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The Psychiatrist (00000233)
0 comments
2.7/5 (70 Votes)
I'm 15 and everyone rocks. If anyone needs a shrink, I'm the girl everyone turns to. But when I need someone and I'm about to crumble, no one is there, and it hurts. My theater teacher is taking another job and that sense of abandonment is killing me. I'm feeling so emotionally and mentally destroyed and exhausted but nobody seems to notice or care. I've tried expressing it to people but they only nod their heads absent-mindedly. I hued noon really does care about me. But I care about myself. And that's all that matters.

Posted on 16.01.2013, 03:41:22 CET
The Bully (00000190)
1 comments
2.8/5 (74 Votes)
A few years ago, when I was 15, on my way home from my bus stop as usual. I had already noticed a boy a few times who bullied his peers. I was really angry with him. He bullied one boy, for example, because he was fat. Another kid was fairly small and wore glasses, and he often threw him off his bike or blocked his way home. They were his age. Those kind of kids really annoy me, the ones that bully people without any background knowledge. The fat boy, for example, had battled leukemia for hears and became fat because of his medication. He still has to take it today, but he is healthy. He damn well can’t help it, exactly like the other boy. Both boys hadn't done anything to the guy and unfortunately let him do anything to them. On the day I mentioned, the bully surpassed anything that had happened before. I had often told him to leave them alone, but because I was a woman and often elegantly dressed, I think he didn't take me seriously. I walked a few meters away from them and heard everything start up again. I was so furious that there were tears in my eyes. I turned around. grabbed the boy, took him by the collar, and after screaming at him hit him with all my heart he was thrown down, and kicked him again. His "friends" laughed themselves silly and his "victim" couldn't suppress his laughter either. He stood up almost crying and ran home, looking back every now and then to see if I was following him. Since then, I think he's left the kids in peace that I've never noticed anything again anyway. I admit that I stooped to his level, but it was worth it. He wasn't responding to words. I haven't told anyone about this because I avoid violence and I can't really be proud of what I did. It just simply had happened, and I ask for forgiveness.

Posted on 16.11.2012, 03:46:50 CET
Gutted by my Ex (00000165)
1 comments
2.3/5 (107 Votes)
At 18, I first met my then girlfriend. She had just dropped out of school shortly before finishing for reasons incomprehensible to me, but I didn't really care about it at the time. She was unemployed for about a year and looking to get more education. She started the new education program and a few months later I broke up with her. I felt trapped and had hardly any contact with my friends, parents, and siblings even though I still lived at home. I wish I could say that the story ends here and both lived happily ever after, but it isn't so. After about a month, she was already with someone new. This wasn't a problem for me at all because I didn't have feeling for her anymore. I had hardly any contact with her because we had a different group of friends. About six months after our breakup, we had a chance encounter at a village festival, and we spoke about the past and what was new. During the conversation, we started to fall for each other again. Finally she broke up with her boyfriend and we were a couple again. Here the real horror begins. She always talked a lot in her sleep and so after about a month, she confessed to me while sleeping that she had cheated on me with her ex. I spoke to her about it and she admitted it and assured me that it would never happen again, and after some reflection, I decided to forgive her. This should have been the second red flag, but unfortunately I didn't pay attention to it.

The following month, we tried to forget the past and build trust again. Everything worked, but not like I had imagined at the beginning, and I slowly started to think about leaving her for good. But fate had other things in mind because despite birth control, she got pregnant. Although I didn't want to be a father at 21, it quickly became clear that she wouldn’t abort the child, and I couldn't do anything about it. Because I didn't want my child to grow up without a father, I decided to try to stay with her. We moved in together and she finished her second education program early against my wishes because she was far along in the pregnancy. About a year after the birth of our absolutely adorable son, we got married. At this point I had already resigned myself to spending the rest of my life with a wife I didn't really love, so I loved my son even more. But then came the moment my life completely changed. After only nine months of marriage, she left me shortly after moving in with me. I immediately began to cry, not because of her but because of our child. Without further ado, I went to visit relatives for about four weeks and then moved into my own apartment. When we divided our property, I got the car, and she got the rest. I had to use my parent’s credit to pay for my new apartment and furniture, as well as the divorce that followed.

A few weeks later, she met someone new. Two months after that, she moved in with him along with my son. Three months later, he threw them out and she lived with her parents for two weeks. I now know the reason. My son was just about to have his third birthday, which meant no more spousal support from me and that she would have to find a job. So she had tried with all her might to convince him to have a child. He didn't want to, however, and couldn't trust her with birth control pills or condoms (you can ruin them with a needle), so he ended it. After two weeks with her parents, she moved into a new apartment and met someone new not even two weeks after the move. Three months later, she was pregnant by him and three months after that she moved in with him in a new apartment, and then married him shortly after. Now for my confession: I hate my ex-wife because she forced me into our relationship and gutted me without my noticing. The furniture for all of the apartments together amounted to about 8,000 Euro of my cash, and the wedding for 2,000 Euro of my savings was still relatively cheap. The divorce took another 3,000 Euro from my bank account. Our whole relationship, I worked hard to feed her and our child. Afterwards, I paid her a hefty amount in spousal support for a whole year. I hate her because she's manipulative and bossy. I hate her because she occasionally turns my son against me, she tells him things that I supposedly did, while I don't tell him anything and worry that his little heart won't bear it. I hate her because she convinces him he should persuade me to agree to change his last name to be the same as her new husband. He's four years old now and cries when he's with me because he wants to change his last name, but what should I tell him? That I don't agree with it because I think she'll divorce her husband in two years and then they'll be a new husband and a new child and a new last name? He sits with me and cries because he's already moved six times and has been in three different preschools. This is why I hate my ex-wife. When I'm with her to pick up our kid, I smile and act friendly. I don't want my son to have to see us argue; children from divorced parents have it rough. I also hate her because to this day, I can't be sure if he really is my son, but I'm too scared to do a paternity test. If he wasn’t my son, it would certainly help my financial situation, but I love him so much that I really don’t want to know. While I wait for her to leave her new husband and find a new spouse able to support her, I hope that the time until my son turns 10 or 12 passes quickly. I think he'll be old enough then to understand, to wonder what happened. I hope that he'll come to me then and ask what all took place, and I'll tell him bluntly. Furthermore, I hope that he takes after me and hates his mother just as much as I do. This hope gives me the courage to endure each day. In case it's her reading this, yes, I mean you. Hopefully there's not another person on earth who fits this story. I'm sorry for this extremely long story, but I could definitely add a lot more details. This is really just a rough outline of what was and what will be.

Posted on 25.10.2012, 06:01:16 CET
Horrible Niece (00000139)
3 comments
2.7/5 (104 Votes)
I don't love my niece anymore. I raised her myself until she was two. She was perfect and everyone loved her. She called me mommy and things were great. But then one day, my mother told me to teach my niece to call me by my first name becuase it was wrong. I did it, understanding her concern. But I came back from a three day trip and found that my mother had used that time to train my niece to call her mommy instead. I had demanded that my mom tell my niece to call her grandma. My mother wouldn't. She said she wasn't going to stop a little girl like my niece from knowing her rightful mother. I was enraged. But she still did everything she could to turn my niece to her. She bribed her with gifts and goodies. She bought her with candy and whatever she wanted. She is now a four-year-old screaming little brat. She screams everywere we go to the point of embarrassment. I won't walk behind her because of how embarrassing she is. My mom will buy her what ever she wants even if it will put her in the hole. She lets my niece hit me, bite me, spit on me and treat me like crap. And then she tells me that she can do whatever she wants to me. My sin, the one that I don't want forgiveness for, is that I hate my niece. I loathe the very sight of her. Her eyes are poison and greedy. She doesn't care about anybody, and she is rude beyond her years. She is manipulative and cruel, nasty and gross. I hate her. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her. I could never love a monster like that child. And my mother turned her into that screaming banshee, all becuase she was jealous that my niece wanted me and not her. I hate that child. And I will not take it back. I know you all will be mad, but you would have to meet this child to understand. This child will pee on the floor or make herself vomit in public places if you say no to her. We've been banned from 22 resturants and fast food places already. We have friends and family that forbid us from bringing her with us because she is so crazy. I hate her. She has ruined everything.

Posted on 16.01.2012, 08:50:36 CET


Throwing Dirt (00000123)
0 comments
2.7/5 (90 Votes)
When I was about 13 (m), I was hanging out with some friends and we were trying to make a dirt ramp for our bikes. I really disliked (and I mean passionately hated) one of the guys (guy 1) and thought I'd do something to piss him off. I got a handful of some dusty, dry dirt, and when the others weren't looking, I flung it in his face. He ran all the way home clutching his face, barely able to see where he was going. A while later his mother then came out and started going crazy at all of us, accusing one of the other guys (guy 2) for throwing the dirt (apparantly guy 1 hadn't even seen me throw it). Then told us that there was some glass in the dirt, and the glass had gotten into his eye. My other friend (guy 2) couldn't control his laughter at the mother losing her cool, which made her think he was the one who did it. She stood there for a further 5 minutes screaming at him for 'doing it', making him laugh more, thus making her more convinced it was him who'd done it. Fast forward a week or two later and guy 1 has been to the hospital and has some sort of scratch on his eyeball that can be fixed, but he will have a slight blur in his left eye permanently. Most people think it was my friend (guy 2) that did it - which he obviously denies. I have never told anyone who it really was. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Posted on 08.08.2011, 02:29:10 CET
Place: Ireland

23 Sins (Kategorie Hate).



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