Hey, what's up guys?

And welcome back to another confessions video.

And today will be a little bit different.

We'll be doing some disturbing anonymous confessions where I read your guys submitted confessions and like the title says, completely anonymous.

If you would like to send in your confession, send it to this e-mail on screen here, please.

Nothing illegal or, you know, downright just heinous, but I thought this was a cool and unique video idea where I can, you know, help you guys get some things off your chest.

And obviously, all of your submissions will be in a video for everyone to watch.

So it will be public.

It will be anonymous, though.

So, yeah, send in your stories.

I'd love to hear your confessions and just stories.

Yeah, I think this could be a cool new series.

If you'd like to see more, please comment down below and leave your thoughts on this new series.

Thank you so much for stopping by.

Please like and subscribe to the channel.

Channels closed 500,000 subscribers, so please subscribe.

And all right, without further ado, let's get into some disturbing anonymous confessions.

I think my dad tried to set up my mom and aunt.

First off, I just want to say I love your videos more than anything.

My wife and I listen to every story, even the ones on Snook.

Plus I don't usually write in long paragraphs so sorry if this is a little rough.

This is something I've been holding on to for a while and I hope it makes it into a video.

If not, I still hope you enjoy reading it and thank you for those kind of words.

I really appreciate you watching all the videos that mean so much and let's get into your confession.

This story took place over 20 years ago.

Before I was born.

My dad invited my mom and her sister, my aunt, to go out clubbing with him one night.

He told them to either wait outside or grab a table at this club and that he'd meet up with them very soon.

It wasn't weird at the time.

My parents didn't have a great relationship, but they used to go out together pretty often, so my mom and aunt did what he asked.

When they got to the nightclub, it was closed.

Still, they figured maybe they were early and decided to wait outside.

They both tried calling my dad, but he wouldn't pick up.

He was the kind of guy who would get angry easily.

So instead of leaving, they stayed and waited.

About 30 minutes passed, the club was still empty except for one guy standing nearby.

He didn't seem suspicious, just looked like he was waiting for someone to.

My aunt started getting fed up, and just as they were about to leave, a car slowly drove by across the street.

At first, my mom thought it might be my dad, but then someone inside the car pulled out a gun and opened fire.

My mom was hit in the arm, my aunt was shot in the head, and the stranger who'd been nearby was hit too, right in the chest.

My mom was in shock, frozen in place.

She watched as the stranger dropped to the ground and started throwing up blood.

Within seconds he was gone.

Even while bleeding, my mom managed to call the police and even get an ambulance there.

In less than 5 minutes, the man died on scene.

The doctors said that the bullet had bounced around inside him, causing massive internal damage.

It was brutal.

My mom's injury wasn't life threatening, thankfully it went clean through her arm.

But my aunt, she was in critical condition.

The doctors told the family she was likely brain dead and wouldn't survive the night.

They were wrong against all laws my aunt pulled through.

She had a long recovery and it took a year and a half before she was fully herself again.

The only lasting sign of what happened is a scar on her forehead.

Now here's the part that really makes me feel sick.

My dad completely ghosted everyone after it happened.

He didn't call, didn't check in, not for weeks, and to this day he denies ever telling them to go to that nightclub.

But my mom is sure that's what he said and honestly, I believe her.

She has no reason to lie and he was always a toxic, dangerous person to her.

The fact that he vanished right after the shooting makes me think he might have set them up.

No one was ever arrested.

The shooters were never found.

There was no justice.

Years later, my dad ended up getting sentenced to 13 years in prison for other crimes, and then he picked up another ten years on top of that.

He's still behind bars today.

That's the end of my story.

I'd really love to know your opinion on what you think happened that night.

Do you think you planned it or do you think it was just a horrible coincidence?

Thanks so much for reading and keep making the amazing content.

You're the best.

Thank you so much for those kind words again.

I really appreciate that and you know, I'll try my best to give a decent opinion on it.

I mean, this was a relatively short story.

I obviously don't have all the facts, but I think that is a very, very, very weird coincidence, horrible coincidence.

Obviously, I don't know.

I couldn't say for sure, you know my opinion, but I think I would lean to.

And he planned it, but I don't know if you or your father's or your mother's or your aunt had any sort of underlying, you know, big issues.

Did he have any sort of motive?

I mean, that's kind of like the first thing you look for when there's some sort of murder that almost happened.

You know, I'm not a genius in any sense.

But yeah, there what motive did he just not like his wife?

I mean, you said they didn't like each other, but to murder then Ant and the random person.

I think the random person could also be could add to it where that makes him unlikely to be your father.

But all three of them being hit and none of them being robbed or none of them just just, it's a weird situation in a very, very interesting first confession we have.

And I really can't say for sure, but that's a horrible situation.

And you didn't say what your dad got, you know, sentenced for.

And you said about 23 years in total, which is a very, very, very long time in prison.

If it's anything related to a violent crime, I wouldn't put it past him at that point because, you know, people can't drop tendencies like that very easily.

I know I'm kind of yapping.

This might just be kind of rambling at this point, but very, very interesting and thank you for asking my opinion.

But my final verdict, I think he might have done it or planned it.

That's just very horrible situation.

I'm very, very, you know, glad your aunt made it out fine and your mom did as well.

That's good news.

I feel horrible for that one guy though.

And yeah, I'm really curious to think what you think happened.

Like, do you think your father did it?

Do you think he planned it, or do you think he was a coincidence?

e-mail me back or comment down below.

I'll probably pin your comment just so other people can see it.

But yeah, very, very interesting.

First confession.

Thank you so much for the kind of words again.

And yeah, on to the next one.

Back in 2015, during what I'd call my scumbag era, I pulled off a scam that still weighs on me to this day.

It all started pretty innocently.

One of my friends had a gift certificate for a local pizza place.

It wasn't a big chain, just a small family run spot.

The gift certificate was printed on basic paper with a dollar amount and a handwritten signature.

Nothing fancy.

Right away I noticed how easy it would be to fake it, so I scanned it, photoshopped out the price, added my own amount, forged the signature and printed off a stack of fake ones.

My friend was down and soon we had another buddy in on it too.

We had a little system, I'd go in and use one, then a few days later my friend would go.

Then the third guy we rotated who picked up the pieces to avoid drawing attention.

This went on for about 3 months.

We probably walked away with over $1000 worth of free food and we never got caught.

But eventually I started to feel horrible about it.

It wasn't some massive corporation, it was a family business, people working hard, probably scraping by.

I put an end to the whole thing and never did anything like that again.

It's been almost 10 years and I still feel guilty.

I know I'll never be able to pay them back or undo it, but I wanted to at least put it out there.

Even if I didn't get caught.

I know what I did and that's enough.

And I know you didn't ask for my opinion on this, but you know, I'm, I'm honestly very surprised the pizza place didn't catch on to that where it's three guys that constantly get free food and they have a like a ton of different free certificates.

It seems like kind of a fault in their system, obviously, like if three guys keep coming in week after week after week after week after week for three months and you keep giving them free food, I would think something's up.

But I'm not blaming this on the free food plate or on the not the free food place, the pizza place.

But I mean, it's been 10 years.

And that's good that you, you know, feel remorse for it.

And I know you probably won't ever go back to that pizza place and say, hey, I did this X amount of years ago or 1010 years ago.

But, you know, maybe, maybe to help your conscious, give back to some sort of charity, give back to that pizza place somehow.

If you're ever back there, maybe leave a huge tip.

I don't know.

I really don't know how you'd feel about, you know, feel better about it.

But, you know, yeah, that's not a great thing you did, but at least you feel remorse for it.

I don't want you to feel guilty, but that's good you feel sorry for doing it.

And hopefully you're doing better now.

And thanks for submitting it.

I appreciate being so honest.

And yeah, on to the next one.

Hey Snook, I've been a fan since the Iceberg days and I just wanted to finally share something personal.

I recently started getting my mental health in order, but there's one story I've never told publicly before.

And before we get into your story, thank you for sticking around for so long.

I really, really appreciate it.

Thank you for watching the videos, means a lot.

And let's get into your story.

I live with bipolar disorder and I also have pretty severe PTSD.

Some days it gets so hard to tell what's real and what's not.

Growing up I was surrounded by extremely religious people and on top of that I experienced a lot of abuse.

So when my brain started working against me, it was terrifying.

One day in English class, something just snapped.

I remember it clearly.

It felt like my brain cracked open.

It wasn't just emotional pain, it felt physical.

Everything went black after I walked to the principal's office.

When I came back to reality, I was in a psych ward.

Turns out mad caused a major scene at school.

I apparently said some really scary things and it shook everyone.

I stayed in the hospital for two weeks.

If it weren't for the support I got from a few friends and family members, I don't know where I'd be right now.

There were times I seriously considered giving up, but I didn't.

Talking to people is what helps the most, just having someone there to remind me what's real and that not everyone is out to get me.

The good news things are looking up.

My art, which is often inspired by my hallucinations, was just accepted into Humanities conference in Troy, AL.

That recognition has brought me so much joy.

It makes me feel like I can actually help people not just survive, but thrive, and maybe even prevent someone else from ending up where I was, or worse, where some of my family members ended up.

I've lost people to drug overdoses, and it's something that drives me to keep creating and sharing.

So yeah, if this makes it into your video, I hope it reminds people that even in your darkest moments, things can get better.

And please talk to someone.

That's what saved me and I really, really appreciate you sharing this story.

It a lot of people that this is going to be kind of a tangent off of your story, not directly related, but this is kind of why I make these type of videos.

A lot of people say that, you know, I might make super, you know, disturbing videos and on it some people say I take advantage of these people's bad experiences.

But I would completely disagree because of stories like this that can show you things can get better.

The disturbing things are, yes, interesting and just catch people's attention, but also they show that things can get better.

There is evil in the world, obviously, but there's also a lot of good.

And I think everyone can have their peace of that goodness.

And I really, really appreciate you sharing this.

And hopefully it's found relatable to people who are in a bad place right now and it will get better.

And I really, really appreciate you sharing the story.

And it made it into a video, so that's awesome.

I'm glad you sent it in, man.

On the next one.

Hey Snook, I've been watching your videos for the past few months and I absolutely love your content.

I saw your post on YouTube and decided to finally share my story.

I really hope you include it in one of your videos and if you do, please share your thoughts on it.

That would mean a lot.

Also, please keep this anonymous.

You can call me Din Din.

Thank you so much for the kind words again and I'm glad you sent in your story.

And don't worry, I'll keep it anonymous.

And yeah, this will be in a video so here it goes.

It started when my sister Yan, my cousin MA, few of em's friends, 2 girls and a guy and I decided to go to the cliffs for a laid back picnic.

We were just looking for a chill afternoon, but if only we knew how wrong it would go.

Once we got to the cliffs we laid out a blanket and set up our spot.

At some point, M and I had this weird idea to have everyone wash their hands near the edge of the Cliff.

I don't know why we thought that was a good idea.

It was about a 200 foot drop.

While walking towards the cliffside, Yon and I were bickering about forgetting the salad dressing.

She had the paper soap in her hand so we walked up together.

Before washing my hands, I threw a rock off the edge.

Watching it fall made my stomach drop.

That feeling, the one you get when you're falling in a dream.

I have it all the time now and whenever I do I always dream of that Cliff.

I washed my hands first then stepped aside to let yon go.

Next.

I turned around to grab some paper towels from my backpack and then I heard her say something faint like din din help me.

Her voice was so quiet and I thought she was joking.

About 20 seconds later I turned back and saw her hanging on with one hand.

I panicked and ran a pull her up but the rock she was gripping gave away and she fell.

I froze, then I ran back to the group like nothing had happened.

When they asked where Yan was, I said I didn't know.

No one saw us go to the Cliff together so they didn't think twice.

M said he saw her head up the hill while we kept our backpacks, so everyone assumed she went home since her backpack was with her.

It made sense.

The rest of the day blurred by.

When M and I got home, our moms were already asking where Yan was.

That's when it all hit me again.

M said She came home and I just nodded along.

Later, he called his friends and they got the cops involved.

They searched for her, but they never checked the bottom of the Cliff.

I wanted to tell the truth, I really did, but I was terrified.

I still am.

They buried her four months later in an empty casket.

The police declared her dead after the winter passed.

It's been 14 years, 10 months and 24 days since that day and I still blame myself.

I've never talked to a therapist, I'm scared they won't keep it confidential but telling you snook even just typing this out has made me feel maybe 0.1% lighter.

Thanks for listening and maybe just maybe sharing this story in one of your videos.

And you asked for my opinion, so I'm going to try my best.

But the if this, if this really happened, I honestly don't even know what to say.

This is really, really, you know, impactful.

And that's crazy.

You've held it in for over a decade without sharing it to ever anyone.

And I think this is perfect timing with the past, with the last story we just covered.

Talk to someone, Please talk to someone that would really, really help you.

You know, you've carried it for over a decade by yourself and you even said it yourself.

Even if it helps you 0.1%, it's still something and just telling, you know, a stranger on the Internet.

I just read stories, obviously.

But yeah, that's a very disturbing story.

I I don't blame you for acting the way you did.

That's a horrifying experience and a situation, and, you know, no one can really say how they would act until they're put in a situation like that.

But I really, really think you should live true to the words that were in the last story from that guy who experienced a lot of bad shit.

Just talk to someone.

Please talk to someone, whether it's a therapist or someone you trust, a friend, family member, because from the outside it seems like you're carrying this completely alone and have been for a long, long time and no one should have to carry anything like this alone.

Please talk to someone.

I hope you're doing all right.

Thank you for so much for sharing.

But I think the family of that girl has to know, not has to know what I mean.

Closure is an important thing.

And yeah, I don't, I don't know whether or not to believe this is true.

I don't know.

But thank you for sharing and I hope my words of advice helped a little bit.

On to the next one.

Hey Snook, how's it going?

I've been watching your videos a lot lately while I work.

They've honestly helped me stay focused and feel less alone.

I saw your community post and for the first time ever decided to share something I've never told anyone.

This is a personal story, and I know you'll take care to blur or skip anything that needs to be toned down for YouTube, so thank you for creating that space.

I'm 19 now, but this started when I was around 10 or 11.

Some new neighbors moved in, three boys around my age.

I became friends with the two younger ones, but the oldest one, let's call him N, always felt different.

We didn't talk much at first, but that eventually changed.

At first, everything was normal.

We'd hang out, play outside, have bonfires.

It felt like a good childhood.

But then things slowly started to shift.

One night we played a version of a typical sleepover game, and that's when N crossed again boundary.

I didn't really understand what was happening, I was just a kid.

I thought it was part of the game but it wasn't.

It left me confused and honestly scared after that and started finding ways to isolate me during games.

Sleepovers who'd always find moments to make me uncomfortable.

It went on for a long time and I kept it all inside.

I didn't tell anyone, I felt like I couldn't.

That silence weighed on me.

I started struggling mentally and emotionally.

I even had a moment where my mom noticed something was wrong just from the mood of my Instagram name, but I told her I was fine.

I didn't have the words to explain it even if I wanted to.

Eventually everything came to a head.

One night, something almost happened again, but my older brother walked in.

That moment stopped everything.

That was the last time, but even after that, things didn't magically get better and started spreading rumors and flipping the story.

Suddenly people around me, including some family, believed I was the one in the wrong.

I became the outcast.

I felt blamed, I slid and lost.

Even simple games like hide and seek, somehow I was always the seeker.

I was always the joke, the one left behind.

It's taken me years to even write this down, and I still don't know if I'm fully healed.

By telling this here, sharing it with you, it makes me feel a little lighter, like I'm not carrying it completely alone anymore.

It was the lowest point in my life, but somehow I got through it.

I made new friends, one of them, a girl named M, really helped me start feeling like myself again.

Today, I'm in a way better place.

I've been working out for two years, I've got an amazing job, a solid group of friends, and I'm streaming and making videos doing what I love.

There are still tough days, but I'm learning to take it one step at a time.

And As for N, I've forgiven him, not to his face, but in my heart.

Not because it was OK, because I needed to let it go and it wouldn't keep controlling me.

Thank you for listening Snook.

I've got more stories but this one was a heavy one.

I hope it helps someone else find out there.

Feel a little less alone and to anyone watching, take care of yourself.

You're stronger than you think.

And thank you again, Snook.

Keep doing what you're doing.

You've got no idea how much it helps.

Thank you so much for those kind of words.

It really means a lot.

I mean, at the beginning of your story and at the end, I really, really appreciate those kind of words.

It means a ton.

And just by the way, guys, I did tone down the story because but it's just it wouldn't do good on YouTube.

YouTube wouldn't like it probably cross some sort of community guideline, but you guys get the the gist of the story.

Really sad, disturbing.

And thank you so much for sharing.

Thank you for being open.

And yeah, hopefully it really helps someone out there who's watching.

If any of you are watching and relate to this, you're not alone.

And if you take one moral from all the stories we've read so far, and we've read like not so many four or five, but the people who get better, talk to someone.

That is the common denominator for all of these.

Don't carry your hardships alone.

Please don't talk to someone, e-mail me, do anything.

Don't be alone.

Someone's always there, there in the entire world.

You can talk to someone.

You're not alone.

People go through hard shit and you got it.

And I really appreciate those kind of words at the end.

And I completely agree with and to anyone watching, take care of yourself.

You're stronger than anything.

You guys are all stronger than anything.

You can get through anything you want, just put your mind to it.

You can do it.

You can get over anything.

Any obstacle you can get over.

You guys are amazing.

And yeah, just common denominator from all of the stories so far.

Don't carry this shit alone, talk to somebody.

Thank you so much for your submission and on to the next one.

Facebook English is my first language, I'm just using text to speech through headphones so sorry if anything sounds a little off.

This happened back in the summer of 2011.

My friends and I have been riding dirt bikes pretty much every day and one day we found this abandoned area full of hills.

It looks like a perfect place to ride so we all agreed to meet up there.

I kicked up my YZ 125 and headed out.

On the way there I nearly crashed into this massive hole.

Not just a ditch or a little drop, it was maybe 20 to 30 feet deep just randomly in the middle of the area with nothing around it.

I managed to avoid it, but it definitely freaked me out.

Once we got to the hills, a lot of my friends realized they didn't fill their gas tanks, so we decided to head back to my place.

There were about 10 of us in total.

I was second to last in the group.

As we passed by that hole again, all of us saw it, but only nine of us made it back.

My friend, who I'll keep anonymous, fell into the hole.

We panicked.

None of us had phones.

We didn't know what to do.

We didn't want to make things worse.

So we started moving dirt and covering the hole to keep them from being exposed until we could figure out how to get them out safely.

Then we raced back to my house and grabbed whatever we could get.

Rope, tape, extra clothes, even some food.

We also brought a ladder.

We lowered the ladder down and I tied the rope around both of us.

He was trapped to my back and together we slowly climbed up.

He was alive but in bad shape.

3 broken ribs, a shattered arm with bones sticking out, and a leg completely snapped in half.

And here's where this becomes a confession.

Instead of calling for help, we tried to fix them ourselves.

We thought we'd get in trouble.

We tried to clean them up and make it look like it wasn't as bad as it really was.

After hours of trying to stabilize them, we told his parents we had just tried to jump over the hole in mist.

They rushed him to the ER, but he didn't make it.

They said he passed away from complications we didn't fully understand.

To this day, I can't help but wonder if I had a ridden at the very back instead of in front of him, would it have been me and would he still be alive?

Thank you so much for, you know, sending in the story.

And I really hope you don't feel guilty over this because obviously you're a kid.

A terrifying situation, a situation you know, no one should be put in obviously.

But I really, I don't know if you are blaming yourself, but I don't think you should at all.

It was just a horrible situation.

I've been in scary situations with my friends on bikes and they get hurt.

It's terrifying.

You panic, you don't know what to do.

And I've been in that situation before.

And, you know, it's so easy to chastise and criticize people in, you know, panicky situations from the outside in.

But when you're in, it's impossible to make those smart, thought out decisions.

And you're a kid with no phone.

What are you supposed to do?

You did the best thing you thought you could have done.

You and your friends thought you were doing the right thing.

And I really, you know, can't blame you because I don't know if I would have made a different decision, I think I would have done the same thing.

That was a horrible incident, just a horrible, you know, crash tragedy that happened to your poor friend and, you know, eventually got to the ER, But who knows what would have happened?

I really don't think you should blame yourself.

And who knows what would have happened if you you read you wrote in the back instead of him.

I mean, you could do what ifs all day, but whatever happened happened obviously.

And I really don't think you should, you know, blame yourself.

Thank you for sharing.

And I really don't think this is even a confession.

I don't think you should blame yourself all these years later.

But yeah, thank you so much for sharing.

On to the next one.

This happened almost 17 years ago, but it still lingers in my head to this day.

I was a new therapist, fresh out of grad school, barely 26, working in a community mental health clinic.

I was eager, idealistic and a little naive.

I believed everyone could change, especially if they wanted to.

His name was David.

He was 34.

Court ordered therapy after an incident with his girlfriend.

Nothing too specific in the paperwork, just domestic disturbance and anger management required.

When I met him, he seemed quiet, calm, sad even.

He talked about his childhood, his dad hitting him, the drinking.

He said he wants to be better, that he never meant to hurt her, he just got angry.

He cried in one of our first sessions, told me he hated himself for what he did.

I believed him.

I didn't report him.

I could have.

There were things he said that should have triggered A mandatory reports, but he always found a way to soften it, to reframe it.

I thought he was self aware.

I thought he was trying.

Three months in, the court lifted his mandate.

He'd been consistent, calm, cooperative.

No red flags, at least not on paper.

They asked if I believed he was fit to leave therapy.

I said yes.

I signed the discharge papers in our final session.

He shook my hand and said thanks for not giving up on me.

I smiled, told him he was ready, but even then something in his body language felt off and I ignored it.

3 weeks later I saw his name in the news.

He'd killed her, not in a fit of rage.

He strangled her while she was sleeping, sat next to her for hours before turning himself in.

I don't remember much from that day.

I remember staring at my computer screen, reading the article over and over, wanting for it to change.

I told my supervisor everything she said.

I followed procedure, that I wasn't responsible.

But here's the part I've never said out loud.

He told me he was going to do it.

Not directly, not clearly.

But in one of our last sessions he said something I keep replaying in my head.

He said sometimes I think the only way to stop being the monster is to make sure no one ever sees me again.

And I knew what he meant.

I felt it.

So I nodded and said something soft, therapeutic.

I thought I was helping.

I wasn't.

After the murder, I was questioned and investigated.

The court wanted to know if I'd failed, if my decision to discharge David played a role in what happened.

They went through everything.

My notes, our sessions, the reports I'd written.

Their own experts evaluated him afterward.

They diagnosed him with ADHD, borderline personality disorder, narcissistic traits, and possibly psychopathy.

It all made sense in hindsight.

But during our sessions, I saw none of that.

No signs, no outbursts, no manipulation.

I could recognize he was focused, respectful, careful with his words.

He made me believe he was controlling his anger better.

I told the court that he manipulated me, that I had truly believed he was rehabilitated.

I lied.

I saw signs, not of mental disorders, but signs that I should have reported.

And as I said it, I looked at David for the last time.

He was calm, he looked back at me and smiled.

He was sentenced to life in a psychiatric hospital.

If you're asking for the motive, I don't know.

Might have been because she called the police the day he hit her.

Might have been for revenge, but for such a deranged person, it wouldn't surprised me if he killed her for the satisfaction.

I know where the girlfriend parents live, I know their names, I even know where her gravesite is.

But I've never had the gut to tell them, to tell them I was a part of her murder.

I still have the article files in my drawer.

I want to throw them away, but I can't.

I still blame myself every day because I knew he wasn't rehabilitated.

I might not have been the one who killed her, but I let him walk out free.

I signed the papers.

I cleared him.

David is currently dead.

He committed S word by overdosing on his medicine a long time ago.

Hey, this is difficult for me to share as it's my first time opening up like this.

I appreciate your videos.

They often provide comfort when I'm trying to relax or fall asleep.

I'm writing about the significant trauma I experienced in school.

While it might sound like the typical bullying, it escalated into abuse and I'm recounting this quickly so it might seem disjointed.

And thank you for those kind words, I really appreciate it.

On to your story.

It began when close friends share something about me.

I'm unsure of the details, but it seemed minor.

Initially, I thought having other friends would buffer any negative impact.

However, another student spread malicious lies about me, falsely accusing me of manipulating my friends.

These rumors unfortunately reached my new circle, and it was devastating to see how easily a fabrication could change their perception of me.

I isolated and without friends, I became a target for the same student who bullied and tormented me during lunch.

Seeking connection, I gravitated towards students from a school club unique to our school.

We formed close bonds, and their acceptance was a refuge.

They dismissed the rumors, recognizing their absurdity.

How could I possibly be capable of such things?

It's important to note that I was already dealing with personal struggles, including the loss of other friendships and a sense of neglect from the school regarding these issues.

This likely made me seem withdrawn or different, and unfortunately, I lost another friend during this time, though not directly due to the rumors.

As months passed, I began to feel a growing distance from the very people who'd become my lifeline.

Sadness and loneliness overwhelm me, but I suppressed these feelings, terrified of losing my only support system, my only reason to keep going.

I felt like I was clinging to a fragile threat, and inevitably, it snapped.

During a hangout, my friends went to speak with the student who had started the rumors.

Afterwards, she relayed to me that they hated me and no longer wanted to associate with me.

My heart shattered.

The people I trusted implicitly had seemingly never truly cared.

I left heartbroken and crying and sought help from someone who, instead of offering support, blamed me for the situation.

This crushed any remaining hope I had.

I no longer want to live.

The following days were a torment.

The pain wasn't just from the bullying, but from the deeper abuse I felt at the hands of both students in the schools.

Indifference.

I struggled to trust anyone, yet I was too naive to realize how rapidly the rumors were spreading.

One day after math class, I attempted to take my own life in the bathroom, but something stopped me.

With the school year ending, the thought of summer offered a sliver of hope I can find in my parents and they agreed to let me transfer schools.

The following school year brought a change of scenery, but the memories of the hurtful words and actions persisted.

I made wonderful new friends, yet the negative thoughts intensified daily.

I would brave myself thinking it's my fault or I should go back and apologize.

At times these thoughts would escalate to I should end it all to stop my pain in theirs, or even vengeful thoughts of hurting those who had hurt me.

Guilt, anger, and pain became significant obstacles to moving forward.

I realized these intense thoughts were often triggered at lunch, the place where so much of the trauma had occurred.

I discussed this with my psychiatrist and received a diagnosis of PTSD.

The desires for revenge was strong, but I couldn't bring myself to act on it, so I turned the pain inward, engaging in self harm both physically and emotionally.

Even now, the pain persists and has worsened.

I'm tormented by the desire to undo the arguments with my initial friends, or even to harm them for what they did.

I feel like I'm losing my mind, caught between the urge for them to suffer, the desire to end my own life, or simply succumbing to all in myself.

I have a plan for ending my life, but the thought of my current caring friends is holding me back.

My old friends found me on social media and we had another argument.

It has stopped for now, but I don't know how much longer I can enter this.

And thank you for sharing this story.

I just hope you get better.

And thank you for being vulnerable.

And yeah, I mean, with all the stories in this video or all the confessions in this video, just talk to somebody.

You'll feel better.

Don't hold it all in.

And it's good that you told, you know, I mean, at least somebody me and it'll be shared to everyone who's watching this video.

And maybe it'll be, you know, relatable to some people.

And I mean, we've heard it numerous times in this video, but things get better.

Just talk to somebody, please.

We all want to see you thrive.

You will.

Things will get better 100%.

Keep going.

Keep fighting the good fight.

You've got this.

Thank you so much for sharing this confession and thank you much love.

And all right, that wraps up some disturbing anonymous confessions.

This is definitely a more heavy series in my opinion.

This will definitely be a lot more emotionally heavy.

And if you guys are all right with that coming down below and maybe you'll get another one in the future.

It also depends on how many confessions I get because I used up all the confessions I received and made-up this video.

So if you would like to see more, just yeah, submit more.

e-mail was at the beginning of the video and also top comment and probably in the description.

So if you want to submit your confession, please submit it.

I'd love to read it and hopefully give you some advice.

I really appreciate it and you watching.

I really appreciate you watching and let me know what you thought about the editing on this.

Was it all right?

Did you enjoy the voiceover?

The slower voiceover and just any sort of other criticism is totally welcome.

Thank you so much for watching.

I appreciate every single one of you.

You guys are awesome.

Keep going, talk to somebody.

If you're feeling sad, talk to someone 100% or just e-mail me.

Thank you for watching.

Please like and subscribe and all right, this is Snook and I'll see you next time.

Bye.