperation to get some answers. She believed my father was trying to harm them

and isolated herself and my sister from everyone. For one and a half years, they lived in fear, completely cut off. She also believed they could survive without food and water by absorbing energy from the universe. Her mental illness spiraled into something so extreme she convinced my sister to follow her. And she did. They were found about five days after their deaths, but the police had no exact day of their deaths because, of course, they didn't die at the exact same time, but hours or days from one another.

Three bodies, actually. My mother, my sister, and a delusional friend of hers who died with them. By the time they were discovered, they were in such a decomposed state that the police couldn't even identify whose body was whose. Not even by hair. That's how bad it was. We had to run DNA testing and dental records. Three dead bodies in the heat. Locked in. Door barricaded. I wasn't there, but my mind was and still is. I've never read the police reports. I've never read the police reports. I've never visited the place where their ashes are. I still can't believe they're gone.

And I feel this weird, almost sick obsession with the grotesque details. The smell, the state of their bodies, what the forensic team saw. Sometimes I google crime scenes or morgue cases because my mind is stuck there. I imagine what it looked like. I can't stop imagining it. I've built a life. I've run my own business. I've survived.

But I get triggered by things like rotting fruit. The smell. The texture. It all sends my body into panic. People ask me about my family and I smile and lie. They joke about crazy people and I laugh along. I've never told my clients. I've never written this down before, but it lives in me.

I feel guilty for not saving them, for the trauma the police and forensic workers had to endure. For my sister, who was 29 and could have walked away, but didn't, and sometimes, I just feel nothing. Just this heavy silence. If anyone else out there has lived through the kind of trauma that you can't put into words, if you've ever wanted to scream and vanish and be held all at once, I see you. Then OP posted an edit.

One of the most healing things for me after posting this was that I finally found peace finding out that there's an actual concept called Foli Diddu, which is shared madness or shared delusion. Even if only one person is suffering from actual paranoia and psychosis, it can spread onto others under right and unfortunate conditions. It makes me stop questioning things and finally finding peace with how and what happened. Thank you very much to those who brought this up to clarify and help me answer the biggest question of all. Why? Our next Reddit post is from designer Mangus. I'm a 30 year old woman and I've been with

my 34 year old boyfriend for two years. We moved in together six months ago and it was all good. We had an understanding that we would go 50-50 on chores and bills until we decided to have a child. Since I'd be putting my body, career, and life on the line, he would obviously need to make up for his lack of risk by contributing more around the house and monetarily. Because of this, I believe that we had an understanding on how we believe partnership would work. Two months ago, he got a slight promotion and pay bump, which meant we adjusted our cut of the bills to reflect that. But somehow, he comes to expect me to then take up the chores at

home. It started with small things that I knew he could do, like dishes and laundry, and escalated to sitting down all weekend watching me do my half and leaving his half of the chores to accumulate. He blamed it on stress and the added workload, but we're both corporate and work at our desks regardless. I'd be more understanding if his job was more physically demanding. It got to a breaking point when I noticed mold in the pots that he was meant to clean. If one of us cooks, the other cleans. He just kept the lid on it so I wouldn't notice. I needed to take a day off work to catch up on all the cleaning he neglected.

The last straw was when he came home without groceries despite it being his week. Usually, when either of us is too tired to do groceries, we let the other know in advance so we can at least order some food. I told him we need to add a cleaner to the bills if he's not happy doing chores anymore because I refuse to do them if he's not contributing fairly to. He made an excuse about not wanting a stranger in our apartment. I then said that we would need to begin ordering grocery deliveries for the extra cost too if he can no longer be bothered and he called me frivolous with money. So I suggested that I'd be happy to take up these responsibilities.

But it would mean that I drop my working days from 5 to 4, and I would expect to be compensated for the sacrifice that I'm making to my own career so he can focus on his responsibilities. Because apparently, they matter more than my own. And I would also expect to be paid an hourly rate for doing the chores at an average market salary for a housekeeper. He seemed so surprised and shocked that I would suggest that, and didn't know how to reply despite having an answer for everything I said before. I started to feel like he was trying to manipulate me into a situation that was more ideal to

him and less ideal to me. And if he loved me, he wouldn't be doing that. So I asked him if his friends put him up to this, because I knew they all struggled to keep girlfriends, and he said a proper woman would be happy to look after the house. And he called me a gold digger. I was shocked because I wasn't asking for designer items, I was asking for fair compensation for my labor, especially seeing as it would dent my own career to take on all this work. So I called him a gold digger for wanting a private chef and housekeeper for free.

I was admittedly angry at this point, and also told him to stop being so proud of his promotion if he was too broke to afford a chef and cleaner, and instead tries to manipulate the woman he loves into doing it for free. Not really for free, because taking a day off from my salary means I'll be paying for the privilege to clean up after him out of pocket. I told him he was dragging me down when we were supposedly meant to build each other up equitably. The apartment is his, so when he was ignoring me after the fight, I started packing.

He told me I would see sense, but I didn't bother. I started to feel embarrassed that I didn't notice that he was like this, and wasted two years to build up this letdown. As I packed my car, I said as much, and I told him not to contact me. I blocked him everywhere, and he's now sending our mutual friends messages and voice notes to forward to me. My friends have been mostly on my side, seeing him is a bit pitiful, and I can see that. One of the male friends we have in common mentioned that my boyfriend has been watching podcasts recently about masculinity, and I have a feeling this is where he got the idea to stall my future and put me under

his foot to only serve his dreams and goals. I feel angry the more I think about it. He loved the ideas of those podcast men more than he loved me. And now he expects me to feel sorry that he can't afford the rent without my contribution. But I believe he still thinks that I'm the gold digger for not accepting an unfair division of effort and labor. Also, OP clarifies that after they recalculated the expenses after the boyfriend's raise, it came out to he paid 80 euros more per month in utilities, but he also had an extra 400 euros per month

in extra disposable income. So overall, even though he was paying for more money, it was a huge win for the boyfriend. It seems like the increase in the male masculine podcasts has closely correlated to guys complaining about gold diggers, even though these guys have no gold to dig. Our next reddit post is from wickchick. So I just found out that not only did my husband of six years effing cheat on me, but he has a child with his mistress. How, you may ask?

Well, I work at the WIC office. For those who don't know what WIC is, it's the Women, Infant, and Children's Program. We provide nutritional education and supplemental food benefits to qualifying members. We're a government agency operating under local, state, and federal regulations. We use a program called Crossroads to manage our clients. This literally just happened this morning. And I'm not even remotely okay, and I'm not even really processing it yet. So this woman calls in and asks if she can sign up for WIC. She just had a baby. I say sure and start her a new family profile. I get her info in her baby's name. Part of setting up a profile is asking if the parent

wants to add a second parent or guardian to the profile. She says yes and adds my fiance. She gives me his first and last name and I'm thinking, hey, that's my husband's name, but he has kind of a normal generic name. I have to put in his birthday and she gives it to me. It's my husband's birthday. I'm thinking, coincidences happen. We have a telehealth system, so I tell her we need a photo of her ID and her fiance's ID to complete the verification process. Which isn't a total lie. We would need her ID the day of her and her baby certification appointment. She says she'll send hers first and get the fiance to send his and she would forward

it to me. It took half an hour for her to forward a photo of his ID. I tried to remain calm. It couldn't be him, right? Right? Well, I was wrong. It was him. It was his driver's license with the photo of him

in the effing Tommy Bahama shirt that I bought him for his birthday. My effing husband of six years. I've only worked for this county's Wick for a month after transferring in from another county and he's been having trouble remembering I switched offices. But you seriously hear that your side piece is talking to an office that's the same thing that your wife does and you don't stop to think rationally for a moment. I can't even breathe.

The baby is two weeks old. My husband's been out of town for three weeks on business, but I'll bet my whole salary he's been with her before, during, and after the birth. Bonding with their child. We've been trying for three years to have a baby. I've had half a year's worth of miscarriages. We have a healthy love life. We don't even close the door when we use bathrooms anymore. That's how married we are. He wiped my butt for me when I fractured my neck and couldn't twist far enough. I've shaved his back.

Anyway, I get off work at 5pm and I don't know what I'm going to do. My coworkers and my director know that something is wrong, but I just can't tell anyone yet. I'm humiliated. Our anniversary was last month. I posted this big mushy thing on Facebook. I feel like a damn fool. I wonder if his friends know, or his mom.

Am I the only one who doesn't know? This is the only place that I can just vent. I don't know what to do. I'm not the only place that I can just vent. I don't know what to do. I'm not even heartbroken, I'm just numb. I don't know too much about OP and OP's husband's financial situation, but I'm guessing the reason why the baby mama had to apply for WIC is because the man isn't giving enough money to provide food for her and the new baby. Because presumably he's spending a lot of money on OP. This post just goes to show you just because you're a father doesn't mean

you're a man. Our next Reddit post is from deleted. My wife has a terrible past that includes drugs and intercourse. She recovered, went to meetings regularly. We started dating and soon we were married. She's always had a very high libido. One night, about 8 months ago, we got drunk and I saw her wild side. We did things that I'd never done before. It was crazy, fun, and exciting. We both woke up the next morning and felt great! At the time, I didn't think anything of it, but really, that was the first time she had gotten drunk since we were married.

It was just a one-night thing. A couple of weeks later, it happened again, then again, and again. We were both really enjoying it. Suddenly, she no longer had control of herself. I was having the time of my life, and didn't think for a second what I was doing to her. I started catching her in lies about where she was and what she was doing, but then we would make up and she would get drunk and we would have a night to remember. Next thing I know, I'm asking if she wants a drink,

hoping to engage her in something that I had yet to do. The day came that, I think, sent her over the edge. We were drunk and I asked her about bringing a third into our bedroom. She was against it. A week later, she was at a friend's party where it happened. She got drunk and brought a third home with her. She woke up the next morning full of regrets. We fought, regrettable things were said, and she ended up moving into her mother's house

for a while. A couple of weeks go by and things seem to be taking a turn for the better. She would spend the day at the house but still sleep at her mother's. One day I woke with an issue. I went to the doctors and found out that I had an STD. I knew that it had to be from her. I grabbed her phone and when I opened it she had sexually explicit photos of her and a few other guys and girls. Just right there, like she'd been looking at them before she set her phone down. I regrettably went down a rabbit hole and found her Reddit profile. Over the past month or so, she had been on a work trip where she would come home only on the weekends. I found out that on her work trips, she was sleeping with her co-workers and strangers from local bars.

I counted up to 25 people that month. She was out of control. I confronted her about it. I told her mother about it. And her mother had recently caught her with a date that her mother had brought home. Her mother knew this and said nothing to me about it. Just, she's going through some things and we're working on it. I love her. I played a big part in screwing her up again. I ruined both of us for my own pleasure. I want to be there for her, but I don't think I can look at her the same way ever again." Then OP added an edit. I want to add because the alcohol seems to be a real sticking point in the comments that she was never completely sober.

Since I've known her, she's always drank alcohol, even when going through addiction therapy the first time before me. She always had to drink for dinner, or would have three or four with friends or family at a party or at a barbecue. It was only when she got drunk the first time around me that the switch flipped. I mean, when I met her and found out that she was a recovering drug addict, we were at a bar with mutual friends drinking. This relationship is clearly doomed. She has some issues that she's not even close to working her way through, and OP was just enabling her issues. OP, I don't know what you expected. You basically gave drugs

to a drug addict. That was r slash off my chest, and if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.