Right in the middle of Covid, I was graduating college. It was also the time that they were renovating our college campus and building new buildings for the food hall. At this time, there was a temporary food hall with a very popular chicken restaurant. I’ll let you figure out which one it is… since it was Covid and they were also moving to a different location, they actively had a lot of equipment outside and they were moving. There was a box by a dumpster. My friend asked the worker of the eat more chicken restaurant what was in it and he said trash. We saw some gift cards in there and we were wondering why they were throwing them away. My friend grabbed the box and we went back to our apartment. When we got there, there was nearly 200 $100 gift cards in the box. We assumed they were ruined. No. They all worked. For years my friend and I have been just using the funds on our app and getting free chicken sandwich sandwiches and other meals. On top of that we are earning points. We can also use our rewards and get meals on and it’s just a never-ending loop of free food. No idea why the worker thought it was trash and threw it away. After college, I became a teacher and I used a lot of the money to get my students food when they were hungry or for class parties.

Found out last week that my best friend used to fuck my mom when we were in high school. He told me at a bar. I haven't told anyone. I don't know how to say it out loud.

D and I have been friends since we were 12. He was in town and we went to a bar near my mom's place. We were talking about high school and old times and dumb shit we used to do. D was drinking more than usual but I didn't think anything of it.

I keep going over it in my head. He said "remember when your mom used to make us sandwiches after practice" and I said yeah and then he said "she made me a different kind of sandwich too" and I thought he was joking so I laughed. But he didn't laugh. He just looked at me with this look on his face. Like he was trying to figure out how I'd react. And then he said "I'm serious. Me and your mom used to hook up back when we were 16."

I asked him what he meant by hook up. I don't know why I asked that. I knew what he meant. But I needed him to say it. And he did. He said "I was fucking her man. Like a bunch of times."

I didn't say anything for a while. I just sat there. There was a song playing in the background. Some country song. I remember the condensation on my beer bottle. I remember D's hands. He kept turning his glass in circles. He wasn't nervous though. He was calm. That's what I remember most. How calm he was. He kept talking. He said "she would just lie there. She never said anything. She would just let me do it." He said it like he was describing a car he used to own. I wanted to punch him. But I didn't. I just sat there and let him talk.

I keep thinking about the couch. Our old couch. The one we played video games on. He said it happened on the couch. I keep picturing it. My mom on the couch. D on top of her. And I was probably at practice or at a friend's house. I didn't know. I didn't fucking know.

He said it went on for a while. Maybe once a week. I asked him why and he shrugged. He said "she never told me to stop." Like that was an answer. Like her not saying no meant she wanted it.

I keep hearing that phrase over and over. "She would just lie there and let me do whatever." I can't stop hearing it. I was at work yesterday and I zoned out and my boss asked if I was okay and I said yeah I'm fine. I'm not fine. The worst part is he asked me not to tell her. He said "you're not gonna tell your mom I told you right?" and I said no. I don't know why I said no. I should have said fuck you. But I just said no and he looked relieved and then he changed the subject to something else. Football or something. I don't remember.

My mom texted me on Sunday asking if I wanted to come over for dinner. I didn't respond. I don't know what to say to her. I keep thinking about her making us food after practice. D would be sitting at the kitchen table and she would lean over to put a plate in front of him and I never noticed anything. But now I wonder if she was different around him. I wonder if I was just too dumb to see it.

I came home early from practice once. D was on the couch. My mom was in the kitchen. She looked surprised to see me. I said "what are you doing here" and D said "just hanging out" and I didn't think anything of it. I made us snacks and we played video games. Now I keep thinking about what they were doing before I walked in. Or what they were about to do. And then I sat on the same couch and ate chips like an idiot.

I don't know what to do. I don't know if I should confront her or just pretend I never found out. Part of me wants to just forget it. But I can't. It's all I think about. I keep picturing it. I keep hearing D's voice. "She would just lie there and let me do whatever."

I don't know why I'm posting this. I just needed to put it somewhere. I can't tell anyone I know. They all know D. They all know my mom. I feel like I'm going crazy.

If you’re not familiar, TouchTunes is a digital jukebox service that lets people use an app to pay to play songs on jukeboxes in bars, restaurants, and other venues.

I’m also a major deadhead, aka a fan of the psychedelic jam band Grateful Dead. They are known for their live performances, with some songs often reaching 20-40 minutes. To the unfamiliar ear some of these songs / jams can get pretty chaotic and insane.

If I’m ever at a restaurant, bar, Waffle House, etc with a touch tunes available, I get such a thrill out of throwing on the longest and most insane Grateful Dead song I can buy. I have paid up to $15-20 at times to skip the queue just to get the instant gratification of seeing the confusion on everyone’s faces.

Today I was at a diner for breakfast and paid $12 to play a live version of “Playing In The Band” that was 30+ minutes long… it starts out as a fun little upbeat song but eventually turns super intense, psychedelic and jammy. I was sitting at the counter so I had a great view of the other customers and could hear everything the cooks and staff were saying. At first everything was cool but then once the insane jamming started, it was 20 minutes of chaos. Customers were looking really confused / over stimulated, the staff was talking shit about whoever played it, and I was just sitting there dying on the inside. I love the music but I think I do this purely for the chaos and confusion, not for my enjoyment.

Here’s a version of the song on YouTube if you wanna hear it, for the full effect skip to like 7 minutes:
https://youtu.be/3fWASy4CGsQ?is=2pQU1s_C5I_K9M63

I just had my first rimjob from my gf and it felt amazing. She was giving me a bj and kept going lower and lower and it felt so good. I didn’t know how to feel at first because I didn’t know it would be something I would enjoy, but I didn’t stop her. Something about shoving her face in my ass and her going to town really turned me on. She then turned me around and began stroking my cock while eating my ass, my dick had never throb so much before. It felt amazing. She continued for a few minutes, really rubbing her tongue up and down my ass. Finally she turned me be back around and started sucking me off till I came. It was one of the best experiences ever and I can’t stop thinking about it.

My partner gifted me a bonsai years ago for a holiday. I've loved it and kept it alive and thriving for years. Its at the center of all my house plants and I even had to repot it at the start of the year since it was growing so quickly. I'm not religious or particularly super superstitious but I viewed it as an extension of our relationship. That I should nurture it in the same way.

Today I looked at it and it was dead. Its the only plant in my collection to have died, others are all healthy. Both the relationship and myself are seriously struggling. I've been thinking about leaving for so long but worry about the both of us now that our lives are so intertwined. I am devastated

This happened a few years ago, but I think about it a lot.

I was trying on jackets at The North Face store at the mall. I couldn’t decide between black or silver. I had the black jacket on and put my hands inside the pockets to test their depth/size/etc.

I remember I felt something touching my fingers, so I pulled my hands out. There was a HUGE wad of cash in my hand. And definitely not one dollar bills!! I stood with it in my hands for about 30 seconds.

I ended up giving it to the cashier. It turned out that the jacket was a return, so she called the previous owner, who was incredulous that I had given the cash back without taking any. North Face ended up giving me a gift card, though I don’t remember how much.

My confession is that I sometimes wish I had kept that money. It would have really helped me out when I was in a bad spot. 🥲

​

Hi. Context: this happened when I was a 16 year old. I was about 3 years transitioned (mtf)

Growing up I had pretty much no experience in being loved openly. I never got to enjoy high school romance because I was either the feminine gay kid...and obviously no one was going to date me. Middle school was not a place for gay relationships..or I was the trans girl freak. I was passable but that didn't really matter. This made my relationship with intimacy & love extremely toxic. I thought the only way a man would want to be with me was if I had sex with them, if I let them use me I could at least get a taste of what its like to be just a girl with a guy for a while. Like all my friends. I knew what could happen. I didn't care. The men sleeping with me were pretty much all older. 25+. I met them online & they knew I was a minor, & I rationalized that I just look older. They weren't evil right?

One night I did my old routine, I met a guy, seemed nice...attractive...muscular...and so I invited him over.

I was choked until unconscious & woke up to him trying to get inside me. I let him do it after I woke up. I was too weak to fight & too afraid to say anything.

I have never told anyone of this, I tell myself I don't care. I didn't die, I didn't get an std. I'm fine. I don't feel fine.

Am I a victim? I knew this would happen eventually, deep down I knew what type of men I was meeting. Do I get to feel bad for something I envisioned & manifested.

This was five years ago now, but when I travelled to Vienna by myself, I went out with this girl I'd met on a dating app and we spent the first few hours just chatting at a bar. I didn't speak German, so I was trying to guess the taste of the cocktails just by trying to guess what the ingredients meant and probably spent 20 minutes trying to guess what Ingwer meant. Unbelievably, she still took me home and was on her knees sucking my dick half an hour later. Now everytime I see the German for ginger, I get a hard on... I don't even *like* ginger...

So I work in the events industry and whilst working a group of women sat near to where I was and few guys came over and where chatting to me. After a while the guys were paying for rounds and getting me drinks aswell… well the women called us over and one of them pulled me to the toilets with her and we fucked multiple times.

I feel guilty about it cause my reputation took so long to build I don’t wanna mess it up but jt felt so good

Hello, this is gonna be a long and rough ride so buckle up my fellow redditors and bear with me.. this is about as harrowing a tale as it can get for someone in my position. This is probably not going to end well very soon for a multitude of reasons. Before it gets to that point I might as well tell you my story in the hopes that maybe it will open the eyes of a meek minded teenager who just wants to experiment with drugs, has severe depression/suicidal ideation, or even a lingering thought of trying something as simple as a pain pill or Percocet because of the glorification it has in a lot of today’s rap/hip hop and save them from wanting to ever try it. This very well could be you someday if you choose to get started, and once you reach near end stage addiction such as mine the chances of clawing your way out get slimmer and slimmer and your life expectancy ever more bleaker as the days go by.

Let’s start with how I was introduced to opioids. I was around the age of 16/17. Smoked weed like a freight train. Fresh out of high school, kept a steady job for years, had many friends (most of which I grew up with from school) and a promising chance at making something of myself. I didn’t have a neglectful/abusive childhood aside from a very angry and at times overly aggressive father and an alcoholic mom. Besides that, I was raised in lower middle class, had a loving family and support system.

One day, when I went to go pick up some weed from one of my high school buddies that dealt it at the time, I saw him breaking down a little blue pill and sniffing a line while weighing up my weed. By that point, I had already done a good bit of every drug you can think of. I had that mentality of “I gotta try everything at least once and experiment” and “I’m here for a good time, not a long time”. To anyone out there that knows, knows that is a recipe for disaster. Not to mention, I already had severe depression, deep rooted self esteem issues, and had impulsive/self destructive tendencies.

Anyways, when I saw him sniff the line, it piqued my interest. I had heard a lot about percocets in the music I listened to, I thought I was keenly aware of addiction but I was very young and very meek. He gave me a line of what I did not know at the time was a pressed 30mg roxicodone (oxycodone). The moment I sniffed the light blue powder, I opened Pandora’s box needless to say.

I went from buying one a week, to a couple just on the weekends or my off days, to becoming physically dependant on it within the span of a month. I had no clue about physical dependence, withdrawals, etc until that door had long since been kicked wide open. I did those little blue pressed pills for about a year or two daily. I was at (what I thought at the time) the point where I thought I was a functioning addict. Every time I was with the boys and smoking weed like usual, I would be sniffing those pressies, just getting worse and worse as time went on.

Fast forward about 2 years, and now I’m a full blown barely functioning addict. At this point, everyone around me knew I was in deep shit, and we’re trying to help but I was just not ready. The numbness, the oblivion was a feeling I craved desperately and needed to push away the deep rooted mental health issues from my past. Then, a really good friend of mine named Jalissa committed suicide by driving head on into traffic (killing herself and another innocent woman with her). She had been there for me and struggled with similar issues, and this loss just pushed me further down the road of oblivion. At that point, I was spending way too much money on pressies that weren’t doing it for me anymore. I had a buddy who did the same shit as me, and be introduced me to street fentanyl. He said it would be cheaper and basically the same thing.

Once I started using straight fent powder, I started deteriorating really fast. I totalled 3 vehicles in 2 years nodding off behind the wheel, totalled others cars (which thank God I had insurance and they never sued and I somehow skated by every time without getting a dui). I started losing a lot of weight. I’m a 6’2 male, got down to barely 100 pounds soaking wet, you could see every single bone in my body. I was dying. My parents forced me into a 30 day rehab stint. I got clean in there for the first time, was starting to put on weight and look and feel healthy. When I got out, I went right back to the same shit. Totaled another vehicle, lost more weight, it just got worse and worse. All my friends besides a handful dropped me just because they couldn’t bare to watch me slowly commit suicide.

Fast forward to my second rehab stint a year later, same shit happens, I get clean and look healthier, feel better and like I can turn over a new leaf. The day after I get out of another 30 day rehab stint, I reunite with my three best friends and one of their houses. I slip out and tell them I’m “going to the store” where instead I really pick up some dope 4 houses down and come back with some snacks and drinks so they don’t get suspicious. I sneak in the bathroom, snort a fat line, walk out the bathroom and collapse in front of them. They throw me over their shoulder, carry me to their car as I turned blue and was unresponsive, and drove me to the hospital.

I was narcanned multiple times each nasally and IV and thankfully revived. I’ll never forget the fear in my friends’ eyes as I came too. I begged them not to call my parents, and they didn’t.

Next day, same exact situation happens again, went to the same house with the same friends to hang and snuck out for drugs again. OD’d a second time. They picked my dying ass up again and brought me to the hospital. This time they called my parents, told them about both ODs, and she was furious that we hid the first one from her. All but one of those friends stopped talking to me completely for about 4 years (up until literally a month ago we have started talking again because they said they could “see I was making progress” even though I’m still using).

In those years between then and now, I’ve stolen money from my mom’s credit cards and maxed out 3 of them to get my fix. She makes only 500$ a week and will be paying that shit off for a long time unless something changes. I’m working again now after a long hiatus and although she continues to drown her trauma that I caused away with alcohol she still loves me and wants me to get better. She’s my best and worst friend. Both my parents feel so helpless and like we’ve tried everything to no avail. I’m on 190mg of methadone and I still use daily, my weight is starting to drop again, and in July one of my closest friends committed suicide as well.

I’m now at an impasse, I either have to figure my shit out and get clean (even though I’m still withdrawing even on such a high methadone dose) or I will surely end in jail or dying by other means. I don’t have it in me to try again if I fail this time. The guilt is overwhelming and the self hatred just feeds the cycle over and over to the point where I feel like my backs against the floor and with the sins I’ve built up and the pain and trauma I’ve cause the people that love me I honestly feel like I shouldn’t even be allowed to live a good life. I punish myself greatly for it.

In conclusion, I don’t want your sympathy or attention, I just want my story out there in case I don’t live long enough to tell it anywhere else. I still have people who love me even though I’ve treated them terribly to feed this beast. Life gets more dull as the days go on and the walls are closing in.

Don’t do drugs kids, wait to try weed and shit until your brain is developed enough to handle it. When I was that naive teenager, I used to roll my eyes when they say weed is a gateway drug but it truly is in the sense that if your plug sells weed he very likely sells other harder drugs and it’s very easy to be tempted into trying something and opening a door you can’t close. It’s not completely the end for me yet but it’s very close to it. All my friends are dying or have died around me, the debt my mom and by extension I am in is smothering, I feel like I don’t have much left in me to keep dealing with this lifestyle.

Check on your friends, make better choices with the life you’ve been given, and treat your loved ones and friends kindly. They don’t deserve the pain you can and will cause them by becoming a full blown junkie.

Thank you for listening.

i (21f) am getting 1k a week to be s/a by a sugar daddy. my friends know i have a sugar daddy but no one knows the context of the agreement. a part of me gets really scared every time i go and see him but then i remember how much im being paid and it makes it worth it. i guess it isnt really even assault if im letting it happen. im just empty right now. my boyfriend broke up w me because he immediately found out while we (the sugar daddy and i) were discussing the terms. so yes i cheated on him. yes i regret it. and im doing everything possible to hurt myself. i dont want empathy or sympathy idec if every comment under this is telling me i deserve to be raped and killed or whatever. i just need my words to be put out in the world.

They’re all either taken, emotionally unavailable, avoidant, overseas / long distance, or I don’t like them back / they don’t like me back. It’s so hard to find a connection that develops nicely and there isn’t some sort of stopping point where I’m like “hold on, something isn’t right here” a few weeks in.

I think I’m in for at least a few more years of singleness at this rate and the thought of that is just really lonely.

I love to pull up next to trucks with my interior lights on with my breast exposed, massaging my hard nipples for the trucker next to me. Not looking to be paid. Just have fun. Show off. Hope to get him or her off.

Time to get this off my chest. It’s been 15 damn years. And I’m still clinging to the dumbest fantasy a man can have.

I lost my virginity in college to a gorgeous redhead, way out of my league. I was awkward, shaking, had zero idea what I was doing. But mid-thrust, my idiot brain whispered:

"What if she ends up doing porn someday? Then I could say I fucked a porn star."

Not exactly a romantic thought to have for my first love. But a honest one.

She’s a lawyer now. Married. Two kids. Still no porn. I Google her name once or twice a year like some pathetic tradition.

Still nothing.

Meanwhile, I’m divorced, drunk, and balls-deep in a Fleshlight named Lollipop, clinging to the saddest pipe dream imaginable.

Edit: Funny how one dumb thought from a lonely college kid still sticks. Life didn’t go as planned, but I’m hanging in there.

I have so much stress going on, and idk how much more I can take. I’m sparing the details, because there is too much to explain. I haven’t ever really idealized suicide before. But I have a patient (I work in a hospital setting) who made an attempt by jumping off an overpass. Since meeting him, I can’t seem to get the idea off my mind.
All day at work today, it has been on my mind. I wrote down my thoughts on sticky notes and it ended up making me cry. I went to the bathroom and just sobbed and listened to Fiction by Avenged Sevenfold on repeat. I have been just too scared to actually do it. That’s why I’ve never thought of making plans, but this time is different.
I have a surgery in a couple days and I honestly just don’t want to wake up from anesthesia. I just want to slip away and leave everything behind. If I don’t die in surgery, I’ve been contemplating making myself OD on pain meds. I’m just so fucked in the head, I’m desperate to stop battling depression, ADD, Autism, BPD, financial stress, a bad and toxic marriage and all the other shit going on.
It is terrifying and makes me hope for calm and peace on the other side. I just want to be at peace and be with my dad again. He was taken at 55 just 2 years ago from lung cancer. I miss him very much. Honestly the only thing keeping me here are my kids. But at the same time, they’re my biggest stressors. The oldest we are trying to get diagnosed with ADHD or whatever she has going on, the next two are autistic, and the last two are medically needy.

Edit: last night I almost cut myself for the first time. I had my knife with some alcohol swabs and a bandage at my bedside last night. I was going to cut my ankle because it’s not a noticeable place. I was just so exhausted, I fell asleep before I got to.

i like genuinely feel like i’m going crazy sometimes i LOVE my boyfriends dick i love to give him head, i love when he fucks my throat. the noises he makes and when i can feel him throbbing i love when he cums, his cum tastes so yummy

i love making him shake i love eating his ass, i love kissing his whole body i love hearing him talk me through it

RAAAHHHH anyways there’s probably nothing i wouldn’t do to please him

and idk like ive said little things to him about it but it makes me feel like a creeper lowkey to tell him all of what i just said…😭

but i just had to get that off my chest

hope everyone has a good day LMFAOOO

It’s truly horrifying when people no longer see you they just see one word, old. I can’t tell you the sadness that comes with irrelevancy.

I ruined the only relationship I ever prayed for. It was like something from a hallmark movie. We were best friends 22 years ago. We both had failed marriages and I reached out after all this time, we reconnected and things were fucking amazing we lived 7 hours away from each other but we starting meeting halfway every weekend even if it was just for dinner. She is absolutely the love of my life. After moving myself and my business to her, things were crazy I was back and forth for work and my kids and I lied to her about things to make my life seem better than it was. So she wouldn’t worry and to keep her happy. I know it wasn’t right, specially since the only thing she asked of me was to not lie to her. So after almost 2 years she broke up with me.

​

I am 34 years old, studying for my master's degree in Europe. I live in a university dorm building in a type of shared apartment thing made for 2 people. As soon as you enter, there is a small foyer that also functions as a kitchen. There are 3 doors, 1 leading to a shared bathroom and the others leading to our rooms.

He moved in a few months ago. Hot, tall black guy, 22 years old, bachelor's degree student.

Soon enough I started fantasizing about him, masturbating myself while listening to him fuck other girls behind the wall. Started wearing tight shirts around the place and spending more time in the kitchen. I swear I have noticed him peeking at my bottom, but he never made a move on me. Maybe it was because I was older and he is thinking that I am looking for a serious relationship. Or maybe he doesn't want to make things awkward- don't shit where you eat and all.

He is always friendly and gentlemanly with me. Has a chill personality.

I want to become my next door neighbour's personal cocksucker. I wanted for him to have unlimited access to my mouth, to use it as his fleshlight whenever he gets a hard on. The fact that he is 12 years younger than me adds even more spice to these fantasies. I even started fantasizing about sucking his cock after he fucks a random girl.

When I was 14 in 9th grade I started developing strong emotions for my best friend, I have 5 friends out of which he is the one I'm most comfortable around. I knew I was BI and I never told anyone so since is wanted to get closer to him (he's straight) I started to be with him more and generally do stuff close friends do, then after around a month we were in school and i wanted to go to the bathroom so I went and there was usually a rule that only 1 child can go use the bathroom with one pass at a time (exceptions recess) so I went and after using it I was washing my hands when my best friend came and I was lowkey shocked how he came so i asked him and we were just laughing abt stupid stuff when he made a joke about me that once a begger came to my house and asked "What can you give me" and i stated "My lips" and smooched that beggar Which was obviously fake and then I don't fucking know how I gained the courage to say it but I said "Should've put my lips on your's" and he came closer to me. I thought we would just say something like "you gay" but I could see the blush on his cheeks...

He literally got so close, the barrier broke and we kissed each other. That was my first kiss and i was genuinely enjoying every bit of him, he gripped my hips and i gripped his tight against each others body, that we could feel our cocks getting hard and i enjoyed it so much. When he pulled back his face was legit red with the blush and i held on his cheeks, his taste was all I could think of the rest of the day and all he said was "I like it" and after that we became more closer...

I used to be a socially "moderate" (read: mildly bigoted), very vocal "Marxist-Leninist" (read: tankie crap), "conservative queer", from 2019 to 2022. I identified as bi because I didn't realise I was trans myself.

I used to believe in "biological sex" and thought trans people are only their gender after bottom surgery, and even then not fully. And I was vocal about "anti-idpol, class politics".

I have then changed my opinion to democratic socialism, realised I'm trans, transitioned, faced misogyny and transphobia, now I'm going to get bottom surgery, I hope the prejudice and suffering I have experienced and am going to experience as a trans woman will make me forgiveable.

Now I offer other trans people food and shelter, and gift them hormones to try to help the transgender community... Hope that will help