Breaking Free from the Vault of Secrecy: Anonymous Confessions

The Secret Score

I had a sweet, wonderful student who had been in foster care but his mom worked her a** off to get him back and she did. He had to take a very important exam and she called me and asked if he passed it. I looked at the grades and saw he did and said so. She burst into tears of joy and that is when I saw I had read the wrong score.

He had failed.

So I changed his grade to passing. No one knew. That was the only time I ever did that.

That could have cost me my license.

The weird thing is, when my awful corrupt principal pressured me to change other students’ scores so we could raise our pass rate, I refused.

I never told anyone what I did for my student.

He went into the military, was extremely successful there, and has a great wife and kids, so I think I did the right thing.

A Father’s Love

A friend of mine got a girl pregnant and he was really excited about being a dad and wanted to raise the child. She decided to get an abortion. He was absolutely brokenhearted, but he really looked forward to meeting his daughter/son in heaven. Except I know (because of the clinic she went to for the pregnancy test) that the girl was lying and was never pregnant, to begin with. She told him she was pregnant and told him she had an abortion simply to hurt him. I can never tell him because it would be breaking medical privacy. And I don’t think I could if I were legally allowed to, because he has so much love for this child that never even existed.

Faking It For Fashion

When I was like… 10 or 11, a lot of my classmates got glasses. I thought they were pretty cool, so I faked having myopia in order to get glasses as well. I wasn’t too dumb tho, I pretended that I could see better with lenses that had a small diopter so they didn’t actually damage my eyesight. The downside was that my parents thought using the computer had something to do with it, so they didn’t allow me to use it anymore. Also, I got bored of the glasses quickly, so there’s that. I don’t really wear them anymore, but I’m ashamed to tell my folks that I faked having bad eyesight because they were really upset at the time.

Chuuucky24

Smells Like Heaven

I LOVE strong smells. Not strong as in bad, like I wouldn’t enjoy being in a sewer, I mean smells that are so strong it burns your nostrils. Spicey stuff is a good example. I like to open jars of peppers and just inhale and feel them burn.

The bad thing about this though is I can’t get enough of smells like alcohol, gasoline and lighter fluid, so I have to fight with every fiber of my being not to kill my brain cells by just huffing that stuff down. This wouldn’t be a secret because I’m not afraid of it if it weren’t for the fact that people would think I like these smells to get high. I don’t, I just honestly love the way they smell.

A Love-Hate Relationship

My long-term partner thinks he is the champion of making coffee. Absolutely, the best, his coffee delivers a nirvana experience every morning. He’s a coffee artist. When we started dating almost 10 years ago, he wooed me with his amazing coffee, freshly made each morning. With cinnamon sprinkles on top.

His coffee suuuuucks. It’s bad. So bad, I sip on it for a few minutes, let it get cold, and dump it down the sink. My partner used to smoke a lot (about 3 years free of it now) and he’s always had a massive sweet tooth. He puts so much sugar in the coffee that the bottom of it is a clear, melted, grainy crust. He adds so many spices on top that it literally feels like drinking sand. Sometimes the layer of spice is so thick, you can barely see the liquid surface underneath it. And it’s so overwhelmingly sweet, you can’t taste the coffee at all.

But it’s so heartwarming when he delivers it to my desk, specially made just for me.

This is the first time I’ve admitted this to anyone. I hate his coffee. I will take this secret to my grave.

reddituser

Robin Hood in Training

When I was going to school we were really poor. My mom would regularly be in tears about bills. I used to sneak my lunch money back into their possession by hiding it in laundry, jackets, cars, or her purse. They were always so happy and relieved to find extra cash they had forgotten about.

The Weight of a Secret

There’s part of me that’s always felt so guilty about this, but the other part of me thinks that I did the right thing. When my mother-in-law was in hospice and dying, we had gotten the call that her last rights were being read to her and we should come because it was very close. The family gathered in her room, my father-in-law (her husband of 42 years) had been by her side and hadn’t left for days. We were there for hours, my sister in laws had to take their kids home at some point, so they had left and it was just my husband, me, and my FIL left. The nurses were saying that they might have spoken too soon because she was still hanging on, it was awful to watch. My FIL looked ragged and tired and he said he was just going to go to the other floor for a cup of coffee, my husband went with him. I said I would call if something changed but he was only going to be gone for 15 minutes maybe. About 5 minutes after they left my MIL really started to have very labored breathing, I called the nurse to see what was happening and by the time she came to the room (maybe 2 minutes), she had passed. I asked the nurse to wait for me to get my FIL and husband back to the room to pronounce her dead. They rushed back and my FIL held her and after a minute the nurse and doctor pronounced. My FIL believes he made it back to the room and was holding her while she left this life, I have never told him or my husband. Only me and that sweet nurse know she was already gone. I have debated telling my husband this but he’s always said he was comforted by watching his dad hold his mom when she died. I know I will never tell my FIL this, when he talks about her he always mentions how he was there for that moment and I don’t want to take that away from him. It would crush him. Part of me thinks she waited for everyone to leave the room so they didn’t have to actually see her go, she was always worried about everybody else. I’ve never told anyone.

The Sticky Situation

I was the kid who accidentally spits gum into my friend’s hair while running track. The gum just flew straight into her hair. I didn’t really think much of it. But then I found her crying with a big bald spot on the back of her head, cause the teacher had to cut the gum out. And man, did it look bad… Because of the very unfortunate placement, even a ponytail couldn’t cover it. It was just very out in the open. I was comforting her when the teacher spoke to the class asking them to confess who did it. I’m sorry, but who would at that moment? And now a few years later, it’s too late. And when the story comes up, she’s still very pissed. Should I have confessed at that very moment in the first place?

myplantsRdead_

Forbidden Feelings

I’m happily married, but I also have very deep feelings for a close friend. I know that my wife deserves every bit of my mind and heart, and if I don’t give it to her, it’s not fair to her. So I do my best to put it out of my mind and give my wife all my attention, but it comes back from time to time and it’s hard for me to keep it in. But I will never tell anyone because a) I genuinely love my wife and would never end our relationship for anyone, and b) her (the close friend’s) friendship as only that means more to me than risking all of it by telling her there are any feelings beyond that.

Snooze You Lose

I have some kind of sleeping disorder, where I’m constantly falling asleep, but only for a few seconds, and then I jerk awake. So far it mostly happens while watching TV or sitting here at the computer. It’s happened a few times while driving, which is something that scares me, since I live in a very rural area with no public transportation and if I tell my doctor about it I’ll probably have my driver’s license taken away and I can’t have that. Someone’s going to find out cause I just got the notice for Jury Duty and I don’t think they’ll appreciate someone who keeps falling asleep during the trial??? This happens when I’m not sleepy, like sometimes in the mornings after I’ve first gotten awake and drank coffee.

The Ageless Wonder

I’m over 20 years old, and I haven’t hit puberty yet. I know it’s an issue with my pituitary gland and hormones from tests I had a few years back. I couldn’t get myself “fixed” back then because I couldn’t afford it. Now with each passing year, I’m just more embarrassed about it and can’t bring myself to admit it to anyone, not even a new doctor (the one I went to previously I can’t get in contact with anymore) until I saw this thread and decided to post on a throwaway account.

My friends and family just think I look really young for my age, and we all have nice jokes and a good laugh over it whenever it comes up. I secretly cry inside every d*mn time. My height is unaffected, and I’m decently tall (6 ft), smart, and well-spoken, so I have no problem convincing people that I’m actually my real age after a few minutes of conversation.

I know I should get it taken care of. Every time I tell myself I’m going to do it that day I find some reason not to (mostly my own cowardice). Writing this anonymously has helped a bit.

The Ultimate Husband Hack

My wife has a ceramic mug that she uses all day every day to drink water. As long as I’ve known her she’s used the same mug. 5 years ago shortly after we moved in together, I found the same mug on eBay. That replacement mug sits in a box at my office, just in case the day comes when I accidentally break the original.

FinishFine69

Pluck This Way

I have a minor form of trichotillomania. I used to pull the hairs out of my arms and my knuckles while bored in class. I also pluck the hairs out of my eyebrows, and I used to do it to my eyelashes but stopped once I realized I was doing cosmetic damage. I get immense satisfaction from finding that one hair that’s just a little darker than the others or just a little longer, and pulling it out.

I’ve been able to direct this energy to be a little more productive. I like to do my own Brazilian waxes, so sometimes I spend a half-hour every day tweezing those random hairs that either I missed or have started growing faster than the others.

And there’s nothing more satisfying than breaking the skin above an ingrown hair and pulling that out.

pluckylittlepluck

Ouija Board To The Rescue

After my grandfather died (my mom’s last remaining relative other than myself and my sister), she was feeling very lonely and began worrying about her own mortality more than usual. To try and cheer her up, I took her to this dorky “psychic” fair that comes through my city once a year, since the supernatural is of great interest to her. At the fair, there was an Ouija board set up, and I invited her to use it with me to see what would happen. None of this was planned, but I had the idea on the spot of “channeling” a dead relative of hers. We ask if anyone is there, and I move the planchette to yes. My mother asks who it is, I spell out Anna (her mother who has been deceased for 30 years). She begins to cry. She asks how her dad is doing, and I spell out the word fut (context: she’s Hungarian, that word means “to run”. My grandfather was a very athletic man up until he died, practicing yoga and running and cycling into his late 80s.) A big smile appears on her face, tears streaming at this point, and you can just tell she feels a lot of relief. She really does believe in a lot of nonsensical and conflicting things which we once used to debate on, so she ate it up and believed this was true with her whole heart. She tells her mother she loves her, and to pass the message on to her dead brothers and to her dad, and I tell her we should close the board out before bad spirits start to show up (couldn’t think of anything else to add to the spirited dialogue as I had become emotional from her outpouring). Afterwards, she seemed like she got the closure she hadn’t when he passed away (she hadn’t seen him in years before he died as he still lived in Hungary and we live in North America), and handled her grieving better afterwards. I will never admit to her it was me.

Keeping A Deadly Secret

Me and a really close friend of mine were involved in someone’s death (I don’t know if it was our fault or if it’s just natural that it happened). Let’s say my friend’s name is Lary. Me and Lary were at his house chilling, an electrician was also there fixing a broken AC in the house. The electrician was on the roof and asked us to turn off and cut off all electricity in the house since he’ll be cutting and connecting wires so he can avoid being electrocuted. Dumb Lary didn’t turn off all house electricity and power was still running to the AC. The electrician got shocked but didn’t cause him much hurt and damage then, weeks later we found out that the guy started having “heart conditions” which lead to a sudden heart attack and death. I don’t know if that shock and electrocution is the reason that gave him his “heart condition” or if it’s natural that heart attacks happen naturally. Anyways, me and “Lary” hold that secret with our souls, since the electrician’s family are close to ours.

The Calendar Chronicles

During my sister’s first marriage, I knew that she and her husband at the time were having problems because when I was at their home I saw that my sister was “keeping score” on the wall calendar: of events, he’d missed or times he’d been late. She’d write a snarky comment on the date. I said nothing because she wasn’t talking to me about it but they eventually divorced.

Her second marriage is to a wonderful man, an architect. In their second year of marriage, he took on a client that had him working long irregular hours and my sister was frustrated because he was never home and was missing family activities. I was over there for dinner one night and her husband was late again. My sister scrawled “late for dinner AGAIN!” on the calendar date and marched upstairs. I felt she was being irrational because her new husband was a great guy so I interfered for the first and only time ever in her adult life: I added “littlefoot352 was” in front of the “late for dinner AGAIN!” on the calendar.

When her husband came home I was sitting in the dining room by myself. I saw him look at the calendar, look at me, sigh and then take the pen and scribble it out completely and quickly. Then after saying hello he called my sister downstairs and presented her with the plans he’d drawn up for her dream kitchen. The project he’d been killing himself was so that he could afford the remodel…for her.

My sister later told me how overwhelmed she was that he forgave her for writing that comment in a fit of anger. She’ll never do it again.

littlefoot352

The Paternity Puzzle

When I was in my late teens, I met an older woman online.

We had a lot of fun one summer and when I went back to university she would drive a few hours just to see me and have some more fun.

After about half a year of this, she told me she was pregnant. It wasn’t a lie, because we kept hanging out and she started getting a big belly.

I didn’t know how to handle this but I basically accepted responsibility and even went as far as telling my family about it. They were not happy but they accepted it.

The woman in question started getting very defensive at this point…it’s almost as though she was jealous and afraid that if I had too much support I’d take the baby away from her. She even communicated some of this sentiment with me.

So what does she do? She lawyers up. She hired an attorney and basically stopped all communication with me at this point. After a while, I started asking for us to get a paternity test to prove it was mine but she and her attorney ignored me.

All I have is a photo of the baby in her stomach, and the name that she wanted to give the baby.

She just completely dropped off the face of the earth. This was about 5 years ago and I have no clue where she is; her and her attorney stopped responding to my contacts after a while. I might have a little kid out there somewhere and I’ll never know.

This was an extremely stressful time in my life. I even failed university as a result of the stress it caused me. I had some severe panic attacks and was diagnosed with panic disorder as a result of this. I’ve since learned to tone down my mind and no longer have panic disorder.

The only silver lining in this is that it became a catalyst for my success. At the time, I had a choice to make: become a statistic, or use the experience as motivation to better myself.

Now almost 5 years later I’m doing extremely well in life. I built a career making upwards of 6 figures a year and I don’t even have a college degree.

I still don’t know where they are. I haven’t yet found the courage to start looking for them. I am fearful of being misjudged because of what happened and how long it took me to act, but I had no choice because I was a teenager that failed out of university with no money and no options. The only thing I could do was work on improving myself and learning from that mistake…and I did just that.

Behind Closed Doors

Both my parents worked full-time when I was born, because having a second kid after one with special needs is expensive, so they hired a woman in her mid-20s to be a sort of nanny to me and me alone. Basically, she would wake me up, feed me breakfast, bring me to school, pick me up, watch me when I played, put me to bed, etc.

She was my nanny until around I was 5, so I don’t remember much except a few scenes: her shaking me violently by my shoulders when she was mad, slapping me, not feeding me more than a few biscuits for a meal, or threatening to tell my dad that I wasn’t behaving, saying that ‘he’d do worse’. I also have a memory of being yelled at by my parents for biting her, when I have no recollection of that (also, I was the one with a severe wound then).

According to my parents, it was only after she left that they learned about what she was doing to me after I would innocently remark things like “aren’t you going to hurt me?” after I broke something or whatever. It apparently took a while for me to not be afraid to come to them when I did something wrong (tho I still don’t sometimes).

I’m in my 20s now and aside from my parents, only two college friends know only because I was intoxicated. It isn’t something I think about a lot, but I’m wondering now if it has more far-reaching consequences than all of us realize.

From Victim To Victor

This was 7 years ago. There’s this one guy in my class that would always find a reason to mess with me. From calling me names, his attempts at publicly humiliating me in front of everyone and even kicking my a**. The dude had no reason to beef with me but made it his mission to make my life there a living h*ll. Stupid thing is, nobody would side with me when I stand my ground bcoz he’s one of the cool kids.

One night as I make my way back to my room, I found that my room was locked from the inside. Turns out he and 6 other popular boys were beating the sh*t out of my roommate. Seeing that it’s a whole a** event with at least a dozen other students watching the beat down, I decided to mind my own business and go to bed before I get my sh*t rocked.

The next morning, I found out that my roommate doesn’t plan on reporting the bullies to the school admins but because he went to the clinic to get treated, the doctor called the school to report the matter. You see, the 7 boys I mentioned were so popular that they managed to get the entire batch to agree on a fake story for their alibis on what happened that night. We even had a whole meeting to plan out our story.

Lucky for me, I saw this as an opportunity. I immediately report to the counselor on their fake alibis and told them on the entire story plot. So when the bullies were questioned by the disciplinary board, they got their entire sh*t busted right off the gate.

They had to move out of the school later that week and everyone was crying and sh*t coz some of the most popular kids in school had to move out. They even held a goodbye party for them. I pretended to be sad but man I have never felt that happy for someone else’s downfall before.

Last time I checked my bully was still struggling in a vocational college while I finished my study in ACCA with a scholarship.

The Liar’s Dilemma

I pathologically lie, and I can’t stop. As a kid, I learned this bad habit from my mother, and I now have to learn how to break it. I want help for it because I hate that I do this, but I’m terrified to tell anyone because then they are less likely to believe anything I say after that. (Understandably so.)

The majority of the time, the lie comes out of my mouth for no reason, it wasn’t even planned, I didn’t sit there meditating on the lie, my mouth just blurts it out. Internally I’m cringing and keep repeating to myself, “stop, why did you say that? No! That was pointless! No, stop, don’t do that.”

sidenote although this is a learned behavior as a result of a disorder that I have, it was also reinforced by my mother teaching me to always lie to my father and always go along with any lie that she tells.

Sacrifice and Silence

When I was in 8th grade there was an art contest that all the schools in the area were participating. The top 10 students who won got a trip to Paris. You only had to pay 200 up front for food/spending money, but other than that it was all paid. So I enter thinking I won’t actually win because I never won anything like that before, and I actually got 7th place! (Even if it was low I was super excited). The only problem was I was extremely poor growing up and we at the time were living on almost nothing, so I figured 200 was out of the question, I knew if I told my mom she would bend over backwards for me to be able to go, but even if my mom had to tell me no I didn’t want her to think it was all her fault. I told my teacher I wasn’t allowed to go and I never even asked my mom. I still haven’t told my mom about it and I’m not sure I ever will. I don’t want her to think I’m upset about it.

Hansburglar

Fake It ’til You Break it?

I lead a large team that seems to respect me and look up to me to lead the company to success, but I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time.

I’m trying my best and put up a good facade but when I’m in the bathroom I silently scream and I want to punch myself.

The company is not doing too bad, but at night I toss and turn that it’s all going to come crumbling down and I would have wasted everyone’s time and I’ll be revealed for the fraud I am.

I then step out and put up a smile and make a joke and people buy it and congratulate me for my positivity. Inside I hate myself.

Lilly’s Love Triangle

A year ago, my fiance and I adopted a 4-year-old dachshund girl. She came from a family where she wasn’t treated very well. She was especially afraid of men. She would shake, hide and pee herself when any men would come close to her or move too fast.

Lilly and I were bonding pretty fast, but it took ages until my fiance was allowed to touch her. Whenever we came home together, she would run straight to me and ignore him. He is the nicest person in the world and I know that this situation really hurt him.

So every time when I would hear his car in the driveway, I made a big show of dancing, wiggling my butt and running to the door and back like an idiot. Lilly would get just as excited as me. She would run to him, happy and excited. It took only a few more weeks until she bonded with him. Right now she is sitting on his lap and getting belly rubs. Lilly is a good girl.

Between Passion and Reality

I’m an elementary teacher – I love my kids. Most of them are fantastic, I enjoy every minute with them and it really is my happy place just hanging out with them.

Unfortunately, I’m also really tired of dealing with the kids who need so much extra. I understand that they have a lot of trauma and need a lot of love and boundaries and patience and everything else. I used to love working with those kids and I got really good at it. Good enough that I have a reputation as a teacher that can help all those kids.

But I’m losing my love for teaching because of them. It was different when it was just 1 or 2 kids a year. Now it’s 10 or 15 kids with severe challenges. I know how to help them, but I just don’t have the energy to anymore. I can’t fix all of them and it’s overwhelming.

I’m thinking of leaving the profession. But I just started a program to get a 2nd degree to further my career. I would feel like such a failure if I left now.

I’m just tired of spending 90% of my energy on 10% of my kids and making such little progress. If I spent that 90% of my energy on the kids I wanted to, we could accomplish awesome things.

A Confession Of A Hug-hater

I hate human touch. I’d rather be covered in roaches than have my arm held by my mother. Everything inside me makes me want to punch whoever is touching me or push them down to the floor. Why?! Why does it happen? I want to show affection to my family but I can’t just let them touch me. It’s not too bad if I know it’s coming, but when I receive a surprise hug or a tap in the shoulder, I start screaming so they will back off.

I am perfectly fine with my dog, though. I hug her regularly and pretend like I’m crying (cause she will let me hug her longer if she feels that I’m sad). I love interacting with her, but not with people. What is wrong with me?

At Peace With Letting Go

When I was younger I lived with my grandmother. Not long after I turned 18 her health started to decline, that sort of decline that you know means she won’t be around for much longer. Over the months I did my best to take care of her. Getting her to the hospital when she needed it, and other things. We had someone coming every day to help her with things I couldn’t.

Well, what my family doesn’t know is that the night she passed, I was in the living room watching TV. My dog was in bed with my grandma, and I started to hear him whimper, and bark. I knew what was happening, I knew that if I acted I could potentially save her. I didn’t want to watch her suffer anymore though, to watch her live with so much pain, and be unable to do anything for herself any more. So I made the choice to let her pass before making any calls.

She lived 92 years, and the only regret I have is that she passed a month after I would have graduated if I hadn’t been kicked out of school. She had been in good enough health at the time to go to my graduation. I still kick myself for how stupid I was back then.

A Heartbreaking Story

A friend in high school had a baby that her family decided to raise and take custody of, but the way I found out is something I’ll never forget.

It was impressive how under wraps the whole thing was, and it seemed believable that her parents would’ve had another baby (she got pregnant at 13). I dropped by one weekend to drop off an item my friend loaned me for prom and saw that a birthday family was going on for the toddler.

Her face was a mixture of emotions. I didn’t know if she was in pain, upset, or angry… it seemed like everything was running through her at the same time. When I asked if she was alright, she just broke down and started crying. She cried about how hard it was waking up and calling her son “little brother”, and how hard it was to know she was so unfit to be a mom, that her parents wouldn’t even acknowledge the fact that biologically, it was her kid. I just listened and let her cry.

We never spoke about it after that. I don’t think there was any need to. There’s no way I could understand what she was going through. But I will always be there for her if it comes up again in our lifetime.

reddituser

The Heartwarming Deception

My grandmother is blind but doesn’t like to accept help. Whenever I stop at the grocery store, I call her to ask if she needs anything. I buy whatever she needs but when she tries to pay me back I say “grandma you’re not going to believe this but they were having a deal where you get a free Greek yoghurt (the thing she asked me to pick up for her) when you buy a sugar-free Red Bull (the thing I went to the grocery store for in the first place) so you don’t actually owe me any money for the yoghurt!” She fell for it the first couple of times but became suspicious of my shenanigans after a few of these incredible deals and started to force money into my hand. She always put too much money in my hand like a $10 bill for a yoghurt so I insisted on giving her proper change. Because she is blind, I was able to give her more money than she gave me without her ever realizing it. She felt good because she had “paid me back” and I felt good because I did a small thing for the tiny blind woman who has done more for me than I could ever begin to repay. My sweet grandmother passed away in April and I’m sad I can’t walk into her front door saying “grandma you’re never going to believe the deal they had at the grocery store today!” but on the other hand I’m so happy she never found out about my other trick of giving her more money in “change” than she gave me.

National_Message_917

A Floral Lie

My stepdad died in January. June 23rd would have been their 20th wedding anniversary. She has been so down since his passing. Also knowing the things he did to “prep” before he became bedbound. (Taking her car and having it serviced and brand new tires, filling the cabinet with the hard-to-find sort of expensive dog treats, etc). I had a big BIG floral arrangement sent to her on their anniversary day. Signing the card “I’m always with you.” And threatened the floral shop with life and limb to NOT tell who came in and paid for it. She was so happy.. she thinks he thought of it but really it was me. I’ll never tell.

TeenieRee2032

The Dark Thoughts

I regret having a kid. My son is a really awesome kid, but I feel like a terrible mother. I have constant anxiety. I feel like I’m constantly angry. I’m constantly stressed. I feel like I have to be perfect for my son all of the time. I constantly feel guilty for everything. On top of that, I hate making dinner every night and trying to give my kid healthy variety. I’m lucky he isn’t a picky eater. I hate that I have to ask him a question 4 or 5 times before he will answer it (he is 2 almost 3). I miss my free time. I miss being able to go out and do things without having to pack a huge bag of crap to keep my kid entertained. In the past few months, I have started to think my kid would be better off without me. That I should pack a bag and disappear. At least then he wouldn’t grow up with a mother who is angry and yells all the time. But I won’t leave. I love my kid and I live for those moments when he is just so sweet or makes me laugh that I can’t imagine leaving him.

thrownawaynov2019

Alone and Unhappy

My happiness is entirely dependent on my social interactions. Whenever I’m alone I feel like the dumbest sh*t out there and can’t even go off my bed. I live in a dirty mess because I can’t even wash my room or even myself or my teeth. But when I’m around people I like, It all goes away, and on the opposite side. I’m overconfident and feel like I’m a hot, confident genius. I feel like I matter to them, and project friendship unto acquaintances. I’m really happy whenever I’m around those people, or around one of my three real friends. I may be too happy, I never did drugs but I think what I feel is that “rush” addicts talk about. As soon as they’re gone or do anything that breaks the illusion of being friends, I feel like crap once again.

Falling Out Of Love

That I don’t love my wife at all. I love her as the mother of my kids but I have grown so tired of her ignorance, anxieties, fears, and overall controlling nature, as well as general disregard for the fact that I too exist for more things than to provide for her the lifestyle she wants. But mostly because the one time in my life I asked her to step up and help, she told me she’d rather divorce me than do it.

So I fell out of love with her at that exact moment. It was over 3 years ago.

She doesn’t know that if I get this new job I’m working for, I will have the financial resources to end our marriage and we can both be happy because I’m so detached that she’s not happy either. We both deserve happiness, we just can’t give it to each other.

The Blessing Box Boomerang

Where I live, there is a place called the “Blessing Box“. It’s a cabinet where people can drop off canned and dry goods to help feed other families. My wife and I hit some hard times financially and had to rely on the Blessing Box to feed ourselves. Made a promise to myself that if I ever came into some extra cash, I would return the blessing.

Later on, I scored a well-paying temp job and was able to catch up on a lot of bills right before Thanksgiving. Remembering the promise I made, I used my next paycheck to fill the Blessing Box to the brim with a variety of canned goods. Everything a family would need for the holiday. A few days later, the Blessing Box was featured on the local news and how an unknown donor provided enough food to feed over a dozen low-income families for the holiday. My wife and I have never told a soul that it was us.

When You Just Know

I met this guy about 6 years ago through a friend. We all hung out twice a few months apart. After the second time, I drove the 4 hours back to my town and had lunch with a friend. Friend asked how my trip was and I told him about this guy and that I’m pretty sure I’m going to marry him. Not in a creepy stalker way like “I’m going to make this happen” but like in an “I don’t know why, I can just tell” way.

Two years later that guy and I moved to the same town (separately/coincidence – I moved and he moved a few months later). He’s now my fiancé and I still haven’t told him, or anyone else in the world, about that conversation I had at lunch 6 years ago.

Banking on Surprise

I have a secret bank account that my husband doesn’t know about and a small percentage of my paycheck goes into it every time I get paid. My husband stresses about debts and feels like we don’t do enough to save/pay off said debts. I hope I can keep it a secret for a few years so that on his birthday or for Christmas, I can just make the financial stuff he worries about disappear. Maybe by then, we’ll have it taken care of already, but we can have a nice vacation and get a head start on retirement funds instead. My husband grew up poor and has a lot of anxiety around money – it would be nice to be able to give him that “I’ve just won the lottery” feeling, even on a smaller scale.

From a Cage to a Home

I stole a black cat from one of the sh*thead neighbors in my old neighborhood. They had the momma cat get pregnant and then kept all the kittens outside in a cage. Now it gets really hot where I live, so having black fur and a small 4’x4′ enclosure with barely any water and dry ass food with bugs all over it isn’t gonna keep you alive. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to take the rest of the kittens since they had passed away. $2200 in vet bills later and now I have a very loving cat to keep me company.

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