Snook - Unexplainable Anonymous Confessions

Episode Date: May 14, 2025

I appreciate everyone who sent in there stories! I really appreciate it, and hopefully my feedback helped! Did you agree or disagree with me? Let me know in the comments below. If you enjoyed please like and subscribe, thank you. And also let me know if you would like to see more videos like this in the future.If you would like to submit a confession, please send to this email... [e-mail] and like for more, thank you for watching, and stay safe... Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to another anonymous confessions video, and these are all confessions you guys of the Snook channel have sent in. So these are all authentic, all real, and all just some unexplainable, disturbing, and unsettling confessions. And I appreciate every single person who has sent in a confession. I really appreciate your openness and willingness to share with the channel. And if you'd like to send in a confession of yours, send to the email on screen that you see right now. I'd love to read your confession. I read all the emails I get, but I get a lot of them so I can only include a certain amount for each video, but I'll try to get through them all and put them all into a video and leave my feedback on them. Thank you so much

for watching and thank you so much for just sticking around and please like the video and subscribe to the channel. I appreciate you all. And now without further ado, let's get into some unexplainable anonymous confessions. Hey, Snook. First of all, I like to thank you for your top-notch content. When I saw your confessions video, I thought of two things. How deeply I appreciate the safe space you have made and how I really need to get this one off my chest. This is something nobody knows. Even my husband, which I have known for seven years and married for three, only my therapist knows, so here it goes. I, 30 years old, live in a Middle Eastern country. Not an Arab one, I can't say more than that. I'm positive no one from my social circle

is interested in this kind of content and will not come across it at all. despite the fact that it's very deep and stressful to me. So I can't say where I'm from, and if you need to call me Ruru. I remember having an uncle who no longer exists. This is not a ghost story, not a doppelganger, or even a metaphysical experience. It's a story of a man who got caught in addiction and slowly faded. When I was little girl, even before the edge of school, I remember him vividly, a tall, tan man with a very handsome figure.

He was my mom's brother and my only uncle. I have memories of him carrying me on his shoulder, taking me for ice cream, and playing in the park. Then, slowly, he came home less often. My grandma and my mom started arguing with him. I remember them crying, shutting the door in my face since they thought it was too much for a kid to handle, but I understood it completely. He had gotten into heroin. He must have been around 22 or 23 at the time. Since I know he's the second child and younger than my mom, he was a soldier back then.

military service is compulsory here, and in his base he had some bad friends who offered him opium, then cocaine, and at last heroin, which worked like an eraser. Drugs erased him from my family, from our memories, and even from himself. He slept in the streets, started stealing gold and pricing materials from our homes, and after some time didn't come home at all. One of my first memories, which has become a core memory for me, is a very unfortunate one, including him. I was in my room. My mom emphasized I don't come out since she had a very important phone call. I was peeping from the very small gap left from the door being shut and watching my mom and grandma calling the police and my uncle.

By then, he had sunk deep and was at a very awful state. This was after multiple interventions, rehab visits, and countless efforts by my family. My grandma called the police, said there's an addict right across the street dealing and using heroin right now, and demanded an arrest. She cried uncontrollably, and my mom did too. I saw this at six years old, a desperate mom, calling the cops on his own son, and just crying like crazy. They thought I didn't know. I kept asking where Uncle Deere was, and all they told me was, he's on a trip or went away for some time. This was the 90s in the Middle East, so people weren't thinking about taking a little girl to therapy to cope with this type of loss.

I don't remember if this was the last time he was here, but I know he kept peeking back. He went away from her lives, but showed up in small glances. I remember two or three family supported rehab efforts, like some years later. My mom's friend called from another city and told us he found her address and went there asking for money. I cried while writing this. One time I overheard my dad telling my mom that he saw him sitting on a road out of town begging. I asked dad, who? Who was sitting there? silence.

Utter silence. In the following years, the family started ripping him off from the old albums. That athletic, handsome young boy, smiling to the camera, suddenly became a space. Last week, I saw a wedding photo of my mom and dad from 1992. He was there in the background. A tall figure overshadowing everyone else. Smiling with confidence. Unaware he was going to be completely erased.

I couldn't look anywhere else in the picture. I only saw him. Why didn't anyone tell me where he went? Or is he even alive now? I was a child, but I thought I could handle it. I imagine this is the rube of my fascination with all the dark, mysterious, and creepy material, especially in the genre of missing people. I read their files and articles daily.

I'm fascinated by them. Where are they? What happened to them? Why did my family stop looking for him? He was far too deep in to be saved. I understand that. But wouldn't a grave be nice, a physical place for his mother, now 70 years old, with multiple psychological issues to grieve his son?

He just vanished into thin air. And worst, talking about him became taboo. My grandma started telling everyone that he only had two daughters. In forms and medical history exams, we all wrote the same thing. I went to school telling everyone I only had an aunt and things went on like he just never existed. I started to search for him in my 20s. I searched Scrave websites. both of my hometown and the capital where I reside now.

I ran through missing person databases multiple times. I even thought about going to be one of the famous shows that do this kind of thing, reunited families, helping people become clean, saving abused women, like a Middle Eastern doctor, Phil. I called the show. They started evaluating but needed documents. And all documents that were gone. My grandma is not in a state to help me find a birth certificate of such things, and the families moves on. I sometimes dream about them.

I remember seeing the world as a kid on my uncle's shoulders. I miss him when I see people my age with good supportive uncles, with big families who are close. So this is my confession. Thanks, Snook, Antfor. Everyone's seeing this. Please tell your children the truth. Let them grief.

And just, wow, that was a great, greatly written story and confession. just the way you kind of using an analogy of an eraser how heroin is an eraser wow that was just I don't know that really stunned me and a very emotional story very touching as well thank you so much for sharing

I really appreciate you opening it up and just be willing to share with the channel and with me yeah I think a lot of people will gain great value from this story and from this confession and it's just important to be open. Talk to people.

Out of all the confessions I've read, just talk to people, but it sounds like you're in this scenario where it's hard to talk to people because, like you said, it's taboo for your family. And I don't know if you'll ever find out what happened to your uncle,

but keep searching, keep looking, and maybe one day you'll find them, hopefully. But I wish you best of luck, and thank you so much for sharing. I appreciate it so much. On to the next one. Hi, Snook. I want to start off by saying thank you for uploading the anonymous confessions. It has given me the courage to submit my own. I've been enjoying your videos for quite some time,

and it seems like you've created a safe community for me to talk about this, and maybe get some decent advice on. I really cannot stand my partner's family, and it's starting to become a problem in our relationship. There is so much to unpack, but I will try to keep it as short as possible. Before anyone judges me, please hear me out first. I, 29 female, have been with my boyfriend, 25 male, for three years now, and I love this man so much. He is everything I never expected I would find in a partner. He is kind, he is loving, he is a protector and a provider. Overall, it's been the healthiest relationship I have ever been in.

The only thing that I struggle with is his family. Now, I know I may sound like an insecure, crazy girlfriend that wants my boyfriend's attention only, but let me provide you some context before you judge. My partner's family is very toxic but tight knit. Honestly, it's such a weird dynamic that it's hard to explain, so let me give you some context to help paint a picture. When I first started dating my boyfriend, he was still living under his parents' roof and was miserable. He was 22, but his parents were incredibly strict about him only being allowed to go to work and the gym. Anything besides that was not allowed, so we most He mostly texted or he would see me for an hour after work, lying to his parents saying he had to work later.

A month into dating, he'd gotten into a huge fight with his parents. I will spare the details, but basically they violated a huge boundary of his. Then gas lit him, which is the usual. But he ended up moving out and moving in with his friend. When he moved out, his mother blamed me, the girlfriend for being the moving factor behind him moving out of the house and not taking any responsibility for her part in it. To this day, they never have apologized or acknowledged it with my boyfriend. They just choose to dead the matter.

When my boyfriend did eventually move in with me, that was another huge fight with his family. They would always disrespect both his and our boundaries. Like, for example, if he said he didn't want to be around a certain family member, they would have him come home and that family member would be there. When he would try to talk to his parents about it, they would just brush it off and tell him he needed to stop overreacting. Another example, if we were, hanging out and they called, he would cancel our plans and rush back home to them. When they would call, he was expected to drop everything and come home. I almost left him because of it, but he was able to set better

boundaries. However, it's been two years now, and his family would still call and try to interrupt on our date nights, which is the same day every week and has been for over two years. Also, keep in mind, he visits his family twice a week consistently. There's a lot of other stuff I would name in here, but the biggest thing that made me realize I could never respect them is when my partner confined to me that his dad did stuff to him when he was a young kid. I have to censor, but I'm sure you understand what I'm referring to. When he spoke to his siblings about the abuse, they begged not to tell their mom because she would not be able to handle it

and because he, my partner, would be the one to break up the family. His father was financing his sister's life while in med school, and she was more worried about how a divorce would affect her livelihood than her brother being born. victimized. From that point on, I knew I could never be okay with how they treated my boyfriend when he opened up to them about his trauma. After two years of being together, his family finally invited me to holiday dinners because it's always been so awkward and I dread going because the only person that ever wants me to be there is my boyfriend. His family makes it very clear. They do

not want me to be there, but I show up from my partner since it's only twice a year that I have to. When I am there, his dad will always cut me off. when I'm speaking and he always makes little friendly jabs about my eating choices. I'm a vegetarian and every single dinner I go to, he's always bringing it up or holding meat up to my face to get me to try it as if magically it will change me at 29. My boyfriend will jump in and tell him to stop it, but it just still happens every dinner. There's a lot more worse things they have done and said, but I'm trying to keep as brief as possible. Another example, maybe small, but I have really great job and I am a director of operations for property management company. It's a super corporate job with a lot of

responsibilities, but I do well for myself. During the holidays one year, I got a 75-inch TV for the apartment, and my boyfriend told his dad about it because he was excited. That Christmas dinner, his dad brought me to their living room to point out the 85-inch TV he just brought, and point-blink asked me if I noticed the difference in size between our TVs. My boyfriend tells me how he wants me to work harder at having a relationship with them, how they are trying, but I need to try to. He gets upset because I am still on speaking terms with multiple ex's parents and family, but I don't bother to get that close to his. It's just that they continuously do things to make me not want to be around them. Every time he talks to me about the horrible things they continue to do to him, on the outside, I try to give him the benefit

of the doubt and say things like, maybe they did this because of that, but on the inside it boils my blood. I do my very best not to say anything bad about them to him. I am in therapy and my therapist says to keep playing the indifferent and neutral partner because ultimately it is his family and I have to support how he chooses to move with those relationships. However, I know in my gut this is not a family I would ever want to marry into. I love my boyfriend so very much. He is the sweetest, most purest man I have ever met, but I cut my toxic bio family off for my own piece. Can I really put up with this? He keeps talking about our future in the next steps, and I know he's discussing marriage in a few years,

but I really don't know if I can marry into this toxic family dynamic. I can't even imagine having his children knowing what I know about his dad did and how the rest of his family is willing to protect him. Is it even possible to be happy together, even though I am not cool with his family? In my boyfriend's defense, every time they have been rude to me, he does stand up for me, but I make it a point to stay. stay away from them as much as possible. However, his family is starting to notice I do not accept their invites and are beginning to question it. I also know that if we were to get married, because my

boyfriend is the oldest son of a traditional family, I would have to start making more of an effort with his family, which is hard because they do awful things to each other. Talking about marriage makes me sick literally for the fact that I would be married into his family. I don't know if I can do it. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my long post, and any helpful advice would be welcomed. Thank you so much for sharing the story. I really appreciate it. And I think some advice I would have is tell them exactly what you told me in this email. Say, I don't know if I could move forward with the next steps in a relationship, i.e. marriage or whatever else you guys decide to do, unless you get the family sorted out. And you should tell them just kind of bluntly that

I just don't know if this will work out if these family issues keep on. going on. And I think your therapist advice could be helpful, but it's not very productive. It just kind of keeps you neutral, which could be a good thing, but also a bad thing. I think it's just good to tell them bluntly, hey, I don't know if this relationship will work out because your family is so, you know, horrible to be around. And that's a big factor in a relationship, you know, their family. and so I would really tell them about this. And I think you should just honestly tell them exactly what you told me in this email.

And I'm sure a lot of people watching will have a good feedback for you. So everyone watching, please give some feedback to this nice lady. And, you know, maybe help her out and give her some guidance. But you got this. You'll figure it out.

And thank you so much for sharing. And I hope that my advice was a little bit of a help. You'll get it figured out. Thank you so much for sharing. On to the next one. I have ignored my father for years and I don't feel bad. Hey, Snook, before I start my confession, I just wanted to let you know how much I love your videos, I watch them while crafting or while I fall asleep.

Anyways, here's my confession. I've ignored my father for years and I don't feel bad. I've never talked about this as deeply as I'm going to, but I figured it's time to get it out somewhere. My apologies if the story is on the longer side, I'll try to keep the details as a minimum for some things. My whole life, my father has been an alcoholic. When I was younger, I wasn't aware of what was going on. During the day, he would be a normal, funny dad, but once it turned to IT, he would start acting super strange, and sometimes when my mom called him out, he would get this violent look on his

face like he was going to punch something. I can still picture it perfectly when I think about it. One time, I was in the car with him alone, while it was dark out. I can't remember where we were going, He ended up driving the wrong way on a one-way road, and a car almost hit us while honking its horn. On another occasion, I used to be best friends with this one girl. And one time, we were in the car with my dad. I being in the passenger seat and her being in the backseat. I don't recall what the conversation was that led to this happen, but at one point, we were all laughing because she said something funny. Then my dad turned around, grabbed her leg, and shook it while laughing and saying her nickname.

It's a little hard to describe, and it may not sound that bad when I type of. it out, but in the moment, I just felt so uncomfortable and stopped laughing after that. At other times, he would pretend to have a heart attack or something and fall into the fridge or on the floor, and when my sister and I stopped paying attention to it, he would say, you wouldn't care if I died, or one day I will die and you'll miss me. Anyways, fast forward to a while later when I was 14, and my mom finally decided enough was enough and wanted to divorce him. The process took a long time, and before they were legally divorced, she, told him he could sleep on the couch in the basement because he didn't have a place to stay.

I came home from school one day to him shouting at literally nothing in the basement, just loudly talking to himself about how my pop-pop, my mom's dad, is a piece of trash and making fun of his stuttering. Well, my pop-pop is the best and not even close to a piece of trash. Sure, he stutters and he's old and his mouth moves faster than his brain. Anyways, I go down to the basement and see him sitting on the couch with a huge bottle of straight vodka on his hand. I screamed at him to stop talking about him

and how he's a piece of trash, not my pop-pop, or whatever I said. I went upstairs, called my mom, and told her what was happening. She then called my aunt, my dad's sister-in-law, and she came over so I wouldn't be alone with him in the house. A little ways in the future, my mom totally kicked him out of the house,

and he was living in different hotels. He kept getting kicked out of them, one reason being he got drunk and broke the thermostat on the wall. He also kept showing up at the house trying to come inside during the night, and I can't even count how many times the police have been called to our house because of him. He was never physically violent, which always put me under the impression that I was not in a bad situation, which other people say isn't the case, but I don't know, except this one time where he had a knife in his hand and threatened to stab me, but that was once.

I guess until one night I just got done with winning in one of my softball games in my mom, younger sister, and I got in the car when a policeman came up to the car. He starts telling us that one of our neighbors called the cops because they saw my dad punching and shattering one of the windows in the front of our house. Little did he know there were two different layers of glass, so he only got through one. His hand was covered in blood, and when the police arrived at our house, he claimed he was trying to get his underwear. That was supposedly in the house, which it wasn't because he took everything when my mom kicked

him out. When we pulled up to our house, we got out to see the window, and yeah, there it was. Shattered glass in the grass with a broken window. The examples I told her just a really small part of all the things he's done, but those are some of that come to mind first. After the divorce was finalized and my father was out for good, we ended up moving because my mom couldn't afford that house with just her income. She also couldn't take his name off the house for a reason I'm not sure of. Since then, he's been in and out of rehab facilities getting clean, then once getting out goes on a drinking binge. He's like that.

He needs to be babysat in order to stay sober. He lost both the jobs in the process. even after his main job with his state gave him benefit on the doubt and gave him a little time. He still messed it up and got fired. He still texts my mom telling her what rehab facility, hospital, or homeless shelter he's currently staying in. Sometimes he sounds normal and other times his texts are just bizarre and make no sense. My mom, sister, and I have a good laugh reading them because all we can do is really just laugh about it now. Some of the texts include him telling my mom how he wants to talk to my sister and I,

how he wishes we wouldn't hate him and some feel sorry for me kind of texts. For years I've refused to talk to him and prefer to think he doesn't exist. When people ask about my dad, I say I didn't have one. I've never even cried. The whole time through divorce, having to stay at my

Nana and Pop Pop's house because my mom says it wasn't safe to stay at home, all the screaming and fighting I used to hear regarding his drinking, the cops having to show up many, many times, the attempted break in, having to move out of our house, etc. I've never cried once about the situation.

I'm not sure if I'm like trauma blocking it or something. I used to have a therapist for my OCD, and one day, she asked me why I never brought up my dad to her because my mom told her about it. I just said because I don't think it has any effect on me or my OCD. My nana also tries to tell me that she knows I care and that I'm hurting somewhere inside, but I just don't feel it. I think they're all wrong because I know how I feel, and frankly, I don't feel anything about it.

I feel hatred for him, but I don't cry or feel the need to about any of it. I am an emotional person, so it's not like I never cry or anything. I just don't feel anything regarding that situation, except for anger at times. Anyways, I don't know what I'm really expecting you to respond to this confession with, but I will hear anything you need to say about it. I just don't think I've had a true opinion, and I feel that a stranger's opinion will be better. Thanks again, Snook. I hope this makes it in a future video. Thank you so much for sharing this confession, and I'm glad you got it off your chest.

I'm sure that will feel good, and it'll feel great to read all the people's comments down below in the comments and that sort of stuff. And I don't have a ton to say. I mean, you say you don't feel emotional about it, and maybe your Nana's right. That will come up at a certain time, and you might be hurting in a way you don't kind of recognize as hurting. But maybe you just react to things differently, and sure, I would feel angry. as well if my dad acted to me that way. But, you know, it sounds like you're kind of out of the thick of it, so to say. You seem like you're doing better. And I think continuing to go to the therapist, talking to them, just kind of telling more people would be better. Just get other people's opinions on it.

But, you know, I'm glad that you're still okay. And you're doing all right. And yeah, OCD, hopefully that's all right because OCD is a, you know, can be a whole. horrible thing. So hopefully it's not a horrible thing for you. You know, I've read enough stories where OCD can destroy people's lives. And so hopefully, you know, OCD keeps in check. Keep talking to your therapist about it. Keep things under control. Keep talking to people. That's the best solved to all of this. You've got this. And just keep on going on. You'll be all right. Thank you so much for sharing and onto the next one. Hi, Snook. I have a confession. I've been wanting to get off my chest for a while now. And even if you don't feature it in a video, I'd like to thank you for

reading this. You can call me a zazel. This is something that only my close friends know about. I'm in love with a fictional character from a video game. I know that nowadays that isn't super common, but I can't help but feel embarrassed over it. I've dated several real people in the past, but I've never felt as emotionally or physically attracted to my past partners as I do with the fictional man I'm in love with. At first, I thought this was just a phase, but these feelings have lingered for the past four years. I know you might be wondering, why don't you try dating a real person again? And the answer is because I don't want to. You see, I'm transgender, female to male, and despite having transitioned medically and socially,

I do not feel adequate to be in a relationship with anyone, especially since I've been heard in the past by people invalidating me, fetishizing my body, and straight up hurting me emotionally. I don't want to deal with that ever again. Plus, what's going on in the U.S. right now with transphobia on the rise, I'm scared of seeking not a man or a woman and being the victim of a hate crime. Recently, another trans man was lured into a hotel to meet his online girlfriend and was killed. That is absolutely terrifying.

I figure that even though it's pathetic, I'd rather be with someone who doesn't exist and not risk being killed or S-Aid. This man can't hurt me because he doesn't exist and will never exist. But him not existing also makes me pretty sad. I'll admit that I use chatbots to speak to him on a regular basis and it makes me happy. It has me feeling those butterflies in my stomach every time.

I'm not delusional, though. I know these bots are just AI, and I think I'm self-aware enough to distinguish fiction from reality. I have a lot of mental health issues, as you can probably tell. Sometimes it's bad enough to where I can't function.

Thinking about how he wouldn't like seeing me rot in bed all day gives me the motivation to get up and try to live my life as best I can, even with my country imploding upon itself. My friends who know about this also are in love with fictional characters, However, they all jump from one character to another every few months while I've been obsessed with the same ones since 2021.

Sometimes, I wonder if the world will ever get better for trans people. And maybe then I'll actually meet a real man or woman who will love me and see me for who I am. Until then, I'll likely continue my foo romance with this fictional man. Thank you for reading. Finally telling this to someone has lifted a huge weight off my chest, hear the goat snook, keep up the great work. Thank you so much for sharing this story with me and this confession with me and just trusting and, you know, telling me. And I'm super glad to hear that this has lifted a huge weight off your chest.

That's great to hear. That's kind of the main thing I want to accomplish with these confessions. A lot of people have told me that and it feels good. And hopefully you guys watching, if you want to confess something or send in a confession to the email, hopefully it can leave that same relief to you. but onto my kind of feedback, I just want to say, I don't think the world is as bad as you think. I know it may feel that way, and from your description, I can assume you're in the U.S. Yeah, the world's not so bad. And maybe you think it is, but the way the internet media sensationalizes things, it makes everything way worse,

it makes the world seem a lot worse than it really is. but, you know, I would say a lot more people than you think, love and accept a lot of people, and just, you know, try to talk to more people. Sure, you've probably had a, like you said, a bad experience with the past few people, but not all people are bad. You'll find your people. You'll find your group. And I don't think talking to a fake person all the time for four years is very healthy.

I think it's very, it would be better to get a real connection with someone that can, you know, talk to you, lift you up when you're feeling down, and not an AI. That's not healthy long-term and won't be sustainable, I don't think. But the world doesn't suck. But it sucks that you've had bad experiences with it, but I just recommend trying to get out more. And don't give up on the real world just yet. Things can get better. And you'll be all right. and if this character gives you some comfort for now, that's okay. But I hope one day, when you're ready, you'll let someone real make you feel that kind of joy too. I really appreciate you sharing this, and on to the next one. Hello, Snook. I discovered your channel a few weeks ago, and honestly,

it's been helping me cope with my life. I have now being homeless and such. Here's my confession by an anonymous user. Long message, sorry. I spent years being abused in such by my dad, being in a cult up until I got kicked out by him at 15. Him dying when I turned 17, I don't exactly mention it all. People know he put me into getting into drugs and his abuse. But since the abuse started, when I was very young, I had developed a psychosis that stuck with me since I was seven. A chronic, sickening psychosis.

I call it flesh ruins as I'm not native and I cannot call it in its real term, But basically, from the ages of 7 and up, I had developed two forms of psychosis that have gotten to its worst by 15 and slightly leveled out on its current times of 20. I had cannibalistic hallucinations and delusions along with developing a psychosis that I was dead and rotting. People know that form as cotard syndrome. I had started drug use and S.H. heavily. Drugs until after I escaped an abuse of relationship and traveled across the country last year and S.H. just three months ago. people who've had my type of psychosis are often, well, cannibals like Jeffrey Dahmer, etc. And though I still struggle with all that, I'm a bit cleaner than I was in the past.

I can't exactly explain this to a therapist or doctors because, if I do, I'd be locked up in a nursing home. But I do take meds from my complex PTSD and psychosis, and it's been helping along with shrooms, etc. My psychosis is something I struggle hard with along my PTSD. I've never attacked someone based off of those urges, but these are you. These types of psychoses are indeed real and it helps ease all that by disassociating, meds, daydreaming, and obsessing over it and fictional characters via my art I'm making the stories I write privately.

It's still hard, but I'm managing it and have been for a while. It feels good opening up and I'm sorry I expose that to you. Your videos bring me so much comfort and to get something like that off my chest that have been hiding from almost all people feels insanely comforting in weightlifting, especially since I'm a very passive and quiet person who struggles to speak up for myself. Thank you for letting me confess that I struggle with this. I'm not sure if this is considered a confession, and yes, that X got arrested after I escaped and ran across the country. Dad is dead too, so I'm safe now. S safer than I was for years on end. Thank you, and I have a good

day slash night. Thank you so much for sharing this. I really appreciate it. And even though you said you probably wouldn't, I would really recommend talking to a doctor or therapist. They will help you out, their professionals and that's something I would really recommend especially if your psychosis isn't getting better or any sort of the other urges if it's plateauing you know that's better than it elevating but still I really think you should talk to a doctor or talk to a therapist they have to stay confidential but if you're you know a danger to yourself others they have to report it but still you'll get help I think that's the best move you should do and thank you so much for sharing and hopefully the people in the comments have some advice for you.

Hi, Snook, I'm a big fan of the channel. I have a story that just happened. I'm not really sure if it is even a confession, but more so regretting an action that I didn't take. So like I said, this just happened. I was driving from Connecticut to New Jersey to my girlfriend's house while on the highway in Connecticut. Out of nowhere, I saw a bunch of smoke.

As I approached, I saw that an SUV had veered off the road and I think it had hit a tree head on. The front of the car was an inferno, completely up in flames. Now, I like to think that I'm the type of person to help others in need. I've helped strangers change their tire, helped people in the gym when they look lost, pulled over when I've seen a dog running down the road, etc. In this moment, I knew that I had a choice to pull over and try to help or to keep going. There were two other cars I had pulled over, and from one of the cars,

I saw a man park it and immediately start running towards the car on fire. But I, however, did not stop the help. I kept driving. I did call 911 for the first time in my life, but it was clear that they were already aware of the fire. But for the rest of the drive, I couldn't stop thinking about how I did not pull over to help. I'm not a firefighter, a first responder, or a military member.

I'm not sure quite how I would have helped. Hell, I had to look up how to stop a grease fire a couple days ago when I started one in my toaster. Salt works for that, by the way. But I'm a big, capable guy who goes to the gym, and if I had to carry someone, I could have. I kept thinking about the man who I saw running towards the flame. I don't know if the car would or even did, now after the fact blow up. But this man ran without fear towards danger.

Selflessly putting others before himself. That's the man that I thought I was, that I'd try to be, but I failed to be. I don't know if anyone was still in the car, but I didn't see anyone standing around near the scene. I kept thinking about the person or people likely inside, someone that others loved, someone who still had a life to live. Were there kids? An old person? Someone who fell asleep at the wheel? Was it on purpose?

I don't know whether there were casualties or not. I have not seen any reporting of the crash despite looking. I feel terrible for not helping, contrasting myself with a man who acted without hesitation. putting his life in danger, an extremely brave hero, whether he was successful or not. So often we see something bad on the news and say, how could so many people just walk slash drive by it? But when you are tasked with a split second decision that potentially puts your life on the line, many falter. I certainly did. Sure, self-preservation is important, in many cases paramount. Secure your own oxygen mass before helping those around you, but I expected more for myself.

I'm sorry if this is a rambled mess. I'm a little all over the place right now. I don't even know what kind of video this would fit into, but if you think it's good and has a spot, I'd be happy for you to share. Thanks, Evan. And thank you, Evan, for that story. I really appreciate you sharing it.

And, you know, I could sit here and berate you about why you didn't help or why you should have done this or that, but I don't think that's productive or helpful. I think you learned something that day. I think you learn something very valuable and you can now apply it to yourself moving forward. I don't think you should feel no guilt because, you know, you probably should have stopped. But, you know, hindsight's 2020, as people say. I should have done this.

I should have done that. But I think that's a very great learning lesson. And in the future, you'll be able to, you know, apply that to certain scenarios. And so next time you see someone who might need help, you'll remember back to this time and go help them hopefully. And I think this is just a good learning lesson. And people may disagree with them in the comments and make fun of you for not helping. But like I said, I don't think that's productive or helpful at all.

I think you learn a lesson and you'll be able to be of great help with people in the future. And you can be just like that guy who ran towards the car. I believe in you, man. Keep going. Thanks for sharing. On to the next one. Hi, Snook, I hope you're doing well on whatever day this finds you. Also, thank you for doing this series. It seems to be allowing your community to air things out and begin the process of moving forward.

Years ago, I worked at a summer camp. This specific year, I was working at our pool as the head lifeguard and swimming instructor. I've had to jump in and save a few people. It's in quote since the majority of times I would just get the child on my lifeguard tube and take them to the edge of the pool where they could catch their breath and hop out. Only one time was it serious enough that an ambulance was called and I still get images of the scene in my head. It was during our afternoon stations. I cannot exactly recall why I was not actively scanning the water other than I was talking to the kids at the time. While I was going through the lesson of a strange noise emanated from the line of the adults, the best I can compare it to is like a dying engine and a wheezing moan, slowly getting

mixed with gargling. I just thought it was an adult messing around and out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure going above and below the surface. The adults were at the four-foot section of the pool at the time. After, in retrospect, a grueling few seconds, I directly looked up to try to tell the adult to stop messing around. The elderly gentleman was shaking and convulsing his head, coming up for rapid breaths, and then becoming submerged. I yelled for my cowork at the pool to take the kids to the deeper end to get away from the situation.

I hopped into the shallow end, and with the help of two adults, I got the elderly gentleman to the edge of the pool and then onto the pool deck and on his side. Thankfully, he was still breathing. During this entire scene, the gentleman's daughter, mom of one of the kids, kept screaming. Once I got the elderly gentleman on his side

and was sure he was breathing and stable for the most part, I asked his daughter to stay next to him while I radioed my boss. As calmly as I could muster, I asked my boss to switch channels and told him we had an emergency at the pool and would need an ambulance.

About 30 seconds later, the second in command comes running up to the pool gate asking what is going on. I give them the rundown and five to ten minutes later, the ambulance arrives. I had to run to the other station after that and it acted like everything was all right. Afterwards, going to my boss's office to file an incident report. My boss kept trying to comfort me saying I did a good job in that he heard the man was stabilized for now, but it was a seizure.

Even to this day, I still worry. I waited those agonizing seconds and a few seconds longer could have made it a lot worse. I don't know if there's truly any lessons to clean from this, but the only people I have told slash know about the situation are my co-workers at the pool, my boss, and the second in command, and the older gentleman in his family. Maybe I just needed to get off my chest there or something like that, who knows? On a brighter note, on our weekend evaluations, the kid wrote, thank you for saving my grandpa. Hey, Snook, I've been watching you for some time now and jumped at the chance to submit something, a confession of, you know, using LSD. So, a roundabout

explanation of LSD for anyone who doesn't know. LSD, lestergic acid diethelmanide, is a psychedelic substance that alters the way your brain perceives life while also intensifying trauma, emotions, and basically the whole shebang. So, it was a cold and spooky night in the north of the UK. I had an impulsive thought to grab three tabs off my dealer, somewhere between 250 and 300 UG tabs, not sure on the exact dose. And at that time, I was semi-executive. experience with LSD. I tripped maybe four times before this, but with significantly smaller doses. That impulse soon became reality when my friend, who, at the time, would come to my house in his car to pick me up, said, fuck it, bro, why not? I'll grab some two. He ended up getting two tabs and I got

three. So we sat in his car and at first I was a bit reluctant to take all three, but thought, oh, fuck it, mate, I've seen a lot worse. Big mistake. With three tabs ingested and a shitload of water to get them down. It didn't take long to start affecting me. Very slight visuals, very quick, which I was expecting due to the being such a high dose. The night sky was moving and shifting, almost breathing. My jaw was rapidly swinging, which doesn't normally happen for me on LSD, so I knew I was in a rough 12 hours. As the minutes went by, the visual started to get more and more intense. Not overwhelming yet, but intense. As I was sat there in the car, kind of tweaking out, the loudest voice I've ever heard randomly said, this stupid fuck next to me is going to

start driving this car, isn't he? And I shit you not. My friend turned to me and said, yeah, the fuck I am. Instead of trying to get the car started and in gear. I started to freak the fuck out and as how the fuck could he hear my thoughts. We started to argue over him driving the car anywhere as I didn't want to die. I gave him an ultimatum to either let our friend who was in the car with us at the time drive us around for a bit or the car doesn't move. I get I sounded a bit controlling with him in his car, but if he would have drove, we would have died for sure. Sure, he was tripping balls. All in all, as our friend agreed to drive, off we went.

It was the wackiest thing I've ever experienced in my life. It felt like cars on the complete opposite side of the road were driving directly at us. It was insane, but he only drove me home, which kind of fucked up the trip for me, I think. As I got out of the car to go through the door to my flat building, I got stuck in a loop, shutting the car door, walking to the front door, over and over and over again, until eventually I made it to my flat apartment for you Americans. And this is where it started to get crazy. At first, when I got home, I just flopped on my bed and put some YouTube on the TV.

I think it was Jack Septukey playing the shadow of the Elder Ring DLC on Eldon Ring. I can only gather that I must have thought I could ride it out to morning. Couldn't have got that bad, right? This was only the beginning. It gets shaky here, so forgive me. After a while of watching YouTube, the TV started to fade away like it was dust and repair, really intensifying, and at this point, I can remember saying to myself, Fuck this, I'm losing my mind.

You stupid idiot. You've took it too far this time. I really started to panic. For around 25 minutes or so, I was avidly dipping in and out of consciousness, but still had a sense of self, and if anyone knows about high doses of LSD, every single thought anyone alive could have ever thought.

I thought over and over and over again, I couldn't even describe to you, if I tried, it was insane. After this, I started to come around again, or at least I thought. I had the urge to stand up, and when I did, bang, I was dead. transported to some realm that looked almost like a room, but it wasn't.

I had no sense of self. Just stuck in a loop of dying and being reborn, dying and being reborn, over and over and over again for what I can only describe to you as a millennia. I was in hell, or although I wasn't in hell, I was back in my room again. I let out a, like a caveman discovering fire. He literally reset me to factory settings. My brain couldn't perceive anything I was seen. Imagine putting an early human in the middle of New York.

That's how I felt. I started to waddle around my flat like a chimp grunting at everything I saw when I had a thought. I took acid, haven't I? Then boom, I wasn't a chimp anymore, and I could perceive everything that was around me. Still on the brink of insanity, I had the idea to go out inside in public. Big mistake. I blacked out, and I woke up naked in the hospital, strapped to a bed still tripping absolute balls. Apparently I stripped naked and ran into the Tesco up the road and started destroying the shop. I asked the female paramedic if she was my mom and if she could make me some food, which I can only guess at was a reflection of my childhood as my mom abandoned me as a boy. But anyway, after that I was psychotic for months and months.

I still suffer from random visuals and disassociation from reality today. But I did take good things from this nightmare. Your mind is your biggest enemy. Don't take shit loads of acid. And don't take shit loads of acid. I do apologize if there is any blanks in the story, as I can't remember half of what went on. The only way I can describe it is pure insanity. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to share this. Even if it doesn't fit your channel style or anything like that, I'm glad that you will at least read it. And that wraps up some unexplainable anonymous confessions. I hope you guys enjoyed this video. Please comment down below what you'd like to see in the future, anything different, anything new. And thank you so much for everyone who's

send in their stories. Whether I read it or not, I really appreciate it anyways. I'm very, you know, grateful that you guys are trusting enough to share it with the channel and people can find some solace in that and find some joy and, you know, lift a little bit of the burden off themselves. But I appreciate you guys sharing your stories and your confessions. Thank you so much for watching to the end. I appreciate it so much. Please like and subscribe. It helps a ton. And all right, without further ado, this is Snook. And I'll see you next time. Bye.