Snook - Disturbing Reddit Confession Threads

Episode Date: December 1, 2025

From the disturbing confession of joining a cult, to an eerie story of someone who almost abandoned their children, these are some Disturbing Confession Threads. I hope every OP in this video is doing better now. Would you like to see me make similar videos in the future? Leave your thoughts down below in the comment section, and make sure to like and subscribe! Consider joining the Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/SnookYT And yes, I'm a human voice. If your story or post was included in today's video and you wish for it to be taken down, please reach out to this email. [e-mail] NEXT SUB GOAL - 1,000,000 SUBSCRIBERS! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Everyone has done something they've eventually come to regret. Most people keep these moments buried. Some only ever share them with a close friend. And others, well, they post them on Reddit for the entire internet to read. From confessions of crimes no one ever discovered, to moments of betrayal that shattered relationships, to secrets people have carried for years. These threads reveal the side of humanity, most of us never admit out loud. Today, we're diving into some disturbing Reddit confession threads that might change the way you look at the people around you.

If you enjoy videos like these, make sure to like the video, subscribe to the channel. The channel's goal is 1 million subscribers. And without further ado, let's get into some disturbing Reddit confession threads. I got into my car and almost drove away while my kids slept. Two years ago, my ex-wife, Malani, 37 female, and I, 36 male separated. The divorce was a mutual decision made by the fact that she was cheating on me with a coworker and wanted to be with him.

We have five kids together, age 13, 12, 10, 8, and 6, and a cat. Based on several factors, she has weekly visitation and I have full custody of them, but doesn't ever show up for the visitation and seems to have given up on the children. I work as a teacher, an already exhausting job as it is. and I spend every minute of my day either with my kids or kids that aren't mine. Cooking and cleaning and breaking up fights and grading papers and then by the time the kids are asleep, the fucking still love them though. Cat wants attention and I want to scream from the top of my lungs.

I'm tired. I'm fucking exhausted. I can't do this. I'm working and taking care of six living, breathing beings, and I feel betrayed and I'm so, so tired. Last night I stood up and walked out of the house, got in the car, and started it. The kids were asleep and I sat there, in the car, five seconds away from driving away. I wanted to drive away.

I wanted to drive until I ran out of gas. And then I thought about my kids waking up and not having anybody around and I walked back inside. But I still want to run away. This morning I wanted to run away. I had to restrain myself from driving away while driving to work. I hate myself from being so quick to want to drive away from my kids. My kids who I love more than anything in the world were so quick to not have a father. This morning, while I was driving to work, I made peace that I wasn't going to drive away.

I wanted to veer off the road and into a ditch and die. I feel awful for this. I want to scream it from the rooftops. I feel awful, and yet I will know that I will fight the urges again in a few minutes when school lets out. and Jesus, man, that is insane post. I can only, I can feel the O.P.'s sadness and everything just from the post, but God, that is just such a heartbreaking, such a heartbreaking post. And, I mean, the O.P.'s name is throw away stressed die, which is unfortunate to hear. And the account has been banned, so we haven't been able to see if the O's P's made any other posts.

or anything and um wow that is that is truly so sad let's get into some of the top comments and see people's thoughts someone says she cheats and leaves the kids i cannot help but feel infuriated i forgot what i wanted to even tell you sigh you were one fucking amazing person and i hope that life pays you back for your awesome good deeds stay strong buddy someone else says replying to that saying not just that. Shouldn't O.P. take lots of child support and alimony from the ex?

Like she cheated and left the kids, O.P. should sue the ex with the most expensive, fucking divorce, make her pay for the rest of her life. And then that's a good point. I don't really know the ins and outs of child support

and stuff like that, but I mean, yeah, this guy was left all on his own with five kids. God, I can't imagine. And, I mean, all respect to teachers, but they don't have the best salary in the world. And to take care of themselves,

and five kids, I can only begin to, I can't even begin to feel what the OPE feels, the stress and the hopelessness. It's just a sad, sad situation in post. Someone else says, what a great confession. And I mean about the depth, truth and quality, not about the content. The content is heartbreaking. I'm doubtful I have much useful to say, but it sounds like you're doing right at the end of your tether. If these types of thoughts are starting to sneak in, then you might be reaching the limits of your emotional capacity to deal with the stress and hurt. These situations can lead to full breakdowns unless they're addressed. I don't know what support you do slash don't have, but if there's anyone in real life, you can lean on emotionally, then now is the time to do it.

If your work, church, or other local slash public slash affordable services, offer counseling, then do it for a chance you can. Even just one set. to get going touch base and maybe vent or cry you've got to take care of yourself a bit you're valuable and crucial in your own right even besides that if you fall apart entirely and your better judgment doesn't kick in next time the consequences could make things so much worse time to cash in those credits you need help now please find some if it is possible at all you have my prayers and sadly the OP did not respond to any of these comments and so what I'm guessing has happened

the OP was you know feeling emotional stress and just made this post to kind of cry out into the Reddit void or the internet void like a lot of people do and just never kind of came back but like I said the account was banned so there's no other post from the OP there's no comments from the OP at least that we can see. But I just hope the O.P.

Still around and doing well. And I hope his family recovered. And yeah, just such a depressing post and such a, you know, like the person said, such a deep confession and kind of like a good confession. But I really hope the O.P. pulled through, stayed strong, stayed a good, you know, father for his kids, a good teacher for his kids that he teaches.

and wow, that was intense. On to the next one. My parents and I caused her death. I hate them and myself for it. I honestly don't know, but I feel like I want to share this today. I've been staring at a bottle of cheap whiskey for far too long now. Anyway, this all happened almost six years ago,

and obviously the account is a throwaway. I use Reddit normally and I love browsing this sub, so I'm confident there can be some understanding here, or so I hope. So let's rewind the clock back six years to a time when my sister and I were 16. Which I could, huh? Anyway. My sister Jane was the sweetest person I've ever met. Well, I didn't think that highly of her at the time.

Besides being sweet to nice to almost everyone, she was a perfect tomboy. You know, short hair, boy clothes, interested more in cars and dolls, if you get my gist. This has all happened over a longer period of time. She started with the more boyish look when she was 13. My parents thought as a phase and told her to dress normally. After many, many fights they gave up and allowed her to dress that way. Those were some terrible few weeks. Many slaps, beatings, and a lot of yellings from my dad and constantly crying for my mom.

Now I know the reason was they didn't want their daughter to be seen as one of those freaks. My parents are not religious, at least not more than your average family. They never forced their beliefs onto us. I got into the atheism craze when I was in my early teens and they didn't care for it. Just told me not to tell people around a lot of her family as a religious. My dad was a police officer, pretty high-ranking as well. He loved his job and was quite liberal in my opinions, extremely inclusive of other races and whatnot. He was also really lax with the rules.

He often used. showed us his gun and all my granddad's estate slash farm, he told us to shoot with a similar gun while making sure we understand proper gun handling, care for the weapon, how to reload, not to put a finger on the trigger, and to never ever aim at someone. The issues of gay and trans people came up very rarely, but I remember someone on TV speaking about it, or maybe it was a movie, I can't recall. But both of my parents were disgusted just by the thought. This was when I was 11 or 12. I asked about it, like the curious little shit I was, and my parents explained to both myself and my sister about what a gay is and a transgender person is, and so on. The outright said

that those people are sick and should be in a hospital. Same like child lovers. We already had that talk about not going to people's cars, etc. Or murderers. My sister didn't really react, but I did jump on that. With my friends who made these dumb stories and included a lot of gay and trans characters getting killed or being locked somewhere in a prison. My parents praised me for being creative after hearing a pretty damn long story for a 12-year-old. Anyway, a year later, my sister started with the tomboy stuff, and I didn't think much of it, but fast forward two years. We're both newly 15, and it clicks in my brain.

Why my parents were so opposite to it and what my sister really was. She was transgender. I felt mad at myself or even thinking my own sister, could be something so vile. I asked her several times and every single time she told me to screw off or just refuted it. A few months passed and our relationship turned sour. We barely talked. I couldn't look at her and whenever I started talking, Jane would make every effort to leave the room as soon as possible. Then came a night. I was staying up late playing World of Warcraft after my friends logged off. I went to grab a drink from the kitchen. To go down the stairs, I always passed her.

room. I heard a sound. It was so strange, like a cry of a weird creature. She did my pants. I opened the door. I saw her crying on the floor. The sound was her trying to be quiet. For that short moment, everything was gone. I ran to her asking what happened, helping her up, sitting her down on her bed and giving her a hug. It was the first time we shared that after such a long time. She told me the truth. She was afraid, hurt, and trans. I don't think I've ever been more conflicted than in that moment. I hated that she was trans. I hated all trans people for infecting her with the virus, with the illness. But she was my sister. Someone I shared so much who was there for me when I was crying. I couldn't let go. And so I just held her.

and stayed there through the night. None of her words reached me. She fell asleep that morning, and because it was Saturday, I put a blanket over her and let her sleep. She slept until around 2 p.m. When my mom woke her up with a yell, she looked at me with red eyes,

mouthing, thank you. I remember that clear his day. After lunch, I told her I want to talk and that we did. I suggested we tell our parents that she is trans, and they can get treatment for her and she can be cured. That was the moment it all began to go downhill. My mom overheard, are you trans?

She screamed and called for dad. Jane kept silence, said they turned to me, asking if she admitted to it. I nodded. My father beat her behind with a belt, leaving a few cuts. They kept screaming, Jane kept crying, and I just stood there. Our 16th birthday came. Over the few months, I did warm up. to the trans people and read a lot online asked people and used a few forums and message boards to talk to

trans people my parents didn't want to hear a word of it though jane and i were both born on the 14th of february valentine twins i liked the date for two reasons it was like the whole world was celebrating my birthday i got a cake and a ton of gifts and just like every year i bought something small for jane This year I was conflicted, but I decided to buy one anyway. It was this adorable, huge teddy bear. Not your standard Valentine's one, but a proper and expensive teddy. And just like every year, our parents had worked the day after. I couldn't stomach it and gave Jane the gift on the 14th as I planned.

Even my parents didn't celebrate her birthday. Just mine. I thought what a great idea is to give it to her on the 15th when parents aren't there. I felt really bad for her, and so I wrote a letter. Try my best that proper cursive. It was a mumbling bees of how I still love her and parents don't understand. I ended it with. I'm glad to have you as my brother.

I remember writing those words, feeling kind of weird, but happy at the same time. After they left, I opened the door, but she or he wasn't there. I put down the bear and put the letter on his huge, fluffy head. I left the room and went to play World of Warcraft again, waiting for him to find it. I did hear the door to his room open and then close. I think it was almost an hour before a sound went through my headphones. A sound so loud, my ears were ringing. It took me a couple of seconds to put one and one together to realize it was a gunshot.

There was that thought of what happened. I don't want it to be true. I wanted to run, but at the same time, I wanted to avoid knowing but what if, so many what ifs. If I didn't play that fucking stupid game and just waited for her, God damn it. I opened the door, and he lied there, hugging that stupid teddy bear. That moment was the longest moment ever. I fell down and just fell.

I didn't even try to hold myself up. I ended up with a broken finger. After coming back to my senses, I called an ambulance. It was too late. It was my dad's gun. That's why he wasn't in his room. He was getting into his safety, get a hold of it. After a few days, I found an envelope with my name on it.

There was five 60-day cards for World of Warcraft for the Best Brother. A note right inside. It was his gift for me. It took my weeks to redeem them, but after I did, I made a character. Named him a weird version of Jay as he went by to his friends. In our last name. I played him for a long time before quitting. I wanted to commit Sward to join her somewhere.

Today, all those stupid hearts and celebrations are just a reminder of this. I'm sorry for rambling. I'm sorry for everything. And Jesus Christ, man. This was literally the most heavy post I've ever read in my life. Wow, that was just really, really. That was heavy. I really don't have a lot to say.

And at the end, the O.P. said, thank you all for your support and the gold and silver. You are all so sweet. Thank you. And then let's get into some comments. Someone says, this absolutely broke my heart. I'm so sorry for what you and your brother have gone through. Someone else says, I clicked the back arrow after seeing how long this post was,

but then felt like I needed to read it. Glad and sad that I did. My heart also breaks for you, O.P., but Jay didn't view you in the same light he viewed your parents. He loved you as much as you did right up until the end. I hope you find some peace in that. Someone else says, no, you're not guilty. You loved your brother.

You still love him. Don't hate yourself. Don't think about what could have been if he didn't play that game. I think you wouldn't have been able to stop your brother because he, I think, did it sneakily. I am mad about your parents. They should have been there for him. But instead, they stopped showing love to Jay. No, you're not guilty.

And your brother knew you loved him. You did not cause his death. And yeah, that is just such a heavy, heavy confession. I wouldn't even call it a confession because, like the Comptor said, it's not his fault. It really isn't, but yeah, I really don't have much to say, but, you know, checking on your friends, checking on your family. And there's always someone there for you, including myself. If you need anyone to reach out to, send an email.

to the email in the description. Yeah, I just want to make sure you guys knew that. No, you have the outlet because, yeah, if it just, there's a million options before that final and permanent option. Wow, this video got real, really quick. But, yeah, not to be too depressing, but, yeah, that was a heavy post. But, yeah, if anyone, if any of you need help,

Talk to a friend, talk to someone else, talk to family, whatever. But anyways, on to the next one. I haven't told my partner that I'm dying because I don't know how. She's excited to plan a life around mine and it's breaking my heart. Throwaway account. But there it is. The title basically sets the entire premise of this. I was recently brought up to speed on my condition and what the survival rate is for someone in my position.

Stage 4 cancer. spread throughout. It's next to zero, and I'm a realist, so my days are numbered to just a handful of years at most in some of the best case scenarios. I've been in a relationship with a woman who's been through a tremendous amount of painful losses and setbacks recently in her life. She's made it clear that I've gotten her through some very rough patches and that imagining a life with me has made it easier for her to move past those events and consider a future for herself. I don't have many regrets in life, and I consider myself very privileged to have seen the things I've seen, visited the places I've been, and loved the people I've loved.

It sounds strange, but I'm kind of ready. The only thing that is breaking my heart is that I have no idea how to break this to a person who has attached her orbit to a dying star unknowingly. I see there are a few questions about the diagnosis. I know this is the internet and folks are out to poke holes and stuff, but in the interest of spreading awareness for anyone who has experienced or has seen these symptoms, I'll elaborate as much as I can without getting too much into personal details.

This is the result of a regional recurrent melanoma that spread beyond the origin area. The original melanoma displayed irregular borders, dark pigmented regions contrasted with latter regions, and was removed with clear margins and follow-up P.E.T. scans showed no traces of meditasis outside of the local region. Bullet dodged. I went on attending regularly scheduled screenings with dermatologists for over a decade, up until I hit a rough patch in my life and stopped. Once you are diagnosed with a melanoma, you must, must, must adhere to a six-month

schedule of skin screenings to make sure there's no recurrence of separate growth occurring. A melanoma can spread incredibly fast compared to other cancers, so it must be caught very quickly within six months. Someone proven to be susceptible to melanoma should create a regimen for getting these screenings scheduled and adhere to them. Insurance won't always cover them, which is insane, but that's another thread. But the cost out of pockets without insurance should be around $250 to $300 USD. Budget for that. It sucks, but that's what you have to do. If you don't have the means to pay for the screenings, there are options such as the Spot Me program by the AAD that offer free skin screenings and consult. I fell into a period of my life where I lapsed in these

screenings. For just a tad over three years, I let them go by because I was alone, depressed, and didn't see the point. By the time I met someone who made me want to turn things around and get myself into shape and take care of myself, it was already back and had a head start. So please get yourself screened. And if you... ever been diagnosed with a melanoma or even a benign form of cancer, get yourself a screening schedule and please stick to it. Someone said, I'm sorry dude, fucked up situation. You should tell her soon though. Enjoy the time you got left together. If she knows it's limited, it will be more appreciated and memorable. Also, not to be a dick, but she should have the choice on whether she wants to

stick around. Don't decide for her. And then the O.P replied saying, You are absolutely not a dick, and all right, that's why I'm confessing. I'm ashamed. I don't have the strength of tell her. It's me that's the weak one. Not her. And God, just such a, such a rough and depressing situation. I mean, I just have to wish the best for the O.P.

But sounds like, you know, they don't have a lot of time left. And this was seven years ago. So, yeah, that's, oh, man, that's. That's, that can just give me goosebumps just thinking about because, I mean, most likely the OPE has passed now. If he said a couple of years, it's been seven years since this has been posted. Yes, it's disturbing. Wow, another really heavy post. Someone else says, you're not a dying star.

Till your last breath on this earth, you are alive. You have energy flowing through your body and you can do so much sharing your love, personality, and happiness to others. especially with your partner. The sooner they know about it, the sooner you both can enjoy the most of this life together, making every silly and mundane moment special just because you were there, breathing the same air,

living the same moments in time, and loving each other. So don't worry. It may be a shock at first, but you're both going to be okay. And then the OPEB replied to this saying, I love this sentiment, and it's in line with how I truly feel at the moment. I'm not scared, at least not yet. I just don't know how much I can.

can help her feel the same when she's already been through so much. I know what must happen. I know that she'll eventually appreciate being brought into the conversation about my end-of-life care, but I kind of also just want to move on and live her best life and not have to watch me phase out of mind while adding it to her list of people close to her that have passed early. I'm at 30s. I appreciate your words, though, and appreciate your outlook. It's very hard right now and looks to be a smidge harder after breaking the news. But hopefully, it gets easier for her. That's all I really want.

And then we haven't heard anything more from the O.P. Ever since. Yeah, that's just a really sad post. And I just, yeah, I mean, that's a good testament though. Make sure you go to the doctor. Get yourself checked out, especially, you know, your skin if you go to dermatologist, wear sunscreen, all that jazz.

But, wow. I guess just keep up with your health. It's very important. It's the only thing that, you know, keeps you living, obviously. But I wish the best for OP. I hope him is okay if he's still around or rest in peace. And I hope his partner is doing much better now. Sad story.

I joined a Colt when I was 15 using a throwaway account because I don't want this link to me in any way. I've never told this story to anyone. And I apologize if it's long-winded. There's a lot to unpack. My parents got divorced. divorced in 1978. I was 10 years old. They had joint custody of me, but I lived with my dad and only saw my mom a few times per year. My mom was, as my dad liked to say, a fruitcake. She was very religious, Ray Southern Baptist, but always seeking something stricter. Eventually, she fell in with

what she called a religious group, and my dad wanted no part of it, which was the catalyst of the divorce. There were other issues, but I won't get into them here. Five years later, my dad died in a car accident. I went to live with my grandparents after that, and I was there for about four months when my mom showed up. At that point, full custody was hers, and my grandparents couldn't afford to fight her in court. I thought I'd be okay with my mom. She was baddie, but I always figured she meant well. I packed my bags and said goodbye to my grandparents and my dog, Toby. My mom said dogs weren't allowed at the apartment. Oddly enough, saying goodbye to Toby was the worst. Dad gave me Toby shortly after he and mom got divorced, so I wouldn't be lonely.

He'd been my constant companion. The three-hour car ride with my mom was utterly bizarre. She couldn't listen to the radio because Satan sent subliminal messages through music. All musicians, celebrities, and politicians were agents of hell in her mind. She talked nonstop about the group she was a part of, how they had been praying the day would come when I would finally join them, etc. She acted like my dad had kidnapped me. When I mentioned she was the one who left, who never showed up, she calmly pulled the car over and slapped the ever-loving shit out of me. The rest of the trip went by in silence. I was stunned. I'd been swatted before,

but no one had ever hit me like that. This was the point I should have left. I should have opened the door and ran, but I didn't. I'm sure it will come of no surprise to learn that my mom did not live in an apartment, as she told my grandparents. We drove out to the middle of nowhere to the land the cult lived on. The house was old, but large, and on a sprawling plot of land. It looked like it had been a farm at one point. The cult leader came to meet us at the door. We'll call him Daniel.

Daniel was in his 40s and very charismatic. He was instantly likable for all of five minutes. My opinion of him changed when I learned that my mom and many others were his wives. So let me see if I can break this down. The woman were his wives. The men were his beloved. There were no children,

save for me and one other teenage girl. I wasn't privy to too much information. However, I was able to find out a few things. My mother claimed he was well connected and knew some powerful people, but for all I know, that could have been bullshit. It was difficult to trust anything mom said. Daniel told me his wealth came from a trust fund, which was probably true, and I discovered

that he had intimate relationships with the women in his cult. There was no TV, no radio, and no books. The only reading material was Daniel's version of the Bible, which he had typed out himself. There was a phone, but Daniel kept it locked in a safe. There were no cell phones, at all. It was 1983, and they weren't common like they are now. We were completely isolated from the world. Food was limited.

We ate a strict vegan diet and drank only water to keep our bodies pure. Menstruating women were regulated to the guest house and could not come back to the main house until they were clean again. Here's a rundown of our daily activities. Daniel would hold a daily sermon after breakfast. We kept the house clean and the yard maintained. We didn't have lunch. We would fast from about 6 in the morning to,

six at night. After dinner came, the evening prayers, and we were all in bed by 9 p.m. There were two couples that were actually married, but they were separated after coming to live with Daniel. When I questioned my mom about this, she said it was to keep the women clean and ready to receive Daniel's blessings. I'm sure you can guess what his blessing entails. There was a lot of emphasis on being clean. I tried desperately to talk to my mom, to get her to see reason. She claimed I was a heretic and took me to see Daniel. She left me alone with him. At first, he seemed like he was trying to be nice. He even gave me a Coke. Soto was a rare treat during my childhood, and I accepted it, thinking nothing of it. It had to have been dosed with something.

I remember feeling woozy. After that, all I can recall is waking up in my bed. I was very sore between my legs. I had been R-worded, and I had no one to turn to. There's more, but I was more, but forgive me. I don't think I can type it out. There's so much from this time I try not to think about. I was there for two long years. Toward the end of my time with the cult, Daniel's sermons started taking a weirder turn. He said the only way to be truly clean is to shed our mortal bodies and become spiritual beings. The already limited food became more sparse. We were fed vegetable broth and little else. We were deprived of sleep. He was wearing us down and preparing us to die. He kept us exhausted, starved, and malleable. I did eventually escape. I did my time. I earned Daniel's

trust and I was eventually given permission to drive the cars for errands. Daniel would send us some pairs. The day I escaped, I drove to a grocery store with one of the female members. It was raining and I was able to convince her to let me drop her off at the entrance. She agreed. I sped away once she was out of the car. I kept going until the car ran out of gas. I was able to reconnect with my grandparents and Toby too. They wanted to press charges against Daniel and my mother, but I begged them to let it be. I was so scared. We were stocked by members of the cult for a while, but after threatening to involve the police,

they eventually gave up on me. I didn't know where the house was, nor could I provide tangible proof of what happened to me. So there was no point to get involved in a lengthy legal battle. I'm in my 50s now. I have two children, and I am married. My family has no idea what I went through. All they know is that my parents died when I was young and I lived with my grandparents.

As for the cult, I was able to find Daniel's house using Google Maps. I found the town they did their shopping in and then I just looked around the surrounding area until I found something I recognized. The layout of Daniel's land is forever burned to my memory. From the satellite images, it appears abandoned. I don't know if the members went through with Daniel's plan

or if they just up and left at some point. Thanks for reading. I can't say I feel better, but it helps to know that someone else knows what I went through, even if it's anonymous. And then I look through the comments and everyone is just kind of commending the O.P. For getting out of there.

And I agree. I mean, this is an insane story, especially back in the, you know, early 80s or mid-80s. When this happened, I mean, there was a lot of colds going on during that time. So it does kind of line up. I tried to go to the O.P.'s profile and I couldn't find anything. So I guess we'll just have to take the OPEs word for it.

But very, very interesting post. And, I mean, it's pretty rare to find a, I joined a cult post. And I mean, this isn't like a conventional confession. Like I did something, but I guess the O.P did join a cult when they were younger. But a very terrifying post and a very terrifying story. I'm glad the OPs, you know, much better now.

Sounds like they're much older in their 50s now. But, yeah, there's been, No update. The OP didn't respond to any of the comments or any of the questions in the comments. So, yeah, we have really no answer. But this is a very, very interesting post. On to the next one. I hate my brain damaged sister. I can't believe I'm actually typing this out. It's making it feel very real.

And before you say it, I know, I know. I am probably one of the worst human beings on this planet. Around a year ago, my oldest sister, 27, widowed mother of two boys. boys, 8th and 5, decided to, against every single warning made, get drunk as shit and wreck her car into a rock embankment outside of her town. She was life-flighted to a ICU and spent weeks in a coma and awoke in a vegetative state. In the past year, she has slowly began to see some progress. Because of this accident, I was forced to quit my job, leave my friends, move across the country, and back in with my parents to help take care of her and raise my

nephews. I love them dearly, but I've never wanted to have kids, especially not forced upon me like this. She has the mind of a child now, argues about silly things, can't cook for herself, cries over everything, can't read, memory loss, partially paralyzed on her right side, has aphasia, and a list of other problems with her as her caregiver. She tells me how happy she is to be alive after such a bad car accident. I want to scream that I wish she would have died. Her boys are a wreck after losing their dad recently, and now having a fucked-up mom. My parents are spending all of their retirement savings for her treatments. I can see the years being shaved off my dad and mom from the stress. I don't treat her any differently. I still tell her stories and laugh with her

and do my best, but I hate the way I feel when I look at her. Did you even think about your boys when you got in that car? She is smiling and completely ignorant to the pain she has caused in my entire family. So, I guess that's it. That's my confession. I have a deep, dark hatred and resentment for someone I love. And I will never let her know. Edit, I am a female, by the way, and some people have said pretty horrid and cruel things, and I totally get it. But I already feel pretty fucking shitty about my feelings, so you can't really make me feel any worse. Everyone else, thank you so much for the support, advice, and feedback. I have read. read and appreciated every comment.

A lot of the medical and health care advice I will be talking to my parents about and hopefully the financial parts of this can be helped a little bit. Thanks guys. Much love. And now let's get into some of the top comments. Someone just says damn. And then someone else

replies saying, that's exactly what I said. That's all I can say. Damn, damn, damn. Someone else says, damn is right. That is hell. And sucks. You are not a terrible person, you are a selfless person, and have given up so much for your family.

There has to be some life for you. Is there respite care so you can get away? A plan for when the kids are older, maybe? And then the O.P replies saying, Mom keeps talking about me adopting them eventually. The thought terrifies me. Someone else says, I can relate in a way. My sister is a junkie and eventually landed her ass almost down the hospital.

When I went, I thought I'd cry. I thought I'd be scared and sad. I looked at her, full of tubes and breathing with the help of machines. And I just wanted to slap her and scream, you did this. It was weird to feel so angry at someone I was supposed to love. The anger didn't subside. I didn't feel an ounce of empathy or compassion for her. At that point, she really lost custody of my nieces.

And like your parents, my mommy has a lot of her retirement taking care of young children. when she should have been finally relaxing and enjoying her life without kids. She mostly recovered and immediately went back to H. Now she leeches off my mom, and my nieces ended up living with her dad. They lost yet another bit of stability because of her. It's a terrible thing, isn't it? Hating someone that you're supposed to love and support?

It's been a year since the hospital, and I'm still trying to figure out how to live with this deep contempt and revulsion for someone that became my best friend the moment she was born. And then the opi replies this saying, I felt the exact same way when I saw her the day after the car accident. She had tubes and monitors everywhere, in a brain swelling drain drilled into her scalp.

I cried at first, but, and then got so mad when they told me her drug alcohol limit was four times the limit. She passed out at the wheel. And then the person replies saying, Yep, and people try to shame me by saying addicts can't control their urges. Bullshit. even if she can't now, she made the initial decision to start. She has drained us all for years and I can no longer reconcile that creature as being my sister.

I'm so sorry for what we're going through. I can't even begin to imagine feeling this way and having to take care of her. It must be awful. Don't let those assholes preaching about true love get to you. This isn't a fairy tale and true love shouldn't include having to lose yourself or lie to yourself for someone else. You do whatever you need to do to get through this bullshit. and you feel whatever the fuck you need to feel. And wow, this was a very, very heavy post.

I can only feel for the O.P. And wish her well. And I wish I had a good update for you and being like, well, the O.P.'s better now. Her family's better now. But the O.P. Then shortly after this, deleted her account. So we have no update, no new comments, no anything. I don't know how the O.P. is doing.

But like I said, I can only wish her well. and wish the best for her and her family. But man, that is just a heavy, heavy post. And, yeah, wow. On to the next one. I denied my grandma forgiveness on her deathbed. I had an act committed against me during the summer when I was 15.

I didn't consent to it. My grandma and mom refused to believe me, get me any type of care or press charges. They said I asked for it because of how I dressed. long skirt and turtleneck. My grandma threw me out of the house for about a week. They only took me back because my grandpa threatened to call CYES and file for custody. I made a promise I would never forgive them.

He did it again to another girl and she pressed charges. Others started coming forward. One of them was someone they knew. They finally believed me. Too little, too late. Two years ago, my grandma had a stroke and was put on life support. As predicted, various members started contacting me to come visit her and say final goodbyes. Supposedly, she was asking to see me.

I believe it was because she always preached about forgiveness and resolution before death. I refused to see her. She passed away, and when I got the phone call, I shrugged and went into work. I played ding-dong the witch's dead on my way in. I didn't attend the funeral, and I have never seen where she's buried. I feel zero remorse. I'll be the same way when the Reaper comes for my mom. Damn, that was an intense post.

I understand why the O.P. feels that way, but still, yeah, that's an intense post, insane confession. And let's get into some comments. Someone said, her wanting to see you wasn't about you. It was about her clearing her conscience before she died. My grandma did the same thing. You did what you had to do for you. Continue to live your life as best as you can. Good luck.

And I think this commenter really hit the nail on its head here because I don't think the grandma was feeling remorseful. I think she was just feeling guilty for what she did and didn't help out the O.P. When she could have helped her out or press charges or tried to get the guy who assaulted her in jail or something of the sort. I do think that she wasn't

sorry because if she was sorry, she would have made an act towards it when she was living, but instead on her deathbed, she had to kind of make a last-stitch effort to kind of clear conscience. A very sad situation overall, and the OP then comments, this hit home. I don't believe she was capable of real remorse. Beautifully said. And yeah, a very sad situation overall, and I just wish the OP could have gotten, you know, help when she was younger and not years and years later, but when her grandma was on her deathbed. Such a sad situation, but I wish the O.P. the best. On to the next one.

I think I killed someone. So a few years ago, I, 21 at the time, was at a bar. And as I was drinking, this older dude started asking me for a lighter. I told him that I didn't smoke. But he then started getting aggressive and squaring up to me saying, you better keep your mouth shut. He then tried to hit me with a glass bottle, but I quickly punched him in the chest.

No one really saw it because this was a packed bar, and I just hit him very quickly. After I hit him in the chest, he then walked away, but then sat down over in a corner. I then thought to myself, well, that's him gone. But then as I was leaving the bar, paramedics came running in. I didn't bother going back to check what happened because I was pretty drunk and just wanted to get home so that I can go to sleep.

Anyway, the next day, as I woke up, my mother said, said, apparently, insert name, dropped dead from a heart attack at the bar you were at yesterday. And when I saw the picture, it was the dude who I hit. By the way, this dude was in his 50s and had three kids. His daughter was in my class at school. She used to sit right beside me in English class, funny enough. And he had heart surgery a week before this happening, so he had heart issues.

I've never told anyone this story, and I feel like I did kill him. But shit happens, I guess. And wow, I was not expecting that ending by the OP. I mean, that was a very nonchalant way to be like, well, I probably killed someone. But anyways, but yeah, that's insane. Let's get into some top comments. Someone says, so for context, someone gets agro at you and tries to hid you with a glass bottle, with zero provocation.

Then he subsequently kneeled over dead with one punch of the chest is neither your fault nor your problem. Either he could control his drinking and had a heart condition he knew about, in which case he shouldn't have been drunk and angry to the point of instigating altercations at pubs or he had no idea about the heart condition and it was bad luck and then someone replies to this saying there might have been more to the story he isn't saying

from asking for a lighter to keep your mouth shut there must have been something that happened or said that the OP isn't mentioning and to be honest that's a decent point but um yeah no proof of that I mean the OP never commented on this threat again so we can't prove or disprove that. Someone else says, if O.P. was in the same class as his daughter, like he said, he could have been trying to tell him not to tell his family he's drinking slash smoking a week after open heart surgery, but it sounds like he was already inebriated, so it's highly plausible. He didn't

connect the thought to a coherent sentence. And I mean, that's all speculative. So, I don't know. Very interesting theories, though. Someone else says, I think it's a bad coincidence. He shouldn't have been trying to drink or smoke right after heart surgery. In shows, he didn't take good care of his health. Your punch probably didn't help him, but I think his heart attack was going to happen regardless because he got himself worked up to begin with. Someone else says, I'm sure it was more the rage than the hit that did it to him. Anger issues and high blood pressure go hand in hand.

You didn't kill him. He basically did it himself. Someone else says this all the way. Alcohol and tobacco has effects on your lung. and heart. He should have been taking it easy. Also, it seems like he was a ragey drunk. He shouldn't have let himself get so worked up over nothing because anger works the heart harder. Interesting theory. And then some people start talking about the legality of this and if the OP could be liable for his death. And let's get into this thread. And you're supposed to know

all these details before defending yourself? Nah, I wouldn't worry about it. If he knew he was that fragile and wanted to hurt himself because of it, He was probably too big a pussy to hurt himself and thought a bar fight would be more manly or something. I don't know. I don't really agree with that theory, but then someone else says, technically, in some parts of the law, there is the concept of the eggshell skull doctrine. It basically says that you can be responsible. Legally, in situations where you injure someone even in the attack would not have hurt a normal person. If you hit a guy on the head with a stick, which 99% of people would be fine from, but their skull was a

an eggshell and they cracked, you could be fucked. There's a whole bunch here about self-defense and intent that I don't feel like working through. So I'm just talking to that specific point you made. And that's actually insane. Someone else says, L.O.L. Hold on a sec. I just want to get your doctor to sign off a consent form to disclose your personal health information before we throw hands. And actually, the opi replies to this saying, apparently the dude was a nice guy because my mother knew him, but we all know that drink can turn people violent. I was also a bit drunk myself, and I can get a bit violent as well.

But I grew up hunting animals and watching videos, so maybe that's why I just don't feel much. Interesting comment by the O.P. And he got negative 50 downvotes there as the O.P. So, yeah, people don't really agree with him there. And that's kind of a weird way to say this. I mean, he's acting very edgy all of a sudden. I don't know.

That's very, very odd to me. Very interesting theory. Let me know your thoughts down below. Do you think the O.P. should feel bad? Because obviously, he doesn't think, he doesn't feel bad. He's not saying he feels bad at all. So do you think the O.P. should feel bad? Do you think he shouldn't?

Or do you have some other theory? Comment down below. I catfish married men. Throwaway count. A little background to what started all of this. I started dating this guy two years ago. We were dating for a month before I decided to do a deep dive. I found out he was married, and his wife was seven months pregnant.

I ghosted him and sent all our messages to his wife. They ended up staying together, but six months later, I still saw he was active on dating apps slash Reddit. I sent those to her, and she filed for divorce. So for the past two years, I've trolled the adultery slash cake eaters slash R4R forums on here, looking for some of the vilest posts to see if I can connect with the men in hopes of outing them. Most of the stories these men post are either fake or played up to make them look like they are being successful. It's pathetic to be honest.

But once I have enough information to tell them the truth about what I've been doing, the begging starts. The more they beg and plead for me not to ruin their lives, the funnier it is to me. All of them have offered to pay me not to send info to their wives. One guy offered me $10,000. I was shocked at how far they were willing to go to not get caught. You would also think that this process would take time, but it's usually only a couple days. With some pictures exchanged and they are eating out of my hand. The longest I took on one guy was two weeks.

He was being extra cautious. Because surprise, this was not his first time cheating. My total count so far is 24 men. The wives' reactions have been a mixed bag. Some decide to stay and work it out and a couple ended up just blocking me. Out of the total, eight of those. those women were pregnant. I currently have three wives sitting on the information I sent them that they're planning to use in their divorce. I'm posting this now as an end of an era,

as I'm getting into a serious relationship and cannot continue. Honestly, if you are moderately attractive, you can also do this. Cheaters, you are safe for now, but one day you will come across someone like me. Edit, it felt good to finally get this off my chest. I have not been able to talk to a single soul about this. I'm going to delete this account now. And I've already deleted my catfish account. I think my boyfriend would be a little sketch that I put this scary amount of time into this. And even though this isn't inherently disturbing, I think it is just disturbing how many people who are in, you know, committed marriages to then go cheat on their wives and then, you know, offer $10,000 to not give up the information or for them to not give it the information

with their wives. I think it's just a very disturbing. How many people? And she said she did this for a short amount of time. And just like that, she just found so many people that are willing to just be unfaithful, I guess. I mean, it's just crazy to me. And someone says, all it takes is one fucking psycho and opi is chopped up and stuffed into a dumpster. Best advice I ever got. Don't fuck with other people's business. Regardless how you view them. Their problems aren't yours. And I think that's a disturbing comment, but it isn't that far away from the truth. I mean, it is good that the OP, you know, kind of expose these unloyal men, but at the same time, yeah, I mean, some guy could get his life ruined and, you know, go fucking berserk and do something irrational. So, you know,

if you watch this and get inspiration, just a little bit of a warning, and someone even says, this, this girl is playing some dangerous games, and I kind of have to agree with them. A very interesting post and this was a little bit different than the usual, but interesting nonetheless. My coworker called in sick, but I swear I saw him at a crime scene on the news. So this happened last week and I still can't stop thinking about it. I work at this small office and we're a pretty tight-knit group. So when someone calls in sick, it's usually not a big deal. But my coworker, Mark, called in on Thursday with his over-the-top dramatic voice saying he had the flew and could barely move. I wished him well and moved on with my day. That night, I was eating

dinner and half watching the local news when something caught my attention. They were covering a robbery at a gas station a few miles from my place. The footage was grainy, but they showed this dude in a hoodie and a mask sprinting out of nowhere. He was tall, had the same bill as Mark, and the kicker. He had this distinct limp. Mark had twisted his ankle the week before. At first, I laughed at all. I mean, what are the odds, right? But then they interviewed a witness who said the guy drove off in a silver car. Mark drives a silver Honda. I started feeling that weird mix of disbelief and, oh, crap, is this real?

The next day, Mark comes into work, walking perfectly fine. By the way, I casually asked how he was feeling and he goes, oh, way better, just needed some rest. But here's the thing. He was weirdly specific about, about what he did while he was sick. Like, oh, I just laid on the couch, watching some Netflix, drank Gatorade, nothing exciting. Now, I didn't say anything because what do you even say?

Hey, did you rob a gas station? But I swear every time I catch him glancing at me, it's like he knows I know. The kicker? Yesterday, someone brought donuts to the office. And Mark joked. If I ever robbed the store, it'd be for these. everyone laughed but i couldn't even look at him i'm not saying he did it but i'm not saying he didn't wow that is crazy i wonder if the opi ever did confront the co-worker i mean i guess not but um someone

brings up a good point someone says mark knows you know and he is going to end you very soon mark has nothing to lose be careful opi Oh, that is a much, that is a very ominous comment by someone. And then someone replied to this saying, I mean, if the dude really did the robbery, then he has limits most of us don't share. So might he want to silence O.P. if he suspect she knows? Desperate scared people do desperate, scared things.

Not sure what I'd do if I was O.P. Maybe Concote, a scenario where he's investigated for the robbery without her name anywhere near it. That way, she's safe either way, because if he didn't do it, I'd speculate he's naturally less inclined to hurt people, and if he did, he's gone. If I were the O.P., and I didn't feel threatened by him, I would probably do nothing. If I felt threatened, I'd have to respond somehow.

P.S., I think he did it. His responses and nervous jokes are classic, shitting his pants behavior, and regarding the person, shape, car color, work absence during the robbery, his need to be detailed about his alibi during the robbery, etc. There's no such thing as coincidence. He did it, and if O.P. feels threatened, she has every right to defend herself. Wow, that is, yeah, good point. I mean, I don't know how Mark would know if the O.P knows, but maybe he's just given the vibe, and he's like, oh, you're on to me. But maybe not. I don't know. Very interesting post, and the O.P. never posted again, so I really wonder if the O.P. ever did confront the coworker Mark or not? I wonder. I helped get my predator-uncle,

arrested and nobody knows who's me to this day. Only one other person knows this story, which I'm about to share with the world. I believe anonymously. I come from a pretty unsavory family and said uncle is a known drug dealer. He never hit it and would openly blow a couple lines in front of us as kids. He lived at home so whenever my mom took us to stay at my grandfather's home, I'd bum a couple smokes off him. He never noticed probably because we didn't visit it all that often and he was never sober. You'd think he would have had a lock, but he didn't. He was just bold as shit and he never hid what he was doing. On one visit, I had plans to go out for the night and wanted a little hit of something. He'd just driven off so I went into his room

to pinch some weed for the night. His laptop was closed but switched on and because I'm a nosy bitch, I opened it up. I had plans to visit a local park so I wanted to find directions there through Google Maps. I went on Google and there was a adult video playing from a site I didn't recognize. Both people in the video seemed familiar, so I kept watching. And the rest of the paragraph gets a bit too dicey for YouTube and too graphic, I'd say. But basically, he keeps watching and in the video he sees a younger neighbor he actually knows. And it actually happened to be the very girl he was going to the park with.

that night, which is pretty crazy. And he kept going through his uncle's computer, and he saw files and hundreds of files. And he found thousands of cheese pizza photos. And then he continued saying, shocked with the discovery I had made, I waited until we went to the park to confront the girl. She confessed instantly, breaking down. She told me that it initially started because he promised her some money to buy a new phone. And then he began to threaten to post the videos online. if she told anyone so she stayed silent. When I told her that the videos were already online, she cried. I'd been mulling on this for the past few hours and I told her my plan to report the crime anonymously

and for her to call in and share her testimony as a victim. She was game and that's what we did. We told nobody. The police raided his home and found the laptop containing over 200,000 videos and pictures of cheese pizza, as well as a lot of drugs, and an AK-47. She called in with her testimony, and with my statement, he was arrested with a sentence of nine years. He was let out after six years for good behavior and is now free.

Wow, man, six years for that? Are you kidding me? That is actually really upsetting. six years, everything, I just 200,000 photos. Like, I have never even seen 200,000 photos in my life. And this motherfucker has 200,000 photos of cheese pizza. The most fucked up person ever. And he gets six years.

Are you kidding me? Yeah, that is just upsetting. And the OPE continues saying, he got married to a woman from our home country, who has no idea about. the monster she raised. He's now a Benefits scrounger who fakes having anxiety to get PIP and claims universal credit. He also still sells drugs on the side. The girl was placed into witness protection and moved to a different city with her mother. We kept in contact for a few months after that and then

she changed her number and we lost contact. I can't blame her for wanting a fresh start. I think of her often. I hope she's doing okay. Everyone in our family still talks to him as they think he has reformed. He's visiting our home tomorrow. He also has no idea that it was me who discovered him and ratted him out. He thinks it was one of his drug rivals. He still puts his hands on me and acts playful and I have to act like I care about him. I am a 20-year-old woman now and I despise my uncle with every inch of my being. I will never regret what I did. Nobody knew my secret aside from his victim and my once friend until today. Enjoy. Reddit. And that is insane post. But God, it's just beyond upsetting that he got six years,

nine years, whatever, but only served six years for number one drug offenses, but number two, all of those photos. And everyone in the comments agrees, the top comment literally is six fucking years for a predator. Fucking unbelievable. He should be rotting in a goddamn, hole six feet under a landfill. And for 200,000 pieces of content, no less, it's shocking. And I agree. It is insanely shocking. I thought if you were caught with that, you're going away for the rest of your life. But man, man, man, that is just upsetting. Now we got only six years. But I mean, this is a very positive confession in my opinion. Thank God the O.P. did this and put her uncle away, even though he should have been away for a lot longer. In all the comments, our

praising OP, which they should. And yeah, I just lost a lot of faith in the justice system because, yeah, six years, nine years for that. You kidding me? 200,000 pieces of content. And whatever else this guy was charged with, who knows what he did to any sort of victims? Who knows? But, yeah, that's a very disgusting post.

But thank God the OP did that. And the OP never posted again. It's deleted account now. So hopefully I just have to wonder if the uncle saw this somehow. I doubt it. But still, it's like, did the uncle see this? And he's like, oh, well, now I know, you know, does the OP need to be put into witness protection? Who knows?

But I would definitely be a little bit wary if that was the O.P. But very interesting post. And all right, guys, that wraps up some disturbing rat a confession post. Did you enjoy this video? Would you like to see more videos like this in the future? If so, please comment down below. I read every single comment, so please comment down below your thoughts and let me know if you'd like to see me continue this. And yeah, these confessions were jarring and depressing and dark and, you know, I'll try to leave this on a good note.

Go outside, hug your mom, hug your dad, hug your family, take a deep breath of fresh air, touch some grass, and yeah, relax a little. Life's good. And thank you guys for watching. It means the world. Please like the video and subscribe to the channel. helps more than you know and if you enjoyed this video check out some other videos on the channel i'm sure you'll like them as well thank you so much for watching to the end of the video means the world and this was snook and i'll see you next time bye