Snook - Disturbing Viewer Confessions

Episode Date: August 26, 2026

I want to say thank you to everyone who submitted their confessions! Although some of these were truly horrifying... make sure to send in your confessions if you would like to see this series continued! Timestamps! 0:00 | Intro 2:20 | I'm responsible for my husband's death16:20 | I am in love with a horrific person 21:30 | My F'd up experience with an escort27:21 | After years of wanting my grandfather di*d, he finally di*d. I was devastated 38:10 | My adult video addiction has been out of control for years45:32 | I falsely accused my mother of violating me and I dont feel guilty56:23 | I became an escort to survive the cost of living crisis 59:20 | Outro Send a confession to be read! [e-mail] Join the Patreon! https://www.patreon.com/SnookYT⁠ Follow me on instagram and Spotify! 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] And yes, I'm a human voice. NEXT SUB GOAL - 1,000,000 subscribers! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Real Canadian Superstore has everything you need this back-to-school season. Save on lunchbox savers like Ziggy's sliced deli-meat products for always 375. And get Life Brand Pure Vita shampoo or conditioner for $8 each. At Real Canadian Superstore, when you're ready, we're ready, with a whole world and more. Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to the channel. And today we're getting into some disturbing viewer confessions. And oh boy, do I have some insane, wild, deranged, and just downright disturbing confessions for you guys today. So make sure to stick around.

And I appreciate you guys. Stopping by means the world and make sure you like the video and subscribe to the channel. The channel subscriber goal is 1 million subscribers before the end of the year. So please subscribe. I would really love for you to join the community.

So if you're not subscribed, please subscribe. And if you are already subscribed, then you are amazing and you are the best. Thank you so much for the support. And you heard the title correctly. These are all confessions sent in by you guys, viewers of the channel. And like I said, some of them are just disturbing and depressing. But if you'd like to see your confession in a future video,

please send it to the email on screen now. Thank you. And also when you send in your confession, make sure it has a clear title of what the contents of your confession are. And also when you write it out, just make sure to double check the grammar and make sure it's not just one long run-on sentence so you can break up with paragraphs. It's a lot easier for me to read and put into the videos

and you just have a higher chance of the confession being put into a video. But I just want to say thank you to everyone who is confident enough to send in their confession. I mean, I really do appreciate it. It's how we make these videos possible. And if you'd like to see these videos even longer, because I know you guys love the long videos,

please just send in more confessions. And also thank you guys so much. much for all of the support on Instagram and Spotify. You guys have been tagging me and so much super cool fan art and that sort of stuff on my Instagram. And I just want to say you guys are extremely talented and I want to say it's super, super cool. So thank you. And also make sure to go follow me over on Spotify as well and rate me five stars. I appreciate it so, so much. But anyways, that's enough yapping. Make sure you sit back, relax, grab a drink, grab a snack, And without further ado, let's get into some disturbing viewer confessions.

I am responsible for my husband's death. Hi, Snook, greetings from night shift at the funeral home. I listen to your videos as I work, like so many of your viewers. I'm going to change his name, and you're welcome to refer to me as Jack. There's a lot here, and I'm not sure how much you want to include, so feel free to remove any sections, you don't feel are relevant. I met my husband, who I'm going to call James, back in 2015. At the time, we were both in other relationships. But we are joined at the hip almost immediately.

I know it sounds incredibly cliche, but he is someone that I'd very much consider my soulmate. It's hard to overstate how much a support he was for me. When we met, I was severely depressed, dealing with abuse both from my romantic partner at the time and my family. I was in an exceptionally crappy job that destroyed me emotionally and paid starvation wages, and living in a constant state of either total disassociation or complete panic attack. My self-confidence was so low that I never even tried to change anything, because I genuinely didn't believe that I could. because of him, I got my mental health managed, got a new and amazing job.

He was there in person holding my hand when I tried to talk to my folks about the abuse they'd put me through, to try and see if we could find a way forward. And he got me out of there safely when things went predictably south. In late 2018, we both found ourselves single and decided, F it. Let's see how this works out. but I think we'd both known for a while how it would work out. Wonderfully. And wonderful it was.

Some relevant background. He and I met at a party. We both were binge drinkers, and we spent as many hours together absolutely shit-canned as we did sober. To paint a picture, one party we went to shortly after getting together, I once again drank too much, and politely excused.

myself to vomit in a secluded patch of the garden. I have some manners, even entirely blacked out. I was still within earshot to the balcony where most people were congregated and heard someone ask him if I was okay. And he was like, yep, this is normal. Jack will return when he's done vomiting. And got met with a naturally skeptical, are you sure? To prove I was okay, he sung out into the night the opening line to one of my favorite songs, me entirely blacked out, halfway in a garden, sung the second line right back, warbled it back. It was the description he used later. When he told me how shocked people were that I'd responded at all the given state I was in, we were that in sync at all times, drunk, sober, and every moment in between.

As we got older, we drank less, but both of us still had a taste for anything that altered us. We moved into our own place together in the early months of 2020, and rode out locked out together with good humor. The enclosed space only made us closer, unlike many couples during that time. I'd coincidentally arranged to take three weeks off work that started the same week that lockdown did. So we spent the entire time playing Diablo 3, couch co-op, getting drunk, and watching the world burn. We both also had an acquired taste for recreational drugs from our earlier partying days. James specifically enjoyed psychedelics, while I enjoyed sedatives. opioids specifically.

And this is where one of the biggest differences between me and James became relevant. I'm cautious and reserved for the most part. James was about as subtle as a train wreck on a boat in whatever context he found himself in and was prone to just taking whatever he was handed without even so much as looking at it. I was especially careful around opioids. I had previously almost lost my own life due to an OD of opioids. Whenever it was on the menu for us, I went out of my way to repeatedly explain to James how you can't OD from weed or acid, but opioids wouldn't be so forgiving.

So don't mess around with them outside a small, controlled doses. So come early 2022, flush with public holiday pay after the December holidays. I bought us some pills, specifically opioids. This wasn't the first time I had done this. I'd say it was something I did every six or so months. I bought two tablets. From those who are unfamiliar, most people can get comfortably high from only 10 milligrams. And I'd picked up some tricks that I would.

won't be sharing that made it hit so much harder. I was buying from a dude who'd been in a severe motorbike accident that left him permanently disabled and in chronic pain and sold some on the side to get by when disability payments weren't enough. I bought these tablets with every intention of breaking them down into eighths and only taking little bits here and there. So on a random Sunday night, we decided to get into it. I didn't work Mondays and it was a holiday, so he wouldn't be working either. So we did our little doses and went about our nights. It was very relaxed. We were just having a nice time. And eventually, I decided to head to bed. It wasn't uncommon for me to go to bed earlier than him. And while feeling warm and fuzzy, I had insisted on affection before going to bed.

And he was going to stay up for a bit and said he might take a little bit more and join me later. I went to bed. I woke up a few hours later and he was still up. I got up to check on him. He was just watching things on his computer. And let me know he'd be in to join me soon and gave me a kiss good night. and I toddled my way back to our bed. It was the last kiss I'd received from him. James was a bigger dude and had the kind of snore that got him banned from crashing at folks' houses after a party. I opted just to sleep with earplugs in,

as I was a light sleeper, and typically would wake up every couple of hours regardless. When I woke up at 2 a.m., I got up to get up to get a. some water and went to the bathroom. And that's when I noticed the silence. Because I'd taken one earplug out to make sure I wasn't accidentally making a racket. When I touched him, he was cold. The shock set in almost immediately. I don't remember much of that morning. The ambulance arrived within five minutes. We lived within walking distance of one of the major hospitals in the capital city we lived in. I know that I didn't hide anything from the ambulance and attendance nor the police

when they showed up. I told them flatly that there were non-prescription drugs involved. James was taken into the care of the state coroner while things were looked into. I was never formally investigated or charged, and I think part of that was how obvious it was to anyone who knew us how accidental all of this was. Everyone around us knew how much we'd helped each other. I also didn't hide what had happened from his family, who had become my family after going no contact with my own biological family. It was his mother, not mine,

that showed up that morning when she got the call from the police that they didn't want to leave me on my own at the apartment. I didn't hide it from our best friends, who refused to let me stay on my own, instead showing up on my doorstep and packing up me and my dog to stay with them, they'd been the ones to introduce us all those years ago. They were grieving just as much as I was. They kept me fed, watered, and taking my psych meds. When they were convinced that it wasn't a danger to myself,

they helped me rearrange the apartment so it didn't. feel the same when I got back. So what am I confessing then? If all these people knew the part I played in the Greek tragedy I'd thrust us all into? The detail that I've never told anyone till now is that I'd been woken by him between my first waking when he was on the computer and the second where I found him cold. He had what we joked about as loud dreams, where he would physically move around a lot in his sleep. And that's what I thought it was.

When his movement woke me, just another loud dream paid in no mind. Drifting back off to sleep, I remembered thinking it had to be a particularly loud one because I myself was very sedated and had been jolted awake from dreaming. except I realized later it wasn't a loud dream. James had gone into respiratory failure after O'Dine.

He was convulsing, not moving, as his airway was blocked. We learned later after the autopsy results that he'd likely taken the entire other, tablet that I hadn't yet split. This added to the snoring, which was actually obstructive sleep apnea, added to another prescribed medication he took that was also a sedative, was more than enough to depress his breathing to the point he wasn't able to recover. Which means there was a brief moment in time that I could have intervened and saved him. A moment I didn't take. That moment is never far from my thoughts. I live with his sister now. Her and James were pretty much no contact when I met him and likely would have stayed that way, except I'd met her out of family gathering

and realized he'd been an asshole to her growing up and more or less told him to pull his head out of his own ass and help them talk through their issues. It was me who'd walked her down the aisle for a wedding as James was originally planning to. They've never blamed me for what happened. We all knew James was prone to risk taking, to put it mildly. We both had serious S-word ideation issues and a streak of recklessness when it came to our own health. This wasn't a surprise given our histories. That hasn't stopped me from struggling to deal with the consequences. I was the one who brought the gasoline to the same home as the wildfire. There was a moment, however brief, that it was within my power to prevent this. It should not have been me walking her down

that aisle. And now I'm here living with his sister, living the life that he, could have been. My own family wouldn't have missed me, not the way his sister does. For those going through something similar, I can only really promise one thing, and that is that life and things do improve, given enough time. Things won't be the same, but this event will have its place in your past, and your future will still happen if you let it. It's not fast, and it's not pretty. Let people support you and let yourself feel what you need to feel. I'm not James, but I'm the closest thing to him that his sister can still talk to. I tell her stories of our years together.

Whenever I remember them and she tells me about their lives before my time, everyone else with sleep apnea in the family now has a CPAP machine. And if you have sleep apnea, you should get one ASAP. We don't know if it would have saved James, but it would have given him a chance. More of a chance than I did. Thanks for reading. I am in love with a shooter. Hey, Snook, been watching your videos for about a year now, and I love your content.

Anyways, on to the confession. Also, I would like to keep it as anonymous as possible. I, 21 female, am in a little. love with an Austrian shooter. Last year, I was living alone while being in a toxic relationship with my ex-boyfriend, when on my birthday I wanted to just commit S-word. I couldn't take my ex-boyfriend's constant mental abuse anymore, so I decided to try and do commit S-word.

Obviously, I didn't succeed. The day after my birthday, still feeling S-word and in shambles, I was watching the news when I saw him, an Austrian shooter, who killed nine people. From the moment I saw him, I had this spark in my eyes. I've always had a fascination with murderers and shooters, but it's never been anything other than that, just a fascination. Seeing him on the news just made my heartbeat so fast, like a normal person seeing their high school crush in the hallway for the first time.

I moved back to my dad's place after my S-word attempt, but my love for this shooter only grew. I printed pictures of him to put on my walls. I have a photo of him in a cute little pouch I carry with me everywhere. I have a heart locket necklace with his picture I wear constantly. All my social media is themed by him. I generate AI pictures of me and him. I even commissioned art to make a body pillow of him I sleep with every night. I am utterly obsessed.

I researched basically every piece of information available of him, and with every new piece of information, I just started falling for him harder and harder. I even broke up with my ex-boyfriend. I had not because he was toxic, but because I wanted to devote all of my free time to the shooter. We have so many things in common. It's crazy. I started doing everything he was doing from listening to his music to playing the games he liked.

Everything. It's not adoration. It's love. I am in love with him despite him doing what he did. If he was still alive, I would have totally dated him. We are so much alike, it's insane. I listen to the very few clips of his voice available on the internet over and over and over again. Every time I see or hear him, it just makes my heart flutter so much unlike anything else before. My father is aware of this obsession I have. He doesn't really mind it that much, although he does think it's a bit strange.

I sleep with a pillow of a dead killer every night. but overall, he doesn't really say much about it. All my friends know as well, well, not to this extent, and again, none of them really seem to mind, which is great. I really do love him, and one day I hope I can die so I can see him. I'm not going to follow into his footsteps and commit a shooting as well, since gun laws in my country are super strict, but sometimes I do wish I could just no longer be living,

so I can be with him in the afterlife. He's all I want really. I don't want help nor advice. I just wanted to tell someone. Feel free to put in a video or not. I don't really care. And I just have to say that obsession is just disgusting. I mean, think about the people who lost their loved ones in a horrible shooting. people who will never see their family, friends, mother, father, sister, brother, ever again. And you're idolizing the person who killed these innocent people. It's just disgusting and it's just wrong. And please get the help you need because completely, I know you didn't say you want advice, but I don't care. This is wrong.

This is disturbing. nine people lost their lives that day and an unknown amount still think about that every single day and will till the day they die hundreds if not thousands if not tens of thousands of people lost people they loved and like i said they'll think about that every single day it's not their fault and you have this obsession of someone who was a psychopath and a monster and deserves to burn in hell. And so please get the help you need because this obsession is just wrong. My effed up experience with an escort. Hey, Snook, I enjoy your content.

I love playing your videos in the background while doing work around the house. I've been wanting to get this off my chest for a while now, but can't tell anyone. No one in my family knows, and I've moved hundreds of miles away from where this happened, so I don't want anyone here to know what I've done in my old place. To start, I know how messed up this situation is on my end. I wish I'd explain why I did this, but I can't justify it either. So I've always been active, intimately, since high school. I'm currently 32 male.

dating sucked for me. Still does. During college, I discovered the section of Craigslist used for meeting escorts and started using it whenever I could afford to. Used it regularly till the site took it down. I stopped meeting escorts till 2018 when I found an escort site that wasn't taken down and fell back into that cycle. I would meet up with whoever I could at random until I'd I met this one escort. She went by Jules at the time. Now some important info on Jules. When I met her, she was homeless,

in that she bounces from hotel to hotel when she could afford and had times where she had to sleep on the streets. She couldn't get a job due to not having a necessary ID to get a job. So escort work was the only form of income she had. I texted her for her services and got her rates. We agreed on 30 minutes. I convinced her to do unprotected intimacy when, when she normally doesn't, by telling her I would pay more, which I did.

Now here is where the effed up part begins. She couldn't afford birth control, which is why she didn't do unprotected intimacy. I convinced her to let me do this by line, telling her I could. couldn't get her pregnant due to being sterile. Again, I lied about that. Need to emphasize that. It's important to the story. So we meet and I tell you it was the best feeling ever.

From start to finish, it was the best. And she enjoyed the hell out of it too. And I mean, out of all of the escorts I've been with, which is a lot, she was the absolute best. After that, I made it a point to see her. her as after as I could with the same arrangement. Yes, still keeping the lie secret for the course of years. During that time we got close, like she called me her boyfriend close, which is odd to me because I didn't feel the same way. She was just a means to get off intimately. I know,

I'm crappy. I'd help her move. I'd help her with food, buying a room when she needed it, and other things as long as I got intimacy out of it. Writing this now, it sounds like a sure, her daddy situation, which I can see that looking back. I eventually told her that I was lying about not being able to reproduce, but at that point she didn't care, she fell in love with me, and didn't care if I'd gotten her pregnant. Important side note, it's relevant. We had been doing this regularly for six years without getting pregnant. Fast forward to December of 2024. My parents had just split and I had decided to move 600 miles away with my mother to be closer to my oldest brother and his daughter. I had reached out to Jalais for our usual hookup one last time before moving

away and then ending the relationship. We meet and got it done and I moved off. A month later, at some point in January 2025, I text her and she tells me she's pregnant. She's pregnant with my child. Couldn't be anyone else because I was the only one that went unprotected. Trust me, I asked about other clients. I was literally the only one going unprotected. We'd gone six years without her getting pregnant and it happens then when I'm hundreds of miles away and starting a new life. What makes this absolutely terrible is I had no plans on supporting her or the child. I had just moved hundreds of miles away.

I was in between jobs due to moving, and I just didn't care. I had no feelings for her, nor was I expecting a pregnancy after years of trying. She was homeless during the pregnancy, and I just didn't care to help her. She was just a means to fuel my intimate addiction, nothing more, and now that she was so far away, she had no use to me. She ended up with a miscarriage due to being homeless, and it was a woman. relief on my end. I didn't have to take care of a kid with a woman I didn't have any emotional investment in. And it's not like she could get child support either. She couldn't afford to take me to

court to get that either. It's absolutely terrible to say, I'm glad I don't have to deal with it. I don't feel bad for her. I don't have any attachment to her or the child I could have had. I haven't heard from her in a year and a half. Last I heard, she had gotten arrested for home invasion, and I couldn't care a less. After years of wanting my grandfather dead, he finally died. I was devastated. Hi, Snook, I watched your most recent viewer confessions video, and one of these submissions inspired me to submit my story as well.

well. I comment on the video with a condensed version in order to give advice to that OP, but I figure I might as well submit my full story, even if you don't use it in a video. My grandfather, S-Aid, and violated me when I was a young child. He did it multiple times over the course of maybe a year or so. He would make me watch adult videos with him, perform intimate acts on me, and have me perform intimate acts on him. He would shower with me, not just a normal shower, obviously, wipe me down so I would taste better and much more that I won't get into. I remember the last time he ever touched me. I was over at his house while people were there. He put his hand on my thigh. I don't know why I did it, but I moved his hand away and got up. I moved without saying anything.

I don't remember him ever touching me again after that. After that, my dad would take my brother and me to his house every Sunday for dinner. Every time he arrived and left, he would force my brother and I to give him a kiss on the lips. I eventually learned to dodge them, direct them to my cheek. For about a decade, give or take. I would act cold, hostile, and rude towards him. Every joke, question, every gross compliment or anything similar. I would ignore or give him attitude.

He never acknowledged it. I think he knew why I acted that way with him. I was always in a pissy mood when we were there. I even flinched and cringed at my father hugging me or showing affection. I felt horrible, but I felt helpless. He couldn't understand why and often became irritated with me. I don't blame him. On my 18th birthday, I was celebrating with my mom.

We got tattoos and went out to dinner. We were talking about my grandfather. Besides the obvious abuse, he was a horrible person. He was a narcissist, an asshole. Him and his wife very obviously favored my uncle over my father and treated him horribly. He treated his wife horribly as well, who did literally everything for him, as he is obese, and he has other health issues in old age made it hard for him to even walk. Anyways, my mother and I were talking about incidents in the past where he treated my mom and dad horribly.

Without thinking, I slipped and said, he's done stuff to me you don't even know about. My mom was confused and started asking me what I meant. I panicked after realizing what I said and told her it was nothing and to move on. She kept pressing, and I kept begging her to move on and insisting it was nothing. She eventually went quiet and asked, Did he violate you? I went silent, and she immediately understood. I begged her to keep it a secret and told her it was fine.

At first, she reluctantly agreed. After that night, she refused to keep quiet. My grandmother was constantly bringing children into the home. I begged her not to create a police report. She eventually told me that even if I started to hate her, she was going to file a report. I was angry, upset, and slightly resented her. My mindset ever since I was young was that I was the only person who knew and the only victim. I needed to be quiet to keep the peace in my family.

Then one day, my mom told me he abused another family member. and her baby daughter, that my cousin, the sibling of the victim, told my grandmother, and she refused to believe it because of denial. She was a child when he violated her. She is five to six years older than me. Her daughter would have barely been a toddler when he violated her. He touched her, then he touched me, then he touched her daughter. My uncle walked in on my grandfather abusing her and did nothing.

There were people in that house that knew what he did, what he was capable of, and my grandmother kept bringing children into that house. My brother and I included, she let him hold infants. She left him alone with toddlers. He worked with kids when he was younger. In minutes, my whole defense for why I was silent fell. I wasn't the only victim, and people knew what he did. Any anger and resentment towards my mother disappeared immediately,

and I instantly told her I would do whatever was needed for the investigation. I had an emotional call with the other victim, crying with her. She eventually turned on my mother for trying to help and betrayed me in the process by doing so. I did one police interview. They had me call him on a... recorded line. I was allowed to lie to him. I told him my therapist told me to call him and make amends. I asked him when he did this. Why? What did he do to me? Trying to get his confession on recording. He told me, he touched me, because I was laying in his bed and he wanted to. That's why he

ruined my life. He wanted to. And I was just there. He told me that he touched the other victim because she wanted it. She was damn near baby with how young she was. I broke down sobbing when he said that. I asked why he did it and he said, I am a predator. The detective wrote on a notepad that I could end the call whenever I wanted. I told him I was done and said goodbye. His last words to me were, I love you. I ended the call without saying it back. They told me I did a great job, but I felt helpless, disgusted. I had no physical evidence of what he did to me.

All I had was my word and his shitty and gross confession. He claimed he couldn't remember some things because of his memory. He was in and out of the hospital and in protective custody for months. He had approximately at 19 counts against him. Right before the hearing for, resendencing, he died. There's an article online writing about his death, but we have the same last name and I don't want to share my last name so I won't link it. For years, I fantasized about killing him, strangling, stabbing, using his shotgun, anything. I just wanted him dead and I wanted

to kill him. I knew I was never going to do it. I never actually wanted to. I just wanted him gone and dead. As soon as he was arrested and I could see justice for myself, I begged that he would stay alive long enough to sit in his prison cell. It felt like a cruel joke. He was consistently in poor health but always managed to hang on.

each time he was sent to the hospital, all I could think was please just die there. That in custody, each time I was aware he was sent to the hospital, I begged, please don't die in there. I lost my entire paternal side of my family, my grandmother, cousins, everyone. Some of them don't know. Some are crazy and spreading lies about everything. My grandmother is trying to keep it a secret from everyone and run, from the justice I'm seeking against her. My ex-friends called me a selfish narcissist because I made everything about me.

During the legal battle against and the death of my grandfather, they never explicitly said that's why I was selfish, but we all knew that's what they meant. They never supported me. We all treated it as one big, silly joke. The worst part of it all, my dad lost his parents. His dad was a predator who died in custody, his mother cut him off for no reason. He learned his daughter was a victim at the hands of his father.

He found out about his aunt's death through someone other than his own mother. His brother called my mom crazy and a liar and brainwashed his son against my mom. My brother lost his grandparents and cousins and everyone on that side of the family. He had to learn that while we were at his house as kids. He would take me into his room and do vile things to me. As horrible as it is, and as much as I know, I'm never getting justice, I think I'm pretty happy now. I love my parents and my brother.

I couldn't have done it without them. I moved in with my boyfriend recently. I have new best friends who actually care about me. My boyfriend and I adopted two cats. I'm still in a legal battle against my grandmother. my amazing lawyer and the only lawyer who truly cares about my case left and now we're stuck with some guy who doesn't know or fully care about my case. I just want it to be done with. I want my justice and I want my grandmother to actually apologize to me.

The last thing she said to me was complaints about paying for a lawyer, not, and I'm so sorry, or I love you. It sucks, but at least I have my true family. with me now and I'll forever be grateful for this outcome because it could definitely be worse even if it didn't go my way thank you for reading if you did my adult video addiction has been out of control for years hi snook I've been watching you for a while now and your videos have helped me get through most of my work days I would like to apologize for anything that is slightly incoherent. I'm not that good at writing things.

I want to start this with I'm a 23-year-old man and how I have done and have had many thoughts that led me to wanting to commit S-word. I have never attempted to and always seek help before the thoughts go too far. I very recently started seeking help from therapists to help with my adult video addiction. This addiction has left me broke

for all of my adult life and affected all of my teen years. I don't really know how or exactly when it started, but I know I was young teen and it just got more and more depraved as the years went on. I started watching adult videos every night, day, and even at school or work. When I started working, I still do for the most part and just can't stop myself. After a while, my thoughts got more depraved and led me to violating my younger autistic cousin. Never went past touching her chest slash butt. I understand how wrong it was and only did it once. I don't even know why I decided to do it, just did it, and I still regret it to this day.

After a couple of years, I started thinking of children and stopped shortly after. I nearly started looking for videos, but stopped myself before I would and always threw it. up after thinking it. I believe I started thinking of this because I have become fairly desensitized to the usual adult videos I watch. I know it's no excuse, but I thought I should add it. I also started watching and subbing to OF models and just can't get myself to stop. I am in not so severe debt and it'll just get continuously worse and worse as I continue to watch and subscribe to these things. It is quickly destroying my relationship with my family,

and it's only a matter of time before it affects my friendships. I still constantly check out women without thinking and don't like myself each time I do, just because I know I'm just objectifying them. Sorry for how long and almost incoherent this is, at least to me. I'm bringing all of this up in therapy but needed to get it off my chest, so thank you for allowing me to do this. And, yeah, man, just please keep up with the therapy because you just admitted to violating someone and ass a in someone, which is illegal, disgusting, and wrong.

And so please just get the help you need before this escalates because this sort of stuff does. And you need help. And I hope you can realize how severely you need it before things get worse. but please keep up with that therapy. And, yeah, just stay on that. I was really close with my cousin. Hello, Snook. I hope this goes into a Confession Threads video.

I love your videos. Please keep this anonymous. Also, please pay no mind to grammar mistakes. I'm typing this out on my phone. Warning, it will be weird. Like, brotherly love weird. or family love, or I can't say the word on YouTube, but family doing intimacy. You know what I'm saying.

So I, female 18, have a cousin, female 18, who is only a few weeks older than me, and we grew up inseparable, to the point where my mom had to force us to take baths separately. When we are younger, we would play with dolls like normal young girls, but sometimes we would make the dolls do naughty things. which I think a reason for that is that me and my cousin were more mature for being only like 12 or 13. Anyways, one night, me and my cousin were just on Google on my school laptop, and I remembered that there was a cool video and text chat website that I learned about. I told my cousin about it, and we opened it up.

We were giggling and having fun. When a guy on there asked if we were siblings or friends, I responded that we were cousins. And then we skipped him. Nothing bad, right? Well, sort of. Eventually, we came across the same guy, and he asked us if we ever kissed someone before. I said no, and my cousin just shook her head.

He asked if we could kiss each other. At first, we both refused, but he kept insisting that we should. Eventually, we just gave in, and it was like a small peck. Looking back now, I don't know if my cousin remembers these events, especially since now she smokes a lot of weed. Anyways, time skip because nothing happens for good like three years. So we were both 15 to 16 and she is living with me and my family and we were home alone one night. Us being teens, we decided to show each other what we watched on adult websites. Now I will never do that again because it's weird and very gross, but I was

young. Even though it was like three years ago, one thing led to another and we ended up trying to have intimacy with clothes on. Well, in reality, she told me she wanted to learn a certain position. Eventually, we just gave up because it was not pleasurable. So we just went back to our bedroom and watched horror movies. Now, to this day, I feel icky remembering these memories because that's not what you do with your cousin. Though it was all consenting, I just feel yucky knowing that I did that. I think I'm going to talk to my cousin about this to see if she remembers it and feels disgusted about what we did in the past. And then the user who sent me this email actually followed up with an update email a few days later saying update, follow up email. I have to have. I

have an update. So I spoke to my cousin about a month ago about this, and she does remember what we did. She told me that she also regrets what we did, but she doesn't think that what we did should ruin our friendship. And despite feeling disgusted about what we did, she wants to leave that in the past and look to the future. We hope to get an apartment together when we move out regardless of the fact that she lives five, almost six hours away from me. I hope this update makes it easier for you to put this story of mind in a video. I love watching your videos and I'm currently watching the newest viewer confessions video as of writing this. I falsely accused my mother of violating me and I don't feel guilty. Hey Snook, I love your videos and I've been watching for roughly a year or two.

Finally have the courage to tell someone this. Please keep me in on. I apologize if it's messy, I'm not the best writer. This happened back when I was 17, nearly 18 years old. Ever since I was young, I've been incredibly mentally ill. I've been in and out of therapy, expelled from multiple schools for missing too much, and I always knew something was deeply wrong with me. I have diagnosed C-PTSD, along with agoraphobia, ADHD, and likely

autism, which all plays a lot into what happened. My mother has always been my biggest bully. Most of my issues have come from her tormenting me both physically and mentally. We have our ups and downs. She's not horrible all the time, but she really goes for the throat when she's feeling malicious. She was abused by her ex-husband, so she took out her frustrations on me, my entire life. She pushed me into an eating disorder until I was concerningly underweight. She would openly wish I was kidnapped and assaulted. She would encourage me to attempt to commit S-word. And once when I was eight, she even ripped off all my clothes, yes, everything, and threw me out of the car in the middle of the day.

She stranded me there for hours. Thankfully, my uncle found me and gave me some. clothes and scolded my mother harshly for that. I can't quite remember where it started, but one day we're fighting as usual, and something she says triggers my fight or flight, and I begin having intense flashbacks. This is how I found out I was S-A'd in foster care, but in the moment everything was a blur. I was convinced it was my mother who did this to me. She already did so much to me. So in my mind, at the time, it just made sense. In my rage, I pulled a knife on her, crying my eyes out as teenagers usually do,

when overwhelmed with extreme emotions. I didn't want to hurt her. I just didn't feel safe and wasn't thinking clearly. There's a gap in my memory here, but I believe my mother called the police and I woke up in the psych ward. I was given medication, stayed there a week, and convinced the judge I no longer felt like doing something extreme to myself or others. Once I was home, I was immediately made fun of for my breakdown. I just didn't care anymore. I told my mom what actually happened, how I was abused in foster care. And she said I deserved it.

She sometimes uses it against me in arguments to make me shut down. I never saw her the same after that. We live in an area with a lot of gang activity. My mother is slash was a part of one. And word quickly spread of what I had accused her of. Gangs don't take kindly to people who hurt minors, especially their own. Her friends have cut her off.

She lives in fear that she may be hurt by them and I couldn't care alas. Even if she didn't violate me or S-A-me, she abused me to the point I will never recover. I'll never be able to be normal. I never had a chance at a normal childhood. And I never expected to make it to adulthood because I expected to have committed S word by now.

But I'm still here. The only thing keeping me going is hoping to outlive her so I can finally move out and move on. I deserve to live. I deserve to be loved. I know this may sound like something out of a book, but this is all true.

She's unfortunately just that cartoonishly evil. If you have any questions, just shoot me response to this email, and I will answer ASAP. Thanks for reading. It feels good to get this off my chest finally. I became just like my drug-addicted escort mother. Hey, Snook, this is going to be a long one. First of all, I just want to say I've been watching your chair. channel for about a year now, and I want to say thank you for your work. I'm a 24-year-old woman.

As a kid, I lived with my mother. She divorced my father when I was one years old, which caused my dad to move to another country. From that point, I saw him usually twice a year when he visited our home country for holidays. I want to point out that my mother has an official psychiatric antisocial personality diagnosis. In other terms, she's a psychopath. She started working as an escort when I was very small, around four years old. And no, we never had financial issues because she came from a family that could always afford things. She didn't have to go into being an escort. She just wanted to.

And as she says, normal jobs aren't for her. Her addiction to drugs, alcohol, and prescription meds began in her teenage years. even before she gave birth to me. I lived with her until I was around 10 years old. She used to have intimacy with men in the bedroom right next to my room. To this day, I remember looking through the keyhole to see what she was doing with those men. I also remember that one night I was playing some zoo simulator on my computer, and the turtles I had in my zoo died.

In the meantime, I could hear intimate sounds from my mom's bedroom. I don't fully understand why, but I started crying so hard and just opened the door to that bedroom and said that I don't feel well because my turtles died. Honestly, I think I did that because I was bothered by the sounds from the other room, and these sounds scared me. I was maybe around seven or eight then. They covered themselves pretty quickly and acted like nothing is happening, but another thing I remember is. asking about the white stains. My mom said it's just milk. I remember nights spent all alone, crying with just cartoons playing that my mom set up for me before going out. And then her coming back completely drunk. One time she opened the door and as soon as she did she fell flat on her face on the

ground. I remember coming back home at around 1 p.m. and her being so drugged up by alcohol and pills that she spoke to me things that made no sense. It was middle of the day and she was trying to put me to bed. I was scared. The first time I saw drugs was when I was around 10. It was my mom's drugs, but I wasn't sure of what it was back then. I remember thinking that mom is dead because she's not waking up and I was crying so much. One time, while drugged up for some reason, she also tried putting a tampon up my private area. I don't know why. I didn't have period at the time yet. These are the moments I remember the most. Around 10 years old, my grandma decided that it would be good for me to live with her. And she gave me a perfect home. This woman is an angel. And if it

weren't for her, I'm sure I'd be dead in a ditch somewhere. However, I guess the chance, the trauma already did its thing by then. I was bullied a lot in school, and I wasn't pretty, and I was incredibly shy and scared of everything. Mostly just spent time at the library so that I wouldn't have to seem alone during breaks. I wasn't able to speak to people. My first relationship around 14 years old was with a 38-year-old man. I just wanted someone's attention so bad. I got computer pretty early in my life, around nine, and I don't even remember how it happened that I started watching adult videos. Throughout my life, the adult videos I watched for progressively worse, up to the point where I would watch adult videos every day, and specifically look for as abusive, violent, and disgusting adult videos as possible.

At 17 years old, I became an escort. I'm not sure why and how it happened. My grandmother didn't realize this. I was very sneaky about it. I'd earn so much money, it's incredible. I did terrible things for it too, and I wasn't scared. Later on, I told my mom about it, and I'd start working at our apartment. I could take up to three to four clients a day.

I earned crazy amounts of money. Your playlist might get you through the workday, but have you ever wondered how your ancestors spent theirs? What work helped them build a life? How did they adapt as the world around them changed? With Ancestry, you can search Select Historical Occupational Records for free for a limited time and discover the stories behind the jobs in your family tree. You've got questions. We've got ancestors.

Search free until August 31st. Visit Ancestry.ca for details. Terms apply. Around that time, I also started taking drugs with my mom. I'd hang out at her apartment, just taking in clients and doing stimulants with her. I worked like that up until I was around 20. Then something changed in me. I'm not sure what.

Maybe the depression and mental issues caught up to me. Three years ago, I was present during my dad's death. Cancer got him. I held his hand and sang songs to him while he was taking his last breaths. For a long time after experiencing his death, I was in a very bad state. There's much more to the story, but it'd be even longer. Long story short now, I have three more years of university left until I get my master's degree in clinical psychology. I work as an English tutor and also get a scholarship from my university every month thanks to my high GPA.

I live alone with my two cats. I cannot imagine going back to the work I used to do. I was diagnosed with a dependent personality disorder. I'm doing okay now, I guess. I have my own apartment and maybe can't afford to buy everything I want, but I'm still proud of myself that, well, I found another way, I guess. I just want to help people. I want to become a psychologist and help people.

I became an escort to survive the cost of living crisis. Snook. Even though the name attached to this account is my working name, not my real name, I would like to remain anonymous. And this is just a disclaimer to everyone watching. If you do send in your personal confession, nothing will be included. It is 100% anonymous. I will just read what is provided. I just want to give you guys some clarity on that.

But anyways, let's continue. Due to the cost of living crisis in my country, I decided to start working as a full-service escort. I am transgender. And while I don't think I'm anything particularly special since transitioning, I have gotten a lot of attention from men. So I figured I could turn that attention into cash. As of writing, it has been eight months since I started working. It has been a mostly positive experience. and has eased the financial strain.

I live in a rural area, so when I placed my ad, I didn't expect much. But when it went live, my phone started blowing up, and I have been working steadily since. My family doesn't know what I do. I'm not close with them, but I know if they found out they would object. The only people who know our friends,

who have no connection to my family, I know my mother, who passed away a decade ago, would be very ashamed of me, and that weighs on me heavily. But I hope she understands I'm doing what I have to do to survive. A few months ago, I was essayed, and I have not told my family about this either, as it is connected to my work. So if it goes to court, it will all come out. I am in counseling, and I have recently started treatment for PTSD, and even though I have recently started treatment for PTSD, and even though I'm not close with them, I feel tremendous guilt about keeping them in the dark about it.

I didn't stop working after it happened because I am dependent on the money it brings in. It can be difficult, especially when certain aspects of my work will give me flashbacks to the night I was assaulted. Despite this, I have no regrets. I've discovered I have an affinity for this work and am good at it. Would I recommend this work to anyone else?

No. As someone who has battled mental health issues since a young age, I've struggled to find conventional employment. As much as I love what I do, it's dangerous and dirty work. I remember once while sitting at a bus stop, fixing my makeup after a session, when a teenage girl sat down next to me,

and I was tempted to tell her to stay in school and not end up like me. And all right, guys, that wraps up some disturbing viewer confessions. And what did you think about today's video? Did you find it interesting? And would you like to see more videos like this in the future? If so, please comment down below your thoughts. I read every single comment.

And it's funny because some of you guys don't believe that and will comment and be like, you're not going to read this. I always reply. And so test it out for yourself. Comment. And I will reply. If you ask, I don't reply to all. all of them just because, you know, some of them don't need a reply, I don't think.

But yeah, I read every single comments. So please leave your comments down below. And I just want to say I appreciate all of the support and love so, so much. It means the world. And if you enjoyed this video, I'm sure you will enjoy some other videos on the channel. So go check out some other videos on the channel. And once again, thank you guys so much for watching from the bottom of my heart. It truly does mean the world.

And this was Snook, and I'll see you next time. Bye.