I once helped out my a female friend’s family by taking care of their cat for a week. Every day for a week, I would go over there and snoop around their house. I found my friend’s diary, and proceeded to read the entire thing. I used this information to get her to like me, and she is currently my wife.
I don’t want to be with my girlfriend anymore, but she might have cancer and I feel like I need to stay in the relationship.
I faked the last two years of college education. My parents put so much pressure on me I couldn’t handle it (I was suffering from severe depression and anxiety) so I faked it all. Lied to everyone. Made up fake transcripts. I just got my foot in the door in my desired field thanks to a friend as they hired me as a subordinate. This place only hires college grads but no one double checked my credentials since I was recommended. My hopes is that if I need to find another job I’ll have been at this place long enough to get it by experience alone (I work for a very prestigious company). I’m not bad at my job. I’m actually quite good. But my fear is eventually I’ll hit a wall and the lie will come to light. No one has known this for the better part of a decade.
It’s a relief to finally say it “out loud.” I can’t even tell those I love. My silence is my prison.
When I was 17 I had a argument with my father and told him to fuck off, later that evening he hung himself. Our argument was the last time he spoke to anyone in our family and for that I feel a terrible amount of guilt for. Instead of him saying good bye and I love you to my mom and brothers he got told to fuck off before he went and killed himself. My punishment is to live the rest of my days in shame and guilt. He never left a note either.
I used to be a Police/Fire/911 Dispatcher, but had to quit because it nearly made me suicidal. I actually had thoughts, but had to drive 40 miles to go to a center/hospital where no one knew me for help. I have nightmares about a few calls I took where the caller killed themselves, shot someone else, or passed away on the phone with me. To this day, a few years after resigning, I still can’t listen to a phone ring, or sirens go off without having a mild panic attack. I am fairly sure it’s a form of PTSD, with flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, and an inability to function sometimes, but I’m embarrassed and scared to tell my fiance, or go to a doctor for it. I know there are soldiers out there with real PTSD that deserve help far more than me… I am very good at hiding it though. I also sometimes wait until my fiance goes to sleep, and I will then go sit and pretty much cry for several hours. It’s hell.