Snook - The Internet's Most Disturbing Confessions

Episode Date: September 11, 2026

From a OP who made his wife d*e, to a user who spiraled into addiction... these are The Internet's Most Disturbing Confessions. These stories are truly some of the saddest and most depressing stories I've ever read, I hope every OP and emailer 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! Please do not attempt to contact anyone talked about in this video. Timestamps! 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

Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to the channel. And today we're getting into the internet's most disturbing confessions. And oh boy, do I have some insane, unhinged, dark, and just downright, depressing confession threats for you guys today. So make sure to stick around and I appreciate you guys stopping by means the world that makes you guys like the video and subscribe to the channel. The channel subscriber goal is 1 million subscribers before the end of the year. and I think we can do it.

Your guys' love and support has been unbelievable recently. And I just want to say welcome to all of the new viewers. You're joining one of the best communities on YouTube. So get excited. And if you're not subscribed yet, please subscribe because like I said, I genuinely believe this is the best community on YouTube. You guys are amazing. But anyways, back to the subject matter at hand.

today we're getting into some very dark and very disturbing confessions from a user who makes his wife commit S word yeah it's as dark and as heavy as it sounds to a user who spirals into drug addiction and details all of the accounts that come with that but anyways I'll quit my yapping and make sure you sit back relax grab a drink and grab a snack and without further ado Let's get into the internet's most disturbing confessions. I'm responsible for my wife's S-word. I'm not a good person. I'm selfish and I'm heartless and I don't deserve to continue living.

My wife and I were married for eight years when she committed S-word. We were the midst of a divorce at the time. I was a terrible husband in every single way possible. I did not deserve her or love her. I cheated on her. I lied to her. I got another woman pregnant. I strung her along.

I pushed her to the brink. I did not kill her, but I may as well have. My wife and I struggled with infertility, and one of the stressors in our marriage was our inability to have children. It took years of our lives, thousands of dollars, and broke our spirits. My late wife and I both wanted to have a family, desperately, and when we couldn't, it was incredibly tough. She coped with it by going into a funk and internalizing it and becoming depressed. She lost interest in almost everything in life.

She was not fun to be around, and instead of supporting her like a husband, should, I, ignored her. She was a shell of herself from her depression. I didn't even help her with it. I just ignored it. I thought if I acted like it wasn't happening, it would go away. I did everything I could to put my mind off of it. I started to go to the gym daily just to get away from my wife. I started to become friendly with a girl who ran at the same time as me. too friendly. I spent way too much time cultivating a friendship with another woman and not enough time helping my wife cope.

She became a distraction from my life with my wife and the moments I would spend with her became the highlight of my day. After a few months as friends, we ended up becoming physical. What I chose to do was despicable. I was a married man in my life. in his 30s. I took advantage of not only my wife's trust, but the trust and innocence of a young woman. Everything I did was selfish. I didn't spend a moment thinking about my wife. I was only focused

on what I wanted. And I was a crappy cheater on top of that. I didn't spend a second thinking of the consequences of my actions. Our relationship resulted in pregnancy. I've been in therapy for almost a year now, and my therapist thinks I did what I did on purpose. I don't think I intentionally tried to get her pregnant, but I certainly did nothing to prevent it. When we found out about the pregnancy, instead of confessing to my wife and begging her for forgiveness,

I convinced my girlfriend to keep the baby. I am conflicted to this day as to what the proper choice would have been. I have always wanted a child, and my daughter, is my everything. I don't think terminating her would have been appropriate, but it almost certainly would have prevented my wife's S word.

I used my girlfriend. She was not ready to be a mother. I wanted a child desperately, and when the opportunity arise, I convinced a girl who wasn't sure if she was ready to be a mother so that she could keep her child. It wasn't as despicable as what I did to my wife,

but it was not an honorable thing. I took her youth from her. I changed the path of her life and brought her into my drama. She was just a young girl who fell in love with the liar and an asshole. I stole so much from her. I've done my best to make amends, but I can't go and undo the past. If I was a decent human being, she would be a 22-year-old looking for her first job,

and having fun in school and my wife would be able to. alive. Instead, she is about to be a mother of two, and my wife is dead. I was never honest with my wife. My girlfriend was willing to have a operation to have the baby removed, but I could not swallow it. I promised her I would leave my wife for her, and after some prodding, I did. I didn't tell my wife, there was another woman, but she guessed almost immediately. Even knowing I cheated, she did not want to leave me. I still did. I strung her along for several months by telling her maybe we could work things out. I gave her false hope. In my effed up brain, I did not want my wife to move on. I wanted to have her and my girlfriend and my baby. I never told her about the pregnancy. I did my best to keep

it a secret. If she knew from day one, maybe she would have been able to cope better. When she found out, she told me what kind of effed-up monster has a child with another woman while he is married. Who does that when their wife is struggling without being able to have a children? It was the single worst thing anyone can do to her, and I did it to her. I was her husband. I was supposed to protect her. Instead, I destroyed her. I could have done more.

I could have listened to her. I could have been her friend. Instead, I ignored her and acted like she didn't exist. That was easier than facing the consequences of my actions. My wife committed S-word 10 weeks after my first child was born. It's been a year and a half

and I still think about her every single day. I see her every day when I hold my daughter. I miss you, Anna. I'm sorry. I am a coward and a monster. I should be the one dead, and you should be holding your baby. Please forgive me.

Ask me anything if you want. I will try to do and answer as many pus as I can. I am engaged in my girlfriend and our daughter is 20 months old, and we are expecting our second in November. We are a family of sorts, but my life has been a struggle. I am happy with my daughter, and I would never commit S-word. She depends on me so much, but I wish I could almost every day. And now let's get into some of the top comments.

One user says, you still don't care about your ex-wife. Half of this entry was about the 22-year-old, and a quarter about it was about you. We know more about your fiancé than we do about your dead ex-wife. There's very little guilt in your words. I could have done more. More what? You should have done less damage.

If this is not a troll post, you are a sociopath. And the OP comes back in response and says, I think this was one of my concerns after I posted this, that I might come across as a bit too much of, poor me. That was not my intention. I think I wronged more than just my wife with my actions. I negatively impacted the life many people beyond just my wife. I was trying to express regret about the negative impact I think I've had on my fiancé's life.

A sociopath lacks a conscience. I know there is nothing I can do to convince you that I have a conscience over a computer screen, but I do. You cannot begin to imagine the guilt and the shame I feel over what I've done and what I'm responsible for. And the commenter replies to the O.P. Again, it says, it's not about convincing. Conscience doesn't just suddenly appear when something irreversible happens, like a death. Conscience would have entered in before this. The part that was particularly disgusting was the bit about how your wife found out via Facebook, which meant you were callously plastering pics and updates of your new family not long after

your divorce. If you truly wanted to spare her of the pain, so much so that you couldn't even tell her to her to her face, you could have either blocked her from seeing these updates and pictures, which can easily be done, or would have created a completely separate account to share the happiness of your other family. Actions speak louder than words. There is authentic, gut-wrenching guilt, and there is slightly irritating intellectual guilt. It seems like you feel badly because society says that you should feel badly, and not much more. I'm guessing it probably feels to you

like a really annoying mosquito bite that won't go away. And you're right. It won't go away. Just my opinion. And the O.P. responds again and says, that isn't what happened. I was trying to keep the pregnancy a secret. There was absolutely no plastering of pics or updates on my Facebook. I didn't want anyone to know about the pregnancy. It was partly out of shame and wanting to prevent my wife from being hurt. The pregnancy was the single worst thing I could have done to her. She had already been getting hints from someone close to us, and the confirmation was running across a post that a friend of my fiancés put up that was public. She was blocked from our pages,

and there was no mentioning of the baby or our relationship. I wasn't out to cause my wife any undue pain. I did, but I wasn't actively trying to hurt her. I feel bad because I'm responsible for the death of someone I loved and cared about. I don't know why I didn't feel more when the affair happened. My guilt is much more than guilt because of society's expectations. I do appreciate your thoughts, though. Like I said earlier, I know I won't be able to convince anyone of anything.

And someone else says, are you happy with your fiancé? And how does she feel about all of it? And the OP response and says, I think it's difficult to find happiness when you are responsible for so much pain. I struggle with that sometimes because I feel like I don't deserve to be happy. But we have a good life together. I love her and for the most part we are happy together. We don't fight and we have a solid relationship.

She is an awesome mother and our life is from the outside at least good. I think she has been able to handle things better than I. I have. She never knew my wife on any personal level, so I'm not sure it impacted her as much, and she isn't a traditional other woman in the sense that she wasn't at all gunning for another woman's husband. I pursued her, and I was the one that made our relationship happen. I knew it was wrong, and I still did it, so I think almost all of the blame for the affair belongs to me. She does feel bad about what happens, but she subscribes the theory that my wife is responsible for her actions. And another user says, this was horrible and extremely hard to read.

You didn't write this because you feel genuine remorse. You feel guilt. You need to be pardoned for your sins. You show classic signs of a complete narcissist. This whole time, you basically. shifted the focus on how bad you feel and how crappy of a person you are because you want sympathy from others. You reek of a man-child who needs constant validation from everyone. I hope karma is still serving you harshly for what you've done because people like you may get a little better at masking

and may even reduce toxic behaviors with therapy and mental health treatment. But psychopaths and narcissists cannot be changed and cured, continue to have the life you deserve. I've secretly been a drug addict for years. Preface, I apologize if this post comes across as excessively self-indulgent and lengthy. Believe it or not, there is an equally long part two. I hoped that by writing the complete story of my addiction, I could achieve catharsis and come to terms with what has become of my life.

Some background. I believe that addictions are deeply rooted in other issues, and thus some background information seems appropriate. Ever since I was a child, I can recall being affected by significant mental health issues, including depression, anxiety, and obsessive compulsive disorder. Additionally, many of my peers have speculated that I have Asperger's syndrome, the I have not been diagnosed with it. Several doctors have even stated specifically that I do not suffer from this condition.

Psychological problems run in the family, especially depression and anxiety. After middle school, these problems became increasingly significant, though I did very well in school and graduated as Valde Victorian. I could sense that my life was spinning out of control. The summer before senior high school, I developed a profound interest in psychotropic substances. I had few friends and little to do. So I spent the entire summer researching compounds and their effects. In the beginning, I was scrupulous when choosing the substances I would actually take.

And I never took anything in reckless or ignorant manner. I experimented with and documented the effects. of nitrous oxide and about one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, 11 different substances. And he didn't mention them as numbers, but I'm just going to say that because, number one, I can't mention all these substances on YouTube, and number two, I can't even begin to pronounce them. But some notable ones are mushrooms and cratum and amphetamines.

But let's continue. And the OPE says, I respect that you please do not comment on the safety of these substances. This list is not intended to serve as an acknowledgment of which substances I consider safe, and therefore the doses have been omitted. Generally, I was able to control my drug usage very well. However, I eventually got reckless with the mushrooms. I told myself that I was taking all these drugs in a quasi-scientific manner, as it is difficult, if not impossible, to truly understand descriptions of drug effects without firsthand experience, especially in the case of psychedelics. I felt I needed to experience the ultimate psychedelic state, and I pursued this goal,

even when negative psychological reactions began to manifest. I increased the dosage from half a gram to a few, to even more, of rigorously dried mushrooms over the the course of six months and 15 trips. Needless to say, the higher dose trips, the two highest being multiple grams, were very difficult to manage. I had some incomprehensibly troubling experiences, which I had trouble integrating, though the lower dose trips were apparently beneficial. These trips seemed to exacerbate my already unstable psychological state. I became cognizant, the tenuity, of all knowledge and the lack of an objective reality. The awareness of my own assumptions, biases, and pre-conceptions

was valuable in some respects. But the uncertainty of everything made me uneasy and neurotic. I stopped using drugs and spent the rest of high school and the first two years of college trying to reassemble the pieces of my shattered ego. The summer prior to my freshman year of college, I began dating a girl from a high school. high school. This was my first serious intimate relationship. Furthermore, our personalities were antipotal, resulting in frequent conflict. She was domineering, egotistical, and materialistic,

whereas I was submissive, self-effacing, and intellectual. While I typically was traceable to her demands, I resented her attempts at control, especially her use of intimacy. as implements of manipulation. If I did something to displease her, intimate satisfaction was withheld. My friends admonished me for continuing our relationship, but I foolishly believed that I could change her and finally achieve happiness.

The one thing I always sought for was a loving relationship, and this imperfect one seemed to be the best substitute I could obtain. Despite all of the lows, the intermittent positive experiences kept me hooked. Long before I was addicted to any drug, I had no problems ceasing mushroom use once I finally attained a peak experience. I was caught up in an addictive relationship. Now the stage was set for my descent into addiction. For those readers keeping track, I now had to contend with innate mental health issues.

Psychedelic induced, psychological instability and an frequently unhappy relationship. The last straw came during the second week of May 2010, after I had completed my sophomore year as a chemistry student. The relationship between my girlfriend and me had been deteriorating for two months, to the point where we had not seen each other in over five weeks, despite my attempts at reconciliation. I finally got her agreed to a Skype call, during which she told me that she had been sleeping with an older fraternity guy for a month.

I was understandably devastated. I had spent two years fostering our relationship, foregoing friends at my school to drive to see her, instead of attempting to begin a new relationship at my college, the logical alternative, I had spent every weekend with her. Thus, my frequent S-word ideation became constant S-word ideas. being a student of chemistry and pharmacology, the ideal method seemed to be massive drug OD.

I do not know how seriously it contemplated this action, but after two weeks of misery, I decided something needed to be done. I had already tried numerous antidepressants over the previous four years, none of which affected any significant relief from my mental torment. I thought day and night about a potential solution. I seemed to be stuck in an eternal cycle of depression and anger. These thought patterns were reminiscent of the looping thoughts experienced during psychedelic trips. I was trapped on the hedonism treadmill, but seemingly powerless to change anything.

After recalling the positive results of my previous experiences, I decided to try taking them once more. I carefully considered this decision, agonizing over any possible outcome. I determined that, number one, I did not care if I died of an OD. Number two, if I become addicted, I would simply try therapy and commit S word if I failed. In number three, any other outcome could only have desirable ramifications. And so I made the faithful choice to locate and purpose to locate and purchase the narcotic known as, I can't say the name, but it is a very, very powerful painkiller pill. And let's continue. The O.P. titles the chapter, I guess, addiction, the rise.

And continues and says, during the time I've described to you, May of 2010, I was consistently feeling the worst I had ever felt in my entire life up until that point. With the exception of the temporarily limited experience of bad trips. I would like to emphasize that, knowing all I did about psychoactive substances, the choice to constantly abuse painkillers was certainly not an easy one. Past experiences were few and spaced far apart. However, by comparison to imminent S-word, the alternative of self-medication seemed attractive. On the basis of the

Ask and You Shall Receive Principle, I approached my morally questionable neighbor and inquired about painkillers. Coincidentally, he had a solid connection. And thus was able to buy me however many I wanted for the right price. Of course, which turned out to be

$1 per pill. I started off by purchasing three tablets. And despite my S word thoughts, I actually did not want to OD. And so I started with a reasonable dose of approximately a few tens of milligrams. And I divided the tablet and then took the tablet. Initially, I was decidedly underwhelmed.

I was expecting a life-changing euphoria. But instead, I felt only a pleasant warmth. This feeling was still better than what I'd had been experiencing, and thus I continued to abuse the pill. After a few more attempts, I attained the bliss I had been seeking. I was enveloped in the most beautiful, warm glow, feeling as though I was practically radiating light and empathy. All of the worries that it once besieged me simply evaporated, leaving only pure, unadulterated euphoria, I slipped into a state of diminished awareness where my mind was filled with colorful visions of a whimsical and fantastical nature. I could scarcely move.

My body was heavy, perhaps as after an exhausting run or powerful finishing. I noticed that my breathing had become slowed and intermittent, though this realization did not trouble me. I felt free to socialize, unafraid of embarrassment or rejection. This uninhibited socialization was utterly foreign to me, even under the influence of alcohol. I remained painfully self-conscious. This new painkiller allowed me to openly express myself while remaining almost perfectly lucid in reasonable doses, providing a major incentive to continue my abuse. At the time, it appeared that I had discovered the secret to happiness.

For $40 a day, I could enjoy a pleasure greater than intimacy and socialize like everyone else. I calculated how long I could sustain the joyride, based on the cost per day and the money in my savings account, which was significant as I rarely went out to do things, of course there was no one factor I failed to account for sufficiently, the inevitable tolerance which developed with prolonged use. I had anticipated a constant gradual increase,

but the reality was harshly different. Within three weeks, using four times, times per week, my preferred doses had doubled. Nevertheless, at this stage, I was still able to maintain intense euphoria simply by increasing the dose, a luxury which was also lost over time. As anyone familiar with addictions knows, this state of affairs was hopelessly unsustainable. Eventually, my usage would increase to a point that would be too costly to support. I would then either quit or find a novel way to support my habit. One month for my first dose, however, this time was still a long ways off. With my newfound confidence, I was able to find a girl

to begin dating from one of my chemistry classes. She seemed primarily concerned with physical intimacy, which was fine by me. I was especially pleased to discover that she was strongly submissive, exactly the opposite of my previous girlfriend. With my drug-fueled confidence, I finally got a taste of satisfying intimate relationship. In just one month, the pill had completely revolutionized my life. I went from feeling like a depressive, s-word loser, to a sexy, outgoing stud.

Everything wasn't perfect, obviously. while the afterglow was still significant, leaving me content even the day after using, I noticed that a significant depression returned after two days without the pill. There was also the hassle of meeting my contact and pain for the substance. Nonetheless, these all seemed like minor inconveniences, considering the benefits I had realized from regular dosing. Besides, there was a simple solution to the creeping depression. more frequent dosing.

I began dosing every other day, then every day, then multiple times every day. I wasn't too concerned because the semblance of withdrawal was manageable, and I continued to have a significant cash reserve. More seriously, I moderately OD'd on one occasion. While I did not pass out, I became increasingly dizzy,

nauseous. I usually had no issues with nausea, even at high doses, and confused. Unlike my first dangerously high dose, I had no colorful visions and no euphoria. I felt like I was constantly about to faint, even standing up, and it took all of my willpower to retain consciousness. I would not feel the need to breathe for a minute, and then constantly gas for air. Obviously, this incident was rather disturbing. Nevertheless, the good times continued to roll. I had an amazing Fourth of July and loved going to the beach and basking in the sun

while my body was blissfully warm and numb. At home, I no longer felt imprisoned, but was content to relax and listen to music, particularly hard rock, such as lead Zeppelin, or play video games, appropriately enough, oblivion. One of my more embarrassing yet sensually gratifying experiences or activities after large doses was lying on a velvet blanket while dragging it across my bare skin. I no longer craved intimacy with anyone else.

I could achieve more pleasure non-intimately by myself. Unfortunately, the honeymoon phase was finite. I began to become concerned after I went on vacation for four years. days with my family. I decided to test myself by not bringing any drugs on the trip, just to ensure that I could still be happy without them. By the end of the first day, I noticed the onset of a psychological withdrawal symptom. I was constantly thinking about how I could obtain some pills. Perhaps there was a bar I could go to where someone was selling them. Or maybe I could find someone on the beach and identify them online, or maybe. My thought,

of the high were ceaseless, though I was certainly disturbed by these manifestations of my developing addiction. I purchased more pills the first day I got home. Three weeks later, reality was quickly setting in, and I had only a couple of weeks of summer vacation remaining. I resolved to immediately stop all drug use, and so I did. There was no physical withdrawal, just the same psychological symptoms mentioned previously. Once I got back to college, it became clear that staying sober would be a daunting task. I had to complete large amounts of work, as well as confront my posity of friends. The mental health issues I suffered with before beginning, the drug use resurfaced,

though my summertime glimpse of normalcy had dampened them somewhat, because the withdrawal was not terribly difficult, I foolishly decided to resume my pill habit once more. This mistake cost me dearly, as that previous kick was to be the last time I could quit without physical withdrawal symptoms. Addiction. The Fall

After a month of using, it was now the end of October, and my bank balance was finally dwindling, to a concerning level. Additionally, I had increased my dosage to over 100 milligrams each day, and as a result, experienced some very negative highs. After an especially large dose, I became horribly confused. Unlike the pleasant nod I once had, I had experienced disorientation with little euphoria.

My breathing was erratic, and I would suddenly gasp for air after not breathing for long periods of time. Though I don't want to believe I completely lost consciousness, I would fade into a dreamlike state where I thought I was doing something else, such as getting a drink of water. I would physically act out my dream, for example, by lifting my hand to my mouth, then regain awareness and realize I was actually just lying in bed. I had trouble remembering trivial details about myself and had no sense of time. I was also irrationally scared, and I believed I would be imminently harmed by some malevolent force. This confusion and macabre emotion lasted for six hours. It's worth mentioning that the constipation was also horrendous.

Sometimes necessitating bathroom breaks over an hour. hour long. I could sense that I was quickly losing any control of my drug usage. I desperately wanted to stop, as the drawbacks were beginning to outweigh the benefits. I figured the psychological withdrawal would be a small price to pay for averting potential disaster. When I ceased using this time, however, the withdrawal had a physical component as well. I had moderate flu-like symptoms, including running nose, watery eyes, muscle aches, goosebumps, fever, chills, diarrhea, sweating, and restless legs. I had never endured a physical withdrawal, and I was greatly alarmed that I had become physically dependent on drugs. The psychological symptoms were also worse, with significant depression, anxiety, and even time dialy.

After four days, the symptoms finally subsided, and I even experienced a euphoria, sometimes known as the pink cloud. I was elated to be free of my increasingly burdensome addiction. Tragically, things did not end there, and I deeply regret my subsequent choices. I was dumped by my summertime lover and resumed dating my ex-girlfriend from high school. The stress of this relationship, along with that of coursework, was getting to me. I began running, as I had read that exercise is very beneficial for sober addicts. I was able to stay sober until the end of December. At the beginning of winter break, I was so bored as nothing was as interesting sober as it was on drugs.

I was watching a show which I had loved watching high. My cravings were immediately triggered. I tried to resist, but I couldn't help doing it one more time, especially after being clean for so long. I expected the euphoria to be like that was at the beginning of my drug usage. But disappointingly, that was not the case. Despite the lack of intense euphoria, my love of drugs resourged. I had intended to take pills only once, but my weakness got the best of me.

I took it every day during winter break and continued doing so for over a month back at college. By now, my doses were reaching upwards of 120 milligrams, and the habit was having devastating financial consequences. I once again tried to quit, and predictably my withdrawal. was even worse. The restless legs were especially brutal. I didn't sleep more than an hour a night for two weeks, but I managed to continue to attend class and complete my assignments. I was now suffering almost unbearable symptoms, physically as well as mentally. I knew I was in deep, but after the symptoms finally subsided, I relapsed again within a couple of weeks. I was greatly discouraged by these pathetic failures. In order to pay for the exorbitant costs, I had spent my entire 5,000 tuition

refund. I will not explain the shameful methods by which I obtained such refund. About a month later, after using 180 milligrams per day, I mustered the courage to endure the torturous withdrawal once more. In addiction to the greatly exaggerated withdrawal symptoms, something else was disturbingly different about this withdrawal. After two weeks, I still felt very far from normal. I was having trouble sleeping more than four hours of night, and I was very depressed and anxious. Even an additional week provided little improvement. Instead of the four-day withdrawal I once had, I now felt horrible even three weeks after stopping. This realization led to yet another relapse.

When I tried to quit again a couple months later in April, I determined I needed a different approach. I went to a rehab clinic, and after the request 24 hours in withdrawal, I was given my dose to help. I expected to feel normal, but the withdrawal did not abate significantly. I thought about trying a stronger pill but didn't.

However, when I told my doctor, he was incredulous and accused me of lying. I tried to explain that I had resisted the urge, but I wondered how they would be able to tell this from the urine sample, since the pill from two days ago would likely still be present. This comment led to a severe berating, though I eventually got my dose. appalled by this condescending attitude, I left with my pill tablets never to return. Knowing the pharmacology of whatever pill I had, I realized that the few milligrams I had was an excessive and senseless dose. The chemical inside this pill acts as a high affinity mixed agonist antagonist. It has a sealing effect and high doses only.

only serve to block the receptor in your brain. Clinically, this is useful. Patients are prevented from abusing their drug of choice. I will admit the possible role of the chemical for the sake of brevity. The result of all this jargon is that I knew I could take one milligram without it being too much weaker than the multiple milligram dose. Thus, I was able to extend three days of the pill into three weeks. of it, without much discomfort after the first few days.

I did not even notice the drastic dosage drop, which never would be the case with full agonist drugs like the pill. The rationale was that I was out of college for the summer after those three weeks, so I could focus on quitting. I also tapered the dosage, which is easier with long-acting drugs. Valiantly, I stopped taping. taking the pill after only a few days out of school. I was determined not to fall into a complacent usage pattern as I had done before.

This withdrawal was hell on earth. I was drenched in sweat, writhing on my bed for a week straight, unable to sleep at all. There was no respite from the misery. Even some other medicine failed to provide solace. I was still feeling physically ill and hopeless by the third week. The withdrawal seemed never ending, a perception no doubt bolstered by the extreme time dilation I experienced. I was completely depressed. I felt as though I would never experience any happiness again, and certainly nothing bearing any semblance to euphoria.

The S word ideations had also received. returned and they were as bad as ever. I was result on not returning to drug use, and I scarcely had the funds to do so. I was looking for anything to alter my state of mind. I came across a bag of Kratum for months ago. That is how I maintained the addiction for nearly an additional two years. For those who have never heard of Kratum, it is a tree from Southeast Asia that contains gains alkaloids, which act as a something mu receptor agonist, as well as many other alkaloids with various activities, some of which seemed to mitigate addiction to some extent. I did not expect much, but a tea made from this material provided nearly complete relief

of my symptoms. Shockingly, this relapse did not result in exacerbated symptoms once the drug wore off. With the pill, even if I took only one dose after being cleaned for a month, I would experience intense withdrawal symptoms. It seemed like a miracle, but this was also too good to be true. After taking it for two months, I had a severe withdrawal upon stopping. I resigned myself to using Kratum indefinitely, and that's what I did. From June 2011 until the present day, I have taken dried, ground, cratum every single day.

This dosage I'm taking is extremely high, but makes sense when compared to the other pills and painkillers I was taking daily at my peak. Kratum is also much cheaper than prescription painkillers, which is what allowed my uninterrupted habit. The withdrawal is also not as intense, but it is still severe enough to keep me using. It has some drawbacks, however. Cratum is quite short-acting, and thus I need to dose many times per day.

It also is a pain to make, and an even bigger pain to toss and wash the dry powder. The tea tastes very bitter, and the powder is likely to induce horrendous gagging if swallowed improperly. Therefore, Cratum cannot be used as easily as prescription painkillers. On many occasions, though, I've made the tea in public without attracting too much attention. If you saw someone making what was apparently macha with a coffee press, perhaps on an airplane at the movies and the mall, etc., it could have been me. While using Kratum, I graduated from college with a BS degree, with a GPA over 3.7, and maintained my tumultuous relationship with that same girl from high school.

However, that is not to imply that the addiction has not had seen. serious consequences. I've been out of college for almost a year with no job. I cannot leave the house for extended periods of time because of the rapid onset of withdrawals. The reason I don't have a job. My friends, many of whom I met only because of my painkiller confidence, are worried. I am penniless because I need to spend all my money on cradum and my loans are delinquent. Thus I once again would like to attempt to quit. And that is why I have written this post. I would like to see where I've been in order to avoid the same mistakes in the future.

I know this path will not be easy, but you don't realize how strong you are until strong is your only option. Sorry if I butcher that quotation. If anyone has read my entire story, I sincerely thank you for taking that time to do so. even if you have not read everything please comment and share your opinions with me i highly value others experiences since i fully acknowledge the limitations of my understanding success stories are especially encouraged finally i'd be glad to answer any questions you might have for example no i was not on amphetamine or any other drug besides cratum when i wrote this i rarely take anything besides my usual cratum doses. And then also in the TLDR, the opi added some extra details and says, I'm sick of all the

crap I've done because of my addiction. I've stolen pills, obtain money through dishonest means, lied to my friends and family, and even taken pills that I scraped up off the bathroom floor. I hope I can put this behind me and lead a normal, honest life. I regret that some seem to be disappointed by the lack of a dramatic ending. The conclusion may seem anti-climatic because I never turned to serious H use. My connect fell through before I received my first bundle, got arrested slash incarcerated, held up a pharmacy, OD'd and was saved solely by one of my friends, or as per pulp fiction, adrenaline, injection, etc. However, I believe this story illustrates an important aspect

of addiction. In contrast to the swift, dramatic consequences of drug use often portrayed on television, real addictions are often more subtle, though they may very well destroy one's life in the end. The damage usually happens gradually. Thus, one may be complacent and not recognize the seriousness of the issue until it is too late. I personally was not aware that I had lost control until long after I became addicted. When in doubt, stop. And now let's get into some of the top comments. One user says,

okay, I will lay out some truth for you, but you might not be ready to hear it. You are a drug addict. You need to become comfortable with this notion. You're not a physical addict or any other BS. You're a full-blown chronic addict. You're not just a pill addict. You are addicted to changing your mental state to blunt unwanted feelings.

And sadly, you are an addict for life. The good news is that you can overcome this, and there are plenty of people who will help you. I am an addict. I've gone on a path similar to yours. I was on pills for two years, and the withdrawal was more awful than I can. say. Yes, I got there through pills. I really believe that you need to be honest with your family and go to rehab. You've already discovered that getting physically clean doesn't get you far when you don't tackle the mental game. I'm not an AA fanatic. I believe you do whatever necessary to get real recovery.

I almost lost my son because of this disease. What I do is see a therapist every week. occasionally I will go to an AA meeting that I like and I will willingly do random drug testing and have the results sent to my ex-wife. But this is my path. Yours will be totally different. I wish you all the luck in the world. You can DM me and I will be happy to help in any way that I can. And the OP response and says,

Thank you for your sincere words of encouragement and inspiration. One of the reasons I made this post was to force myself to face up to what I've done, so that I can hopefully confess to my family next. I feel that emotional support is invaluable. In all of my previous attempts to quit, my girlfriend, one of the few who knows of my problem, has been less than understanding and thus exacerbated my depression. I even regretted divulging my secret to her, as she has threatened to blackmail me on several occasions.

I believe that my family members will be more helpful as I strive towards sobriety. And someone else says, thanks for taking the time to share this. It's not easy to be a human being in this world, especially an intelligent and sensitive one. So many people try to find ways to cope, be it with pills or alcohol or caffeine or intimacy, you are not alone in the struggle.

and we have never heard from the OP ever again, but this was posted 14 years ago, so I really hope that the OP was able to, you know, kick this horrible, horrible drug addiction, and get sober, get healthy, and be happy. I, 27 male, was drugged and R-worded by a man a couple nights ago, and I don't care. I was at a party a couple of nights ago.

I had gotten there at 7 p.m. and had two beers during my stay. I've had some addiction problems in the past and I'm pretty close to being clean now. Hence the reason I only had two beers. It was around 1 a.m. and I was sitting in the living room watching Nathan for you with this guy. I met earlier that night. He was a pretty cool dude and he liked Nathan for you so we hit it off pretty quick. So we are watching TV and all of a sudden he starts to come up. up to me. He asked me if I've ever considered having intimacy with a man, to which I responded,

sorry, man, but I'm into women. But I also told him that I'm completely fine with his intimate orientation, and that it did not affect my ability to have a friendship with him. He backs off with his flirting, and we continue to watch TV. After about 20 minutes or so, he asked me if I want another drink. Since I was completely sober at this point, I said, sure. He brought me a vodka tonic. I took a few sips and I noticed that I was getting a lot more drunk than usual and I was really wobbly. That is the last thing I remember. I woke up the next morning in the guest room with a crushing headache and I noticed that my jeans were pulled down barely past my ass.

I don't want to be crude, but my butt was very sore. It felt like I had a cold for some reason. My throat was very sore, and every time I coughed to try and clear the phlegm, it caused me to, I'm not even going to read it, but basically, his butt hurts a lot. I realized that I had been R-worded. I pulled up my pants and left the house. I got in my car and drove back to my apartment. I didn't really feel anything.

I'm not sad or angry. I don't feel anything. At first, I thought it was just shock. But it's been three days, and I still don't really care. Almost like it didn't affect me at all. I went to the doctor yesterday to get my butt looked at and to get a STD screening. I suffered a fissure because of forced entry.

I'm still waiting on the STD results. Edit, I visited the police, the STD test was inconclusive, and I will have to return at another time. And now let's get into some of the top comments. One user says, so I have PTSD. The I don't care thing you're talking about sounds a lot like you're experiencing something called disassociation. Victims of trauma do this, subconsciously, and without control, in order to code. with the traumatic event. I would make an appointment to at least see a therapist to talk about this when the disassociation

eventually wears off. Your mind has decided to not completely process this event. They can help you do that. And another user says, it sounds like you do care, but that you don't allow yourself to care. It sounds to me that you are defending yourself from your own feelings by acting cold about it. I do it too, and it is not healthy. You need to go to the police. If not for you, then for the next victim.

If he is the kind of person who would drug you and arwards you, he could easily do it to someone else. You owe it to yourself and any other future victim that. He may not end up being convicted of anything since it's been a few days, and most of the proof is probably gone by now, but if he ever R-Words someone else and they decide to report it, then his records will show that he was accused of it before

and that will help the next person. I am so sorry to hear what has happened to you. And the O.P. Comment says, I went to the police. And another user says, if you're writing this on Reddit, you probably do care about what happened deep down. You should totally sue him.

Go to the police. I know it's super hard. because of the shame you might feel, but he's the only person who should be ashamed of himself. My best friend has been R-worded two years ago in a similar situation. She also didn't feel anything, like nothing had happened for the first month. She blamed herself for what happened and could not accept it. She told me the guy slipped a pill in her drink, that she only remembers a few horrible scenes from the night before,

that she woke up with bruises and pains everywhere. But she kept trying to convince herself that she was dreaming it, where it never happened. She wanted to take the pill. Nothing to worry about numbness? Our word victims have a hard time accepting it. I have not been able to convince her to go to the police. This guy started following and threatening us both not to sue him.

I eventually did it after one year for the both of us. That's when my friend started to see a psychologist and really started understanding what happened and healing a little. must be so much harder in your situation being a man. The person who did this to you is human trash and needs to be punished. You deserve to be refunded for what you're going through. Even just to pay your medical exams in psychotherapy. And he deserves to be in jail.

Suppressing your feelings isn't always the right thing to do. And it can be freaking exhausting. I hope this helps you a little. Hugs from Italy. And the opi response. and says, I'm bothered by the fact that I'm not elicitating a proper emotional response to the fact that I was unwillingly effed in the butt. That's why I shared it on Reddit. Sometimes writing something down and getting other people's perspective on it can help you heal.

And another user says, Jesus, that's horrible. Have you considered at least reporting him? The man is a full-on predator and arwardess. He should be locked up. it does happen to women as well that they don't feel bad or anything after being R-worded and as you can't remember the experience I'm sure that helps but I'd still report him

and the OPEE responds and says I went to the police and reported him I didn't know his last name though so there isn't much they can do unless someone else reports a man with the same name and description and the person responds back to the OP and says nobody at the party knows the guy the host of the party

and the OPE responds and says I didn't actually know anyone at the party I went there with a Tinder date but that didn't really work out and she left around 9pm because she had work in the morning first date speak for your personality is so deplorable that I wouldn't even hate F you

to save my own mother so there I was at a party full of complete strangers that my only connection to was that they were my failed Tinder dates friends friends chances are I'd never see any of these people again in my life, so I decided that I would stay and see what happens. I have a profound interest in drunk people,

and it's even more interesting when you yourself are sober. They'll tell you their deepest secret and not even think twice about it. I asked this incredibly wasted man at the party if he was sad about anything, to which he responded that he was upset that his girlfriend wouldn't participate in his diaper interest with him. I don't use this information in any sort of nefarious way. It's just an interesting experiment on human sociology. It helps me with my writing as well.

It allows me to create more complex characters with unknown motives. I don't know why any of that was necessary to answer your question. TLDR didn't know anyone. I physically abused my girlfriend. I never thought I would be writing something like this, but here I am. I used to think it was disgusting how someone could abuse their wife, girlfriend, or loved one until I did it myself. Well, I met my girlfriend in my second year college. She was a year younger than me and a really nice girl. Quarky, really pretty, long black hair, bubbly, and a very entertaining person to be

around. I could tell she liked me from my limited interaction with her in one of our common classes. To cut a long story short, she really liked me. And we hit it off. Eventually, we started dating. Everything was fine for the first six to seven months, and then it all went down the drain. The thing is, I was always a very egoistic, aggressive, and my way or the highway type of person deep down. I grew up in a very rich family and played football in school and in college, just used to getting my way with everyone. I know it's terrible, but please, let's go on. We started disagreeing on little things, and from there on it eventually escalated. One day, we had a huge fight in which I abused her and said really hurtful things on text. She cried a lot and said she wanted to speak to me.

She spoke and she basically gave in to everything I wanted, which was unreasonable AF, but I got my way. Again, she really liked me, so she kind of let me control her in that way. A couple of weeks later, we fought over the same thing, and I lost all effing control. I will not go into details, sorry, but I abused her. She then said something that was hurtful and it got to me in the heat of the moment. I just lost it again. I abused her again, and this time she started crying on the floor. She did not get up and just laid there crying.

Then a few minutes later, it hit me what I had done, and I was an utter shock. I felt broken and effing disgusted at myself. I, as a grown-up man, had beaten a five-four tall woman who was 130 pounds, lighter than me and a foot shorter. She was on the floor and crying, bruised all over. She ran away from my apartment and I just sat there. Fast forward to 2018, eight months later, I still think about this almost every day.

I cannot get the image of her lying on the ground and crying outside of my head. I feel ashamed, sad, and disgusted. I cry a lot and wonder how I ever broke, such a sweet little girl's heart and soul like that. I just saw the news about Cream Hunt abusing that woman and kicking her. Then it hit me all like a truck today, and I felt depressed again. I think about it every effing day and feel absolutely terrible.

I manipulated her, abused her, and treated her feelings like effing crap, all because I knew she would let me take advantage of her because she really liked me. I feel ashamed of myself. I am so sorry. S. And now let's get into some of the top comments. One user says,

So I just want to be the tough love person here and say, you have got to go get professional help. Sure, you feel bad now, but if you don't dramatically change course, you will do this to another girl. She did nothing to deserve physical violence. So don't try to say this with some kind of special circumstance.

You are a threat to any future relationship until you make some big changes. The choice is yours. Another user says, if you haven't apologized to the girl yet, then you should. It won't change everything you did to her, but it may bring closure. And the O.P. response and says, I did apologize, but she said she will never forget what I did. and she cannot forgive me for it. And someone responded and said,

Understandable. Learn from the mistake. And all right, guys, that wraps up some of the internet's most disturbing confessions. I really hope you enjoyed today's video. If you did, make sure to like the video and subscribe to the channel. I really do appreciate all of the support.

It like means the world. You guys are legit, the best community on YouTube. So thank you guys so, so much for watching. And if you'd like to support me some more, you can follow me over on Instagram, follow me over on Spotify, and subscribe to the Patreon for early access to every single video I release. And yeah, 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 you guys are the best. And this was Snook. and I'll see next time. Bye.