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[–]Avadora 592 points593 points ago

2008 was a rough year for me. I was 16 and living with my dad. He had lost his job a couple months ago and our house was very close to foreclosure, our electricity was cut off, and we could hardly afford to eat. One afternoon, my dog woke me up by scratching and whining at me. Thinking he just needed to pee, I get up and let him out of the room. He leads me into the living room and I see my dad sitting on the chair, head in his hands and crying about how he was losing everything. His phone was ringing off the hook, I look over and there is a gun and an empty gallon of vodka sitting next to him. Instinctively, I grabbed the gun and hid it under his bed. Apparently he had called my sister and told her he was going to kill himself. My sister then alerted the police, they surrounded my house and I escorted my dad out and watched him get arrested with all the neighbors looking. He ended up in the "funny farm" for a couple days. Now he has a very good job and is stable and happy again.

TL;DR - Walked in on my dad about to kill himself, took the gun from him, now everything is okay.

[–]womanisadangercat 478 points479 points ago

Dogs. I love dogs.

I also love happy endings. I'm glad things turned around for your dad.

[–]captainburp 83 points84 points ago

When I was about 17 I snuck out of the house one night. My dog was apparently so worried about what happened to me that she went and whined at my mom while she was sleeping until she woke up and then led her to my room. My mom informed me the next day of how the dog told on me. I got in trouble but it was funny how my mom found out and I loved that dog.

[–]stachist 209 points210 points ago

God bless your dog.

[–]Avadora 38 points39 points ago

I definitely believe he knew what was up. If he hadn't have woken me up, I may have been woken up by a gun shot :\

[–]LordWeird 907 points908 points ago

Mine happened four years ago today, actually. My pregnant (8 months) fiance was killed in a head-on collision at 5:45am on her way to work in her horribly unsafe Toyota Tercel.

[–]jmeadicicco 164 points165 points ago

I am so sorry. Must have been tough... :/

[–]LordWeird 206 points207 points ago

The 6 months or so following their deaths are pretty much gone from my memory. I have no recollection of it.

[–]Ohnoemichelley 45 points46 points ago

The memories after their death is probably for the best... i blacked out a few months after my dads death and my therapist thought we should try to retrieve these memories. They made me literally sick, sometimes the brain just knows the right thing to do... i hope you find as much happiness in the future as possible

[–]lemonscentedanthrax 121 points122 points ago

words can not express my sympathy for you....

[–]LordWeird 99 points100 points ago

I appreciate it. Everybody is different in their grieving. I think this is the first year this date has come and I haven't really felt any grief. So I try to be thankful for that, at least.

[–]n_david 1346 points1347 points ago*

I was 28 years old with a two year-old son and two month-old daughter. As I was walking down stairs from changing my daughters diaper I meet my parents and a sheriff deputy in my living room. My Mom is just saying I’m sorry over and over again and the Deputy tells me that my wife was killed in a car accident this morning. We had been together for ten years and married for four. That was two years ago. That memory still gives me knots in my stomach. EDIT1: Thanks for all the kind words, they really do help.

[–]lemonscentedanthrax 507 points508 points ago

I am so sorry....for you and your children

[–]n_david 620 points621 points ago

Thank you. It's a challenge raising two kids alone, but I'm determined to give them the best life possible.

[–]HipsterSC 370 points371 points ago

You're a hero. People like you give me inspiration. I'm sure the kids love their daddy. :)

[–]TheCaptain81 20 points21 points ago

This will probably get buried but i can relate. About two years ago i woke up to find my wife dead, face down on the floor and not realizing it. We were married for 7 years and she was 28. We had a 4 year old boy at the time. He's now 6. It's never fun dude. I can empathize though.

[–]TheLemon22 1186 points1187 points ago

I went back home from school for the weekend, to attend my grandmothers funeral. Returned home from the weekend and walked into my living room to find that my roommate and close friend had hanged himself. He had been there for about 48 hours before I found him.

[–]Schwayble 939 points940 points ago

I can honestly say I know how that feels.

A few years back, I was in college, dating a cute girl and working at a shopping center near my school. I hate retail but made fast friends with one of my new co-workers. We went to parties together and had a great time every time we hung out. I was getting 'that feeling', the one that told me this guy and I were going to be best friends.

Fast forward to Valentine's Day. My girl tells me we have to talk. I go to her apartment where she drops the following bomb on me: There was another guy. In fact, there had been another guy since day 1. I was naive, stupid, and hurt. This was my first major heartbreak. And on fucking Valentine's Day??

Fast forward to the weekend. I've been moping around all week. I haven't answered phone calls from friends or even gone to class. Well, I finally decide to get off my ass and go out to the mall. I don't know why I thought this would be therapeutic (I'm a guy), but I knew I was getting a discount at work if I wanted to buy anything.

I walk in when one of my co-workers comes up to me and asks if I've heard the news. I have no idea what he is talking about, when he point-blank blurts out "(Co-worker friend) hung himself earlier in the week."

He had tried to call me two days previous to his suicide and I never answered the phone because I was so fucked up over my ex-girl.

tl;dr - Worst day of my life.

[–]GreenCardMe 301 points302 points ago

my gawd... that is terrible. are you okay man? it's not your fault...

[–]aVictorianGentleman 60 points61 points ago

Internet hugs, guy.

[–]TheFecalJesus 303 points304 points ago

Holy shit man thats horrible...

I couldnt imagine walking into that. Not to pry, but did he at least leave a note so you could get some sort of closure?

[–]TheLemon22 272 points273 points ago

Left a note that I wasn't allowed to read (family's request). It was mostly incoherent (drunken) rambling about stupid philosophical shit apparently. There was an empty 26oz Tequila on the coffee table that wasn't there before I left for the weekend.

[–]NeonHazard 100 points101 points ago

I'm sorry for your loss. :(

[–]alexnader 142 points143 points ago

A few years back I found this weird website that had somehow got a hold of a whole bunch of suicide notes. They published them only giving the age and sex of the person who had written them.

If it makes you feel any better, you wouldn't believe how many were just these eerily philosophical rants that made no sense whatsoever. A lot where also ones that were: X, It's all your fault and I hope you blame yourself.

Seriously, remember that these are written by people who have truly lost all sense of logic and are in a very unstable mental state at the time.

[–]wharthog3 134 points135 points ago

[–]pterid 56 points57 points ago

Thanks for posting that, I'm sadder for reading it but somehow I don't regret it.

[–]secondsflat 229 points230 points ago

Cathy -- don't come in.

Call your mother, she will know what to do.

Love

Daddy

Cathy don't go in the bedroom.

:'(

[–]milikania 37 points38 points ago

Single male, age 13

I know what I am doing. Annette found out. Ask Cara. I love you all.

Bill

Fucking hell, I am close to tears but I can't stop reading them.

[–][deleted] 688 points689 points ago

Woke up and had just missed a call on my mobile phone. It was 3.48am, and the call was from 'Dad Cyprus Mobile'. My parents had been slowly moving themselves over to Cyprus over the past couple of years. I figured that my Grandmother had died, as she had been in a bad way for months. I couldn't think of any other reason why my Dad would call me so late.

I sat and waited for him to call back [too expensive for me to call him], and within a minute my phone rang, 'Dad Cyprus Mobile calling', it said. I answered as I would any call from him, "Hey Dad, what's up?"

There was a second or two of silence, normal for an international call between mobile phones, and then my Mum spoke. She said, "I have something horrible to say, so I just have to say it. Daddy's died. He had a heart attack." I hadn't called my Dad 'Daddy' since I was about 9 years old.

I got out of bed, and walked to the bathroom. I walked past my younger brother's bedroom, and heard him watching TV. I stood in the bathroom listening to my Mum, but not really concentrating. Bizarrely, I had a huge urge to piss. Like I was going to literally piss myself. So I pissed in the sink so my Mother wouldn't hear the sounds of her eldest son pissing while she explained how she found my Dad cold and dead on the floor.

My brother, obviously concerned as to why I was awake, and on the phone, at 4am, stuck his head around the door, and asked me if everything was alright. I just nodded and said yeah, it was some girl calling me. He just nodded, gave me a thumbs up and went back to his room. I knew within a minute or two I would have to tel him that, at 18, he no longer had a Dad.

My Mum explained that he and I would have to fly out to Cyprus. Repatriation is a long and drawn out process, and something my Mum simply couldn't face on her own. I told her I would book a flight ASAP. I told her I loved her, and hung up. I looked in the mirror and breathed deeply 3 or 4 times. I was pale, even by my standards. [I'm Irish]

When I left the bathroom my brother was standing there. He just said "Everything ok, bro?" and I looked him in the eye, ready to flat out just tell him straight what happened. But when I tried to speak, my voice cracked. My eyes welled with tears and he knew something was wrong. He kept yelling at me, "What's happened?", but the more exasperated he became, the harder it was for me to speak. Eventually I just said it. He's dead. Dad's died. He went hysterical. Punching the walls, lashing out. Just insane. He got his car keys and left the house right away.

I then called my Dad's sister. I just said it to her as fast as I could, and she was a mess. I wanted to get this phonecall over and done with, because I knew I had an even more painful one to make soon after.

I had last seen my elder sister in July of 2009. It was the 25th March 2010 on this day. She had gone travelling. We hadn't spoken since that day, nothing beyond emails anyway. It took me a long time to sort out how to dial a New Zealand mobile, but I finally got it. When the phone actually rang, I felt sick. I knew this call would crush her. She was initially delighted to hear from me, but then she quickly worked out a few things. Time difference meant it was around 4.30am back home, and I wasn't drunk. Panic in her voice. "Is everything ok, Alex...?"

I didn't want to prolong it. Not having to look her in the face made telling her somewhat easier than my brother. But the sounds she made still scare me and haunt me today. I've never heard anyone sound so distressed. She was stuck on the other side of the world and there was nothing I could do for her.

I booked my flight. Belfast to London to Budapest to Larnaca. 19 hours of travelling, and when I saw my Mum, I couldn't even cry. It was then the 26th March 2010. My Dad's birthday. He would have been 58.

[–]zaqschlanger 141 points142 points ago

I'm crying from this, so sorry for your loss

[–]Parker2010 120 points121 points ago

You told the story beautifully. My family members have always lived pretty close together, and I can't imagine how isolating it must feel when you're separated by so much world.

[–]oooWooo 15 points16 points ago

This is the first one that has actually made me cry.

[–]downwithlevers 567 points568 points ago

Just before Thanksgiving 2011 I spent my life savings closing on a house to buy for my wife and I. I'd been saving that money for so long, explicitly to buy a house after I was married. The same night I closed on the house, I found texts in my wife's phone to another man saying that she couldn't stop thinking about when they kissed.

TL;DR Spent everything to buy a house to raise a family in, found out mere hours later that wife cheated on me.

[–]jstn_ 316 points317 points ago

I should hope that you kicked her to the curb and then turned that house into the sweetest bachelor pad in history.

[–]Almondcoconuts 68 points69 points ago

Bat cave Reddit cave

[–]IsThereADog 1428 points1429 points ago

When I was 14 our school had a field trip to the local ski hill on the last day before winter break. My brother (aged 16) had basketball practice that morning so did not take one of the buses. One of his friends asked me where he was and I joked "he probably got in a car wreck and died on the way here."

I was right.

[–]UniDinoCorAsaurus 572 points573 points ago

Oh my god. ;-;

/internet hug

[–]jbfghost7 269 points270 points ago

I..I do this all the time. Person - "Where's Josey?" Me - "Dead."

Never again..never again. I'm so sorry man.

[–]teh_gamez 303 points304 points ago

I really don't know how to respond to this one, like, no clue.

[–]Magna_Sharta 259 points260 points ago

Fuck. Between OP and this one I'm not even going to scroll down any farther. I'm done at the top.

[–]sparklewater 233 points234 points ago

This is sort of personal, but typing it out feels kind of nice. I once listened while my good friend wailed over his 4 month old son's coffin. I thought that would be the saddest thing I would ever witness. That was kind of stupid of me. My mom died last month a few days before Christmas. It was sudden and unexpected. I am the oldest of 6. The worst day was the 26th. First we went through her stuff and looked at pictures and decided what to keep. Then we had a 1 hour private viewing of her body before it was to be cremated. That scene will stick in my mind forever. I went in first and had my little breakdown before I pulled it together to be there for them. I, my 30 year old sister, and my 22 year old sister were physically holding up my 15 year old sister while she screamed. My two brothers (18 and 21) were making the same wailing sound that my friend had made over his son. My heart had already broken over losing her, but it was broken all over again watching them. I want so badly to spare them. My husband had to drag my 18 year old brother out of the room when our time was up. He didn't want to leave her. All of us who weren't driving fell asleep immediately when we got in the cars to go home. Writing this out was strangely cathartic.

[–]Parker2010 28 points29 points ago

I read stories like this and find it amazing that we're capable of feeling so much pain and loss. I'm so sorry that your family had to go through this.

[–]Marinejedi356 1202 points1203 points ago*

It was July 2001, I was 16, and had been dating my girlfriend for almost 2 years. One day I recieve a call from her parents that she had been hit by a drunk driver and was in the hospital. I go to the hospital, to learn that she had severe internal bleeding including hemorrhaging in the brain, and wasn't expected to live. Her parents had already painfully signed a DNR. She was concious, but only barely. i spent the next couple days by her side, talking, laughing, and hoping that everything would be ok in the end. On the 3rd day, her blood pressure dropped, heart stopped, and she died there in my arms. The last thing she ever said to me was how much she loved me, and that we would always be together, deep down in our hearts. 10 years later I have moved on, have an amazing wife and 2 wonderful kids. but this moment still haunts my deepest memories, and I still miss her more than ever.

EDIT: Thank you for the comments, and the condolences everybody. to answer some questions that people asked, it took many years, and a few failed relationships before I effectively re-entered the dating world. I battled depression and period of suicidal thoughts while in high school, but over time have moved on from it, and have put it respectfully in my past the best that anyone can.

Yes my wife does know about it, and she understands and has always been sympathetic and understanding. She understands that I have moved on, and that even though I miss this girl, that it in no way affects our marriage, or the way I feel about her (my wife).

[–]biapia 577 points578 points ago

Well that made me cry. Fuck drunk drivers.

[–]drtwist 711 points712 points ago*

Here's the thing: those drunk drivers are us, our friends and our family. They aren't some seamy criminal underclass. have you or someone you know gotten into a car after a couple of beers? if you have, congratulations, you are among the illustrious ranks of "drunk drivers"

it's a crime that most of us commit nearly constantly. lots of people even brag about it.

edit: some people seem to think that I'm saying that drunk driving is some how OK. that wasn't my point.

[–]Scriptonaut 309 points310 points ago

Why the downvotes? It's fucking true, and makes me rage. The majority of my friends drive drunk, and make fun of me for not wanting to drive after a couple beers. They say they don't drive drunk, but what they really mean is, "I don't drive drunk, until not driving inconveniences me a little bit.". I'm an alcoholic ffs, but there are more times than I can count that I slept in my car vs driving it home. They just can't deal with being uncomfortable for a few hours, fucking pussies.

[–]jack0191 140 points141 points ago

do you share this with your wife? is she understanding about it?

[–]Weaseal 136 points137 points ago

Honestly, I probably wouldn't share the full depth of the situation. No one could really understand, and asking them to would be putting a lot on that person.

[–]becausefuckrape 715 points716 points ago*

It was November 25, 1998, I was 13 years old. WAlking home from my nephews birthday party. A coworker of my dad's sees me walking and slows down to offer me a ride home. He takes me to his house, beats me and rapes me, then brings me home.

I was to scared to tell anyone at first because my dad and this friend are in a bike club. Eventually i told my mother (who was seperated from my dad at the time) who told my dad, who then let the whole bike club know. I don't know what happened to him after that, my mother just told me my dad had 'taken care of it'

Throwaway account, because fuck rape.

edit: I am pretty sure they didnt kill him... IH have a stronger reputation for just beating on eachother, I dont think its fair to call my dad a murderer... (is that how thats spelled? seems redundantant)

[–]anteris 186 points187 points ago

Was that "bike club" a "motorcycle club", because if so... yeah, never going to have to worry about that guy bothering you or anyone else ever again.

[–]becausefuckrape 170 points171 points ago*

Yeah, my dad was the president of the Iron Horsemen for years in our area.

[–]Netstorm19 256 points257 points ago

Welp glad to hear that guy is more than likely dead.

[–]rileya794 182 points183 points ago

Yeah, 10 bucks says they killed that motherfucker.

[–]Joevual 124 points125 points ago

Good.

[–]BlakeBallard 77 points78 points ago*

My dad is president of a motorcycle club called the road hawgs! They're hardcore as fuck. They like have Raffles and all the money goes to charity ... and ride in Christmas parades ... and pay for new houses for less fortunate people.. yeah! Hardcore stuff like that.

[–]aaipod 135 points136 points ago

holy shit i hope they got that bastard good

[–]jaesle 254 points255 points ago

As awful as this sounds when I read "because fuck rape" then looked at the name, I lol'd.

[–]becausefuckrape 91 points92 points ago

Thats what I was going for :-)

[–]ThereisNOmeme 73 points74 points ago

Awesome dad.

[–]anonsadaccount 207 points208 points ago

I got a call saying I needed to go to my ex-parent-in-law's house, saying it was about my ex-wife and the police where there. I thought "God dammit, what did she do?" We were still friends, hung out a lot, just not married anymore, so I was kind of upset that she would get in trouble.

I get there, and there is just one police officer. And she isn't in uniform. And her car says "victims services" or something along that line. And my ex-parents-in-law are bawling. And my ex wife was murdered. And none of it really clicked into my brain until the victims services lady started explaining different ways people explain things like that to their kids, and I realized I had to tell our son, and I just lost it.

I'm by nature a very shy and embarrassed type of person. I still remember every embarrassing thing I've ever done and feel bad about them. But those aren't shit compared to that day.

[–]toxn54 24 points25 points ago

Did they catch the person?

[–]xBLASTxTYRANTx 1557 points1558 points ago*

I was 11 years old, Saturday August 19, 1995. Woke up, walked down the street with my dad to go to the gym. Both of us warm up on the excersize bikes, I spend less time warming up than him. I get off the bike and move to adjacent room where the hydraulic resistance machines are. Begin to workout, a few minutes pass and I see in the mirror a man moving one of the excersize bikes.This strikes me as odd, so i proceed to investigate. As I turn the corner I see my dad on the floor, mouth open and purple. He had a massive heartattack 10 feet from me, doctors said he was dead before he hit the floor. My life has been a strange journey ever since.

EDIT: Thank you all for the kind words and messages. It means alot to know the interent isnt completely full of assholes. Reddit is a beautiful place!

[–]newloaf 1219 points1220 points ago

He spent his last moments with his son and it was all over in a flash. At least.

[–]HKYK 541 points542 points ago

This. Death can be pretty unexpected but I'd say that this is far from the worst way to go.

[–]loln00b 264 points265 points ago

hugs

[–]MeganFoxsLittleThumb 573 points574 points ago

Having to make the decision on whether or not to pull life support from my mom.

[–]Calcipher 180 points181 points ago

To anyone out there with children. Do your kids a favor, make sure that there is a lawyer out there with very specific instructions for what to do if you wind up on life support. Making the choice now without knowing the circumstances is hard, but making your loved ones do it is a terrible burden to place on them.

[–]teamrobbo 240 points241 points ago

Fuuuuuuuuuuck.

[–]theyoungmachines 389 points390 points ago*

December 5th,2003. I was getting mcdonalds with my boyfriend and we pulled up to his house and my mom was standing on his front step crying while his mom hugged her. I remember automatically thinking my grandma died. We went up to the house and my mom told me to go inside and wait. So I did. My bf and mom were talking outside and his mom told me to not worry and that they would be right back. Both my mom and my boyfriend left in their cars. (They were going to pick my brother up from work) No one was telling me what was happening. After lots of me having a panic attack his mom thought it would calm me down to tell me my dad was in an accident and being kept in ICU at the hospital about a block from the house. With no hesitation I ran out of the house towards the hospital. I ran up the stairs to ICU past the nurse on duty and into the ICU. It was evacuated except for my dad in his bed. I ran up to him as a nurse yelled for someone to grab me. I hugged my dad and when I let go. He said three words that will forever haunt me, "who are you?" My dad suffered h2s poisoning and had completely lost his memory. A nurse grabbed me and took me to a waiting room. No one told me he lost his memory and I sat in that room completely wrecked. My brother and mom showed up and told me. It was too late though.

Over 8 years later and he hasn't gotten back any memory of me or my mom or brother. My parents divorced after 25 years of marriage and my dad lives in a different part of the country.

EDIT: Thank you all for the kind words :) Means a lot to me!

[–]Pointer2Nowhere 74 points75 points ago

Wow, I think that would be worse than losing someone for good. Did he ever develop a relationship with you after the accident?

[–]theyoungmachines 104 points105 points ago*

I had that thought as well for a few years after. It was so extremely difficult to deal with that I felt it would have been easier to lose him. But over the years I've realized that isn't true. We've come a long way since and I'm glad I still have him.

We have developed a bit of a relationship. He is genuinely interested in my life and who I am. We were best friends before the accident and it pains me sometimes to realize he doesn't know that. I have stopped myself a few times from saying "Do you remember when..?" It still happens to this day.

[–]brjohnson789 15 points16 points ago

How did the H2S poisoning happen?

[–]theyoungmachines 27 points28 points ago

He drove truck going out to oil wells and checking them. I don't know the exact details because he clearly doesn't remember what happened and was working alone. But I believe a pipe or hose burst and h2s was leaking out. He realized what was happening and ran to his truck to get his h2s mask and it had been removed from this truck. (company got into a lot of shit about that) so he took off running I guess and it was too late he had already been poisoned and passed out on the approach to the well. A farmer found him and called an ambulance. He had something like 10x the amount that is supposed to kill a human.

[–]Ervin2 13 points14 points ago

I hope you sued the company.

[–]theyoungmachines 13 points14 points ago

700-1000 ppm (h2s gas) results: Rapid unconsciousness, cessation of respiration and death.

He had 900 ppm. Pretty much a miracle he isn't dead.

[–]theGodstopper 376 points377 points ago

I am 19, away from home, going to college. Today, I am getting ready for work. On my way out the door, I receive a call from my mother.

"Your father," she begins. The dread of a moment months in the making hits me.

He will pass soon, I should come immediately. I hastily throw some clothes and necessities in a suitcase and chuck it in the car. I begin a 160-mile drive, racing against time so that I can be with my father when he passes. The entire way, I average 115 MPH. Frenzied and hyper-focused I play through every moment (good or bad) I've had with my father.

I arrive home. The driveway is filled with cars already. So many that some have parked in our front yard. I walk through what feels like a sea of people, looks that feel strange, uncertain. I open the front door; friends, family. I proceed through the kitchen, heading to the living room. As I turn the corner, my brother catches me by the shoulder and he tells me:

"Before you go in there, you know" he pauses for a long moment "dad is dead". This is the first time I have seen my brother (eight years my senior) cry. I can't do anything but nod. The muscles in my jaw feel tight and begin aching. I push through the white medical curtain serving as a makeshift privacy wall.

I see my father lying still, mouth agape. Pale and lifeless. My sister sits in my father's favorite chair, her feet in the chair arms wrapped around her knees. My mother wraps me in her arms and I can feel her tears seep through the shoulder of my t-shirt. I put my arms around her and finally the tears come.

He died peacefully, surrounded by people that loved him. My mother would later tell me that he hung on as long as he could, waiting for me to arrive. As anyone, I live with many regrets. Not being with my father as he passed is by far the largest.

[–]zaqschlanger 84 points85 points ago

I am so close to tears right now

[–]beyondawesome 346 points347 points ago

Best and worst day at the same time:

My mother having an aneurysm. She came out of it alive but has trouble speaking, thinking for a long time and using the right part of her body.

... but she is alive and still has her personality.

[–]sheephead1231 284 points285 points ago

Dude, not to make light of your situation, but as soon as you said she still kept her personality, I was so relieved. My aunt, since her brain aneurysm, has turned into a very upfront (albeit hilarious) person. Whenever we visit the relatives, she immeadiately zones in on my biggest weakness I am concious of, then immeadiately tells me in a 'no holds barred' way, how i am either 'getting a bit fat', 'need a haircut', 'dressed like a bender' was one of my favourites...sometimes I wonder if she truly had an aneurysm, or if she just hates me. But I do love her, so. Life story over.

TL; DR:Aunt loved me, had aneurysm, now thinks I'm a fat trampy queer.

[–]smack1114 166 points167 points ago

I want to hang out at a bar in New Jersey with your aunt.

[–]jaspersgroove 693 points694 points ago*

My mom had cancer, and it wasn't looking good. I booked a flight home and talked to her on the phone about 30 minutes before I boarded the plane. She was gone by the time it landed.

Edit: Thanks for the sympathy, guys. This is the TL;DR version, I'm at work right now. I may go into more detail once I get home, if I feel up to it.

Edit 2: Wow. Again, thanks for the sympathy. I feel like I can tell the story now. It has been less than a year, and the feelings are still raw, but I feel it would be cathartic for me. I have been considering making a self post to tell the story, not for karmic purposes, but because I have a feeling it will end up being a few thousand words and this thread is already huge. As with this thread, I would encourage others to share their stories. What do you think?

[–]wee0x1b 251 points252 points ago

This is a terrible feeling, and I feel for you.

My dad called my cell phone (which had battery issues) on a Friday, and he left a message asking if I wanted to do something with him that weekend. He went into the hospital Monday and never came out. I got the message Tuesday and it was fucking terrible.

[–]ThreeBlindMice 191 points192 points ago

Alright, I'm done here.

[–]TBlight 602 points603 points ago

Not my worst day ever but...

When i was about 10, i got to the hospital about 5 minutes after they declared my Dad dead. I was very angry because if the people bringing me to the hospital hadn't been assholes and stopped along the freeway rest stop 3 times and once to have McDonalds (and argue about my sister and me crying), I would of been there in time.

[–]professorhazard 118 points119 points ago

THAT's not your worst day ever?

[–]Ersers 525 points526 points ago

What a bunch of fucking douchebags.

[–]Kashii 36 points37 points ago

Bringing kids to their dying father; Better get some fast food.

[–]IAMGodAMA 23 points24 points ago

I suspect that there may be more to this story than we think.

For example, if they made 3 stops at a rest stop then it was probably a 500 mile drive or so.

Should have toughed it out at least a little bitter but still, you get it.

[–]covert888 387 points388 points ago*

Your story makes me want to punch some people off of a bridge above a lake of fire filled with sharks that never die.

[–]sheephead1231 256 points257 points ago

I now have you tagged as 'go to in need of revenge plot'

[–]covert888 248 points249 points ago

I don't work sundays. Not because or catholic stuff just I like a day to relax and sharpen my pointy things.

[–]yannickmahe 33 points34 points ago

Oh god. I can't even imagine what your worst day ever was.

[–]blingbin 80 points81 points ago

Did they, at the very least, apologize?

[–]ccesssu 70 points71 points ago

it feels weird to upvote, i'm sorry

[–]taacky 159 points160 points ago

Last year on the 15th i watched my mom pass. I was in my bedroom with my girlfriend and heard a loud THUD! I didnt react for a moment, and proceeded to my parents room. My mom was on the floor and my dad was trying his best at cpr. I knew a little so i started to help. I watched my dad lose his wife that he had been with since he was 14 and also watched my mom leave forever. Worst day...Ever!

[–]n3ro 35 points36 points ago

Bro hug.

[–]ErinBetweenTheEars 945 points946 points ago*

The worst day of my life was a conglomeration of shit that had been going down for nearly a year. My Mom was living 3,000 miles away from me in FL (me and in CA) while suffering with breast cancer. She'd had her breast removed, gained 70lbs from steroids, lost all her hair, was dumped by her boyfriend and began drinking again after nearly 7 years of sobriety. I wasn't speaking to my father because he pitched a fit about not being able to walk me down in the aisle on my wedding day...ON my wedding day; meaning he waited until the big day to tell me he was pissed about it though he'd pretended to be okay with it for weeks. He couldn't walk me down the aisle because his body was in decay due to his 25+ years of alcoholism and 40+ years of smoking. His heart was failing, he had been in a coma in the hospital for a month and weighed a mere 118 lbs at 5'11". He had a colostomy bag due to diverticulitis very exacerbated by his constant drinking. We're talking about a gallon of Vodka a day for many many years.

So the actual day. I'm at work. I get a review which doesn't go very well and is given to me by a boss who I hated and who also hated me. I was fucking up a lot at work due to stress in my outside life. She had no sympathy. I take my lunch and my phone rings and it's my grandmother's number in FL. My grandmother who was/is a pill addicted and very mean person. She tortured my Mother on a daily basis with her verbal assaults all while my mom was enduring painful chemo therapy and watching her body fall apart. I answer the phone and it's a Collier county Sheriff. I knew right away. My Mom had killed herself. I called my Dad immediately though we hadn't spoken in 8 months. I guess I should have mentioned my parents divorced when I was 13 and I am 23ish as this is all happening. I am screaming and crying and he says, "Good. She finally went through with it" and hung up. I get a ride home from work and wake my husband up because I'm screaming the moment I walk in the door. I was completely hysterical and didn't know what to do. Husband takes care of getting us out there. The first words out of my grandmother's mouth to me are, "I thought your Mother believed in God. She knew people who commit suicide go to hell." I had to be held down by 4 family members including my husband because I was trying to attack my grandmother and kill her. I don't remember much else about that day. Just that it was the worst ever.

Thanks for letting me tell that story. I've been feeling the need to.

EDIT: Thank you everyone who offered kind words and encouragement. I'm off to bed now. If anyone replies in the night, I'll make sure to write back in the morning. Thank you again. I really didn't expect such an outpouring of kindness. I just wanted to get it off my chest.

[–]TunapathaN 223 points224 points ago

='[ Sorry to hear about that. Your husband sounds like a good man, keep him close.

[–]ErinBetweenTheEars 117 points118 points ago

I promise!

[–]tomacuni 308 points309 points ago

If I ever run into her, I'll pop your Grandma right in her evil little jaw for you, your dad too

[–]ErinBetweenTheEars 89 points90 points ago

Haha, thank you :) I care so little about that evil little woman. There's a part of me that knows she's such a horrible shit to everyone because she's so unhappy with herself. As far as my dad goes, he's a very sick and very addicted man. I gave up talking to him about his alcoholism long ago. We speak now on occasion, though I recently moved about 2,000 miles away. This has made my daily life a lot easier. When it comes to our families, we all like to believe that they will be so much "better" than all the shit we see on A&E, but no one is exempt.

[–]you_had_me_at_bacon 39 points40 points ago

holy shit. personally this sounds much worse than many on here. i am sorry about your loss and hope things are going better these days

[–]ErinBetweenTheEars 69 points70 points ago

Thank you and yes, my life is much improved. It's weird to say this, but I'm sure everyone in my life can attest that the death of my Mom changed me in a very positive way. I had been dealing with some emotional issues and serious anger problems since I was a young teen. Up until that day, I thought change was impossible and I'd always be this tormented shitty person. But something in me just released while I was sitting alone on my cousin's balcony reading my Mom's notes to the world at large and one to me. I suddenly let everything go and I've been a much clearer headed, empathetic, and solid human being since it happened. I can't explain why.

[–]kaceytron 304 points305 points ago

The day we found out my boyfriends younger brother's cancer had re-appeared. The severity of it didn't hit until the doctors recommended we go to Disney World before they started treatment. Almost two years later, he's still fighting.

http://i.imgur.com/k6Iiz.jpg

[–]naughtydismutase 31 points32 points ago

Cute kid, badass toys! I wish he makes it through and gets out of it completely healthy.

[–]The_Adventurist 57 points58 points ago

This isn't as bad as many of your stories about loved ones dying, but here's mine.

I was in Kashmir, on a houseboat. I had been bed-ridden for the past 5 days with what I was quickly realizing was dysentery (I ate local ice cream after my host father insisted) my host father knocked on my door and told me the jeep was ready. I was going to get in a jeep and ride from Srinagar to Leh in Kashmir, over some of the highest roads in the world. Of course, going from anywhere to anywhere in Kashmir takes 14 hours by jeep, 2 days by bus, and the roads are terrible. When I say terrible, I mean fucking terrible. They're routinely washed out, they're tiny and have to be shared by giant diesel trucks going both ways driven by truckers who are on speed, cars and trucks regularly plummet off the sides of the roads and fall thousands of feet to their doom. Ok, fine, I know the risks, I was just hoping to not have dysentery while making this trip.

Well, as I'm getting up, I realize it's a Monday and, therefore, malaria pill day. I was taking malaria pills that you need to take once a week, but often give you unpredictable mental side effects. It's different for everyone, but hallucinations and anxiety are common. It's possible for you to also fall victim to sudden amnesia and essentially "wake up" without knowing who you are, where you are, or why you are there. Oh, and this pill makes you feel like shit for the entire day that you take it. So I pop that in and swallow it.

Then I get to the jeep. I swing my bag in to the window seat to make sure I at least have a view so I don't feel any MORE shitty than I already do during the 14 hour rocky trip east. However, I spent my last rupee getting on this jeep, so I need to find an ATM. Luckily for me, there's one somewhat nearby. So I leave my bag with the jeep driver in the window seat and run off to grab some cash. I get it and come back. My bag has been moved to the middle seat and my window seat was invaded by an Israeli like it was the Gaza strip.

The Israeli looks at me like nothing is wrong and he has nothing to feel bad about. I told him that my bag was on that seat and I was expecting to sit there, he says too bad, now you sit in the middle. I'm thinking, "fuck this fucking fuck", but I also have dysentery and I'm preparing for hallucinations soon, so it's best not to start shit with him considering we're going to be next to each other for 14 hours either way. So I take my middle seat while thinking, "how bad can the back middle seat really be?" As it turns out, it's fucking horrible. Not only can you not see anything, but because you're at the back, you get the worst of the bumps and jolts.

Ok, so I strap myself in tight and try to use my sheer will to ward off dysentery for the next 14 hours. For the first hour, it works, surprisingly. Each second ticks by like a minute, every minute like an hour, etc, but I'm managing to keep it together. Then, we stop at a security forces road block. Everyone has to get out and give over their identification papers to some soldiers. For foreigners, the Israeli and I, we have to fill out some longer forms that take about 10 minutes to complete. As soon as I'm done with that, I run behind a boulder and release the kraken. I instantly feel 1000% better, having temporarily relieved the pain and pressure that I had been fighting for about 2 hours. We get back in the jeep and press on.

The roads are getting worse as we ascend into the Himalayas, the jolts and shaking make it extremely hard for me to keep my concentration on holding back the tide of dysentery. It feels like a boxer is constantly punching the base of your spine and the back of your neck as the jeep whips you from side to side without rest. After another few hours, another security roadblock. We follow the same procedure as before, forms, passports, signature, done. I don't see much of anything to hide behind on this tiny road outpost on the edge of a cliff, so I ask the officer in charge if there's a bathroom I can use. He says I can use the "officer's bathroom". I get a little excited and imagine a place with plumbing and relatively clean running water. I follow his directions into the tiny police station, then out the back door, then to what I can only describe as a stone shack perched over the cliff face. I open the door and it's just a hole that immediately breaks away to a 1000 foot drop below. I take off my belt and wrap it around a metal stake in the ground and use that to lower myself backwards, over this hole. Again, kraken is released, feels good man. I come back to the jeep and we head off again.

I neglected to mention that the rest of the jeep is filled with Kashmiris and Kashmiris love to smoke hashish. All the passengers, except for me, are blazing as we ride. They keep the windows rolled down to let air circulate until a diesel truck comes barreling down the road, then they quickly roll the windows up to avoid catching a blast of diesel fumes to the face as the exhaust pile is always window-height and shoots a thick plume every time the driver shifts gears, which they do a couple times while maneuvering around a jeep. This would be fine except for the fuckface Israeli guy who got incredibly high and can't handle it so he doesn't know when to roll up his window and I can't exactly reach over him to get at it myself, so he and I catch a facefull of the smoke monster from Lost about once every minute or two. This is also when the malaria pill's side effects start to kick in and I get "day terrors". Meaning, I feel this strong sensation that something is rushing towards my face at random intervals over the next few hours. It's similar to that sudden falling feeling some people get just as they're about to fall asleep. I get that, but with my eyes open and instead of falling, something is flying at my face.

As we get even higher, altitude becomes a factor. We're approaching 17,000 ft on these roads and with that comes early signs of AMS. Although, at this point it's hard to separate them from all the other shit I'm going through. I get nauseous and have a pounding headache to go along with the day terrors, dysentery, and road smashing my spine up.

Eventually we stop at an outpost that serves curry and water for a break. I find a place to release the kraken again and then just lay in the dust, staring at the mountains, zombified. We're so high up that I can feel the sun burning me within minutes due to the lack of atmospheric protection that you could expect at lower altitudes. However, a sunburn is nothing compared to all the other crap that's going on with my body, so I just continue to lay there.

After about 20 minutes, the driver comes back and we press on. We're only halfway there. What follows is more of the same, rocky roads, diesel bukkake, and intense concentration on not exploding from dysentery. The Israeli is also starting to be more of an asshole than normal, now. He starts telling me about how he's so much more experienced in life and how he's such a badass and how "you'll never understand". He's still high as fuck, so his arguments aren't making a ton of sense, but he still sounds like a dick because he's only 22 and also fuck him. We also pass more roadblocks, one every hour or two, filling out forms and checking IDs is normal by now. The sun goes down and what little view I had of the outside of the jeep is replaced by inky blackness.

Finally, Leh comes into view and we make it to the bus depot there. We thank the driver and tumble out of the jeep. The Israeli says he knows where a cheap hotel is, so I begrudgingly follow him. Leh isn't a big place, so you take what you can get when it comes to taxis at night. There is only 1 taxi at the bus depot and the Israeli says it's a mile uphill to the hotel area. We walk over to the taxi driver and the Israeli just says, "do you know where the blah blah hotel is?" The taxi driver obviously doesn't speak English that well, so he leans his ear in and says, "what?" This, for some reason, infuriates the Israeli and he slams the taxi door and yells, "fucking idiot, we'll walk, then!" The taxi driver seems confused, but angered and drives away. Well great, now I have to walk a mile uphill in the dark. So we do and I stay silent about the whole affair. About three quarters of the way up, we pass a cafe full of Israelis who recognize the guy I'm with and shout at him. He turns and looks at them and happily shouts back. The Israelis all come running down to greet him. One of his friends looks at me and, with a disturbed expression, says, "your friend, he doesn't look so good". The Israeli shrugs it off and says, "he's fine, let's get some dinner". His friend isn't too sure and asks me if I know where I'm going, I tell him I just want to find a hotel that has running water for the night, tomorrow I'll get a cheaper one, but for tonight I need a place to wash myself and get a good nights sleep. He brings me to the only hotel that has electricity at the moment, I walk in and the receptionist looks at me like some sort of mountain ghost had just wandered in. He says, "sick?" I nod, he shows me the price of their room and says, "ok?" I nod again. He takes my back pack and helps me upstairs and into the room. He says, "wait... 1 minute" and gestures for me to sit down in the room while he goes and gets something. He comes back with some packets of this salty solution and a 1L bottle of water. He mixes them together and says, "drink all water". As I drink it, it tastes like salty syrup that's filled with sand. It's pretty awful. I finish the entire thing, hit the bathroom and enjoy an amazing shower with hot water, then pass out on my bed. I wake up the next morning feeling fine, meaning, by comparison, I felt like a billion dollars.

So that's my long story about the longest and worst day of my life, physically speaking. I can't compare to these other stories on an emotional level.

[–]CancerTheDino 265 points266 points ago

I was 11 years old. My parents had gotten divorced a few months before and my older sister (2 years my senior) was acting out more so than usual. We were very close back then, and we were playing Monkey Island together. She left to go to the bathroom, and was in there for a while. Starting to get worried, I went to go check what was wrong. She didn't respond.

I ended up having to break the door open (lucky for me the door lock was flimsy) and she was drowsy, on the floor after taking some pills. Of course, her stomach had to be pumped and my mom was in hysterics.

I was just an 11 year old kid that wanted to have an older sister he could get along with normally. From that day on, we never really had as close a relationship.

[–]tcsuperstar 134 points135 points ago

You're a good sibling.

[–]Gammro 47 points48 points ago

Wait, you're less close now? After that happened?

[–]CancerTheDino 83 points84 points ago

Yep. It sadly was the start of a series of behavior that caused extreme strain on my parents (not this one in particular), many times for no reason at all other than pure selfishness.

I guess I've seen the huge amount of verbal abuse she has given my folks, sometimes over the slightest rule or request, and I find myself not being able to sympathize with her anymore.

[–]GenericallyJenn 279 points280 points ago

Two years ago, I got a phone call from my mother-in-law that my husband had committed suicide. Worst day off my life so far and probably ever.

[–]Hellstruelight 492 points493 points ago

Broke up with my girlfriend when I found out she was cheating on me. I talked with her before leaving and she yelled at me that she wasn't at fault, that she hated me, that she didn't care she hurt me. When I got to my parents place my dog died in my arms. True story.

[–]Grimmjow459 94 points95 points ago

Thats fucked. I'm sorry man

[–]FearTheGinger 43 points44 points ago

(TL;DR version) My ex told the apartment complex management that I was living there while not on the lease, in order to boot me out of the house. It was his way of dumping me. I had no idea we weren't working out until he started packing up my stuff. Things got heated, and he went psycho and snapped my glasses and laptop in half. He threw my potted plant out the window. So in retaliation (I know, I know, childish) I broke our mirror. (the cheap long ones you attach to the back of doors so you can see your whole body.) He tackled me and started choking me. Our roommate, who is a big guy, had to come and pull him off me. My ex goes into the living room and calls our mothers to come "sort this out". Not even joking. So our moms come in to referee, find me crying and my shit broken, and my mom takes me to her house. His mom swears to gather all of my things and bring them to me. (an hour away) She is mortified at her son's actions. He was emotionally abusive before that, and continued to play mind games for months following the break up.

My roommate who helped me got kicked out by my ex the next day, and was homeless for 2 weeks until we found a new apartment. We moved in together, and fell for each other. We've been together for almost 4 years, and now have a baby. :) So happy ending.

[–]noxetlux 409 points410 points ago

Mine wouldn't have been quite so bad without the bad days that had preceeded it:

Prior to this particular Bad Day, I had - in the space of 2 weeks - had to put my dog down, been dumped, and had surgery that would put me on crutches for several weeks. I had been recuperating from the surgery and made it back to work for a couple of days. Then on this particular day, I'd started by going to physical therapy, which hurt and made me cranky.

Then I realized that I'd either have to walk a long ways in snowy/icy conditions or be super late to work.

And I realized I'd forgotten my lunch at home.

So I went home to get my lunch and as I unlocked the front door...my key broke off in the lock.

Which doesn't sound so bad but the combined stress of the previous month came welling up and I just snapped.

I rounded out the day in the ER on suicide watch.

I feel a great deal better, and if that's the worst day I ever have...I can handle it.

[–]yesukai 142 points143 points ago

Which doesn't sound so bad but the combined stress of the previous month came welling up and I just snapped.

I rounded out the day in the ER on suicide watch.

I feel the most interesting part of this story may be lost between these two lines.

[–]YourRaraAvis 70 points71 points ago

[–]roflz 114 points115 points ago

Upvote for positive ending.

[–][deleted] 184 points185 points ago*

When I was 15 years old I had to make the greatest decision concerning not only my life, but my two brothers as well. The day in question was March 1st, 2003. I will never forget that day.

I woke up and began my usual routine of preparing tea for my father and making food for me and my brothers. My older brother had already left for school (he was in college), so the only people that were in my house was my father and my younger brother. Around 7~AM that day my father woke up and we greeted him with "good morning" but he didn't answer. Whenever my father doesnt answer a greeting it was a sign that there was something bothering him and he was going to take his anger out on me and my brothers. The thing is, my father had been absuing me and my brothers since I was 8 years old. So a good 6-7 years of the most horrendous physical abuse you could imagine short of breaking an arm; I have lost a lot of abilities, such as doing certain type of mathematical calculations, have terrible memory, and have a hard time learning things. Prior to living with my dad, which began at the age of 8, I was told by teachers that I had the highest IQ in my entire school, and was sent to compete in many contests representing my school. When my dad started physically abusing us, I personally started to begin doing horrible at school. And if I got horrible grades he would punish me physically. Vicious circle, no? I remember when I was about 14 years old, I was sitting close to a wall and he slapped me so hard, my head slammed against the wall and I fell to the ground. It was just down hill from there for me educationally. As a consequence, I have been forced to abandon a lot of fields that I require scientific and mathematical knowledge; such as doctor, pilot, astronaut, etcetera.

A little bit more information to set the stage for the worst day in my life. The thing is my father really hated my mother and as a consequence he hated us even more for "coming out of her stomach [sic, verbatim what my father would tell us every time he would beat us]". So he would punish us for something we had absolutely no control over. The physical punishments ranged from sitting on top of our back like a chair, choking us, throwing dishes at us. On top of it all, we were not allowed to have any friends whatsoever, let alone go and hang out at a friends house. We were simply allowed to goto school and given a 30 minute time frame to be home from the time the last bell of the day at school rang. If we made it home a few minutes late, it would lead to physical, emotional, and psychological torture. To give you an idea of how bad me and my brothers had it, when my older brother got a job, he was expected to come home for his breaks. If he didn't it was physical punishment that sometimes had me fearing that "today is the day that I will die"; that bad.

Back to the story. So by 2003 I had become generally used to the physical beatings. On March 1st, my father woke up and I could smell booze on him. The way he carried himself signaled that we were about to get punished. The day in question was the first day of March Break/Spring Break for my district, so I was looking forward to playing video games/watching tv (all we could really do since were prisoners in our own home). When my father would get mad at us, the punishment wasnt a single-day-event, but would last weeks. So the second I realized my father was mad and were going to be his punching bag, I knew that we had absolutely no way of escaping his wrath (going to school was our way of escaping his wrath, our only means).

He came into the kitchen, asked where my older brother was at, and when I told him he was at school, he accused us of lying and said "how come you guys have school off? You guys are lying". He was accusing us of lying because he assumed that all schools, elementary school and post-secondary school (college/university) had the exact same "spring break" break. If you attend university, you will know for a fact that the break in question are about a month apart for different schools and institutions. This is where it turned into a nightmare beyond nightmares. He went into the kitchen and brought out 3 different sized knives; long, medium, small. He pointed at the long knife and said "this is for [my older brother]", then pointed at the middle sized knife and said "this is for [Behz_branigan]", and he pointed to the smallest knife and said, "this is for [my younger brother]". He said he was going to use the knives to "finally kill the sons of that bitch [my mother]". Then he began to beat the living day lights out of me and my younger brother. Then, I dont recollect exactly why, but he stopped after a period and left the house. I asked my brother "do you want to go to the cops?", and he replied (I will never forget the tears in his eyes), "Yes". We got into a cab and told him to take us to the nearest police station. From there it got progressively worse. The thing is, my older brother had no idea what we had done and the entire time as we spoke to the police officers about what had happened, we were thinking that my brother will go home and my father will surely kill him for what we had done. We spoke to the police officers and let them know that my older brother's life was in grave danger. They contacted the campus he was at and after a lot of back and forth (campus was hesitant to share my brother's class schedule, because we had no idea what classes he had, so they could reach him before he went home, but they ultimately relented) they finally got to my older brother.

I have not spoken to my father in 10 years. He wanted us gone, well we left him. He did get charged but for 7~ years of hell, he got 30 days in jail and ended up on registery forbidding him from being around children.

I am in university at the moment studying in the fields that my father's physical abuse hasn't corrupted for me.

The mother that my father hated so damn much, he separated us from her when I was 3-4 years old. I am almost 26. I havent seen her in 21-2 years.

I hate him so much. I sincerely believe my father was the devil.

Don't get married if you aren't emotionally stable. Don't have children if you arent happy with your life.

[–]lurking_llama 24 points25 points ago

Woah, to say that is some seriously messed up shit would be an understatement. I am glad you came out of it and hope you never have to interact with that sadistic arsehole ever again.

[–][deleted] 13 points14 points ago

We still live in the same city. I am glad that I havent run into him again. Thank you for your well wishes. My brothers and I are all on the verge of our own respective successes in life. I hope to one day, very soon, find my mother and show her the successful children she gave birth to. I dream of it every damn day.

[–]freckles2 41 points42 points ago

I was 29 and two weeks away from my wedding day. I was diagnosed with an STD and the doctor asked if I was in a monogamous relationship. I said, "I should hope so. I'm getting married in two weeks." She said, "That's no guarantee." I told my fiance this story thinking it was just interesting that she had said that. At that point he admitted he had slept with multiple women while we were engaged. I was totally shattered and curled up in bed for a few days. It was really traumatic.

[–]Divayth_Fyr 196 points197 points ago

I was eight and my mother stood me up in church to ask everyone to pray about my bedwetting problem. Including the other kids, and including one girl in particular that I was fascinated with. Seeing that girl kneel and pray about that was so utterly humiliating, I wanted to just die.

I've had some bad days but that was the worst.

[–]mamasgotabrandnewbag 86 points87 points ago

I know that's your mom...but...what a bitch!

[–]tossit24 138 points139 points ago

so obvious throwaway but:

First year of university, I was in a deep deep depression, cutting, drinking, etc. One night, around 3 am I decided fuck it, took a bunch of pills, vodka, and cut deep. I was at that point, just wanting to escape. In the morning, I knew I needed help. I asked my mom to take me to the hospital. The look in her eyes...it was horrible. Once there, I was given medicine to save my kidneys, put on a psych hold, had to confront all of my issues. The hardest part was knowing how much I had hurt my family. My sister still hates me, and my family has never been the same. That was a horrible horrible day.

[–]lowercaselaurel 85 points86 points ago

Wow, I'm sorry...

Your family shouldn't have acted that way, though. You reached out for help, which is hard to do. Everyone has issues...they shouldn't hate you for yours. :(

I hope you're getting help and getting better.

[–]HomebrewHero 105 points106 points ago

My mother had breast cancer, very aggressive, and we knew it wouldn't be too long. However, she was steadfast in her desire to see her own mother one last time. So, she and some of her friends made the long trip (about 8 hours) to the coast to see my grandmother. That morning, I was studying for exams - I was a first-year graduate student in biochemistry - and was meeting my group members over coffee. I got a phone call from my father at about 9 am, he was crying, and said it didn't look good, but that he would keep me posted, and to stay at school. A few hours later I was at work (on campus) when he called again and confirmed her death. Her body was being transported back to [Homebrewhero's hometown]. I left right then and there. I stayed in the hospital for a few hours before her body arrived, but she wasn't dead, well, not biologically. Her brain was showing no signs of activity, but her heart and lungs were functioning, however with the aid of a ventilator. So, there we were, my father, sister, and a family friend looking at mom one last time. We all held her hand, and whispered our goodbyes. Then we 'pulled the plug'.

I don't know what you think happens here, but it's not immediate death. It's a slow and disgusting suffocation. I made myself watch, because I knew it would give me closure. But it was absolutely grotesque watching her body gasp for air. I knew she was dead, and we were just letting the body die, but it was absolutely horrifying.

I'm including this last part, as it's related: shortly thereafter, I went back to school, my father became an alcoholic, and my sister a drug addict. Nine years later, I have a PhD and am an infectious disease researcher doing what I love, my dad's sober, and my sister is clean and we have an excellent relationship. It took a long time to get to where we are, but I'm overall pretty happy. I hope no one ever has to experience loss like this, much less compounded greif from loved ones falling victim to drugs and alcohol.

[–]Yesthisisdog89 175 points176 points ago

I think today is shaping up to be one of the worst of my life. I have to put my dog of 16 years to sleep tomorrow, and knowing that your best friend will be gone forever in twenty four hours is a hard thing to deal with. Some of your stories are awful, and I know mine pales in comparison, but I feel pretty hopeless today.

[–]DeliBelly 41 points42 points ago

Get off Reddit, try to be with your dog. brohug

[–]msipes 676 points677 points ago*

I have 3 awful days in my life. They are all equal because of the stages in my life and how it affected me.

1. Back in '94 When I was a freshmen in high school, I went over to this house party. There were well over 50 people there for this girl's birthday. We all decided to play "hide and go get it". Basically the guys hide and the girls find the guy they want to make out with. Well the birthday girl had a thing for me and decided to take advantage. (I was pretty innocent back then and she was a sophomore). We ended up almost having sex (it was the first time I had ever seen a girl fully in lingerie let alone naked. She was definitely taking advantage of me). Well as we were about get it on, a large bang starts hitting the door. It was her army father that was about to destroy me. We frantically fell over each other trying to get our cloths on. I then fell over trying to put my pants on again. I manage to get my boxers and pants on and she decides to open the door right when I zipping my pants up! OMG The father charges at me and grabs my neck and directs me out the room to the front door. He throws me out the house in just my pants (no shoes or shirt). I have to then walk shamelessly over to the neighbors to call my father to come pick me up (pre cellphone era). Luckily the girl's mom comes out side and gets me, brings me back into the house and just shames the father. I was devastated in every way possible. To make matters worse, my father drives up in the van to pick me up.... I get in, and he gives me this stare of shame. Then he all of sudden smiles and starts laughing his ass off at me. He goes "did ya have fun?" SO EMBARRASSED!!!!! That day effected me for the rest of my life.

The girl's father later called my father up and apologized for reacting so harsh. He told my father that I was the one of the most honest teenagers he ever dealt with in a bad situation. He thought I was well raised. My father just a couple years ago told me that was one of the proudest moments of his life as a father to hear what that army sgt said over the phone about me.

2.
I'm keeping this one shorter because the first one was so long. My wife of 5 years decides to move out and separate. One day I get an anonymous letter in the mail saying that this person knew my wife was cheating on me and didn't even know she was married until a couple weeks ago. It tells me that she has been doing it for years. I immediately call her up and demand an explanation. (At this point I was going to counseling all by myself waiting for her to join me). She admits to sleeping with 2 guys in the past 6 months. I ask her about the years and she denies. At this point I don't really care whether it was 2 years or 6 months. She had no respect for me. At this point in our separation I was paying for everything because I believed I had a responsibility as a husband to take care of his wife. I truly believed that we were going to work out. This letter, while a true eye opener, was one of the hardest things I ever had to read in my life. And the reaction hearing the words coming out of the mouth of my ex-wife were gut wrenching. Eventually we get divorced. She actually has her boyfriend come and help her move out right in front of me. That's another story! smh.

*3. * The death of my father last year. I was in Atlanta for a national qualifier volleyball tournament. I fly home and get a call from my brother that my father had an EKG (or whatever) and they found a block in his heart. They rushed him to the hospital. I immediately bought a ticket and flew into Colorado to meet up. When I get there we debated the surgery and such. At this point we were very hopeful that it would be successful. By the next day we had learned he had colon cancer and the tissue had grown up into his artery into his right ventricular valve. My father was going to do the surgery. My brother and I leave to get some paperwork from the house. We come back and learned that the doctor basically tells my father there is a high probability of the cancer coming back even if he beats it. My father elects to go home and have hospice care. He wanted to live out the remaining days of his life at home. I was devastated my father didn't want to fight. My brother and mother were all arguing with each other. I yelled them out of the room to talk with my father. I rarely break into tears, but I cried like a new born baby as my father debated on why he should fight. He told me to let him go and that heaven awaits us all. I wanted so much to change his mind and make him fight. I said to him balling.."So you die on the table or you die in a bed, don't go out with a whimper, fight to end Dad"! He slowly touched my hand and told me it's okay. Don't be afraid of death, we all come to it. He was ready to meet his maker. I was so mad and upset.

But in retrospect after he had passed, I learned that he was bravest man that I have ever known. Not many could face death like that.

I am hoping that these traumatic days in my young life will shape me into a man that my father will be proud of.

Update: Me at my father's marker Ft Logan Colorado. (The day was a celebration of his life) http://imgur.com/pomfJ

[–]snookerdoodle 239 points240 points ago

Your dad already told you: he was proud of you.

[–]thinkforyourself 235 points236 points ago

Wow, the story about your dad elicited one of the first emotional responses in me that I've had in months. Keep it real dude.

[–]jjesusfreak01 102 points103 points ago*

For #3, colon cancer that had metastasized to the point that it formed a physical blockage in his arteries is not something you are going to recover from. You can cut out the cancer, but that kind of cardiac surgery is extremely dangerous, and the cancer will be back within months regardless. He made the right choice, imo. It's not something you can fight. Good post.

[–]KingToasty 45 points46 points ago

Good post, A++ would cry again.

[–]laurencetribe 94 points95 points ago

How does a man of your caliber end up with a piece of human trash like your ex-wife?

[–]lipsrednails 244 points245 points ago

Reading all of your replies makes me feel like mine is insignificant, but here goes any way.

In elementary school, the night before I had home work. I did it then showed my dad so he could correct it. It was multiple worksheets stapled together and I didn't put my name on the front and back of every sheet so my dad ripped it into pieces and threw it away. I get to school the next day and my teacher yells at me and calls me a liar because why would any parent do such a thing... Then at recess I'm jumping rope by my self, minding my own business in a corner of the yard when a wild Frisbee appeared and caught me right in the bottom lip. As my lip is bleeding and swelling I'm on my way to the nurse's office while crying when a giant wild black bee decides to sting me in the knee. This was my worst day ever.

[–]othermatt 210 points211 points ago

Wow, your Dad sounds like a major dick.

[–]anonymau5 202 points203 points ago

"Major Dick!" :Salutes:

[–]rephyr 630 points631 points ago*

This will absolutely be buried, but I don't care. I live through a break up with the same woman twice. She and I split sometime in September 2008 after being together for years. I got into a car accident in December 08 and suffered a severe concussion, leaving me with a 3-4 month gap in my memory. Part of what I lost was that breakup. I went to her house the next day to find her making out with some new guy on the couch. I was understandably both confused and upset.

Ninjaedit: Holy shit, as I was replying to another post it made me remember that I had to live through my team getting trumped in the 2008 world series twice, too. That almost hurts worse today than the loss of the relationship.

[–]vlovesf 91 points92 points ago

Talk about taking an already horrible situation and making it worse. Did you get full functionality of your memory back?

[–]free_fall 15 points16 points ago

But on the plus side, you only remember one breakup?

[–]benMerguez 29 points30 points ago*

I don't think I've ever told this story but here it goes. 30th of July 2011, I wake up, hear my dad moaning in pain like he had been doing for a week (refused to go to the hospital, like always). Nothing I could do, I take a shower, shave, go out of the shower, get dressed and realise I can't hear him anymore. The apartment is completely silent. So I walk down the hallway and see him lying on the couch, naked, one arm hanging down. He's not breathing. I freak out. It was the most horrible thing I had ever seen, and I was so disgusted. He had stains on his arms. Purple, blue, big ones. Kind of like huge bruises. I still wonder what they were.

I call 112 (Swedish 911), freaking out, not knowing what to say so I simply say "how do you know if someone's dead?". The woman replied "ask one of your friends" and hung up. I didn't know what to do, so I called up again and said "I think my dad's dead". She hung up right away. I had no credit on my phone and there was no one I could call. I was terrified of going into the living room where my dad layed dead (yes I know, it's very ironic). I went on a forum and asked for help but everyone just said I was a troll and no one believed me, so there was really no one I could talk to. No one who could tell me what to do. After maybe ten minutes, maybe fifteen (it's hard to know how long since... well I wasn't really myself and lost track of time) minutes I call 112 again and had to say "please don't hang up" before she would even hear what I had to say (same lady).

I explain the situation but instead of telling me she's sending someone she just says go touch his throat to see if there's a pulse. This might sound easy but god it was so horrible. Touching one's dead father. Fuck. Crying I tell her I can't (though I did touch quickly but as soon as my fingers touched his skin I had this reflex to pull my arm back and back away).

She tried convincing me to do it again (holy fuck I'm reliving all of this, I can even remember what it felt like) and I have to explain to that stupid bitch it's not easy touching a corpse. I think my exact (translated) words were something like "please, you don't understand, it's my dad" ("snälla, du förstår inte, det e min pappa").

Now she sent someone. I went n opened the door for the firemen who showed up (apparently they usually show up first) and I had tears in my eyes but tried not to cry and be a man and the first fireman who entered (Peter, great guy) put his huge fireman hand on my shoulder and for a splitsecond I kinda felt better. God I'm almost crying by now.

I lead them to the appartement and some more people showed up, cops and ambulance personel, Peter brought my my dad's cigarettes from the livingroom and I was chain smoking while I heard that sounds from the CPR or whatever it was (sounded like my dad was gagging). Ew. Was horrible.

Worst part is I was all alone for such a long time. And my mom, my brothers, my sister, no one answered when I called them. I was so alone. I still feel alone since I'll never see my dad again (I lived alone with him). Now I'm all alone in my room. I'm crying. Fuck. I'm happy I wrote this stuff though. Sorry for typos or spelling mistakes.

Edit: 2011, not 2012. Fixed it.

[–]miscsubbin 286 points287 points ago*

I just posted this in another thread, but I'll also share here. May not be the worst, but here's one story.

My whole life is an embarrassment. I'll start with one story and if I can remember some others I'll edit them in.

So I don't have a lot of friends. In fact, I have made no new friends after entering college. One day however, my roommate invites me to come over to his friends dorm to hang out with some people.

Now this is a big deal for me, I usually don't get to hang out with people, and I knew that if I played my cards right, I would maybe make some friends.

So we go over there and I do fairly well (my social skills usually leave a lot to be desired). There are only like 5 people there and I'm able to hold a conversation for most of the time.

Then they decide to go out to eat with other people. At this point I'm pretty much at my limit of people I can deal with. Any more than ~5 and I have no idea how to react to situations. I freeze like a deer in the headlights, and no matter how hard I try, I can't speak to anyone.

This is exactly what happens. I feel horrible that I can't say anything, but I stay anyway because I can't just randomly leave a meal.

So as I'm eating my meal something goes wrong (as if it wasn't bad enough already). I swallow a bite too fast and it gets lodged in my throat. I try to keep it cool hoping no done will notice before I get it down. I try drinking something, but that gets stuck there too. Now there's food with a layer of iced tea on top of it trapped in my esophagus.

At this point its quite noticeable to everyone that something is wrong. Soon after everyone has their eyes on me, I cough up what was in my throat; appearing to vomit right onto my plate. I explain what happened, but that didn't change the fact that I was pretty much silent the while time, then threw up in front of everyone.

I finished the food that I didn't hit with the food that was once on the plate, and left later.

Good times.

EDIT: You can also tell that I'm not that old if this was the worst day of my life.

[–]trogdorkiller[S] 255 points256 points ago

On a completely serious note, if your life is filled with situations like these, write them down and sell a book. Make a character up or just write a.memoir, that shit will sell.

[–]newloaf 214 points215 points ago

And call it 'a.memoir'. Very 2.0.

[–]burlybison 112 points113 points ago

i played that entire story out in my head and it was amazing. I want be your friend so we can just throw up everywhere together.

[–]Baseplate 659 points660 points ago

March 4th 2002 my 22nd birthday. Afgahnistan
I do everything I can to not think about it http://imgur.com/cjEI5

[–]Grimmjow459 94 points95 points ago

as short as yours is, I think its had the most impact on me... I'm sorry. Stay strong my friend

[–]ogcm 11 points12 points ago

Not to be rude and pry, but care to share the backstory?

Edit: I mean, I understand the picture. But what happened?

[–][deleted] ago

[deleted]

[–]ogcm 22 points23 points ago

Shit

[–]mdaily215 335 points336 points ago

walked out of high school to find my car was broken into. They stole everything; cd's, radio, books, anything they could sell. I wipe off my seat and sit down in the driver's seat and my ex-girlfriend calls me. She tells me she is pregnant! She then decided to call my dad and tell him about her new pregnancy also.

Very very bad day

[–]trogdorkiller[S] 98 points99 points ago

Do you still get to see the kid?

[–]mdaily215 309 points310 points ago

turns out it wasn't mine and she had an abortion so ...

[–]flash84x 192 points193 points ago

Was it your dad's?

[–]zackeller 441 points442 points ago

That must've been the best day of your life.

[–][deleted] 98 points99 points ago

I know right? What a relief after a terrible day.

[–]Unicornmayo 163 points164 points ago

The night I discovered my ex-wife was having an affair. The night will be permanently etched into my mind. Hardly a day goes by (a year and a bit later) where I don't think about her.

What's worse, is that day still bothers me, it's almost like I'm living it over and over.

[–]newloaf 68 points69 points ago

I was 8 years old and living with my mom, a part-time alcoholic and drug user (heroin). I remember her getting drunk with her friend and begging her friend to stay over night so she wouldn't get into her schtick when we were alone together. She liked to frighten me by making awful voices, and one night in particular I remember gathering up all the utensils from the drawers because she threatened to kill herself with a knife because I didn't love her enough. Also at one point I was looking in the front of the phonebook to see if I could find the police number. This was pre-911.

[–]PabstyLoudmouth 879 points880 points ago

So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life. -Peter Gibbons

[–]_ankh 264 points265 points ago

What about today? Is today the worst day of your life?

[–]thesilverecluse 275 points276 points ago

Yea.

[–]thesilverecluse 311 points312 points ago

Wow, that's messed up. (I had to post it, the suspense was killing me.)

[–]Talran 38 points39 points ago

Look, is there any way you can just, you know, conk me out, and have me think I haven't been at work all day? (I do the same thing he did, just without TPS reports)

[–]jeepbraah 62 points63 points ago

You're excused.

[–]thinkforyourself 70 points71 points ago

I've always thought about this quote. Technically, wouldn't that also make it the best day of the rest of your life too?

[–]ScienceParty 76 points77 points ago

Yeah but that sounds even sadder when you consider the best day for the rest of your life is the worst day of your life so far

[–]frankenboobehs 171 points172 points ago*

I skipped school. My mom was in the hospital with lung cancer, supposed to come home that day. My uncle came and picked me up, drove me to the hospital. We arrived there, entire family was standing around. We went into the room to see her, she was hooked up on machines and not awake, her heart rate was geting slower and slower. I had my dad rub a wet cloth on her lips because they were so dry. My mom died that day.

Edited, srry for the accidental hillarity on my sad post

[–]lambchops0 22 points23 points ago*

One night about 3 years ago my mother died by drinking herself to death. That night she had been completely fine and then after me being out for 3 hours she was drunk when I got home and accused me of driving drunk and i denied it as it was not something I would have done. She then stared at me for about 2 minutes and then went up to bed and left her bedroom light on. I went up to bed later and noticed that she was sitting on her bed and i thought she was getting ready to sleep. I got into bed and noticed her light never went off and I spent the whole night looking at the light under my door til my dad got up (he had to get up early so he slept in the spare room) and next thing I hear is moms name? Jesus Jesus Jesus. She was long gone at that point and I am convinced she may have been when I saw her last coz I cant remember is she moved or not when i saw her. My boyfriend at the time was a dick about it as well coz he had never met my dad, he came to the house at 10Pm and then ran down the street when my dad came to the door.

Last conversation with my mom was a fight :(

[–]typhonblue 22 points23 points ago*

Take a look at these resources:

Development of sexually abusive behaviour in sexually victimised males: a longitudinal study

and Risk factors for development of sexually abusive behaviour in sexually victimised adolescent boys: cross sectional study

Just a quick summary: Only about 10% of men sexually abused as boys went on to abuse others.

The risk factors for a sexually abused boy becoming an abuser are:

  • Abuse by a female
  • Exposure to persistent violence in the family
  • Lack of adult oversight

I hope this helps you feel better about your situation!

[–]barbiemadebadly 21 points22 points ago

I was 15 years old; a couple friends who I wasn't particularly close with took me to this party. I didn't drive and I sat in the backseat of the car talking to a girl that was with us, so I wasn't paying attention to where we were going. I remember being on the interstate for what felt like a while, maybe 30 minutes or so.

I didn't drink a whole lot at this party but I did have a few beers, maybe 3 or 4; I was a little buzzed but not drunk, but I had a headache and I wanted to go home, so I tried to find my friends to see if they were ready to go. I couldn't find them anywhere and I started to get nervous that they had left me. A guy came up to me and said he'd help me look for them, he thought he saw one of the girls out back smoking so I followed him. Every time I went out to smoke throughout the night, I went out front, and the party was pretty confined to the kitchen and living room, so I didn't know where the back door was. I followed him into a dark room that looked like it at one time led outside, like a converted carport or something, but it now had a pool table and a couple windows. I told him I thought he was wrong because there was no way outside through here, and before I knew it, I was the dumb girl I'm always getting pissed at on tv, because I turned around to leave and he'd locked the door behind us and was blocking the door with his ridiculously large body, and my 16 year old 5'3" self didn't seem to stand much chance.

But I still tried. I tried to get around him once, he laughed and pushed me back lightly. I came at him again and he slapped me across the face so hard I fell to the floor. I remember thinking I couldn't give up, I was not going to be a victim, I had to try. He had started moving away from the door and closer to me, just a little but I thought I could squeeze past him if I was fast enough. I came at him a third time and he grabbed me by the throat and threw me across the room into a wall. My entire body felt broken. But I tried to push myself to get up and crawl away. It was still dark in the room so I figured if I'm quiet enough, maybe I could get out. I was wrong.

As I was crawling, he came up from behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me off the floor and slammed me onto the pool table, on top of the pool balls, which hurt like nothing else, not even being thrown across a room. He grabbed a pool ball and shoved it in my mouth so I would stop screaming (I had only JUST thought to scream for help, because apparently I'm a moron). Then he proceeded to have his way with me, all while I'm biting down on a pool ball and kicking and punching. I finally managed to kick him in the nuts and he dropped to the floor, but he was closer to the door and I was afraid he would grab me if I went for it. So I took the pool ball out of my mouth and threw it at one of the windows, thinking I could break the glass and then kick the rest out. I managed to do this, but before I could climb out the window, the guy came up behind me and threw me out, and I landed on tiny bits of broken glass. I was cut up from head to toe.

I was so scared that it didn't occur to me to go out back and tell someone else at the party. I just ran. I could hear the cars on the highway pretty close by, so I ran that way. A car finally picked me up. I was so scared to get in a car with a stranger but I didn't know what else to do. At this point I didn't trust anyone but the lady in the car seemed nice enough. But I still didn't want her to know where I lived and I wouldn't let her take me to a hospital so I had her drop me off at an unknown house. I walked up to the front door thinking I would just sit on the porch and catch my breath for a minute and then try to figure out where I was. I ended up falling asleep on the porch of a stranger's house.

Morning came, the "man of the house" came to the door to get the paper, saw me and flipped out and started screaming. But he only saw that I was dirty and had torn clothes, not all my cuts, and he thought I was a homeless person looking for shelter. Terrified by any and all men at that moment, I immediately jumped up and tried to run but I was so sore and tired and frightened I just fell backwards. He saw my face and all my cuts and blood and saw where exactly my clothes were torn and his face fell. He knew exactly what had happened. He looked like he was going to cry. He apologized a thousand times and tried to get me to come in but I just kept sliding myself backwards on the ground. He yelled for his wife and then he whispered something to her right as she came to the door. She immediately came and helped me up and said it was ok, I was going to be ok now, and asked if they could help me get cleaned up. I was extremely hesitant, and it took the wife and their eldest daughter to convince me that no one would hurt me. I was too tired at that point to keep fighting so I let them take me in their house.

The wife helped me take a shower, with a bra and panties still on so that I wouldn't feel uncomfortable. She took most of the glass out of my cuts and gently tried to wash out the rest. She cleaned up and bandaged the biggest wounds and gave me some of her daughter's clothes to wear. After I was dressed her husband made me breakfast but all I could eat was one egg before I thought I would be sick so I slowly sipped some orange juice. Then they offered to take me to/call the police or hospital or call someone for me. I said I just wanted to go home so they took me there.

To this day I cannot remember where the party was or where this amazing family lived. I never got a good look at my attacker's face. And I was so horrified, depressed and angry, that I never told a single person ever, until a few nights ago when I finally told my husband. I don't even remember how it came up but I felt a lot better after I told him. He was infuriated; not with me, obviously, but that something so horrible happened to the woman he loves and that he couldn't do anything about it.

I will never forget that dreadful night. I have relived it many times thinking I should've screamed sooner, louder, been stronger, faster, or just not been so trusting and naive to begin with. But I will also never forget the loving, caring, and simply wonderful family who helped me without asking any questions other than what size clothes I wore and if I needed to call someone. As angry as I am about the man at the party, and as horrible as people are, I also take away from that night that there are some amazing and genuinely good people out there. I just hope they know how wonderful they are.

[–][deleted] 74 points75 points ago

TL;DR: When I was 20, I was raped by someone having a manic episode.

I was hanging out with a friend- we went to an art museum, Taco Bell, scored some trees, smoked, watched a movie, etc. We'd had sex in the past, but we'd talked about it and decided that it was the past, we no longer wanted things to be awkward, and were friends again.

After watching the movie (The Fountain), he begins to talk about how all of our friends were reincarnations of Greek Gods and Goddesses. I went home because I had homework to do.

At 3am, he comes to my dorm, wakes up my roommates, and tells me that he needs someone. Being a good friend, I go with him to his house, figuring I'll let him talk, make sure he gets to bed, crash on a couch, and go home before class. Well, when we get to his house, we smoke a little, he tells me all about the Greek Gods and Goddesses that each of our friends exhibit, and he ends by telling me that I'm Hera and he's Zeus and we have to destroy the world and recreate it to save everyone. When I'm high, I have like zero mental processes going on. The whole time, I was just sitting perfectly still thinking, "...wat."

Then he proceeds to push me onto his bed and take off my clothes, despite me telling him not to. My brain and body were having a total disconnect. I couldn't get my body to move. I was protesting him every step of the way vocally, but I couldn't move my body. I was in such shock.

I eventually got home, went to class, tried to forget what happened, tried to comfort my roommate who was having a panic attack, went to some group project meeting and when I got home, the guy who raped me was on my damn futon. He pulled me out the door with him while I was trying to fight against this. Loads of people walked past and didn't do anything. He pushed me into his car and threatened to kill me if I got out. He told me we were going to save the world.

All that happened was we drove down a road that cars aren't supposed to go on (a bus/emergency vehicle shortcut) and listened to dubstep. He took me back to his house, where I promptly left. I luckily caught a bus immediately, but he followed me back to my dorm. He began to sob and then took off wandering around the dorm. He ended up in my friend's room, wanting to tell them about "what is wrong with [afailsafeoption]". He ended up pulling down his pants and telling my friends to suck him off. My ex-boyfriend (who I'd broken up with just days earlier and was still sad) came into that room at the exact moment and ended up tackling him and yelling at him to get out of the building.

My friends called the police, he was detained in the lobby of the dorm where he was screaming at me, telling me I was evil and Satan and a 'mean witch' and that I was going to destroy the world.

He ended up with a 12-hour stay in the psychiatric crisis center, put my name down as an emergency contact, so the county hospital kept calling me at 4am to 'give me updates'.

I missed two classes the next day because I didn't go to sleep until 5am and had to do so by locking my door, sleeping in my roommate's bed, and taking benadryl to knock myself out.

Honestly, I don't know what happened to him in a legal sense. I just really fucking hope he got help. He spent the next week alternating between calling me telling me he loved me and calling me telling me he was going to kill me. I had escorts walk me around campus until he left me alone.

I've seen him twice since, because my housemate is still friends with him- once at a party that my housemate had, and he was at my house once when my mom and brother came to visit. My brother was ready to curbstomp his face in.

[–]jimonih 1181 points1182 points ago*

This will get washed away at the bottom but it's by far the worst two days of my life, and I still to this day suffer from them. I pulled a muscle in my back and was staying home sick from work. While at home my dad calls to say my (soon to be ex)wife sent a harassing email to my sister; He forwarded it on to me. After reading it, I talk to my wife and she becomes confrontational about it. She then starts hitting me and telling me I have no right to tell her to not be mean to my sister because I am fucking worthless. A struggle ensues, with her sexually assaulting me by grabbing my balls and pulling down on them as best she could, assaulting me with punches, kicks, slaps, and biting, as well as screaming she is going to slit my throat as soon as she gets a knife from the kitchen. Finally get the police out there and she has no marks on her body, meanwhile I am bloody, and have to plead my case in order to not be taken to jail. She eventually goes to jail for the night, and gets out the next day just in time to drain my entire bank account.... this is just the beginning. If more people want to know I will.

TL;DR My crazy soon to be ex wife assaulted me and threatened to kill me, drained my bank account, and soooo much more

edit: heres the update http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/ovh3u/as_requested_more_on_my_story_of_my_assaulting_ex/

[–]klapperstrauss 278 points279 points ago

Upvote for more. Not that I specifically like to read of people's suffering, it's just astonishing what can happen to you sometimes.

[–]smithincanton 137 points138 points ago*

I have had similar experiences with an ex-wife but with two kids. It's sad when you search for "abused husband" and all you'll find is help for "husband abusing"

Edit: A little more back story. We dated for a while, we got pregnant, married, pregnant again, 3 years later it got so bad we separated. After separation she took me to the cleaners. $14k bank account, gone. All the while living in my house while I live with my parents. Almost 2 years after we separated divorced, finely! I have the kids. I told her from day ONE that I was not going to be a "weekend dad." She told me she didn't want them anyway.

[–]jjesusfreak01 203 points204 points ago

Kids, this is why you drain the bank account first.

[–]johninbigd 12 points13 points ago

I worked in banking for several years. You wouldn't believe the number of times I've seen couples practically race to get to joint account first. What often happened is that I would be aware of one of them, and then later I'd see the other one show up and have to explain to them what happened. It was pretty sad, but it happened regularly.

[–]Accepted_Challenge 43 points44 points ago

Please continue your story. I would like to read the rest of it.

[–]will60137 19 points20 points ago

More please

[–]SheepyTurtle 349 points350 points ago

In 9th grade after MLK day, just by a couple of days I was stopped in the hallway by one of my friends.

"I'm so sorry," she said. I was a bit confused, so I asked, "Why, what's up?"

And that's the day I found out that I didn't believe in god anymore. One of my best friends ever, who had fought so valiantly against, and had essentially beat lymphocytic leukemia, had died.

And not from any bullshit "hey bro, you thought your body was rid of your cancer, jk lol" bullshit.

He died from West Nile Virus. A fucking bug bit him, infected him with a disease that went straight for his brain and put him in a coma for god knows how long.

He hadn't been able to go to school in about two years, so seeing him at school on the first day was a present. Nobody told us why he stopped coming to school until he had passed away.

It took the doctors over a week to determine that he didn't have encephalitis, but rather West Nile Virus. He was one of the people in the 1% (at the time) who experienced the worst of the symptoms.

I will never forget nor learn to love January 19th ever again. I will not smile on that day, and I won't put on a fake mask of happiness. 8 years have passed. I wanted us to drink together, I wanted to be one of the first people who smoked him up, should he have wanted to. I wanted my friend to have another shot at life.

And it was ripped away from him.

By a fucking bug.

[–]Dishonest_Abe 39 points40 points ago

Today. Girlfriend flies around the country to do photo shoots for jean companies and what not. Ill go with her sometime, like last week andv this ive been in san diego. While shes working, ill do the tourist thing. Im a very trusting guy, i had never went through her phone or email. That changed this morning when i got curious, went through her sent folder as inbox was clean. Apparently the whore had been hooking up with guys in these cities and doing porn shoots for websites. So here i am sitting in san diego fixing to board a flight home to the east coast. Today sucks

[–]kinglopez 17 points18 points ago

Freshman year of highschool. Friday night hanging out with my friends skating. End of the night we split up. Saturday I hang out at home and talk to no one except some bs chats on aim (yes way back then). One of of buddies who I was chatting with wanted to hang out on saturday night but I was being lazy and said I wanted to stay home. He asked if I wanted to get breakfast at mcdonalds on sunday morning (It was in skating distance of our house). I said ok. Next morning skate over to his house. There is an fire truck, ambulance, and cops at the his house. I am not allowed in or near the scene but I am told that a 14 year old boy was found dead in his room. He committed suicide the night I was chatting with him. I wonder if I would have hung out with him if it would have been different.

[–]TheMostAwesomeGF 16 points17 points ago

Don't look at my bad english, I just have to write this down. When I was 8 years old, my two (and only, let's call them Jane and Andrea) best friends went for a mountainhike without their parents permission. It had rained earlier that day, so it was really slippery. On their way to the top, Jane slipped. The police said she fell about 60 metres. Andrea try to grab her (i've heard the story from her), and slipped. Jane had went into a coma when the parademics found her, and died in the helicopter. Andrea was saved when her shoe got stuck in a bush. She got a major cut in her forhead, and still has a scar. When you are 8 years old and your friends get into an accident, the worst thing you think that can happen, is that someone broke something. You never think that they can die. When my mom got a call from a another parent that Jane was dead, I could not believe it. I was so glad that Andrea was still alive, but i kept denying that Jane was dead. I thought that was the worst day of my life, but the memorial was the worst. A couple of days later, at school, everybody in our class made a drawing that would be lying in the chest when she was buried. I wanted to give her something so that she could remeber me when she got to heaven. I had this silver-ring that I got at the dentist, and I attached it to the drawing. The sound of her sister crying over her dead body is something I'll never forget. After the priest had said some stuff i didn't pay attention to, we were allowed to take our last good-byes. I was the first to walk up to the open chest, and she looked so peaceful. That's when I saw that my ring was on her finger. I looked up on her mother, and she smiled and said thankyou. The only thing I can remember from the funeral, is a heart-shaped rosebouqet that stood by the altar. And the mother's sore cry when they buried her.

I had nightmares every night until I was 11, and I'm always worried that people I love will die. On the 19th march it's 10 years ago she died, and I still cry at her grave

[–]Veora 119 points120 points ago

So, my father went to speak to me, told me that my grandmother had died, i later got home to find, my fiance (i forget what the female version of that word is spelt exactly, so please excuse me) at the time (whom was my first real relationship i've had) decided that day was a wonderfull day to break everything off. It's been 3 years and im slowly trying to piece stuff togther.

[–]ThrowAwayBigSurprise 176 points177 points ago*

Short Version:

Dated a girl online for close to a year. Sent me hundreds of pics via her FB page, photography blog, texts (etc etc) of her as a really cute blonde. "this is me with my nephew, isnt she cute!" etc etc. Dodges my requests for us to meet for 1 year. Argue with/lose friends about her "she's not coming man" "yes she is, she wouldn't lie to me". Finally visits, she weighs about 270lbs and had stolen literally hundreds of pictures of a random girls Tumblr she never knew. Lied to me about who she was and sat by/did nothing (she was present via an Xbox Live mic for all conversations with my IRL buds) as I got into arguments with my friends about her not ever visiting, etc. She watched as my friendships crumbled, and did nothing to intervene or come clean about her lie before things got worse.

This was about 2 years ago. I still feel like the worlds biggest idiot. Fuck.

[–]bassticle 80 points81 points ago

You should watch the film "Catfish."

[–]Mysticcal 46 points47 points ago

always skype man. ALWAYS.

[–]yamancool63 295 points296 points ago*

Brother offed himself in the middle of the night, didn't know until noon when I got signed out of school. That was over 4 years ago.

*This karma feels fucking disgusting.

[–]wherestheoption 87 points88 points ago

Sister offed herself last year right before the holidays. Mother is stressed every day

[–]yamancool63 16 points17 points ago

My condolences, it can certainly be difficult at times most of the time. Stick together, it really helps. And don't feel afraid to laugh.

[–]CaptainMcThrowaway 56 points57 points ago

Long story short, I was wildly depressed. Suicidal and self-mutilating (both of which seemed completely normal at the time). I had exactly one friend, a girl whom we can call Sarah (I'm a dude), for whom I inevitably developed feelings. I told her so, and she said it was a mutual thing, and we did that for a while, but it was always kinda strange. One day, I noticed I had a voicemail from a strange number... I listened to it. It was from Sarah's friend. She told me to leave Sarah alone because she was sick of hearing Sarah complain about me. So I asked Sarah what was up... and got a text back from the same friend, telling me to leave her alone, that Sarah never liked me in the first place... not even as a friend. She said that Sarah had only ever talked to me because she felt bad for me. She told me that Sarah said that kissing me made her want to vomit, and she told this to anyone who would listen.

All this from the only person I had left, during what was already the worst time of my life. I was wrecked.

Anyway, that was a few years ago. I'm better now.

[–]Parker2010 16 points17 points ago

Did you ever get confirmation on this from 'Sarah'? So many times here I've read stories from crazy friends who sabotage relationships.

[–]marhar_newaccount 16 points17 points ago

I was 24 and living with my sister in the house we grew up in -- our mother had died, Dad remarried and lived elsewhere but still had the house for a while and we were able to live there for utilities for a bit.

That changed pretty quickly. My ex was visiting for the first time I had seen her in a long time, just spur of the moment drove down to see me as things were stressing her out too much where she was living. My sister's boyfriend was over too, and it was a pretty average night of watching movies and talking or whatever. We were getting ready to go out to grab breakfast, meet up with a friend.

Then I heard a loud bang sound like a large shelf getting knocked over or something. I walked out into the hall to see what it was, and a man with a gun and a mask rounded the corner, fired two rounds in the air and then hit me as hard as he could with the butt of the gun, making my vision flash and causing everything to go a bit woozy. Another man was behind him, in a ghetto ski-mask of a carefully wrapped-around-head t-shirt. One was a tall large extremely muscular black guy, the other a kind of skinnier, shorter black guy. Both had guns.

The first grabbed me by the collar and hurled me into the room, then took the clip out of his gun to show me it was loaded, for some reason. They were yelling and carrying out to give us all our money, right away.

My sister's boyfriend came piling out of the room and got repeatedly pistol whipped. They came back round to me and did the same, just repeatedly hitting us. Lots of blood, but we both managed to stay calm and at least seemingly coherent. I guess it was shock.

They were pissed that we didn't have much cash and said we must be lying because white people have a shit load more money then that, and complained that he worked as an air conditioner repairman for 8$ an hour. I commented that I worked as a barista for 6$ an hour and that earned me some more beating. They seemed kind of confused as to what to do. Finally they told us to take off all our clothes and toss them to them.

We stripped down to our underwear and tossed the jeans/shirts to the guy, and when they noticed the delay in removing our underwear I got hit some more. I know I couldn't have bled that much because I'd stay conscious for a long time but it seemed like there was already blood all over the place.

We took the rest of our clothes off and that's when they basically segued into raping my ex and my sister. They shoved the gun barrel inside of them and told them they would pull the trigger. The main guy had both of the women fellate him with a gun to their heads, even though he didn't seem to be able to get an erection, and what was kind of hilarious is he apologized for being unable to, saying things were just a little too tense. He then ordered me on the bed and her her blow me, while he told my sister's boyfriend to fuck her in the ass or he would slice his dick off. He complied best he could, luckily they gave up after a while. Overall when we remember that shit we aren't embarassed or anything at all -- it seemed completely non-sexual at the time, just basically attempting not to be killed.

I'm not sure exactly on the exact next string of events. There was something that pissed them off -- he said that we were all definitely republicans because we were white, and I said I was a democrat, and he pointed the gun at everybody and asked them their political party. (I mean, the gun was always pointed at somebody. He popped off a round now and again just to keep everybody good and terrified. They had lots of ballistic information at the crime scene.)

When everyone said they were democrat that pissed them off a lot. My sister's boyfriend and I got hit more. I remember getting more and more dazed, and he started asking me which I would prefer, getting punched or hit with the gun. I commented I didn't really know which I would prefer. He said he'd just shoot me instead. I said, well, then I'll take the fist. He was incredulous, saying he could do a lot more damage with the fist that I might think. I said, okay, fine, gun then, and he whacked me again really good with the thing. I remember that one specifically because of the way blood arched away from it.

Then he had us put on our clothes, and start loading everything in the house into our cars. My ex's car and my sister's car. Just loaded it up with as much junk as they could. They broke my sister's boyfriend's nose in like three more places complaining with how slow he was being. Then they said they still hadn't had enough shit from us, and that we were going for a ride.

Home invader #2 and my ex got in her car. She couldn't really fucking drive, because the guy had broken her glasses the first time he hit her. I remember walking to the car and being so terrified at the thought of being seperated from her as they shoved us in. My ex also didn't have the right keys and told home invader #2. Home Invader #1 said, 'Kill her.' I flipped out and jumped up and said I could get the keys, I know where they are, give me a moment. He said fine and ran back inside, but shot at my feet for some reason on my way there. It didn't hit but it scared the fuck out of me. My sister thought he had shot me in the head because she couldn't see me (I got inside) and started breaking down even further.

I ran in and got the keys, and quickly ran back out -- the phones were all destroyed already, one of the first things they did. I gave the keys to home invader #2 and they got the car started, ours was ready to go. We went to the ATMs. I got in the front seat, with the guy behind me. He punched the back of my head with the gun again and that's when I really started to feel completely out of it. But then he mock-executed me, telling my sister he was about to kill me and counting down and then firing into the dash in front of me. (cont.)

[–]Lokarn 29 points30 points ago*

  • I got up one day with a terrible urge to take a shit, but because I was already late to catch the train to work I decided to ignore the pain and get on my way. I arrived at the train station, got inside the train (which had a WC) and decided to take a seat inside an extremely crowded wagon, I knew that the train had a WC but I'm that kind of person that needs 30 minutes to take a shit and the trip only lasted 20 minutes, so I decided to try my luck and see if I could hold all that shit inside my.

While sitting near 3 other people inside the train, the pain came again, it came so quickly and strongly that I had to use super-human concentration in order to block all that shit from coming out, when this happened I was sweating like a pig and everyone sitting near me was whispering and commenting the fact that I had this expression of extreme pain and was sweating like hell, an old lady even asked if something was wrong but I didn't answer because I had to concentrate all my thoughts to block my asshole from exploding. The pain went away again but returned with such an intensity that I thought my body was about to burst. With that horrible pain I stood up grunting and I shit you not, everyone in that fucking wagon looked at me with weird looks, after 2 minutes I arrived at the train station, started running, went inside a bus and prayed that nobody would sit near me. The journey continued with more grunting and sweating while I arrived at my work place, as I was going outside the bus, the pain came back and I was unable to concentrate myself and shat my pants in front of 3 co-workers. I had to call my dad to pick me up and called my boss to give me a day off...

  • Oh and I also had a shit for 850 dollars:

I had an appendicitis and had surgery to remove my appendix, after 2 days in the hospital I went home, during that whole week I had no bowl movements so I decided to take tons of laxative and wait to see what happened. While I was sleeping I had massive colics, I woke up sweating and pale as a corpse, I thought that my appendix stitches had burst because I had such massive pain in that region, I woke up my girlfriend, ran to my parents, opened the door and yelled "DAD, I'M ABOUT TO DIE", my father said that he almost shit his pants because I was so pale and scared that he decided to call an ambulance. They took me to the hospital, had an x-ray and saw that I was full of shit, and that the only method was more laxative and going to the toilet. I then spent the whole night shitting in the hospital, and a few weeks later I received a bill of about 850 dollars because I called for an ambulance instead of someone driving me there. This was the most expensive shit I ever took.

[–]haxmire 15 points16 points ago

Woke up to a normal day on April 27th, 2011 and knew storms were going to get bad and there was a great chance of tornadoes that day. I am a weather geek so I always pay attention. Well about 4:30pm that day myself and my roommates were watching the TV and there was a serious indication on the radar that there was a tornado coming towards town. We were waiting and we couldn't see it yet on the webcam but I knew it was there. We decided to get into my closet and not a few minutes later we heard the tornado coming. The sound was undeniably the most intense thing I have ever heard. Soon the power went out and the pressure change was insane. The house started to shake and I still didn't think it would get as bad as it did. Ended up the house broke apart into a million pieces and myself and my roommates and our dogs went with it. After about 5-10 seconds of being awake in the tornado I blacked out. Woke up on my back 50 yards from the house. My roommates were close by, injured, but alive same as myself but our dogs and my roommate's girlfriend were no where to be found. Sadly they did not make it.

I honestly could write a book about that day from the moment I woke up to finally going to sleep about 20 hours after I got up.

[–]kanjobanjo17 30 points31 points ago

The worst day of my life was today.

I woke up to go to school, showered, ate some oatmeal, and got in the car with my step brother, like I always do. Everything was going normally, no big deal. I make it through 1st and 2nd periods without any issues. Then, at the beginning of 3rd period, I was called down to the office to check out.

I figured I had a dentist appointment for my braces, so I ran along, happy that I was going to miss school. I arrive at the office and I see my mom speaking with a police officer. At this point, I'm a little freaked out. My mom is crying. She tells me something is wrong with my 15 year old cousin, we'll call him Bob.

We walk towards the door and my mom stops, then tells me that this morning Bob shot himself in the head. She said that he and his sister woke up, he took a shower, waited for his sister to start the water, lied down under his covers, and shot himself directly in the temple. Later when his sister got out of the shower, she found him.

This just happened today. I'm still really shocked and no one in my family has any idea of what's going on, but he's dead.

TL;DR: Went to school today (Jan. 23, '12), my mom came to get me and told me my cousin shot himself in the head. His sister found him under the covers.

I can't stop crying.

[–]space_monster 38 points39 points ago

I knew I should've stayed the fuck away from this thread

[–]ventricles 55 points56 points ago*

Definitely not the worst thing that happened to me, but the most concentrated into a day/best story:

So last Christmas I managed to get Whooping Cough, which, all things considered, isn't that bad. You feel fine until you start having coughing fits that get so bad you can barely breathe, and it lasts for 2 months. I was home for Christmas during that time and also got a sinus infection. The day before I'm on a redeye back to New York, I start getting the most intense pain in my side. I had cracked my ribs from all of the coughing. So I get on my 6-hour flight and I'm just miserable: terrible coughing, terrible sinuses, and every time I cough, sneeze or move my body feels like it's exploding. My dad gave me some sleeping pills, and I never take pills because my body doesn't react well but I decide to take these. Basically I end up feeling like I'm on serious drugs and having a panic attack in my seat the entire flight. I have a lot of anxiety about not being in control of my body and spent hours writing emails to my mom and my friends telling them how scared I was because it was the only thing I could think to do. Everyone on the plane could tell that I was losing it.

Finally we get back to New York, and I haven't slept at all, AND I have to move in to my apartment that day. I had just broken up with boyfriend of 3 years and this was my first place on my own, but part of our 'divorce' was that he had to help me move. So I was sick, injured, and exhausted and he basically had to do everything, after we had just broken up. I kept trying to help because I felt bad but I literally could not lift anything. It took him all day to get everything up to my apartment. At the end, he just cleared enough room in the floor to lay down my mattress and I didn't move for 3 days.

Epilogue: The rib took another 6 weeks to heal. And my ex and I are still really good friends.

TL;DR: whooping cough, cracked rib, bad drug interaction and moving into a walk-up. All in one fun day!

[–]dysxqer 68 points69 points ago

Definitely sounds like the best kind of ex there.

[–]Zaluman 26 points27 points ago*

Short version: 4 hottest girls in middle school (8th grade) conspired to publicly humiliate me by trying to get me to ask one of them to the end of year dance and then wrecking me in front of the school. I found out about it, to this day I still have problems trusting good intentions of others, especially women's attraction towards me.

I'll give the more detailed version if people actually want to know.

EDIT: Wow, ok. Here's the details. Looking back at it is seems like such a small event, but definitely screwed me up big time.

Ok, so the gist of it was when I was in 8th grade, I was 12 at the time (born late, so in terms of age I was always younger than the overwhelming majority of my class) I was extremely introverted and basically kept to myself, save for like 3 friends. I kept quiet, didn't make too much of a fuss, just kind of sat back and went through school, doing my own thing. I was one of the overweight kids in school, so not exactly a "pick of the litter" ;)

About a month before our 8th grade dance, these 4 girls started acting extremely strange. It was as if they had switched into a whole other person; getting overly friendly, things like that. I was extremely skeptical and about a week before the dance I still didn't ask one of them, pretty much because I had seen it for what it was. I was able to confront one of them and she told me that they had decided to have a contest to see who I would ask to the dance, and then blow it up in my face. My suspiscions confirmed, they went back to their normal ways.

I've since forgiven them in my head because people can be really petty and crappy during those years, but it has left a mental mark on me that makes me completely disbelieve a woman's attraction towards me. I have a hard time seeing past asking "What are you trying to get out of me?" and convincing myself there isn't an ulterior motive.

Becoming cynical and jaded like that when all of our collective hormones were raging sucks ass.

Thank you for reading.