NeoGAF Anonymous Confessions 2015 - Bare Your Burdens

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NotTheGuyYouKill said:
Someone took some GAFer's advice re: virginity, clearly.



Well, that's not the worst thing in the world! I'm glad your confidence is up and you're meeting girls outside of your hooker thing. It's not that sad, man.
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Haha @ the booty line. We should make that a required bit of info for all sex related confessions.
 
Is there a difference between eating booty and tossing a salad? And what is it called when you eat chicken nuggets with honey mustard off of a girl's booty? I need to know...for reasons.
 
Cheating dude, chemical castration is way WAY over the top. Don't do that! But you either stop fucking randos or stay single. Your gf doesn't deserve that.

Premature ejaculator guy, try fucking bananas. Just open them up a bit and train. It should help.

Virginity lost to a hooker, did you toss her salad? Or was it your's?
 
I haven't spoken to my mom in almost six years. Technically you can include my brothers and sisters as well but they're collateral damage as I found that any time I spoke to them I'd get a call from my mom asking me why X happened.

Anyway, what predicated this? When I called and told her my wife and I were going to have a kid she said, "Are you sure it's yours?" That was her first reaction. Ugh.

Previous to that there were things like when I was in high school and had issues with my sexuality and she kept making me go to counselors to talk the gay away. And then forcing me to admit I was gay in front of him, or just in general around the house if she was in a particularly bad mood. She was verbally abusive for most of my life. Like the time she called my mother-in-law to tell her about the porn and stuff she found in my room when I was 14 and how she still knew I was gay. I had been married for about 6 to 7 years at that point even.

The hardest part about not talking to anyone is that I remember the good times, when things were alright for everyone. I remember those and think, "Why am I being an ass about this?" And then I remember "are you sure it's yours" and it's like, Oh yeah.

My kid hasn't seen his grandmother since then. He only saw his grandfather when he visited roughly 7 years ago (he's since passed) because I got tired of going out there and getting shit on for not visiting more (you're an entire fucking country away, wtf? Hell, airplanes fly both directions so why haven't I seen you?)

Best thing if that I have so much less stress in my life now. I don't have to talk to my two stupid anti-vax sisters. I don't have to talk to my brothers, one of whom, while talking to me, said that he loved me and was glad I wasn't a big pussy like that Bob guy who moved to the west coast. (I'm Bob, I moved to the west coast. Thanks, bro.)

I started talking to one sister a few months ago. Turns out she really just wanted to talk to me because of my position at work and the information I could get for her. Haven't heard from her since she got said information, not even a "hey we're at this point in the claim process, just want to keep you updated." The one real good that came from those conversations was hearing that my mom was trying to raise my sisters kids the way she raised us and my sister shut her down.

People keep asking if I'm happy and I haven't really had an answer, but yeah, I'm thinking I'm happy. (just don't bag me, guys)
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Good for you! They sound like a pack of assholes. You're better off.
 
Retsudo said:
Cheating dude, chemical castration is way WAY over the top. Don't do that! But you either stop fucking randos or stay single. Your gf doesn't deserve that.

Premature ejaculator guy, try fucking bananas. Just open them up a bit and train. It should help.

Virginity lost to a hooker, did you toss her salad? Or was it your's?
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UcCxhHu.jpg
 
My mother's getting to that awkward point where she's worried about me being my own person but still scared to let go, so she swings from moments of nagging on me to do things and then nagging on me to be with the family more.

It's starting to get annoying but not so much that I mind saving money on rent and the like. Eventually I'll hit that point where I can just say I'm moving out though.
 
I made a confession last year, it didn't get much traction :P
I just wanted to say thanks to the gaf user who suggested I had intrusive thoughts. Having a name for them, and finding out they are not exclusive to me, was very comforting. They have actually (mostly?) gone away now, and I am on medication for anxiety.

I also started talking to a friend of mine a week ago about BDSM and his relationship. I shared him a cute manga called Mud on the topic (yes I know a cute BDSM thing sounds a bit oxymoron)
On rereading the comic I realised it featured a girl overcoming intrusive thoughts through becoming closer to other people. It was already one of my oneshots but this just gave it another layer of appreciation for me. Then it turns out my friend also suffered intrusive thoughts, but they've gone away as he's moved to a healthier space, life & relationship wise.

This confession isn't glamorous, but I just really wanted to say "thank you" :)
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I'm very glad you're doing better.
 
TRIGGER WARNING

I was debating on this. I've been debating for quite some time as this is hard to talk about. It's nawwed away at me for quite some time. I just want someone to talk too about it. *sigh* Here we go...

This takes some time to explain. I grew up in a stable home, a mom, a dad, and a sister. We were a typical middle class family and like a typical middle class family we had family issues. My earliest memory is of my mom and dad arguing about bills, about typical things. Typically when they fought my dad would storm out the house, and come back at a later time with presents as an apology. Kiss kiss make up that's my childhood, they'd fight and my dad would try to make things good again. I thought it was normal but, the signs of domestic abuse were already there.

I was 8 when the abuse started. We were waiting all night for my dad to get home to celeberate his new promotion. My dad worked at an office job as an architect from what I understand. He often brought his work home, or stayed late. it was a very stressful job for him but, that never excused what he did to us. It was about 8PM, we saw the lights through the window. I was shouting for joy that dad was home, my sister (she was a year older then me) had made a cake for him. She was so excited, and we all were. The door slams open, and my dad's tie is off, his shirt unbuttoned and he looks a mess. We run up to him, he slams the door shut looks down and looks down at us. He smells awfully weird, "Get the fuck off me. Go to your goddamned rooms and stay there" he says raising his voice. Mom rushes over and whispers for us to go to our rooms and lock the doors. Something serious has happened, the air has a toxic feeling about it. My sister rushes me to my room fully realizing what was going on. The fighting starts, but it soon turns into something scary. I hear a loud crash, and my mother screaming her head off. I can hear him hitting her, boop, boop, boop. I'm scared to death hiding under the covers. It's about 10PM, and my dad slams the door to his room shut. My sister and I we sneak out of our room. The dinning room is a mess, broken blades, all our hard work making his celebration dinner wasted. My mom is sitting on the ground sobbing, she's bleeding and a battered mess. She looks up and screams for us to get back in our rooms. The way she looked up at us, her sunken eyes; haunt me to this day.

Everything had changed. I was young but, even at that age I knew it had changed. The next morning, my father came into our room and explained what happened. he explains that "My actions were not myself. I was stressed from losing my promotion and angry and I suppose mommy and I became kids and fought. This didn't involve us, and I would never harm any of you", a complete and utter lie. Even at that age i knew he was being dishonest, I could see it in his face, his mannerisms there was nothing real about what he said, and i bought it hook, line and fucking sinker. My sister thank god was strong called him out "Why hurt her, dad?", and the fucker had nothing to say but, "I didn't mean too" and that was it. Mom even bought it and was happy with him again. I couldn't understand how she could just forgive the man who beat her. At the time I just assumed it was just a simple fight, i was young and couldn't fathom this. Dad took us to school and all was normal again. He picked us up and tookus out to eat at McDs as a way of getting us to shut up. Even my sister was cowed by his attitude change, and assumed it was just a one time mistake. The thing about domestic abuse is that it's never just a "one time' thing. Whats done is done, and this represented a new change in my father.

8/15/1987 a year after the abuse started, I consider this the worst day of my life. the day my grandfather passed away, and what little good in my dad died with him. Dad was close to his Dad, they spent a lot of time together specially after the death of his mom a few years earlier.I'd never seen my Dad cry but, he wept like a child at that funeral. It was eeriery hearing him weep like that but, it served as a precursor to what was to come. Before my father never touched us,we were his kids and untouchable. He tired to make efforts into being a good father for us to make up for what he did to mom. I look back and those were the good days. After his father died he became withdrawn, he became very different, a very scary person or maybe that was who he really was all along coming out.

He was watching TV and my sister and I started fighting. He gets up in a fit grabs us both and literally throws us in our rooms. he comes in and starts beating us both with a belt. Never said a word, never said anything he just looks down at us face twisted in rage gets his belt and starts beating us both. we're both crying and screaming and he just keeps on beating us, and then walks out and locks our room leaving us in there for the rest of the day and night. As he kept on drinking, the abuse got worse. My father drank to drown his sorrows, he drank because, he was a terrible person and justified it by drinking it. everytime he drank, he became different but, eventually that was the only person we remember. Whenever dad was home we hid. we did everything we could to not go home after school or hang out with friends but, mom was the true victim she took the hits so we didn't have too. She loved us like that. She was soo good to us, and it angers me what that bastard did to her. The abuse worsened after Dad lost his job. Before we treasured the few hours we had without him around but, after he lost his job he became monster. We thought he was bad before but, this was a whole new level of horror. School was our only escape from him and he took that from us. Before we would either take a ride from friends, or my mom but, now he would pick us up right as soon as school let out and not a minute late. If we were late we got beat for however many minutes we were late, if we cried we didn't get to eat. Money was tight he would say, and only some of us deserved to eat.

My mom was an emotional and physical wreck. My earliest memory of her was how beautiful she was, how happy she was and now she was rail thin and looked dead. Dad had taken everything from her and us. My sister was a strong girl fought him at every turn and she suffered the worst. Dad tormented her, he would lock her in the attic (our new punishment room) and let her stay there all weekend without food or water or until she begged for forgiveness. Me? he never did much to me. Maybe i was so pathetic he couldn't even bother. At school i was tormented by bullies, I was weak and perfect game for them. I would come home after getting beat up, and my dad would just laugh "Some man you are. You get your blood from your mother, a cowards blood!", hell he even encouraged them one time to beat me up. It saved him the effort of having to do it himself. To be frank we were all beatn down by this monster and there was no escape. I was 14 when my mom gave in and in a final act of defiance tried to kill herself. She tried to cut her wrists but, dad caught her and got to her to the er. when they questioned him on why she had bruises, his explanation was "She was very self abusive" and they fucking bought it. No questions asked, they bought it. I wasn't suprised, I had gone to teachers and adults before and tried to get help and they either ignored me or had my parents brought in and that made things worse for me and everyone else. In the end there was no escape from this monster.

Miracles do happen. My father coming home from work when he in a drunken stupor tripped over his feet and broke his pelvis. After ghe was discharged from the hospital he became bedridden at home. The abuse stopped and we were in control. Some life had been brought into mom again. When i say miracles happen, they do. Father was in his bed eatting when he started choking ack ack ack. I panicked as i had no idea what to do, i called my sister and mom over and was going to dial 911. Mom grabbed my hand and told me "no". My sister, my mom and i watched as Dad choked to death and just like that the man that had ruined our lives, that had tormented us for so long, that fucking monster was gone. Mom grabbed us and cried I should have been happy but, I wasn't, I didn't feel good. It felt too easy, I wanted him to face justice for what he did.

Life returned to normal after his death. we moved in with my aunt. My mom got a job working as a cashier at a store. life was hard, we struggled but, we were happy in the end. After my dad died my mom i saw her smile again for the first time in years. I should have been happy but, was I? No, i wasn't it felt hollow. Again too easy for him to just die like that and they all celebrate. I won't deny that today my mom is happy, she's remarried to a wonderful man and retired, my sister is married to a wonderful man too and has two children but, why should our happiness come at the expense of one life? I ask myself was this worth it, should we have saved him? The man was a monster, he was a good person once but, his death felt wrong. I mean it wasn't one minute he's alive, and the next he's dead and we're happy. We spent years in therapy, i still have PTSD, body displacement issues, and trouble forming relations. My mom had multiple suicide attempts after that, and my new dad (he is a good person. perhaps one of the few left on this world) spent years with her before she finally trusted him. My dads legacy haunted us but, i don't feel like we won.
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That is harrowing.
 
Fucking hell that's something out of a drama...

Confessor you're alive. You're all alive. That's enough of a win as it is. Hopefully the therapy is keeping you optimistic.
 
That is amazingly incredibly horrifying, but I'm over the moon with happiness that you survived it. I am sorry that you've struggled with the aftermath but you HAVE won; your life and your sister's and mother's lives are proof. I have hope that peace will return to you in time. Cherish every moment you get with your family.
 
Phew. I have nothing to say to that except I'm glad you all survived and my thoughts are with you.
 
The Struggle Is Real

This is a story that happened earlier this year and is so embarrassing that I have told no one about it.

At the beginning of the year, I was told I needed to go to one of the buildings at work that I had never been to before, for the whole day. About half way through the day I needed to piss so I went to the only toilet I could find, but the cleaner was in there. They saw me and left the light on for me to go in (you will see why this is important). So I finished pissing and got back to doing what I was doing.

At the end of the day, again I needed to piss so I went to the same toilet. This time the light was off so I was looking for a light switch (in the dark) and I swear to fuck there was no switch. I looked everywhere but no I couldn’t find anything and this wasn’t a big toilet, it was literally just a box with a toilet and sink. The only thing I could find was this pull down string on the wall. I thought “this must be it, surely”. So, I took a chance and pulled it. No light came on. “Uh oh”. Shit, I'd pulled the disable help thing. Immediately, I thought of what happened in the IT Crowd and thought “fuck, that’s happening to me”. So I got the hell out of there and went home, still needing a piss. Fortunately, I made it home after a 40 minute walk and went to the toilet there. Disaster averted.

A few months after the first time I went to that building, I was told I needed to go there again, but only for about an hour. I managed to get a lift there (I don’t own a car) and went a piss before I left, but I knew I was going to have to walk back to work, another 40 minute walk.

After I did what I needed to do, I didn’t bother trying to find the light switch or another toilet as I was too haunted by last time, so I just left. Yes you guessed it I did need the toilet. I thought, “I made it last time, why can’t I make it this time”. I guess I should explain that I live 10 minutes away from where I work and it is on the way; so I planned on going home first, pissing and then going back to work.

When I was walking back home, the urge to piss was getting more and more. I guess I needed the toilet a little more than I thought. Every step I took made me need the toilet more and more. It was also one of the hottest days of the year, so I had to drink water as I was walking. I contemplated going behind a tree but was too embarrassed. I passed a pub and was going to go there but It was closed. “Fuck!” I knew that I just had to get home.

Eventually, I passed the last corner. I am practically running at this point. But then I had to stop to put my key in the door. I don’t really know why but when I was moving it was easy to hold it in, but as soon as I stopped it became 10 times more difficult. I get in, run up stairs, pull up the toilet seat and try to undo my belt. “Fuck, why won't it undo!” “This shit shouldn't be so fucking hard”. It was like someone had replaced it with a chastity belt. My dick had been imprisoned and I needed to solve a fucking puzzle to free it. By this point my dick had given up.

Yes, I pissed myself. It was the oddest combination of horror, humiliation and utter relief. I have no idea how long it lasted, but it seemed an unusually long time and I couldn’t stop. Anyway, when I had finished I finally got my belt off, cleaned the floor as best I could and jumped in the shower. I changed clothes and hoped no one would notice and went back to work.

The rest of the day I was very quiet and didn’t do much work. I was pissed off just as much as I had been pissed on.

I will answer some potential questions.
Why not public transport? It would have taken twice as long with the route and waiting.

Why didn’t I ask someone where the switch is or where another toilet is? Because I am a fucking idiot.
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The worst part of this is that there are no jokes coming to me.
 
Miles Quaritch said:
Yeah, fuck that guy. You shouldn't even waste a second thinking of that cunt, confessor. Fuck him and let him rot like the piece of garbage he was.
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I know you mean well, but it's literally impossible to just not think about something like that. Shit is going to be with him forever, all he can do is keep moving forward.
 
NotTheGuyYouKill said:
The Struggle Is Real



The worst part of this is that there are no jokes coming to me.
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Man I was hoping for something much more epic with the "you'll see why this important" line, like he peed in the dark next time but it turned out to be his boss's lap instead of the toilet or something. Very disappointed.
 
Arkos said:
Phew. I have nothing to say to that except I'm glad you all survived and my thoughts are with you.
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Pretty much what I'd say. I can see how you'd think back to that moment and the "What if?" of it all, that's perfectly fine to think about. Seeing him face justice would have no doubt been a good moment for you but sometimes you never know. Maybe it was meant to happen like that. At least you all seem better now.
 
This is a follow-up to a confession from last year. Two-timing doesn't always work out:

Well, I sent in a confession last year regarding how I had a fiance but also a girlfriend, both long term. Your response basically boiled down to how I can't keep it hidden forever. Turns out you were right..

I spent the last year continuing on as I had. Things were rough here and there, but I kept both relationships going. It ended with the girlfriend for a few months, but all that served to do was make me realize that I truly did miss her and care about her more than I originally thought. So we rekindled it and things between us actually escalated some. It made me start to question things with my fiance even, but I didn't have any intentions of leaving her or anything like that. Just made it all seem a little less perfect.

Fast forward to about three and a half weeks ago..my fiance found out. I panicked and tried so hard to lie, but it was quickly falling apart. Too many things I couldn't explain away, she was going through call logs and it was just getting bad fast. Things probably would be over now..if my girlfriend hadn't stepped in. See she was going through revelations of her own, finding out my name wasn't what I said, various details of my life were a lie like having a fiance for one. For some reason though after an initial wave of anger and sending more proof to my fiance..she backed down. My girlfriend got in touch with me and agreed to tell my fiance lies so that she'd calm down some. I was able to hide just how bad my cheating was and barely salvage our relationship...for now. My fiance doesn't know I had sex with the other girl, nor does she know the relationship was so many years long, she thinks it was just one. She did see me telling the other girl that I loved her though.

This brings me to today. Me and my fiance are in counseling. We have good days then we have awful days. She tells me she's ready to move on and wants to be with me, then the next night it's a screaming match about how she just cannot believe my story, that there must be more to it. I don't know what to even say though, because she's not wrong.. In fact, me and the girlfriend are still talking in secret. She now knows everything and instead of hating me she's just doubled her efforts to try and be with me. Now she drives out to see me instead of the other way around. We still meet and talk a lot.

I'm basically just stuck, not sure what to do. Things are so bad with my fiance right now and it's entirely my fault. I don't want them to be this way, but because they are it makes my time with my girlfriend seem that much more appealing. It makes leaving seem like an actual option which I had never considered before.

I said it then, I'll say it now. I'm an awful fucking person. I know that. I do care for them both. I want them both to be happy. I just don't know how to do that. I'm a fucked up person in a fucked up situation and it's all my fault. No matter what happens in the future I'll have hurt one or more people I care deeply for.

TLDR; I still have a girlfriend and a fiance even though they both found out I was lying. I'm still a horrible person.
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Oh man, it is just gonna get worse for you. You're gonna spiral.
 
NotTheGuyYouKill said:
Oh man, it is just gonna get worse for you. You're gonna spiral.
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It's obvious confessor. You love the other girl more than your finace. You want them both to be happy? You have two options: Either leave your fiance for the other girl or leave them both and move on and hope you find someone else. You're making this last longer than it has to.
 
WhateverItTakes said:
Fucking hell that's something out of a drama...

Confessor you're alive. You're all alive. That's enough of a win as it is. Hopefully the therapy is keeping you optimistic.
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Indeed. I'm so sorry that happened to your family Confessor.
Don't dwell on it. You can't change the past. Try and be a better man than your father was.
 
Two-timing confessor doesn't realize that once trust is gone, is damn near impossible to get it back and he doesn't seem to really want to be a straight-shooter and work things out.
 
Polygamist Virgin Cult Leader returns:

Quick and dirty:

A couple weeks ago I pulled an all-nighter for a school project. I live at home, about 30 minutes from campus, so after about 24 hours on campus I drove home. Bad idea.

I don't know what happened, but I have a horrifically vivid memory of myself driving onto the grass near my house at full speed, with clots of dirt and blades of grass flying everywhere. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in bed, with no memory of the drive except for the grass incident. I think I actually fell asleep at the wheel, and veered over into the grass by the road. HOWEVER, when I checked my car there wasn't any dirt. When I drove to the grassy area, it looked fine.

Did I actually fall asleep while driving and drift off the road, or was it all my imagination?
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I think it was a dream.
 
NotTheGuyYouKill said:
Oh man, it is just gonna get worse for you. You're gonna spiral.
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Your fiancee barely wants to be with you knowing a tiny bit of the story. That relationship is doomed, even if she forgives you for what she thinks you've done she's going to find out the truth eventually. Especially if the other girl still wants to be with you, since she can just dish to your fiancee and break the two of you up whenever she wants. It's best that she hears it from you, and it's best that you get it over with as soon as possible and stop wasting more of her time.

The other girl knows what you've done and still wants to be with you, you can't completely trust each other because you're both willing to go behind your fiancee's back but that's the most you can salvage from this situation.

Source: My arse
 
falcs said:
giphy.gif
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oh my god I never knew exactly how much I needed this gif in my life until now.
I now know that my life was never truly complete until this day, but that's okay, for it is now complete and I will cherish this gif for the rest of my days.
 
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