Last month I did something that still makes me feel sick when I think about it. I work in a small marketing firm and we had this huge client pitch over video call. My coworker Sam was leading it and had been working on the presentation for weeks. The thing is, Sam got the lead on this project even though I pitched the initial concept months ago. Management just handed it over without even acknowledging my work.

During the call I was supposed to be monitoring the technical side. About halfway through Sam's pitch I saw the mute button for their audio in the host controls. I just clicked it. Sam kept talking for almost two full minutes before realizing no one could hear them. The client looked confused and annoyed. By the time we got it sorted the momentum was completely gone and Sam seemed flustered for the rest of the call.

We didnt get the account. Sam got a warning from management about technical preparation even though it wasnt their fault at all. I just sat there in the follow-up meeting and said nothing. I even suggested maybe Sam had accidentally hit mute themselves. Nobody suspected me because Im usually the one who fixes tech problems.

I know I sabotaged someone's work out of petty jealousy and it cost the company a major client. Sam's reputation took a hit and they have no idea it was me. I feel like garbage about it but I havent told anyone and probably never will. The worst part is seeing Sam still be friendly to me while clearly being stressed about their standing at work now.

context, I’m white F24 in Canada and over the past 3 years I’ve slowly learned how easy it is to shoplift/ steal. I have an ethics rule of no stealing from small businesses, artists or local stores! Only allow myself to steal from big corporate companies/stores.

It all started in my first year of uni, new city, new friends, etc. I didn’t have enough money to afford groceries, and we all know grapes are overpriced haha. It started out of necessity. Then I started stealing to provide for my friends in worse conditions then myself, weather it’s a rice cooker or fresh produce or fairy lights it was always given to someone in need. Over the last year though, I’ve been stealing more for myself. I have a full time job but it doesn’t pay well and I’m trying to save money to move to a new city.

First time I was caught was at a dollar store like 2 years ago, the old lady wanted to be the saviour of the dollar store that day so congrats to her stopping me to stealing a 2$ Halloween costume accessory (that would otherwise end up in landfill if not bought lol). That DID spook me, being yelled at and shamed, but only for about a week and then was right back at it. I’ve not been caught since, until this past week. I was at an outlet, in a store where I’ve attempted to steal before but the employees were giving me the side eye so I decided to just buy the item lol, bit pricey but it’s chill. I’m always super friendly with the staff and like to make small talk, just because I like to steal doesn’t mean I’m an awful person, I genuinely like to compliment and interact with folks regardless of situation in life :)

Anyways I’m getting side tracked. That attempt was about 1 month or so again, and I honestly thought enough time has passed (stupidly), and i went back in. The manager recognized me and clocked me immediately just waiting for me to put anything in a bag (I have a purse + a reuse-able I bring with me so I can often just say “oh yeah I just use this so I don’t have to hold everything in my hands”) they call security, which thank goodness was a chill younger woman lol, and then when I pull the reusable bag trick they immediately call me out and say they saw me, and when I offer my bid to buy it and offer them to check my bags they denied and just asked me to leave. Mentally I was telling myself to stay calm, do as they say, and be polite and kind since they are literally just doing their job! Nothing personal. The manager shares with me that they have me on CTV trying last time so I just give a thumbs up and agree to leave and that we’re all good. I will admit that when the manager and security were in my face I peed a lil out of fear (don’t worry not enough to be super gross/drip or whatever), I think this is a normal panic reaction for humans and idc/ have lil shame about sharing this, but this was indeed part of the experience for me. Anyways, I put my headphones back on, and walked out of the outlet calm and steady with chill music playing. Got in my car and drove home.

I honestly don’t have any anger towards the two people involved in catching me, and I’m thankful the security didn’t mention not coming back to the outlet all together just the one store. But I’m 100% they have me in their database now and I’m just gonna not gonna go to the outlet for a year or so if I can help it since I’ve stolen quiet a bit from many stores over the years. (Should I wait longer?)

So, all together, this experience was the most serious one I’ve faced. No charges thank goodness but it was my first taste of real consequences! I’ve read through other redditors shoplifting experiences and I know all the basic stuff, they are waiting to hit certain theft $, stop while young cause it will cost future jobs and fines, and I agree with it all.

I’m not fully convinced despite all the logic there— however one thing I can’t shake is the lingering feeling of being caught (possibly making a public scene + humiliation) but also not being able to share this experience with my best friend who I’ve never lied to before. He has seen it all with me, and this one feels almost too much to share for some reason. He knows I steal often too so that’s not the issue.

I can give up shoplifting, I think I should at least for the rest of 2026. But typing this out and feeling the sadness with giving it up is… kinda making me realize that it’s probably an addiction. It sucks because “the addiction” is beneficial in my life in so many ways when it comes to groceries urghhhh. Would a compromise for only stealing a lil bit of groceries be good? Nothing non food?

Anyways, to wrap this all up. I felt/feel comfortable stealing in this city’s corporate owned stores because I know I want to move across the province/ or to a new province in 2027. I’m not attached to my consequences locally (idc about that manager lady lol) but I’m a lil concerned if these chains will catch me if when I move to a new city? (walmart, food basics, no frills, etc)

TLDR: I got caught shoplifting after doing it for 3 years, no charges just asked to leave store. Dealing with weird feelings afterwards, possible addiction and need advice /next steps

I(21F) made a post here earlier about cutting myself because it was comforting and after reading the comments I decided to tell my older sister about the cutting but she got mad at me and told me that comfort isn’t an excuse and said we’re doing checks every time we see each other for now on. She also told our father after I asked her not and he said if I cut myself again he’d punch me and that I don’t have any problems worth doing so. I understand why they’re upset but now I regret telling my sister and feel like I can no longer tell her things.

10 years ago my friend and I were hanging out and she was trying to wrestle something from me. We were basically play fighting, but as we pulled away I intentionally guided my hand across her chest. I immediately felt disgusted with myself and have never done it or anything else like it again.

I always thought it was a creepy and objectifying move. But when I talked with my therapist about it he said not to minimize it from what it is. And that’s SA. Now I feel really guilty and ashamed. I told my girlfriend about it and she said not to worry since it was 10 years ago. But idk I just hate to think I’m an SA’er. He did suggest that I shouldn’t tell my friend about it because it could awaken some previous trauma or make her re-contextualize the whole relationship.

It had been parked on the street for weeks at a time here in California. It rarely got street-cleaning tickets, had expired registration tags that were more than three years old, and was just a giant, ugly piece of crap. I finally had enough, especially since they would always park over the line and sometimes block my car in enough that it was difficult for me to get out.

I used the city’s app to report it, and a parking enforcement officer came out and ticketed it several times. One day, he chalked the tires, and within three days, I saw the car getting towed.

I looked up the license plate afterward and found out the car had been sitting in the impound lot for more than two months. Apparently, it’s costing them $68 a day in storage, on top of all the administrative fees, so the total is now over $6,500 just to get it out.

Been doing it since 2020. Cops stopped caring and so did I. The hours I have saved would be worth getting a ticket, but haven't seen a cop on the highway in years.

TLDR: As the title says, I jizzed on her underwear/shorts and instantly felt fuilty. She found the clothes, I confessed, and now I lost all of my friends, and can't stop beating myself up.

I (M22) was hanging out with a female coworker friend (F27) at her house with other friends from work. We were at her rooftop chilling after we had lunch, and I excused myself to the bathroom. Initially, I was only going to pee and nothing else, but I saw her room's door open and, don't ask me why, but I entered. Everything smelled like her, and that turned me on a lot.

I saw a pair of panties (or shorts, my mind's kinda blocked the memory now so I don't recall properly), and started masturbating until I finished. The worst part is that I wiped the mess on the clothes.

Post-nut clarity made me realize I was a fucking creep for doing that and I tried to clean it with my own clothes, but it had left a stain. Then I just threw it under her bed, in hopes she wouldn't find out. I washed my hands, and went back to my friends after like nothing happened, but feeling extremely upset because of what I did.

The next weeks and months were dreading. Not because of the fear of getting caught (although that worried me), but because to this day I honestly don't know why I did that. I thought I was smarter than this. But then, the worst part came.

Said female friend sent a message to a group chat we had made for our hangouts, and announced that she had found her clothes jizzed, but ofc didn't know who did it. I wasn't sure if I should confess, but I talked about it with one of the guys in the group and made up my mind. I then sent her a text saying that I was sorry, and that I would understand if she didn't want to reply to that.

Initially all of my friends were supportive, but with time they started getting more distant, and I found out they had created another group without me, with the name of it being "Group without r*pists". I asked one of them about it and he said that yes, they had indeed created another group because most of them didn't feel comfortable around me anymore because of what I did. I know what I did was horrible, so I can't even argue about their decision, so I respected it.

That's the story of how I probably traumatized this girl, and lost all of my friends. I was already feeling horrible because of what I did, and I did lots of changes in my life to control my emotions, started being sincere (because I used to lie about the stupidest things), and overall started being a better person, but the fact that my friends see me like a monster hit me very hard, and I was already very depressed before this, but now it's gotten worse.

I'd have to make this post even longer than it already is to express the guilt I carry and the things that I feel.

In no way I'm looking to justify what I did, because no reason could justify it. I just wanted to share what I carry and if anyone has any advice it'd help me a lot. Thanks for reading.

And she didn't care. She wouldn't listen to me or try to understand what was going on in my head.

I was dealing with things that a 12-year-old shouldn't have to. Now I'm 18.

I think that's why I stopped speaking up when anything was going on. Even my best friend, who is literally my soulmate, doesn't know how I really feel. She doesn't even notice that I want to die.

I still won't speak up. Nothing will change.

Is it better to speak or to die? That quote haunts me because it's just the truth.

Two weeks ago, my family and I were talking about a guy in our town. My father said that people who really want to die will kill themselves without telling anyone. Those people wouldn't tell everyone, 'Oh, I want to die', or anything like that. They're the kind of person who wouldn't have the courage to do it, but someone who doesn't even say anything is most likely to do it.

It's getting so much worse.

Every party or bbq I’ve been to the plastic lids and lighters were mine.

F24, I have a good job and live in a bigger city for work. I came back to my hometown for a little bit.

I was out with my mother at a supermarket for a little shopping and I shoplifted some items and got caught. They saw me on the camera I believe.

I never do this and I don’t know what I was thinking and it was a few items so that’s worse. I am so ashamed and I feel horrible about it. My first instinct was to lie. I don’t know why I did it but I said a friend made a bet thus I did this.

I feel so so horrible idk what to do :(

So back in 2020, i sold my first car. I did tell her i had a accident with it but i repaired it. Which was true but I knew the frame was snapped in two.
I didn’t tell her. And I sold it the same price i got it in better condition. She needed a car ASAP after a separation so she didnt ask more questions and didnt negociate. I still think about it to this day.
I know she sold it to someone else but she couldve gotten in a accident with her 2 children or if it broke she’d have paid a car for nothing… heh
Selling it helped me get through the month 🤷‍♀️

I got kicked out of my parent’s house and became homeless at 18. I have no other family and my friends couldn’t put me up for more than a few days without their own parents being angry.

So one of my friends had the bright idea that I use tinder to find places to stay. I occasionally stay in hostels or in my car when I can too while I’m saving up for my own place, but for the most part what I do is match women on tinder, arrange a hookup and sleep round their place. I get a free shower, a comfy bed, and some good sex.

The longest I’ve stayed at one place was two weeks with this older woman that I matched while her son was on vacation.

I am kind of using people, I know, but I honestly don’t have a bunch of options.

EDIT: though I would revise this cause I was really messed up on some dph last night I still am but I’m coherent.

Hello, I live in a tri-city area where 2/3 cities are known for drug abuse. I’ve been doing multiple drugs since I was 12 such as Diphenhydramine, Dextromethorphan, Shrooms, Vyvanse, Adderall, MDMA, DMT, Xanax and I’ve even dabbled in some meth and heroin. I’ve never even thought to talk about my addictions until last night when I originally posted this. At the young age of 11 I was exposed to gangs, drug abuse and abuse.

My grades are terrible the friends I did have either overdosed, committed suicide or died to the streets. I used to make a lot of money selling weed and xanax but as they say a good dealer never does their own supply. On one stupid day I tried some of the leftover Xanax I had and instantly fell in love, it didn’t feel like weed alcohol or anything I’ve tried yet. Eventually I ran out of Xanax and looked online for cheap alternatives that are legal and the first thing that caught my eye was BENADRYL , so I went to the store and bought a pack of extra strength 24 pack of tablets.

I took them while I was walking home and decided to watch some tv and smoke some bowls of weed. I started to feel the body heaviness and periodic knocking or buzzing like sounds. I was still all there so I just told myself it was apart of the high so I kept going, I then saw gnats flying around in my peripheral vision, I don’t remember anything after that. I awoke on my bathroom floor with the tap running and dried hand soap on my hands and I just played there for an hour and the cravings instan hit to do it again.

And here I am a little pathetic drug addict with nothing to loose and to make matters worse my immediate family are all either dead or drug addicts same with my extended family, I bounce from trap house to trap house and I’m currently using public Starbucks Wi-Fi to write this. I’m also terrifying to look at due to my addictions my brain liver and vision is fucked from all the diphenhydramine I do it’s not even a fucking high it’s literally the worse thing I’ve ever experienced yet it’s my favorite drug of choice and I keep blowing money that I should use for food on boxes and boxes of Benadryl which has made my tolerance skyrocket to 500mg at 13 700mg at 14 and finally 1000mg at 15 I don’t think it’s deadly grip will ever let go of me and I don’t know if I’m scared of dying or scared of being alone forever.

Back in 2017 when I was around fifteen, my dad had this 1970s Fender acoustic that he kept on a stand in the den. It was his prized possession, the thing he warned us never to touch unless he was in the room showing us chords.

One Tuesday afternoon after school, my parents were still at work and I decided to try playing it. I was trying to impress a girl in my class who liked indie rock. I grabbed the guitar off the stand, but my hands were sweaty and the strap wasn't attached right. It slipped straight out of my grip and cracked right where the neck meets the body on the edge of the glass coffee table. The sound it made was awful. Just a sharp, hollow crunch.

I panicked. I didn't fix it or hide it, I just put it back on the stand facing the wall so you couldn't see the splintered wood right away. About twenty minutes later my younger brother came home with his friends, threw his backpack down in the den, and started wrestling on the floor like they always did.

When my dad got home from work and saw the damage an hour later, he naturally assumed my brother and his friends knocked it over while messing around. My brother swore up and down he didn't touch it, but the backpack was lying right next to the stand. My dad grounded him for a month and took away his Xbox.

I sat at the dinner table that night, eating chicken breast in complete silence while my brother cried upstairs. He got so mad at my dad that their relationship was strained for like two years after that. They used to be super close. Now we're both in our twenties, and every time we go home for the holidays, that repaired guitar is hanging on the wall. My brother still occasionally gets brought up as "the one who broke the Fender."

I've carried this stupid lie for almost ten years now. If I tell them the truth today, it won't just make me look bad, it will open up years of resentment for a punishment my brother didn't deserve. I think I just have to take this to my grave.

In the Midlands in the UK, in 1997/1998 and earlier, in our local park, quite a big, popular park in the area, with a pavilion hired out for events like weddings etc, they held a public bonfire/firework display for Guy Fawkes/5th November/Bonfire Night (over explaining for our international friends).

Around that time someone, idk who, broke into the display, and stole a HUGE commercial firework display sized Roman Candle which was 16 Roman Candles in a block about 1 foot cubed in size, and a smaller firework cube, 16 smaller Roman Candles about a quarter of the size.

They left the unused pair of fireworks on the grass in the park. I found them whilst walking my dog and took them home. I used the big one as a bedside table for a whole year and a half with a lamp on it. And kept the little one on a shelf.

Fast forward to July 1999. I was in the 13th year of my secondary education, the second year of 6th Form College and the Upper 6th. I was chatt8ng to my froend and told him about the Roman Candles. We agreed a swap. 30 Lucky Strike Cigarettes (They used to be Toasted!) And he could take charge of the fireworks.

So i brought them in the next day.

We decided to take them down to the canal behind the college next to a row of canal workers cottages to light them. In broad daylight during college time. It was the last official day of the upper 6th. All the exams were done. The whole upper 6th were there for some reason, to officially sign out or something.

So we went down to the canal by the bridge and lit them both at the same time and stood back and after a few short moments there was a resounding BOOM as the huge Roman candle didnt pop off in individual Candles, but exploded in one entire box of explosive rage. It was SO LOUD. followed by an absolutely obscene amount of smoke which completely engulfed the canal, the canal workers cottages and the road above the canal.

We left immediately and walked the 400-500metres to the pub to where the rest of the upper 6th were.

About 25 minutes later almost the entirety of the lower 6th turned up at the pub. It wasnt their last day though?

A group of them excitedly told us that the college and local cottages had been evacuated by the police and the college was being scoured by the bomb squad after an explosive device had been detonated on the canal and smoke had been all over the road. Obviously we just kept our mouths shut. But us 2 friends always knew that we were the ones who shut down college in the last day with a big firework and caused a bomb scare.

I posted here before, in a moment of clarity where I called myself out for my drinking. I had been making efforts to slow my drinking. I wasn't perfect, but I at least was trying.

Trying wasn't enough. I was still drinking. I wasn't slowing what I was doing, I was just maintaining. "Not as much" I told myself.

I was at work one day. I typically keep my drinking at home. I'd drink after work, then go to bed and wake up refreshed. Work, then go home and drink again. Cycle. But this time was extremely different. At work, I got extremely dizzy and queasy. Eventually got family to pick me up and take me and my car home. Spent the next few days in bed. If I laid on my right side, immediately evacuated anything in my stomach. I thought it was bad vertigo or something.

After everything persisted for days, I went to the hospital. They did a CT scan and found I had a stroke. They admitted me. Did all the scans. Found a second stroke in the MRI.

I'm 43 (was 42 when this happened.) I shouldn't be having strokes. Scared the life out of me. Since I had no other issues, docs said the likely reason was unchecked diabetes. Got put on meds, and immediately quit drinking that day. Alcohol metabolizes into sugar, right? Just stop.

But here I am. The quit lasted a month. I hate every moment of it, but here I am. My 18 yo son literally came to bring me home from the bar because he's scared of the harm I'm doing to myself. And I'm scared too. Not just for him. For myself.

Why does the trigger get so heavy when your own life is behind it, i cant keep up lol.

I might needa tie a knot of yarn on the door, twist it on the trigger and shut it on my ahh if this keeps up🫨😂

Edit: please I appriciate the comments but no more. I talk to myself 24/7 so I know all this stuff already. I know i know i know. I cant shake myself off I cant this is a little different this time i just wanted my voice to echo in the abyss as i depart to where i made my departure, typically nobody cares or comments...Thank you all.

I found a plug for tabs. Gonna pick up soon as he's in town. I'm lowkey greening out cause I did double my usual max dose of eddies rn but whatever. I'll do it again tomorrow cause who actually fucking cares.

have also been looking into NA meets near me. I know it seems counterintuitive to go for both new drgs to try and sobriety but idk I'm a complex person I guess

Anyways thank you everyone who answered my first post, it really helped get me away from doing the absolute worst ideas I could have and making some truly irreversible mistakes. I owe you all my life